The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

and QUINTUS, two other sons; then TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA the Queen of Goths, with her three sons, ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, with AARON the Moor, and others, as many as can be. Then set down the coffin and TITUS speaks

TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

Lo, as the bark that hath discharg’d her fraught Returns with precious lading to the bay From whence at first she weigh’d her anchorage, Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, To re-salute his country with his tears, Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

Thou great defender of this Capitol,

Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!

Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, Half of the number that King Priam had, Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!

These that survive let Rome reward with love; These that I bring unto their latest home, With burial amongst their ancestors.

Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.

Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own, Why suffer’st thou thy sons, unburied yet, To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?

Make way to lay them by their brethren.

[They open the tomb]

There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, And sleep in peace, slain in your country’s wars.

O sacred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many sons hast thou of mine in store That thou wilt never render to me more!

LUCIUS. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh

Before this earthy prison of their bones, That so the shadows be not unappeas’d, Nor we disturb’d with prodigies on earth.

TITUS. I give him you-the noblest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen.

TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethen! Gracious conqueror, Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, A mother’s tears in passion for her son; And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, O, think my son to be as dear to me!

Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome To beautify thy triumphs, and return

Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke; But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets For valiant doings in their country’s cause?

O, if to fight for king and commonweal Were piety in thine, it is in these.

Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

Draw near them then in being merciful.

Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

TITUS. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

These are their brethren, whom your Goths beheld Alive and dead; and for their brethren slain Religiously they ask a sacrifice.

To this your son is mark’d, and die he must T’ appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

LUCIUS. Away with him, and make a fire straight; And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consum’d.

Exeunt TITUS’ SONS, with ALARBUS

TAMORA. O cruel, irreligious piety!

CHIRON. Was never Scythia half so barbarous!

DEMETRIUS. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive

To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning look.

Then, madam, stand resolv’d, but hope withal The selfsame gods that arm’d the Queen of Troy With opportunity of sharp revenge

Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent

May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths-When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, the sons of ANDRONICUS, with their swords bloody LUCIUS. See, lord and father, how we have perform’d Our Roman rites: Alarbus’ limbs are lopp’d, And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.

Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren, And with loud ‘larums welcome them to Rome.

TITUS. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

[Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb]

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome’s readiest champions, repose you here in rest, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!

Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

Enter LAVINIA

LAVINIA. In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; My noble lord and father, live in fame!

Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears

I render for my brethren’s obsequies; And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.

O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud!

TITUS. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv’d The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!

Lavinia, live; outlive thy father’s days, And fame’s eternal date, for virtue’s praise!

Enter, above, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and TRIBUNES; re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and attendants MARCUS. Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

TITUS. Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

MARCUS. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all That in your country’s service drew your swords; But safer triumph is this funeral pomp That hath aspir’d to Solon’s happiness And triumphs over chance in honour’s bed.

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust, This par]iament of white and spotless hue; And name thee in election for the empire With these our late-deceased Emperor’s sons: Be candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to set a head on headless Rome.

TITUS. A better head her glorious body fits Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

What should I don this robe and trouble you?

Be chosen with proclamations to-day,

Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life, And set abroad new business for you all?

Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, And led my country’s strength successfully, And buried one and twenty valiant sons, Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, In right and service of their noble country.

Give me a staff of honour for mine age, But not a sceptre to control the world.

Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

MARCUS. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

SATURNINUS. Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?

TITUS. Patience, Prince Saturninus.

SATURNINUS. Romans, do me right.

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not Till Saturninus be Rome’s Emperor.

Andronicus, would thou were shipp’d to hell Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts!

LUCIUS. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

TITUS. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee The people’s hearts, and wean them from themselves.

BASSIANUS. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, But honour thee, and will do till I die.

My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, I will most thankful be; and thanks to men Of noble minds is honourable meed.

TITUS. People of Rome, and people’s Tribunes here, I ask your voices and your suffrages: Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

TRIBUNES. To gratify the good Andronicus, And gratulate his safe return to Rome, The people will accept whom he admits.

TITUS. Tribunes, I thank you; and this suit I make, That you create our Emperor’s eldest son, Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, Reflect on Rome as Titan’s rays on earth, And ripen justice in this commonweal.

Then, if you will elect by my advice, Crown him, and say ‘Long live our Emperor!’

MARCUS. With voices and applause of every sort, Patricians and plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus Rome’s great Emperor; And say ‘Long live our Emperor Saturnine!’

[A long flourish till they come down]

SATURNINUS. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done To us in our election this day

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, And will with deeds requite thy gentleness; And for an onset, Titus, to advance

Thy name and honourable family,

Lavinia will I make my emperess,

Rome’s royal mistress, mistress of my heart, And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.

Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?

TITUS. It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match I hold me highly honoured of your Grace, And here in sight of Rome, to Saturnine, King and commander of our commonweal, The wide world’s Emperor, do I consecrate My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners, Presents well worthy Rome’s imperious lord; Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, Mine honour’s ensigns humbled at thy feet.

SATURNINUS. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.

How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts Rome shall record; and when I do forget The least of these unspeakable deserts, Romans, forget your fealty to me.

TITUS. [To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor; To him that for your honour and your state Will use you nobly and your followers.

SATURNINUS. [Aside] A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-

Clear up, fair Queen, that cloudy countenance; Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, Thou com’st not to be made a scorn in Rome-Princely shall be thy usage every way.

Rest on my word, and let not discontent Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.

Lavinia, you are not displeas’d with this?

LAVINIA. Not I, my lord, sith true nobility Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

SATURNINUS. Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go.

Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.

Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.

[Flourish]

BASSIANUS. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.

[Seizing LAVINIA]

TITUS. How, sir! Are you in earnest then, my lord?

BASSIANUS. Ay, noble Titus, and resolv’d withal To do myself this reason and this right.

MARCUS. Suum cuique is our Roman justice: This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

LUCIUS. And that he will and shall, if Lucius live.

TITUS. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor’s guard?

Treason, my lord-Lavinia is surpris’d!

SATURNINUS. Surpris’d! By whom?

BASSIANUS. By him that justly may

Bear his betroth’d from all the world away.

Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA MUTIUS. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I’ll keep this door safe.

Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS

TITUS. Follow, my lord, and I’ll soon bring her back.

MUTIUS. My lord, you pass not here.

TITUS. What, villain boy!

Bar’st me my way in Rome?

MUTIUS. Help, Lucius, help!

TITUS kills him. During the fray, exeunt SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and AARON

Re-enter Lucius

LUCIUS. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so: In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

TITUS. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine; My sons would never so dishonour me.

Re-enter aloft the EMPEROR

with TAMORA and her two Sons, and AARON the Moor Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.

LUCIUS. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, That is another’s lawful promis’d love. Exit SATURNINUS. No, Titus, no; the Emperor needs her not, Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock.

I’ll trust by leisure him that mocks me once; Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all thus to dishonour me.

Was there none else in Rome to make a stale But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine That saidst I begg’d the empire at thy hands.

TITUS. O monstrous! What reproachful words