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twg_000000027000 | poor competitor. [_Flourish. They go up into the Senate House._] Enter a Captain. CAPTAIN. Romans, make way! The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Romes best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is returned From where he circumscribed with his sword And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome. Sound drums and trumpets, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027001 | then enter two of Titus sons, and then two men bearing a coffin covered with black; then two other sons; then Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora, the Queen of Goths and her sons Alarbus, Chiron and Demetrius with Aaron the Moor, and others as many as can be, then set down the coffin, and Titus speaks. TITUS. Hail, Rome, victorious | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027002 | in thy mourning weeds! Lo, as the bark that hath discharged her fraught Returns with precious lading to the bay From whence at first she weighed her anchorage, Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, To resalute his country with his tears, Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. Thou great defender of this Capitol, Stand gracious to the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027003 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027004 | thine own, Why sufferst 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 countrys wars. O sacred receptacle of my joys, Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, How | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027005 | 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 unappeased, Nor we disturbed with prodigies | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027006 | on earth. TITUS. I give him you, the noblest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen. TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, A mothers 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027007 | 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 countrys 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027008 | thou draw near the nature of the gods? Draw near them then in being merciful. Sweet mercy is nobilitys 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027009 | marked, 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, Lets hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. [_Exeunt Titus sons with Alarbus._] TAMORA. O cruel, irreligious piety! CHIRON. Was never Scythia half so barbarous! DEMETRIUS. Oppose not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027010 | Scythia to ambitious Rome. Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive To tremble under Titus threatning look. Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal The self-same gods that armed 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) | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027011 | To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. Enter the sons of Andronicus again with bloody swords. LUCIUS. See, lord and father, how we have performed Our Roman rites. Alarbus limbs are lopped, And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky. Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren, And with loud larums welcome them | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027012 | 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; Romes readiest champions, repose you here in rest, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps. Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027013 | 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 brethrens obsequies; And at thy feet I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027014 | kneel, with tears of joy Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome. O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, Whose fortunes Romes best citizens applaud. TITUS. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! Lavinia, live; outlive thy fathers days, And fames eternal date, for virtues praise. Enter Marcus | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027015 | Andronicus and Tribunes; re-enter Saturninus, Bassianus and others. 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 countrys service drew | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027016 | your swords; But safer triumph is this funeral pomp That hath aspired to Solons happiness And triumphs over chance in honours 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 palliament of white and spotless hue, And name thee in election for the empire | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027017 | With these our late-deceased emperors 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 today, Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life, And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027018 | set abroad new business for you all? Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, And led my countrys 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027019 | 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 Romes emperor. Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell Rather than rob me of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027020 | the peoples 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 peoples 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027021 | thankful be; and thanks to men Of noble minds is honourable meed. TITUS. People of Rome, and peoples tribunes here, I ask your voices and your suffrages. Will you 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027022 | this suit I make, That you create your emperors eldest son, Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, Reflect on Rome as Titans 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027023 | create Lord Saturninus Romes great emperor, And say Long live our Emperor Saturnine! [_A long flourish._] 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027024 | I make my empress, Romes 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027025 | worlds emperor, do I consecrate My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners; Presents well worthy Romes imperious lord. Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, Mine honours 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027026 | 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. A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue That I would choose, were I to choose anew. Clear up, fair queen, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027027 | that cloudy countenance. Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, Thou comst 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 displeased | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027028 | 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. Saturninus and his Guards exit, with Drums and Trumpets. Tribunes and Senators exit aloft._] BASSIANUS. Lord Titus, by your leave, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027029 | this maid is mine. TITUS. How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord? BASSIANUS. Ay, noble Titus; and resolved 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027030 | emperors guard? Enter Saturninus and his Guards. Treason, my lord, Lavinia is surprised. SATURNINUS. Surprised? By whom? BASSIANUS. By him that justly may Bear his betrothed from all the world away. [_Exeunt Bassianus and Marcus with Lavinia._] MUTIUS. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword Ill keep this door safe. [_Exeunt Lucius, Quintus and Martius._] TITUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027031 | Follow, my lord, and Ill soon bring her back. [_Exeunt Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, Aaron, and Guards._] MUTIUS. My lord, you pass not here. TITUS. What, villain boy, Barrst me my way in Rome? [_Stabbing Mutius._] MUTIUS. Help, Lucius, help! [_Dies._] Re-enter Lucius. LUCIUS. My lord, you are unjust, and more than so, In wrongful quarrel you have slain your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027032 | son. TITUS. Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine; My sons would never so dishonour me. Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor. LUCIUS. Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, That is anothers lawful promised love. [_Exit._] Enter aloft the Emperor Saturninus with Tamora and her two sons and Aaron the Moor. SATURNINUS. No, Titus, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027033 | no; the emperor needs her not, Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock. Ill trust by leisure him that mocks me once; Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all thus to dishonour me. Was none in Rome to make a stale But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027034 | saidst I begged the empire at thy hands. TITUS. O monstrous! What reproachful words are these? SATURNINUS. But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece To him that flourished for her with his sword. A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. TITUS. These words are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027035 | razors to my wounded heart. SATURNINUS. And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, That like the stately Phbe mongst her nymphs Dost overshine the gallantst dames of Rome, If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Empress of Rome. Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027036 | choice? And here I swear by all the Roman gods, Sith priest and holy water are so near, And tapers burn so bright, and everything In readiness for Hymenus stand, I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, Or climb my palace, till from forth this place I lead espoused my bride along with me. TAMORA. And here in sight | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027037 | of heaven to Rome I swear, If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, She will a handmaid be to his desires, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. SATURNINUS. Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered. There shall we consummate | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027038 | our spousal rites. [_Exeunt all but Titus._] TITUS. I am not bid to wait upon this bride. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonoured thus, and challenged of wrongs? Re-enter Marcus, Lucius, Quintus and Martius. MARCUS. O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. TITUS. No, foolish tribune, no; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027039 | no son of mine, Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed That hath dishonoured all our family. Unworthy brother and unworthy sons! LUCIUS. But let us give him burial, as becomes; Give Mutius burial with our brethren. TITUS. Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb. This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified. Here | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027040 | none but soldiers and Romes servitors Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls. Bury him where you can, he comes not here. MARCUS. My lord, this is impiety in you. My nephew Mutius deeds do plead for him; He must be buried with his brethren. MARTIUS. And shall, or him we will accompany. TITUS. And shall? What villain was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027041 | it spake that word? QUINTUS. He that would vouch it in any place but here. TITUS. What, would you bury him in my despite? MARCUS. No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee To pardon Mutius and to bury him. TITUS. Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, And with these boys mine honour thou hast wounded. My foes I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027042 | do repute you every one; So trouble me no more, but get you gone. QUINTUS. He is not with himself; let us withdraw. MARTIUS. Not I, till Mutius bones be buried. [_Marcus and the sons of Titus kneel._] MARCUS. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead, QUINTUS. Father, and in that name doth nature speak, TITUS. Speak thou no | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027043 | more, if all the rest will speed. MARCUS. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul, LUCIUS. Dear father, soul and substance of us all, MARCUS. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter His noble nephew here in virtues nest, That died in honour and Lavinias cause. Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous. The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax, That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027044 | slew himself; and wise Laertes son Did graciously plead for his funerals. Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy, Be barred his entrance here. TITUS. Rise, Marcus, rise. The dismallst day is this that eer I saw, To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome! Well, bury him, and bury me the next. [_They put Mutius in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027045 | tomb._] LUCIUS. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. ALL. [_Kneeling_.] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame that died in virtues cause. MARCUS. My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths Is of a sudden | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027046 | thus advanced in Rome? TITUS. I know not, Marcus, but I know it is. Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell. Is she not then beholding to the man That brought her for this high good turn so far? Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. Flourish. Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora and her two sons, with Aaron the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027047 | Moor. Drums and Trumpets, at one door. Enter at the other door Bassianus and Lavinia with others. SATURNINUS. So, Bassianus, you have played your prize. God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. BASSIANUS. And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave. SATURNINUS. Traitor, if Rome have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027048 | law or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. BASSIANUS. Rape call you it, my lord, to seize my own, My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine. SATURNINUS. Tis good, sir. You are very short with us; But if | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027049 | we live, well be as sharp with you. BASSIANUS. My lord, what I have done, as best I may, Answer I must, and shall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know: By all the duties that I owe to Rome, This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, Is in opinion and in honour wronged, That, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027050 | in the rescue of Lavinia, With his own hand did slay his youngest son, In zeal to you, and highly moved to wrath To be controlled in that he frankly gave. Receive him then to favour, Saturnine, That hath expressed himself in all his deeds A father and a friend to thee and Rome. TITUS. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027051 | my deeds. Tis thou, and those, that have dishonoured me. Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge How I have loved and honoured Saturnine. TAMORA. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak indifferently for all; And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. SATURNINUS. What, madam, be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027052 | dishonoured openly, And basely put it up without revenge? TAMORA. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you! But on mine honour dare I undertake For good Lord Titus innocence in all, Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs. Then at my suit look graciously on him; Lose not so noble a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027053 | friend on vain suppose, Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. [_Aside_.] My lord, be ruled by me, be won at last; Dissemble all your griefs and discontents. You are but newly planted in your throne; Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus part, And so supplant you for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027054 | to be a heinous sin, Yield at entreats, and then let me alone. Ill find a day to massacre them all, And raze their faction and their family, The cruel father and his traitorous sons, To whom I sued for my dear sons life; And make them know what tis to let a queen Kneel in the streets and beg | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027055 | for grace in vain. [_Aloud_.] Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. SATURNINUS. Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevailed. TITUS. I thank your majesty and her, my lord. These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. TAMORA. Titus, I am incorporate | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027056 | in Rome, A Roman now adopted happily, And must advise the emperor for his good. This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; And let it be mine honour, good my lord, That I have reconciled your friends and you. For you, Prince Bassianus, I have passed My word and promise to the emperor That you will be more mild and tractable. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027057 | And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia. By my advice, all humbled on your knees, You shall ask pardon of his majesty. LUCIUS. We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness That what we did was mildly as we might, Tendring our sisters honour and our own. MARCUS. That on mine honour here do I protest. SATURNINUS. Away, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027058 | and talk not; trouble us no more. TAMORA. Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends. The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; I will not be denied. Sweet heart, look back. SATURNINUS. Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brothers here, And at my lovely Tamoras entreats, I do remit these young mens heinous faults. Stand up. Lavinia, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027059 | though you left me like a churl, I found a friend, and sure as death I swore I would not part a bachelor from the priest. Come, if the emperors court can feast two brides, You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. TITUS. Tomorrow, an it please your majesty To hunt the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027060 | panther and the hart with me, With horn and hound well give your grace _bonjour_. SATURNINUS. Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. [_Sound trumpets. Exeunt all but Aaron._] ACT II SCENE I. Rome. Before the palace Aaron alone. AARON. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus top, Safe out of Fortunes shot, and sits aloft, Secure of thunders crack or lightnings flash, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027061 | Advanced above pale envys threatning reach. As when the golden sun salutes the morn, And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, Gallops the zodiac in his glistening coach, And overlooks the highest-peering hills; So Tamora. Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027062 | To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long Hast prisoner held, fettred in amorous chains, And faster bound to Aarons charming eyes Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, To wait upon this new-made empress. To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027063 | wait, said I? To wanton with this queen, This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, This siren, that will charm Romes Saturnine, And see his shipwrack and his commonweals. Holla! What storm is this? Enter Chiron and Demetrius braving. DEMETRIUS. Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wit wants edge And manners, to intrude where I am graced, And may, for aught | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027064 | thou knowest, affected be. CHIRON. Demetrius, thou dost overween in all, And so in this, to bear me down with braves. Tis not the difference of a year or two Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate. I am as able and as fit as thou To serve and to deserve my mistress grace; And that my sword upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027065 | thee shall approve, And plead my passions for Lavinias love. AARON. [_Aside_.] Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace. DEMETRIUS. Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends? Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath Till you know better how to handle | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027066 | it. CHIRON. Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. DEMETRIUS. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [_They draw._] AARON. Why, how now, lords! So near the emperors palace dare ye draw, And maintain such a quarrel openly? Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge. I would not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027067 | for a million of gold The cause were known to them it most concerns; Nor would your noble mother for much more Be so dishonoured in the court of Rome. For shame, put up. DEMETRIUS. Not I, till I have sheathed My rapier in his bosom, and withal Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat That he hath breathed in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027068 | my dishonour here. CHIRON. For that I am prepared and full resolved, Foul-spoken coward, that thundrest with thy tongue, And with thy weapon nothing darst perform. AARON. Away, I say! Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, This pretty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous It is to jet upon a princes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027069 | right? What, is Lavinia then become so loose, Or Bassianus so degenerate, That for her love such quarrels may be broached Without controlment, justice, or revenge? Young lords, beware! And should the empress know This discords ground, the music would not please. CHIRON. I care not, I, knew she and all the world. I love Lavinia more than all the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027070 | world. DEMETRIUS. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice. Lavina is thine elder brothers hope. AARON. Why, are ye mad? Or know ye not in Rome How furious and impatient they be, And cannot brook competitors in love? I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths By this device. CHIRON. Aaron, a thousand deaths Would I propose | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027071 | to achieve her whom I love. AARON. To achieve her! How? DEMETRIUS. Why makes thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. What, man, more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of; and easy it is Of a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027072 | cut loaf to steal a shive, we know. Though Bassianus be the emperors brother, Better than he have worn Vulcans badge. AARON. [_Aside_.] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. DEMETRIUS. Then why should he despair that knows to court it With words, fair looks, and liberality? What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, And borne her cleanly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027073 | by the keepers nose? AARON. Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so Would serve your turns. CHIRON. Ay, so the turn were served. DEMETRIUS. Aaron, thou hast hit it. AARON. Would you had hit it too! Then should not we be tired with this ado. Why, hark ye, hark ye, and are you such fools To square for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027074 | this? Would it offend you then That both should speed? CHIRON. Faith, not me. DEMETRIUS. Nor me, so I were one. AARON. For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar. Tis policy and stratagem must do That you affect; and so must you resolve That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027075 | may. Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus love. A speedier course than lingring languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path. My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; There will the lovely Roman ladies troop. The forest walks are wide and spacious, And many unfrequented plots there are Fitted by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027076 | kind for rape and villainy. Single you thither, then, this dainty doe, And strike her home by force, if not by words. This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit To villainy and vengeance consecrate, Will we acquaint with all what we intend; And she shall file our engines with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027077 | advice That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes height advance you both. The emperors court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes and ears; The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull. There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns; There serve your lust, shadowed from heavens | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027078 | eye, And revel in Lavinias treasury. CHIRON. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. DEMETRIUS. _Sit fas aut nefas_, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, _Per Stygia, per manes vehor._ [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A Forest near Rome; a Lodge seen at a distance. Horns and cry of hounds heard Enter Titus | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027079 | Andronicus and his three sons, and Marcus, making a noise with hounds and horns. TITUS. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green. Uncouple here, and let us make a bay, And wake the emperor and his lovely bride, And rouse the prince, and ring a hunters peal, That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027080 | all the court may echo with the noise. Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, To attend the emperors person carefully. I have been troubled in my sleep this night, But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal. Then enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027081 | their Attendants. Many good morrows to your majesty; Madam, to you as many and as good. I promised your grace a hunters peal. SATURNINUS. And you have rung it lustily, my lords; Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. BASSIANUS. Lavinia, how say you? LAVINIA. I say no; I have been broad awake two hours and more. SATURNINUS. Come on then; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027082 | horse and chariots let us have, And to our sport. [_To Tamora_.] Madam, now shall ye see Our Roman hunting. MARCUS. I have dogs, my lord, Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, And climb the highest promontory top. TITUS. And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows oer the plain. DEMETRIUS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027083 | Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. A lonely part of the Forest Enter Aaron, alone, carrying a bag of gold. AARON. He that had wit would think that I had none, To bury so much gold under a tree, And never after to inherit it. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027084 | Let him that thinks of me so abjectly Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, Which, cunningly effected, will beget A very excellent piece of villainy. And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest That have their alms out of the empress chest. [_He hides the bag._] Enter Tamora alone to the Moor. TAMORA. My lovely Aaron, wherefore lookst | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027085 | thou sad When everything doth make a gleeful boast? The birds chant melody on every bush, The snakes lie rolled in the cheerful sun, The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind, And make a chequered shadow on the ground. Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027086 | well-tuned horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; And after conflict such as was supposed The wandring prince and Dido once enjoyed, When with a happy storm they were surprised, And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave, We may, each wreathed in the others arms, Our pastimes done, possess | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027087 | a golden slumber, Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurses song Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. AARON. Madam, though Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine. What signifies my deadly-standing eye, My silence and my cloudy melancholy, My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls Even as an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027088 | adder when she doth unroll To do some fatal execution? No, madam, these are no venereal signs. Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul, Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, This is the day of doom for Bassianus; His Philomel | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027089 | must lose her tongue today, Thy sons make pillage of her chastity, And wash their hands in Bassianus blood. Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee, And give the king this fatal-plotted scroll. Now question me no more; we are espied; Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, Which dreads not yet their lives destruction. Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027090 | Bassianus and Lavinia. TAMORA. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! AARON. No more, great empress. Bassianus comes. Be cross with him; and Ill go fetch thy sons To back thy quarrels, whatsoeer they be. [_Exit._] BASSIANUS. Who have we here? Romes royal empress, Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop? Or is it Dian, habited like her, Who hath | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027091 | abandoned her holy groves To see the general hunting in this forest? TAMORA. Saucy controller of my private steps! Had I the power that some say Dian had, Thy temples should be planted presently With horns, as was Actaeons; and the hounds Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, Unmannerly intruder as thou art. LAVINIA. Under your patience, gentle empress, Tis | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027092 | thought you have a goodly gift in horning, And to be doubted that your Moor and you Are singled forth to try experiments. Jove shield your husband from his hounds today! Tis pity they should take him for a stag. BASSIANUS. Believe me, queen, your swarthy Cimmerian Doth make your honour of his bodys hue, Spotted, detested, and abominable. Why | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027093 | are you sequestered from all your train, Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, And wandered hither to an obscure plot, Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, If foul desire had not conducted you? LAVINIA. And, being intercepted in your sport, Great reason that my noble lord be rated For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, And let her joy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027094 | her raven-coloured love; This valley fits the purpose passing well. BASSIANUS. The king my brother shall have notice of this. LAVINIA. Ay, for these slips have made him noted long. Good king, to be so mightily abused! TAMORA. Why, I have patience to endure all this. Enter Chiron and Demetrius. DEMETRIUS. How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! Why | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027095 | doth your highness look so pale and wan? TAMORA. Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? These two have ticed me hither to this place, A barren detested vale you see it is; The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe. Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027096 | owl or fatal raven. And when they showed me this abhorred pit, They told me, here, at dead time of the night, A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, Would make such fearful and confused cries As any mortal body hearing it Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. No sooner had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027097 | they told this hellish tale But straight they told me they would bind me here Unto the body of a dismal yew, And leave me to this miserable death. And then they called me foul adulteress, Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms That ever ear did hear to such effect. And had you not by wondrous fortune come, This | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027098 | vengeance on me had they executed. Revenge it, as you love your mothers life, Or be ye not henceforth called my children. DEMETRIUS. This is a witness that I am thy son. [_Stabs Bassianus._] CHIRON. And this for me, struck home to show my strength. [_Also stabs Bassianus, who dies._] LAVINIA. Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, For no name | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000027099 | fits thy nature but thy own! TAMORA. Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys, Your mothers hand shall right your mothers wrong. DEMETRIUS. Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her. First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw. This minion stood upon her chastity, Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, And with that painted hope braves | 60 | gutenberg |
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