text stringlengths 0 85 |
|---|
[A table brought in. The company sit down] |
Trumpets sounding, enter TITUS |
like a cook, placing the dishes, and LAVINIA |
with a veil over her face; also YOUNG LUCIUS, and others |
TITUS. Welcome, my lord; welcome, dread Queen; |
Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius; |
And welcome all. Although the cheer be poor, |
'Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it. |
SATURNINUS. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus? |
TITUS. Because I would be sure to have all well |
To entertain your Highness and your Empress. |
TAMORA. We are beholding to you, good Andronicus. |
TITUS. An if your Highness knew my heart, you were. |
My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: |
Was it well done of rash Virginius |
To slay his daughter with his own right hand, |
Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and deflower'd? |
SATURNINUS. It was, Andronicus. |
TITUS. Your reason, mighty lord. |
SATURNINUS. Because the girl should not survive her shame, |
And by her presence still renew his sorrows. |
TITUS. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual; |
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant |
For me, most wretched, to perform the like. |
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; [He kills her] |
And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die! |
SATURNINUS. What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind? |
TITUS. Kill'd her for whom my tears have made me blind. |
I am as woeful as Virginius was, |
And have a thousand times more cause than he |
To do this outrage; and it now is done. |
SATURNINUS. What, was she ravish'd? Tell who did the deed. |
TITUS. Will't please you eat? Will't please your Highness feed? |
TAMORA. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus? |
TITUS. Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius. |
They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue; |
And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. |
SATURNINUS. Go, fetch them hither to us presently. |
TITUS. Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, |
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, |
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. |
'Tis true, 'tis true: witness my knife's sharp point. |
[He stabs the EMPRESS] |
SATURNINUS. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed! |
[He stabs TITUS] |
LUCIUS. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? |
There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. |
[He stabs SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, |
MARCUS, and their friends go up into the balcony] |
MARCUS. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome, |
By uproars sever'd, as a flight of fowl |
Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts? |
O, let me teach you how to knit again |
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, |
These broken limbs again into one body; |
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, |
And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, |
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, |
Do shameful execution on herself. |
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, |
Grave witnesses of true experience, |
Cannot induce you to attend my words, |
[To Lucius] Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor, |
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse |
To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear |
The story of that baleful burning night, |
When subtle Greeks surpris'd King Priam's Troy. |
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears, |
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in |
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound. |
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel; |
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, |
But floods of tears will drown my oratory |
And break my utt'rance, even in the time |
When it should move ye to attend me most, |
And force you to commiseration. |
Here's Rome's young Captain, let him tell the tale; |
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak. |
LUCIUS. Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you |
That Chiron and the damn'd Demetrius |
Were they that murd'red our Emperor's brother; |
And they it were that ravished our sister. |
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, |
Our father's tears despis'd, and basely cozen'd |
Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out |
And sent her enemies unto the grave. |
Lastly, myself unkindly banished, |
The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, |
To beg relief among Rome's enemies; |
Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, |
And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend. |
I am the turned forth, be it known to you, |
That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood |
And from her bosom took the enemy's point, |
Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body. |
Alas! you know I am no vaunter, I; |
My scars can witness, dumb although they are, |
That my report is just and full of truth. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.