William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (86 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

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BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY
 
SATURNINUS, eldest son of the late Emperor of Rome; later
Emperor
BASSIANUS, his brother
TITUS ANDRONICUS, a Roman nobleman, general against the Goths
 
LAVINIA, daughter of Titus
YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son of Lucius
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, a tribune of the people, Titus’ brother PUBLIUS, his son
 
A CAPTAIN
 
 
AEMILIUS
 
TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later wife of Saturninus
 
AARON, a Moor, her lover
A NURSE
 
A CLOWN
 
Senators, tribunes, Romans, Goths, soldiers, and attendants
The Most Lamentable Roman Tragedy of Titus Andronicus
 
1.1

Flourish.

Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft, and then enter below Saturninus and his followers at one door and Bassianus and his followers

at the other, with drummer and colours

 
SATURNINUS
Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms.
And countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords.
I am his first-born son that was the last
That ware the imperial diadem of Rome.
Then let my father’s honours live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
BASSIANUS
Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,
If ever Bassianus, Caesar’s son,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol,
And suffer not dishonour to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence, and nobility;
But let desert in pure election shine,
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

Enter

Marcus Andronicus

aloft

with the crown
MARCUS
Princes that strive by factions and by friends
Ambitiously for rule and empery,
Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have by common voice
In election for the Roman empery
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
For many good and great deserts to Rome.
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls.
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,
That with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies’ pride. Five times he hath returned
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field.
And now at last, laden with honour’s spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat by honour of his name
Whom worthily you would have now succeeded,
And in the Capitol and Senate’s right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
SATURNINUS
How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.
BASSIANUS
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy uprightness and integrity,
And so I love and honour thee and thine,
Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome’s rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends
And to my fortunes and the people’s favour
Commit my cause in balance to be weighed.

Exeunt his soldiers and followers

SATURNINUS
Friends that have been thus forward in my right,
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all,
And to the love and favour of my country
Commit myself, my person, and the cause.

Exeunt his soldiers and followers

(
To the Tribunes and Senators
)
Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the gates and let me in.
BASSIANUS
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

Flourish.

They go up into the Senate House
.
Enter a Captain
 
CAPTAIN
Romans, make way. The good Andronicus,
Patron of virtue, Rome’s 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 then enter Martius
and Mutius, two of Titus

sons
,
and then

men
bearing
coffins

covered with black, then Lucius and
Quintus, two other sons; then Titus Andronicus

in
his chariot

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

coffins

, and Titus speaks
 
TITUS
Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his freight
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weighed her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel bows,
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 unappeased,
Nor we disturbed with prodigies on earth.
TITUS
I give him you, the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed Queen.
TAMORA ⌈
kneeling

Stay, Roman brethren! 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 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
Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
Exeunt Titus’ sons with Alarbus
TAMORA ⌈
rising

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 took.
Then, madam, stand resolved; but hope withal
The selfsame 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—
To quit her bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Enter Quintus, Marcus, Mutius, and Lucius, 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 to Rome.
TITUS
Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

Flourish.

Then sound trumpets and lay the

coffins

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.

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