Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
50
The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.¶But would it please thee good Andronicus,
¶To send for Lucius thy thrice Valiant Sonne,
¶Who leades towards Rome a Band of Warlike Gothes,
2400And bid him come and Banquet at thy house.
¶When he is heere, euen at thy Solemne Feast,
¶The Emperour himselfe, and all thy Foes,
¶Go gentle Marcus to thy Nephew Lucius,
2410Thou shalt enquire him out among the Gothes,
¶Bid him repaire to me, and bring with him
¶Some of the chiefest Princes of the Gothes,
¶Bid him encampe his Souldiers where they are,
¶This do thou for my loue, and so let him,
¶As he regards his aged Fathers life.
2420And take my Ministers along with me.
¶Or els Ile call my Brother backe againe,
¶And cleaue to no reuenge but Lucius.
2425Whiles I goe tell my Lord the Emperour,
¶How I haue gouern'd our determined iest?
¶And tarry with him till I turne againe.
2430And will ore-reach them in their owne deuises,
¶A payre of cursed hell-hounds and their Dam.
¶Tam. Farewell Andronicus, reuenge now goes
¶To lay a complot to betray thy Foes.
¶Tit. Tut, I haue worke enough for you to doe,
¶Publius come hither, Caius, and Valentine.
¶Pub. What is your will?
¶I take them, Chiron, Demetrius.
¶Titus. Fie Publius, fie, thou art too much deceau'd,
¶The one is Murder, Rape is the others name,
2445And therefore bind them gentle Publius,
¶Caius, and Valentine, lay hands on them,
¶And now I find it, therefore binde them sure,
2450Pub. And therefore do we, what we are commanded.
_
Exeunt.
¶
with a Bason.
2455Tit. Come, come Lauinia, looke, thy Foes are bound,
¶But let them heare what fearefull words I vtter.
¶Oh Villaines, Chiron, and Demetrius,
2460This goodly Sommer with your Winter mixt,
¶You kil'd her husband, and for that vil'd fault,
¶Two of her Brothers were condemn'd to death,
¶My hand cut off, and made a merry iest,
¶Both her sweet Hands, her Tongue, and that more deere
¶Villaines for shame you could not beg for grace.
¶Harke Wretches, how I meane to martyr you,
2470This one Hand yet is left, to cut your throats,
¶The Bason that receiues your guilty blood.
¶You know your Mother meanes to feast with me,
¶And calls herselfe Reuenge, and thinkes me mad.
2475Harke Villaines, I will grin'd your bones to dust,
¶And with your blood and it, Ile make a Paste,
¶And of the Paste a Coffen I will reare,
¶And bid that strumpet your vnhallowed Dam,
¶This is the Feast, that I haue bid her to,
¶And worse then Progne, I will be reueng'd,
2485And now prepare your throats: Lauinia come.
¶Receiue the blood, and when that they are dead,
¶Let me goe grin'd their Bones to powder small,
¶And with this hatefull Liquor temper it,
¶And in that Paste let their vil'd Heads be bakte,
2490Come, come, be euery one officious,
¶To make this Banket, which I wish might proue,
¶
He cuts their throats.
¶So now bring them in, for Ile play the Cooke,
_
Exeunt.
¶That I repair to Rome, I am content.
¶Goth. And ours with thine befall, what Fortune will.
2500Luc. Good Vnckle take you in this barbarous Moore,
¶This Rauenous Tiger, this accursed deuill,
¶Till he be brought vnto the Emperours face,
¶For testimony of her foule proceedings.
¶If ere the Emperour meanes no good to vs.
¶And prompt me that my tongue may vtter forth,
¶The Venemous Mallice of my swelling heart.
2510Luc. Away Inhumaine Dogge, Vnhallowed Slaue,
¶Sirs, helpe our Vnckle, to conuey him in,
Flourish.
¶The Trumpets shew the Emperour is at hand.
¶
Tribunes and others.
2515Sat. What, hath the Firemament more Suns then one?
¶Mar. Romes Emperour & Nephewe breake the parle
¶The Feast is ready which the carefull Titus,
Hath
