Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
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¶Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,
¶Then heare me speake indifferently for all:
¶And basely put it vp without reuenge?
¶The Gods of Rome fore-fend,
¶But on mine honour dare, I vndertake
¶For good Lord Titus innocence in all:
¶Nor with sowre lookes afflict his gentle heart.
¶My Lord, be rul'd by me, be wonne at last,
¶You are but newly planted in your Throne,
495Least then the people, and Patricians too,
¶Which Rome reputes to be a hainous sinne.
¶Yeeld at intreats, and then let me alone:
¶And race their faction, and their familie,
¶The cruell Father, and his trayt'rous sonnes,
¶And make them know what 'tis to let a Queene.
505Kneele in the streetes, and beg for grace in vaine.
¶Come, come, sweet Emperour, (come Andronicus)
¶Take vp this good old man, and cheere the heart,
¶That dies in tempest of thy angry frowne.
¶And her my Lord.
¶Infuse new life in me.
515Tamo. Titus, I am incorparate in Rome,
¶A Roman now adopted happily.
¶This day all quarrels die Andronicus.
¶And let it be mine honour good my Lord,
520That I haue reconcil'd your friends and you.
¶My word and promise to the Emperour,
¶That you will be more milde and tractable.
¶And feare not Lords:
525And you Lauinia,
¶By my aduise all humbled on your knees,
¶Son. We doe,
¶And vow to heauen, and to his Highnes,
530That what we did, was mildly, as we might,
¶King. Away and talke not, trouble vs no more.
¶Tamora. Nay, nay,
535Sweet Emperour, we must all be friends,
¶The Tribune and his Nephews kneele for grace,
¶I will not be denied, sweet hart looke back.
¶King. Marcus,
¶For thy sake and thy brothers heere,
540And at my louely Tamora's intreats,
¶I doe remit these young mens haynous faults.
¶Stand vp: Lauinia, though you left me like a churle,
¶I would not part a Batchellour from the Priest.
545Come, if the Emperours Court can feast two Brides,
¶You are my guest Lauinia, and your friends:
¶This day shall be a Loue-day Tamora.
¶To hunt the Panther and the Hart with me,
550With horne and Hound,
¶Weele giue your Grace Bon iour.
¶
Actus Secunda.
555Aron. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus toppe,
¶Secure of Thunders cracke or lightning flash,
¶Aduanc'd about pale enuies threatning reach:
¶As when the golden Sunne salutes the morne,
560And hauing gilt the Ocean with his beames,
¶Gallops the Zodiacke in his glistering Coach,
¶And ouer-lookes the highest piering hills:
¶So Tamora
¶Vpon her wit doth earthly honour waite,
565And vertue stoopes and trembles at her frowne.
¶Then Aaron arme thy hart, and fit thy thoughts,
¶To mount aloft with thy Emperiall Mistris,
¶And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
570And faster bound to Aarons charming eyes,
¶Then is Prometheus ti'de to Caucasus.
¶I will be bright and shine in Pearle and Gold,
575To waite said I? To wanton with this Queene,
¶This Syren, that will charme Romes Saturnine,
¶Hollo, what storme is this?
¶Dem. Chiron thy yeres wants wit, thy wit wants edge
¶And manners to intru'd where I am grac'd,
¶And may for ought thou know'st affected be.
585And so in this, to beare me downe with braues,
¶'Tis not the difference of a yeere or two
¶I am as able, and as fit, as thou,
¶Goe too: haue your Lath glued within your sheath,
¶Till you know better how to handle it.
¶Full well shalt thou perceiue how much I dare.
¶Aron. Why how now Lords?
¶So nere the Emperours Pallace dare you draw,
And
