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  • Title: Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)

    • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)

    46The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
    'Tis you must dig with Mattocke, and with Spade,
    And pierce the inmost Center of the earth:
    Then when you come to Plutoes Region,
    1880I pray you deliuer him this petition,
    Tell him it is for iustice, and for aide,
    And that it comes from old Andronicus,
    Shaken with sorrowes in vngratefull Rome.
    Ah Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable,
    1885What time I threw the peoples suffrages
    On him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.
    Goe get you gone, and pray be carefull all,
    And leaue you not a man of warre vnsearcht,
    This wicked Emperour may haue shipt her hence,
    1890And kinsmen then we may goe pipe for iustice.
    Marc. O Publius is not this a heauie case
    To see thy Noble Vnckle thus distract?
    Publ. Therefore my Lords it highly vs concernes,
    By day and night t'attend him carefully:
    1895And feede his humour kindely as we may,
    Till time beget some carefull remedie.
    Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrowes are past remedie.
    Ioyne with the Gothes, and with reuengefull warre,
    Take wreake on Rome for this ingratitude,
    1900And vengeance on the Traytor Saturnine.
    Tit. Publius how now? how now my Maisters?
    What haue you met with her?
    Publ. No my good Lord, but Pluto sends you word,
    If you will haue reuenge from hell you shall,
    1905Marrie for iustice she is so imploy'd,
    He thinkes with Ioue in heauen, or somewhere else:
    So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
    Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delayes,
    Ile diue into the burning Lake below,
    1910And pull her out of Acaron by the heeles.
    Marcus we are but shrubs, no Cedars we,
    No big-bon'd-men, fram'd of the Cyclops size,
    But mettall Marcus, steele to the very backe,
    Yet wrung with wrongs more then our backe can beare:
    1915And sith there's no iustice in earth nor hell,
    We will sollicite heauen, and moue the Gods
    To send downe Iustice for to wreake our wongs:
    Come to this geare, you are a good Archer Marcus.
    He giues them the Arrowes.
    1920Ad Iouem, that's for you: here ad Appollonem,
    Ad Martem, that's for myselfe,
    Heere Boy to Pallas, heere to Mercury,
    To Saturnine, to Caius, not to Saturnine,
    You were as good to shoote against the winde.
    1925Too it Boy, Marcus loose when I bid:
    Of my word, I haue written to effect,
    Ther's not a God left vnsollicited.
    Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the Court,
    We will afflict the Emperour in his pride.
    1930Tit. Now Maisters draw, Oh well said Lucius:
    Good Boy in Virgoes lap, giue it Pallas.
    Marc. My Lord, I aime a Mile beyond the Moone,
    Your letter is with Iupiter by this.
    Tit. Ha, ha, Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
    1935See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus hornes.
    Mar. This was the sport my Lord, when Publius shot,
    The Bull being gal'd, gaue Aries such a knocke,
    That downe fell both the Rams hornes in the Court,
    And who should finde them but the Empresse villaine:
    1940She laught, and told the Moore he should not choose
    But giue them to his Maister for a present.
    Tit. Why there it goes, God giue your Lordship ioy.
    Enter the Clowne with a basket and two Pigeons in it.
    Titus. Newes, newes, from heauen,
    1945Marcus the poast is come.
    Sirrah, what tydings? haue you any letters?
    Shall I haue Iustice, what sayes Iupiter?
    Clowne. Ho the Iibbetmaker, he sayes that he hath ta-
    ken them downe againe, for the man must not be hang'd
    1950till the next weeke.
    Tit. But what sayes Iupiter I aske thee?
    Clowne. Alas sir I know not Iupiter:
    I neuer dranke with him in all my life.
    Tit. Why villaine art not thou the Carrier?
    1955Clowne. I of my Pigions sir, nothing else.
    Tit. Why, did'st thou not come from heauen?
    Clowne. From heauen? Alas sir, I neuer came there,
    God forbid I should be so bold, to presse to heauen in my
    young dayes. Why I am going with my pigeons to the
    1960Tribunall Plebs, to take vp a matter of brawle, betwixt
    my Vncle, and one of the Emperialls men.
    Mar. Why sir, that is as fit as can be to serue for your
    Oration, and let him deliuer the Pigions to the Emperour
    from you.
    1965Tit. Tell mee, can you deliuer an Oration to the Em-
    perour with a Grace?
    Clowne. Nay truely sir, I could neuer say grace in all
    my life.
    Tit. Sirrah come hither, make no more adoe,
    1970But giue your Pigeons to the Emperour,
    By me thou shalt haue Iustice at his hands.
    Hold, hold, meanewhile her's money for thy charges.
    Giue me pen and inke.
    Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliuer a Supplication?
    1975Clowne. I sir
    Titus. Then here is aSupplication for you, and when
    you come to him, at the first approach you must kneele,
    then kisse his foote, then deliuer vp your Pigeons, and
    then looke for your reward. Ile be at hand sir, see you do
    1980it brauely.
    Clowne. I warrant you sir, let me alone.
    Tit. Sirrha hast thou a knife? Come let me see it.
    Heere Marcus, fold it in the Oration,
    For thou hast made it like an humble Suppliant:
    1985And when thou hast giuen it the Emperour,
    Knocke at my dore, and tell me what he sayes.
    Clowne. God be with you sir, I will. Exit.
    Tit. Come Marcus let vs goe, Publius follow me.
    Exeunt.
    1990Enter Emperour and Empresse, and her two sonnes, the
    Emperour brings the Arrowes in his hand
    that Titus shot at him.

    Satur. Why Lords,
    What wrongs are these? was euer seene
    1995An Emperour in Rome thus ouerborne,
    Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent
    Of egall iustice, vs'd in such contempt?
    My Lords, you know the mightfull Gods,
    (How euer these disturbers of our peace
    2000Buz in the peoples eares) there nought hath past,
    But euen with law against the willfull Sonnes
    Of old Andronicus. And what and if
    His sorrowes haue so ouerwhelm'd his wits,
    Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreakes,
    2005His fits, his frenzie, and his bitternesse?
    And now he writes to heauen for his redresse.
    See, heeres to Ioue, and this to Mercury,
    This
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