11351094Titus. Heare me graue Fathers, Noble Tribunes stay,

11361095For pittie of mine age, whose youth was spent

11371096In dangerous warres, whilst you securelie slept.

11381097For all my blood in Roomes great quarrell shed,

11391098For all the frostie nights that I haue watcht,

11401099And for these bitter teares which now you see,

11411100Filling the aged wrincles in my cheeks,

11421101Be pittifull to my condemned sonnes,

11431102Whose soules is not corrupted as tis thought.

11441103For two and twentie sonnes I neuer wept,

11451104Because they died in honours loftie bed,

11471106For these, Tribunes, in the dust I write

11481107My harts deepe languor, and my soules sad teares:

11491108Let my teares staunch the earths drie appetite,

11501109My sonnes sweete blood will make it shame and blush:

11511110O earth I will befriend thee more with raine,

11521111That shall distill from these two auntient ruines,

11531112Than youthfull Aprill shall with all his showres.

E₃ In

11541113In summers drought, Ile drop vpon thee still,

11551114In winter with warme teares Ile melt the snow,

11561115And keepe eternall springtime ou thy face,

11571116So thou refuse to drinke my deare sonnes blood.

11591118Oh reuerent Tribunes, Oh gentle aged men

11601119Vnbinde my sonnes, reuerse the doome of death,

11611120And let me say, (that neuer wept before)

11621121My teares are now preuailing Oratours.

11631122Lucius. Oh Noble Father you lament in vaine,

11641123The Tribunes heare you not, no man is by,

11651124And you recount your sorrowes to a stone.

11661125Titus. Ah Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead,

11671126Graue Tribunes, once more I intreat of you.

11681127Lucius. My gratious Lord, no Tribune heares you speak.

11691128Titus. Why tis no matter man, if they did heare

11701129They would not marke me, if they did marke,

11711130They would not pittie me, yet pleade I must,

1171.11131And bootlesse vnto them.

11721132Therefore I tell my sorrowes to the stones,

11731133who though they cannot answere my distresse,

11741134Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes,

11751135For that they will not intercept my tale:

11761136when I doe weepe, they humblie at my feete

11771137Receiue my teares, and seeme to weepe with me,

11781138And were they but attired in graue weeds,

11791139Rome could afford no Tribunes like to these:

11801140A stone is soft as waxe, Tribunes more hard than stones:

11821141A stone is silent, and offendeth not,

11831142And Tribunes with their tongues doome men to death.

11841143But wherefore standst thou with thy weapon drawne?

11851144Lucius To rescue my two brothers from their death,

11861145For which attempt the Iudges haue pronouncst,

11871146My euerlasting doome of banishment.

11881147Titus. O happie man, they haue befriended thee:

11891148why foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceiue

11901149That Rome is but a wildernes of tygers?

11911150Tygers must pray, and Rome affords no pray

11921151But me and mine, how happie art thou then,

11931152From these deuourers to be banished.

11941153But who comes with our brother Marcus here?

11961155Marcus. Titus, prepare thy aged eies to weepe,

11971156Or if not so, thy Noble hart to breake:

11981157I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.

11991158Titus. will it consume mee? Let me see it then.

12001159Marcus. This was thy Daughter.

12011160Titus. why Marcus so shee is.

12021161Lucius. Ay mee, this Obiect kils mee.

12031162Titus. Faint-harted-boy, arise and looke vpon her.

12041163Speake Lauinea, what accursed hand,

12051164Hath made thee handles in thy fathers sight?

12061165what foole hath added water to the sea?

12071166Or brought a faggot to bright burning Troy?

12081167My griefe was at the height before thou camst,

12091168And now like Nylus it disdaineth bounds.

12101169Giue me a sword Ile choppe off my hands too,

12111170For they haue fought for Rome, and all in vaine:

12121171And they haue nurst this woe, in feeding life:

12141172In bootlesse praier haue they beene held vp,

12151173And they haue serude me to effectles vse.

12161174Now all the seruice I require of them,

12171175Is that the one will helpe to cut the other,

12181176Tis well Lauinia that thou hast no hands,

12191177For hands to doe Rome seruice is but vaine.

12201178Lucius. Speake gentle sister, who hath martred thee.

12211179Marcus. Oh that delightfull engine of her thoughts,

12221180That blabd them with such pleasing eloquence,

12231181Is torne from forth that prettie hollow cage,

12241182Where like a sweete mellodious bird it sung,

12251183Sweete varied notes inchaunting euerie eare.

12261184Lucius. Oh say thou for her, who hath done this deed?

12281185Marcus. Oh thus I found her straying in the Parke,

12291186Seeking to hide herselfe, as doth the Deare

12301187That hath receaude some vnrecuring wound.

12311188Titus. It was my Deare, and he that wounded her,

12331189Hath hurt me more than had he kild me dead:

12341190For now I stand as one vpon a rocke,

12351191Inuirond with a wildernes of sea,

12361192Who markes the waxing tide, grow waue by waue,

12381193Expecting euer when some enuious surge,

12391194Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.

12401195This way to death my wretched sonnes are gone,

12411196Here stands my other sonne a banisht man,

12421197And here my brother weeping at my woes:

12431198But that which giues my soule the greatest spurne

12441199Is deare Lauinia, dearer than my soule.

12451200Had I but seene thy picture in this plight,

12461201It would haue madded me: what shall I doo,

12471202Now I behold thy liuelie bodie so?

12481203Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy teares,

12491204Nor tongue to tell me who hath martred thee:

12501205Thy husband he is dead, and for his death

12511206Thy brothers are condemnde, and dead by this.

12521207Looke Marcus, Ah sonne Lucius looke on her,

12531208When I did name her brothers, then fresh teares

12541209Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honie dew,

12551210Vpon a gathred Lillie almost withered.

12561211Marcus. Perchance shee weepes because they kild her(husband,

12581212Perchance, because shee knowes them innocent.

12591213Titus. If they did kill thy husband then be ioyfull,

12601214Because the Law hath tane reuenge on them.

12611215No, no, they would not doo so fowle a deede,

12621216Witnes the sorrow that their sister makes.

12631217Gentle Lauinia, let me kisse thy lips,

12641218Or make some signe how I may doe thee ease:

12651219Shall thy good Vncle, and thy brother Lucius,

12661220And thou, and I,sit round about some Fountaine,

12671221Looking all downewards to behold our cheekes,

12681222How they are staind like meadowes yet not drie,

12691223With mierie slime left on them by a flood?

12701224And in the fountaine shall wee gaze so long,

12711225Till the fresh tast be taken from that clearenes,

12721226And made a brine pit with our bitter teares?

12731227Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?

12741228Or shall we bite our tongues? and in dumbe showes

12751229Passe the remainder of our hatefull daies?

12761230What shall we doe? Let vs that haue our tongues,

12771231Plot some deuise of further miserie,

12781232To make vs wonderd at in time to come.

12791233Lucius. Sweete father cease your teares, for at your grief

12801234See how my wretched sister sobs and weepes.

12811235Marcus. Patience deare niece, good Titus dry thine eies.

12821236Titus. Ah Marcus, Marcus, Brother well I wote,

12841237Thy napkin cannot drinke a teare of mine,

12851238For thou poore man, hast drownd it with thine owne.

12861239Lucius. Ah my Lauinia, I will wipe thy cheekes.

12871240Titus. Marke Marcus, marke, I vnderstand her signes,

12881241Had shee a tongue to speake, now would shee say

12891242That to her Brother, which I said to thee.

12901243His napking with her true teares all bewet,

12911244Can doe no seruice on her sorrowfull cheekes,

+

12921245Oh what a simpathie of woe is this,

12931246As farre from helpe, as Lymbo is from blisse.

12951248Moore. Titus Andronicus, My Lord the Emperour,

12961249Sends thee this word, that if thou loue thy sonnes,

12971250Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyselfe olde Titus,

F Or

12981251Or any one of you, chop off your hand

12991252And send it to the King, he for the same,

13001253will send thee hither both thy sonnes aliue,

13011254And that shall be the raunsome for their fault.

13021255Titus. Oh gratious Emperour, Oh gentle Aron,

13031256Did euer Rauen sing so like a Larke,

13041257That giues sweete tidings of the Sunnes vprise?

13051258With all my hart, Ile send the Emperour my hand,

13061259Good Aron wilt thou helpe to chop it off?

13071260Lucius. Stay father, for that Noble hand of thine,

13081261That hath throwne downe so many enemies,

13091262Shall not be sent: my hand will serue the turne,

13101263My youth can better spare my bloud than you,

13111264And therefore mine shall saue my brothers liues.

13121265Marcus. which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

13131266And reard aloft the bloudie Battleaxe,

13141267wrighting destruction on the enemies Castle?

13151268Oh none of both, but are of high desert:

13161269My hand hath beene but idle, let it serue

13171270To raunsome my two Nephews from their death,

13181271Then haue I kept it to a worthie ende.

13191272Moore. Nay come agree whose hand shall goe along,

13201273For feare they die before their pardon come.

13211274Marcus. My hand shall goe.

13221275Lucius. By heauen it shall not goe.

13231276Titus. Sirs striue no more, such withred hearbs as these

13241277Are meete for plucking vp, and therefore mine.

13251278Lucius. Sweete father, if I shall be thought thy sonne,

13261279Let me redeeme my brothers both from death.

13271280Marcus. And for our fathers sake, and mothers care,

13281281Now let me show a brothers loue to thee.

13291282Titus. Agree betweene you, I will spare my hand.

13301283Lucius. Then Ile goe fetch an Axe.

13311284Marcus. But I will vse the Axe. Exeunt.

13321285Titus. Come hither Aron, Ile deceiue them both,

13331286Lend me thy hand, and I will giue thee mine.

13341287Moore. If that be calde deceit, I will be honest,

13351288And neuer whilst I liue deceiue men so:

13361289But Ile deceiue you in another sort,

13371290And that youle say ere halfe an houre passe.

13401293Titus. Now stay your strife, what shall be, is dispatcht.

13411294Good Aron giue his Maiestie my hand,

13421295Tell him it was a hand that warded him

13431296From thousand dangers, bid him burie it,

13441297More hath it merited, that let it haue:

13451298As for my sonnes, say I account of them,

13461299As iewels purchasde at an easie price,

13471300And yet deare too, because I bought mine owne.

13481301Aron. I goe Andronicus, and for thy hand,

13491302Looke by and by to haue thy sonnes with thee.

13501303Their heads I meane: Oh how this villanie,

13511304Doth fat me with the verie thoughts of it.

13521305Let fooles doe good, and faire men call for grace,

13531306Aron will haue his soule blacke like his face. Exit.

13541307Titus. Oh here I lift this one hand vp to heauen,

13551308And bow this feeble ruine to the earth,

13561309If any power pitties wretched teares,

13571310To that I call: what wouldst thou kneele with mee?

13581311Doe then deare hart, for heauen shall heare our praiers,

13591312Or with our sighs wele breath the welkin dimme,

13601313And staine the sunne with fogge, as sometime clowds,

13611314When they doe hug him in their melting bosomes.

13621315Marcus. Oh Brother speake with possibilitie,

13631316And doe not breake into these deepe extreames.

13641317Titus. Is not my sorrow deepe hauing no bottome?

F2 Then

13651318Then be my passions bottomlesse with them.

13661319Marcus. But yet let reason gouerne thy lament.

13671320Titus. If there were reason for these miseries,

13681321Then into limits could I binde my woes:

13691322When heauen doth weepe, doth not the earth oreflow?

13701323If the winds rage, doth not the sea waxe mad,

13711324Threatning the welkin with his big swolne face?

13721325And wilt thou haue a reason for this coile?

13731326I am the sea. Harke how her sighs doth flow:

13741327Shee is the weeping welkin, I the earth:

13751328Then must my sea be mooued with her sighs,

13761329Then must my earth with her continuall teares,

13771330Become a deluge: ouerflowed and drownd:

13781331For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes,

13791332But like a drunkard must I vomit them.

13801333Then giue me leaue, for loosers will haue leaue,

13811334To ease their stomacks with their bitter tongues.

13831336Messenger. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid,

13841337For that good hand thou sentst the Emperour:

13851338Here are the heads of thy two Noble sonnes,

13861339And heres thy hand in scorne to thee sent backe:

13871340Thy griefe, their sports: Thy resolution mockt:

13881341That woe is me to thinke vpon thy woes,

13891342More than remembrance of my fathers death.

13901343Marcus. Now let hote AEtna coole in Cycilie,

13911344And be my hart an euerburning hell:

13921345These miseries are more than may be borne.

13931346To weepe with them that weepe doth ease some deale,

13941347But sorrow flowted at, is double death.

13951348Lucius. Ah that this sight should make so deepe a wound

13961349And yet detested life not shrinke thereat:

13971350That euer death should let life beare his name,

13981351Where life hath no more interest but to breath.

13991352Marcus. Alas poore hart, that kisse is comfortlesse,

14001353As frozen water to a starued snake.

14011354Titus. When will this fearefull slumber haue an end?

14021355Mar. Now farewell flattrie, die Andronicus,

14031356Thou dost not slumber, see thy two sonnes heads,

14041357Thy warlike hand, thy mangled Daughter heere:

14051358Thy other banisht sonne with this deere sight,

14061359Strucke pale and bloodlesse, and thy brother I,

14071360Euen like a stony image cold and numme.

14081361Ah now no more will I controwle thy greefes,

14091362Rent off thy siluer haire, thy other hand,

14101363Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismall sight

14111364The closing vp of our most wretched eies:

14121365Now is a time to storme, why art thou still?

14131366Titus. Ha, ha, ha.

14141367M. Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this houre.

14151368Titus. Why I haue not another teare to shed;

14161369Besides this sorrow is an enemie,

14171370And would vsurpe vpon my watrie eies,

14181371And make them blinde with tributarie teares.

14191372Then which way shall I find Reuenges Caue,

14201373For these two heads doe seeme to speake to mee

14211374And threat me, I shall neuer come to blisse,

14221375Till all these mischiefes be returnd againe,

14231376Euen in their throats that hath commited them.

14241377Come let me see what taske I haue to doe,

14251378You heauie people cirkle me about.

14261379That I may turne mee to each one of you,

14271380And sweare vnto my soule to right your wrongs,

14281381The vow is made. Come brother take a head,

14291382And in this hand the other will I beare,

14301383And Lauinia thou shalt be imployde in these Armes,

14311384Beare thou my hand sweet wench betweene thy teeth:

14321385As for thee boy, goe get thee from my sight,

F₃ Thou

14331386Thou art an Exile, and thou must not stay,

14341387Hie to the Gothes and raise an armie there,

14351388And if yee loue me as I thinke you doe,

14361389Lets kisse and part for we haue much to doe.

14381391Lucius. Farewell Andronicus my Noble Father,

14391392The woefulst man that euer liude in Rome:

14401393Farewell proud Rome till Lucius come againe,

14411394He loues his pledges dearer than his life:

14421395Farewell Lauinia my Noble sister,

14431396O would thou wert as thou tofore hast beene,

14441397But now nor Lucius nor Lauinia liues,

14451398But in obliuion and hatefull greefes:

14461399If Lucius liue, he will requite your wrongs,

14471400And make proud Saturnine and his Emperesse,

14481401Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his Queene.

14491402Now will I to the Gothes and raise a powre,

14501403To bee reuengd on Rome and Saturnine.