Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee:
Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
Thy brothers are condemned, and dead by this109.--
Look, Marcus, ah, son Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew112
Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
MARCUS Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband, Perchance because she knows them innocent.
TITUS If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.
No, no, they would not do so foul a deed:
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips
Or make some signs how I may do thee ease:121
Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius,
And thou and I sit round about some fountain,
Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks,
How they are stained like meadows yet not dry,
With miry126 slime left on them by a flood?
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,128
And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows131
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues
Plot some device134 of further miseries To make us wondered at in time to come.
LUCIUS Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
Gives a handkerchief
MARCUS Patience, dear niece.-- Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
TITUS Ah, Marcus, Marcus, brother, well I wot139
Thy napkin140 cannot drink a tear of mine, For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
LUCIUS Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
TITUS Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
That to her brother which I said to thee.
His napkin with his true tears all bewet
Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
O, what a sympathy148 of woe is this: As far from help as Limbo149 is from bliss!
Enter Aaron the Moor alone
AARON Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor Sends thee this word: that if thou love thy sons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand
And send it to the king: he for the same
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive --
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
TITUS O gracious emperor, O gentle Aaron!
Did ever raven sing so like a lark
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?
With all my heart, I'll send the emperor my hand.
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
LUCIUS Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine That hath thrown down so many enemies
Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn:
My youth can better spare my blood than you,
And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
MARCUS Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, And reared aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?169
O, none of both170 but are of high desert.
My hand hath been but idle: let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death,
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
AARON Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come.
MARCUS My hand shall go.
LUCIUS By heaven, it shall not go!
TITUS Sirs, strive no more: such withered herbs as these Are meet179 for plucking up, and therefore mine.
LUCIUS Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
MARCUS And for our father's sake and mother's care, Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
TITUS Agree between you: I will spare184 my hand.
LUCIUS Then I'll go fetch an axe.
MARCUS But I will use the axe.
Exeunt [Lucius and Marcus]
TITUS Come hither, Aaron, I'll deceive them both: Lend me thy hand and I will give thee mine.
Aside
AARON If that be called deceit, I will be honest And never whilst I live deceive men so.
But I'll deceive you in another sort,
And that you'll say192, ere half an hour pass.
He cuts off Titus' hand
Enter Lucius and Marcus again
TITUS Now stay your strife193: what shall be is dispatched.
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand:
Tell him it was a hand that warded195 him From thousand dangers: bid him bury it:
More hath it merited: that197 let it have.
As for my sons, say I account of198 them As jewels purchased at an easy price,
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.200
AARON I go, Andronicus, and for thy hand
Look202 by and by to have thy sons with thee.--
Aside
Their heads I mean. O, how this villainy
Doth fat204 me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good and fair205 men call for grace.
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
Exit
TITUS O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven
Kneels
And bow this feeble ruin208 to the earth.
If any power pities wretched tears,
Lavinia kneels
To that I call!-- What, wilt thou kneel with me?
Do then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our prayers,
Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin212 dim, And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
MARCUS O brother, speak with possibilities,215
And do not break into these deep extremes.
TITUS Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions218 bottomless with them.
MARCUS But yet let reason govern thy lament.
TITUS If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes:
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?222
If the winds rage doth not the sea wax mad,
Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoll'n face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?225
I am the sea. Hark how her226 sighs do blow!
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my sea be moved228 with her sighs, Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge overflowed and drowned,
For why my bowels231 cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs234 with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand
Titus and Lavinia may rise here
MESSENGER Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
Sets down the heads and hand
And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back:
Thy griefs their sports239, thy resolution mocked, That240 woe is me to think upon thy woes More than remembrance of my father's death.
Exit
MARCUS Now let hot Aetna242 cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,245
But sorrow flouted246 at is double death.
LUCIUS Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, And yet detested life not shrink248 thereat!
That ever death should let life bear his name,249
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
Lavinia kisses the heads
MARCUS Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless As frozen water to a starved252 snake.
TITUS When will this fearful slumber have an end?
MARCUS Now farewell flattery254, die Andronicus: Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons' heads,
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banished son with this dear257 sight Struck pale and bloodless, and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I control260 thy griefs: Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
TITUS Ha, ha, ha!
MARCUS Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
TITUS Why? I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
And would usurp upon my wat'ry eyes
And make them blind with tributary270 tears.
Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
And threat273 me I shall never come to bliss Till all these mischiefs274 be returned again Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy277 people, circle me about, That I may turn me to each one of you
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
They make a vow
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
And in this hand the other I will bear.
And Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things:
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight:
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there,
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
Exeunt. Lucius remains
LUCIUS Farewell Andronicus, my noble father, The woefull'st man that ever lived in Rome.
Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again.
He loves his pledges292 dearer than his life.
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister,
O, would thou wert as thou tofore294 hast been!
But now nor295 Lucius nor Lavinia lives But296 in oblivion and hateful griefs.
If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.299
Now will I to the Goths and raise a power,300
To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.
Exit Lucius
[Act 3 Scene 2]
running scene 5
A banquet
Enter [Titus] Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia and the Boy [Young Lucius]
TITUS So, so, now sit, and look you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot:4
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want5 our hands And cannot passionate6 our tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize8 upon my breast, Who9, when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.--
To Lavinia
Thou map12 of woe, that thus dost talk in signs, When thy poor heart beats with outrageous13 beating, Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
Wound it with sighing15, girl, kill it with groans, Or get some little knife between thy teeth
And just against thy heart make thou a hole,
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
May run into that sink19, and soaking in Drown the lamenting fool20 in sea-salt tears.
MARCUS Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender22 life.
TITUS How now? Has sorrow made thee dote23 already?
Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
What violent hands can she lay on her life?
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands
To bid Aeneas27 tell the tale twice o'er How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
Lest we remember still30 that we have none.
Fie, fie, how franticly I square31 my talk, As if we should forget we had no hands
If Marcus did not name the word of hands.
Come, let's fall to34, and, gentle girl, eat this.
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says:
I can interpret all her martyred signs --
She says she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brewed with her sorrow, meshed38 upon her cheeks.--
Speechless complainer39, I will learn thy thought.
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect40
As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
Nor wink43, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, But I of these will wrest an alphabet
And by still45 practice learn to know thy meaning.
BOY Good grandsire46, leave these bitter deep laments: Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
MARCUS Alas, the tender48 boy in passion moved Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.49
TITUS Peace, tender sapling, thou art made of tears, And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
Marcus strikes the dish with a knife
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
MARCUS At that that I have killed, my lord: a fly.
TITUS Out on thee54, murderer! Thou kill'st my heart: Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny:
A deed of death done on the innocent
Becomes not Titus' brother. Get thee gone:
I see thou art not for my company.
MARCUS Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly.
TITUS 'But'? How if that fly had a father and mother?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buzz lamenting doings62 in the air!
Poor harmless fly,
That with his pretty buzzing melody
Came here to make us merry, and thou hast killed him.
MARCUS Pardon me, sir, it was a black ill-favoured66 fly, Like to the empress' Moor: therefore I killed him.
TITUS O, O, O!
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on71 him, Flattering myself as if72 it were the Moor Come hither purposely to poison me.--
Takes the knife and strikes
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
Ah, sirrah!75
Yet, I think, we are not brought so low
But that between us we can kill a fly
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
MARCUS Alas, poor man! Grief has so wrought on79 him He takes false shadows for true substances.
TITUS Come, take away81. Lavinia, go with me: I'll to thy closet82, and go read with thee Sad stories chanced83 in the times of old.
Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.85
Exeunt
Act 4 [Scene 1]
running scene 6
Enter Young Lucius and Lavinia running after him, and the Boy flies from her, with his books under his arm
Enter Titus and Marcus
He drops the books
BOY Help, grandsir
e, help! My aunt Lavinia Follows me everywhere, I know not why.
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
MARCUS Stand by me, Lucius: do not fear thy aunt.
TITUS She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
BOY Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
MARCUS What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
TITUS Fear her not, Lucius -- somewhat9 doth she mean: See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee:
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
Ah, boy, Cornelia12 never with more care Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
Sweet poetry and Tully's14 Orator.
Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies15 thee thus?
BOY My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her,
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft
Extremity of griefs would make men mad,
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy20
Ran mad through sorrow: that made me to fear,
Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury24, fright my youth, Which made me down to throw my books and fly,
Causeless perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,27
I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
MARCUS Lucius, I will.
Lavinia turns over the books with her stumps
TITUS How now, Lavinia?-- Marcus, what means this?
Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these?-- Open them, boy.--
To Lavinia
But thou art deeper read, and better skilled:33
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile35 thy sorrow till the heavens Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.
What book?
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence38 thus?
MARCUS I think she means that there was more than one Confederate in the fact40. Ay, more there was, Or else to heaven she heaves41 them for revenge.
TITUS Lucius, what book is that she tosseth42 so?
BOY Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis:
My mother gave it me.
MARCUS For love of her that's gone,
Perhaps she culled46 it from among the rest.
TITUS Soft47, so busily she turns the leaves!
Helps her
What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape --
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.51
MARCUS See, brother, see: note how she quotes52 the leaves.
TITUS Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised53, sweet girl, Ravished and wronged as Philomela was,
Forced in the ruthless, vast55 and gloomy woods?
Lavinia nods
Titus Andronicus & Timon of Athens Page 7
