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[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 1.1]
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.Flourish. Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft And
enter Saturninus and his Followers at one doore,
and Bassianus and his Followers at the
other, with Drum & Colours.
Patrons of my right,
Defend the iustice of my Cause with
And Countrey- men, my louing Followers,
Pleade my Successiue Title with your Swords.
I was the first borne Sonne, that was the
That wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome:
Then let my Fathers Honours liue in me,
wrong mine Age with this indignitie.
Bassianus. Romaines, Friends, Followers,
of my Right:
If euer Bassianus, Caesars
Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome,
Keepe then this passage to the Capitoll:
And suffer not Dishonour to approach 
Th' Imperiall Seate to Vertue: consecrate
Iustice, Continence, and Nobility:
But let Desert in pure
And Romanes, fight for Freedome in your
Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft with the
Princes, that striue by Factions, and by
Ambitiously for Rule and Empery:
Know, that the people of Rome for whom we stand
A speciall Party, haue by Common voyce
In Election for the Romane Emperie, 
Chosen Andronicus, Sur- named Pious,
For many good and great deserts to Rome.
Nobler man, a brauer Warriour,
Liues not this day within
the City Walles.
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary Warres against the barbarous Gothes,
That with his Sonnes (a terror to our Foes)
Hath yoak'd a Nation strong, train'd vp in Armes.
Ten yeares are spent, since first he vndertooke
This Cause of Rome, and chasticed with Armes
Our Enemies pride. Fiue times he hath
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sonnes
In Coffins from the Field.
And now at last,
laden with Honours Spoyles,
Returnes the good
Andronicus to Rome,
flourishing in Armes.
Let vs intreat, by Honour
of his Name,
Whom (worthily) you would haue now
And in the Capitoll and Senates
Whom you pretend to Honour and Adore,
That you withdraw you, and abate your
Dismisse your Followers, and as Suters
Pleade your Deserts in Peace and Humblenesse.
Saturnine. How fayre the Tribune speakes,
To calme my thoughts.
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affie
In thy vprightnesse
And so I Loue and Honor thee, and
Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his
And Her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all)
Gracious Lauinia, Romes rich
That I will heere dismisse my louing
And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Fauour,
Commit my Cause in ballance to be weigh'd.
Friends, that haue beene
Thus forward in my Right,
I thanke you all, and heere Dismisse you all,
And to the Loue and Fauour of my Countrey,
Commit my Selfe, my Person, and the Cause:
Rome, be as iust and gracious vnto me,
As I am confident and kinde to thee.
the Gates, and let me in.
and me, a poore Competitor.
Flourish. They go vp into the Senat house.
Enter a Captaine. Cap.
Romanes make way: the good Andronicus,
Vertue, Romes best Champion,
Successefull in the Battailes
that he fights,
With Honour and with Fortune is
From whence he circumscribed
with his Sword,
And brought to yoke the Enemies of
Sound Drummes and Trumpets. And then enter two of
Sonnes; After them, two men bearing a Coffin
with blacke, then two other Sonnes. After
Andronicus, and then Tamora the Queene
of Gothes, &
her two Sonnes Chiron and
Demetrius, with Aaron the
Moore, and others, as many
as can bee: They set downe the
Coffin, and Titus
Andronicus. Haile Rome:
Victorious in thy Mourning Weedes:
Loe as the Barke that hath discharg'd his fraught,
Returnes with precious lading to the Bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her Anchorage:
Commeth Andronicus bound with Lawrell bowes,
To resalute his Country with his teares,
Teares of true ioy for his returne to Rome,
Thou great defender of this Capitoll,
gracious to the Rites that we intend.
fiue and twenty Valiant Sonnes, 
of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poore
remaines aliue and dead!
These that Suruiue, let Rome
reward with Loue:
These that I bring vnto their latest
With buriall amongst their Auncestors.
Heere Gothes haue giuen me leaue to sheath my Sword:
Titus vnkinde, and carelesse of thine owne,
Why suffer'st thou thy Sonnes vnburied yet,
To houer on the dreadfull shore of Stix?
Make way to lay them by their Bretheren.
They open the Tombe.There greete in
silence as the dead are wont,
And sleepe in peace, slaine
in your Countries warres:
O sacred receptacle of my
Sweet Cell of vertue and Nobilitie,
How many Sonnes of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt neuer render to me more?
Luc. Giue vs the proudest prisoner of the
That we may hew his limbes, and on a
Ad manus fratrum, sacrifice his flesh:
Before this earthly prison of their
That so the shadowes be not vnappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I giue him you, the Noblest that
The eldest Son of this distressed Queene.
Tam. Stay Romaine
Bretheren, gracious Conqueror,
rue the teares I shed,
A Mothers teares in passion for her
And if thy Sonnes were euer deere to
Oh thinke my sonnes to be as deere to mee.
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to
To beautifie thy Triumphs, and returne
Captiue to thee, and to thy Romaine yoake,
But must my Sonnes be slaughtred in the streetes,
For Valiant doings in their Countries cause?
O! If to fight for King and Common- weale,
Were piety in thine, it is in these:
Andronicus, staine not thy Tombe with blood.
Wilt thou draw neere the nature of the Gods?
Draw neere them then in being mercifull.
Sweet mercy is Nobilities true badge,
Thrice Noble Titus, spare my first borne sonne.
Tit. Patient your selfe Madam, and pardon
These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes beheld
Aliue and dead, and for their Bretheren slaine,
Religiously they aske a sacrifice:
your sonne is markt, and die he must,
T' appease their
groaning shadowes that are gone.
with him, and make a fire straight,
And with our
Swords vpon a pile of wood, 
his limbes till they be cleane consum'd.
Exit Sonnes with Alarbus.
Tamo. O cruell irreligious piety.
Chi. Was euer Scythia halfe so barbarous?
Dem. Oppose me Scythia to ambitious Rome,
Alarbus goes to rest, andwe suruiue,
To tremble vnder Titus threatning lookes,
Then Madam stand resolu'd, but hope withall,
The selfe same Gods that arm'd the Queene of Troy
With opportunitie of sharpe reuenge 
Vpon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,
fauour Tamora the Queene of Gothes,
were Gothes, and Tamora was Queene)
To quit the
bloody wrongs vpon her foes.
Enter the Sonnes of Andronicus againe. Luci. See Lord and Father, how we haue
Our Romaine rightes, Alarbus limbs are
And intrals feede the sacrifising fire,
Whole smoke like incense doth perfume the skie.
Remaineth nought but to interre our Brethren,
And with low'd Larums welcome them to
Tit. Let it be so, and let
Make this his latest farewell to their
Then Sound Trumpets, and lay the
Coffins in the Tombe.
In peace and Honour rest you
heere my Sonnes,
Romes readiest Champions, repose you
heere in rest,
Secure from worldly chaunces and
Heere lurks no Treason, heere no enuie
Heere grow no damned grudges, heere are no
No noyse, but silence and
In peace and Honour rest you heere my
Laui. In peace and Honour, liue Lord Titus long,
My Noble Lord and Father, liue in Fame:
Loe at this Tombe my tributarie teares,
render for my Bretherens Obsequies:
And at thy feete I
kneele, with teares of ioy
Shed on the earth for thy
returne to Rome.
O blesse me heere with thy
victorious hand, 
Whose Fortune Romes
best Citizens applau'd.
Ti. Kind Rome,
That hast thus louingly reseru'd
Cordiall of mine age to glad my hart,
out- liue thy Fathers dayes:
And Fames eternall date for
Marc. Long liue Lord
Titus, my beloued brother,
Gracious Triumpher in
the eyes of Rome.
Tit. Thankes Gentle
Noble brother Marcus.
Mar. And welcome Nephews from
You that suruiue and you that sleepe in
Faire Lords your Fortunes are all alike in
That in your Countries seruice drew your
But safer Triumph is this Funerall Pompe,
That hath aspir'd to Solons Happines,
And Triumphs ouer chaunce in honours bed.
Titus Andronicus, the people of
Whose friend in iustice thou hast euer
Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,
This Palliament of white and spotlesse
And name thee in Election for the Empire,
With these our late deceased Emperours Sonnes:
Be Candidatus then, and put it on,
And helpe to set a head on headlesse Rome.
Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits,
Then his that shakes for age and feeblenesse:
What should I don this Robe and trouble
Be chosen with proclamations to day,
To morrow yeeld vp rule, resigne my life,
And set abroad new businesse for you
Rome I haue bene thy Souldier forty yeares,
And led my Countries strength successefully,
And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonnes,
Knighted in Field, slaine manfully in Armes,
In right and Seruice of their Noble Countrie:
Giue me a staffe of Honour for mine age,
But not a Scepter to controule the world,
Vpright he held it Lords, that held it last.
Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtaine and aske the
Sat. Proud and
ambitious Tribune can'st thou tell?
Patience Prince Saturninus.
Romaines do me right.
Patricians draw your Swords, and
sheath them not
Till Saturninus be Romes
Andronicus would thou wert shipt to
Rather then rob me of the peoples harts.
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the
That Noble minded Titus meanes to
Tit. Content thee Prince, I will
restore to thee 
The peoples harts, and
weane them from themselues.
Andronicus, I do not flatter thee
But Honour thee,
and will doe till I die:
My Faction if thou strengthen
with thy Friend?
I will most thankefull be, and thankes to
Of Noble mindes, is Honourable Meede.
Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes heere,
I aske your voyces and your Suffrages,
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Tribunes. To gratifie the good Andronicus,
And Gratulate his safe returne to
The people will accept whom he admits.
Tit. Tribunes I thanke you, and this sure I
That you Create your Emperours eldest sonne,
Lord Saturnine, whose Vertues will I hope,
Reflect on Rome as Tytans Rayes on earth,
And ripen Iustice in this Common- weale:
Then if you will elect by my aduise,
Crowne him, and say: Long liue our Emperour.
Mar. An. With Voyces and applause of euery
Patricians and Plebeans we
Lord Saturninus Romes Great Emperour.
And say, Long liue our Emperour Saturnine.
A long Flourish till they come downe. Satu. Titus Andronicus, for thy Fauours
To vs in our Election this day,
I giue thee thankes in part of thy Deserts,
And will with Deeds requite thy gentlenesse:
And for an Onset Titus to aduance
Thy Name, and Honorable Familie, 
Lauinia will I make my Empresse,
Mistris, Mistris of my hart
And in the Sacred
Pathan her espouse:
Tell me Andronicus doth
this motion please thee?
Tit. It doth my
worthy Lord, and in this match,
I hold me Highly Honoured
of your Grace,
And heere in sight of Rome, to
King and Commander of our Common-
The Wide- worlds Emperour, do I
My Sword, my Chariot, and my Prisoners,
Presents well Worthy Romes Imperiall
Receiue them then, the Tribute that I owe,
Mine Honours Ensignes humbled at my feete.
Satu. Thankes Noble Titus, Father of my
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts
Rome shall record, and when I do forget
The least of these vnspeakable Deserts,
Romans forget your Fealtie to me.
Tit. Now Madam are you prisoner to an Emperour,
To him that for your Honour and your State,
Will vse you Nobly and your followers.
Satu. A goodly Lady, trust me of the Hue
That I would choose, were I to choose a new:
Cleere vp Faire Queene that cloudy countenance,
Though chance of warre
Hath wrought this
change of cheere,
Thou com'st not to be made a scorne in
Princely shall be thy vsage euery way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes: Madam he comforts you,
Can make you Greater then the Queene of
Lauinia you are not displeas'd with
Lau. Not I my Lord, sith true
Warrants these words in Princely
Sat. Thankes sweete
Lauinia, Romans let vs goe:
Ransomlesse heere we
set our Prisoners free,
Proclaime our Honors Lords with
Trumpe and Drum.
Bass. Lord Titus by
your leaue, this Maid is mine.
Tit. How sir?
Are you in earnest then my Lord?
I Noble Titus, and resolu'd withall, 
To doe my selfe this reason, and this right.
Marc. Suum cuiquam, is our Romane
This Prince in Iustice ceazeth but his
Luc. And that he will and shall, if
Tit. Traytors auant,
where is the Emperours Guarde?
Treason my Lord,
Lauinia is surpris'd.
Bass. By him that iustly may
Beare his Betroth'd, from all the world away.
Muti. Brothers helpe to conuey her hence away,
And with my Sword Ile keepe this doore
Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile soone
bring her backe.
Mut. My Lord you passe not
Tit. What villaine Boy, bar'st me my
way in Rome?
Mut. Helpe Lucius helpe.
He kils him
Luc. My Lord you are vniust, and more then
In wrongfull quarrell, you haue slaine your son.
Tit. Nor thou, nor he are any sonnes of
My sonnes would neuer so dishonour me.
Traytor restore Lauinia to the Emperour.
Luc. Dead if you will, but not
to be his wife,
That is anothers lawfull promist
Enter aloft the Emperour with Tamora and her two
sonnes, and Aaron the Moore.
Empe. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stocke:
Ile trust by Leisure him that mocks me once.
Thee neuer: nor thy Trayterous haughty sonnes,
Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.
Was none in Rome to make a stale 
But Saturnine? Full well Andronicus
Agree these Deeds, with that proud bragge of thine,
That said'st, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands.
Tit. O monstrous, what reproachfull words are
Sat. But goe thy wayes, goe giue that
To him that flourisht for her with his
A Valliant sonne in- law thou shalt enioy:
One, fit to bandy with thy lawlesse Sonnes,
To ruffle in the Common- wealth of Rome.
Tit. These words are Razors to my wounded hart.
Sat. And therefore
louely Tamora Queene of Gothes,
That like the
stately Thebe mong'st her Nimphs
Dost ouer- shine
the Gallant'st Dames of Rome,
If thou be pleas'd with this
my sodaine choyse,
Behold I choose thee Tamora for
And will Create thee Empresse of Rome.
Speake Queene of Goths dost thou applau'd my choyse?
And heere I sweare by all the Romaine Gods,
Sith Priest and Holy- water are so neere,
And Tapers burne so bright, and euery thing
In readines for Hymeneus stand,
I will not resalute the streets of Rome,
Or clime my Pallace, till from forth this place,
I leade espous'd my Bride along with me,
Tamo. And heere in sight of heauen to Rome I
If Saturnine aduance the Queen of
Shee will a Hand- maid be to his desires,
A louing Nurse, a Mother to his youth.
Satur. Ascend Faire Qeene,
Panthean Lords, accompany 
Your Noble Emperour and his louely Bride,
Sent by the heauens for Prince Saturnine,
Whose wisedome hath her Fortune Conquered,
There shall we Consummate our Spousall rites.
Tit. I am
not bid to waite vpon this Bride:
Titus when wer't
thou wont to walke alone,
Dishonoured thus and Challenged
Enter Marcus and Titus Sonnes. Mar. O Titus see! O see what thou hast
In a bad quarrell, slaine a
Tit. No foolish Tribune, no:
No sonne of mine,
Nor thou, nor these Confedrates in the
That hath dishonoured all our Family,
Vnworthy brother, and vnworthy Sonnes.
Luci. But let vs giue him buriall as
Giue Mutius buriall with our
Tit. Traytors away, he rest's not
in this Tombe:
This Monument fiue hundreth yeares hath
Which I haue Sumptuously re- edified:
Heere none but Souldiers, and Romes
Repose in Fame: None basely slaine in
Bury him where you can, he comes not heere.
Mar. My Lord this is impiety in you,
My Nephew Mutius deeds do plead for him,
He must be buried with his bretheren.
Titus two Sonnes speakes.And shall,
or him we will accompany.
Ti. And shall!
What villaine was it spake that word?
Titus sonne speakes. He
that would vouch'd it in any place but heere.
Tit. What would you bury him in my despight?
Mar. No Noble Titus, but intreat of thee,
pardon Mutius, and to bury him.
Marcus, Euen thou hast stroke vpon my Crest,
with these Boyes mine Honour thou hast wounded,
My foes I
doe repute you euery one.
So trouble me no more, but get
1.Sonne. He is not himselfe, let
2.Sonne. Not I tell
Mutius bones be buried. 
The Brother and the sonnes kneele. Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature
2.Sonne. Father, and in
that name doth nature speake.
thou no more if all the rest will speede.
Mar. Renowned Titus more then halfe my soule.
Luc. Deare Father, soule and substance of vs
Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus
His Noble Nephew heere in vertues nest,
That died in Honour and Lauinia's cause.
Thou art a Romaine, be not barbarous: 
The Greekes vpon aduise did bury Aiax
That slew himselfe: And Laertes sonne,
Did graciously plead for his Funerals:
not young Mutius then that was thy ioy,
his entrance heere.
Tit. Rise Marcus,
The dismall'st day is this that ere I saw,
To be dishonored by my Sonnes in Rome:
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
They put him in the Tombe. 
Luc. There lie thy bones sweet Mutius with
Till we with Trophees do adorne thy Tombe.
They all kneele and say.No man shed
teares for Noble Mutius,
He liues in Fame, that
di'd in vertues cause.
Mar. My Lord to step out of
these sudden dumps,
How comes it that the subtile Queene
Is of a sodaine thus aduanc'd in Rome?
Ti. I know not Marcus: but I know it
(Whether by deuise or no) the heauens can tell,
Is she not then beholding to the
That brought her for this high good turne so
Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.
Enter the Emperor, Tamora, and her two sons, with the
at one doore. Enter at the other doore Bassianus and
Lauinia with others.
Sat. So Bassianus, you haue plaid your prize,
God giue you ioy sir of your Gallant Bride.
Bass. And you of yours my Lord: I say no more,
Nor wish no lesse, and so I take my
Sat. Traytor, if Rome haue law, or we
Thou and thy Faction shall repent this
Bass. Rape call you it my Lord, to
cease my owne,
My true betrothed Loue, and now my
But let the lawes of Rome determine all,
Meane while I am possest of that is mine.
Sat. 'Tis good sir: you are very short with
But if we liue, weele be as sharpe with
Bass. My Lord, what I haue done
as best I may, 
Answere I must, and
shall do with my life,
Onely thus much I giue your Grace
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus heere,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
in the rescue of Lauinia,
With his owne hand did
slay his youngest Son,
In zeale to you, and highly mou'd
To be controul'd in that he frankly
Receiue him then to fauour Saturnine,
That hath expre'st himselfe in all his
A Father and a friend to thee, and Rome.
Tit. Prince Bassianus leaue to plead my
'Tis thou, and those, that haue dishonoured
Rome and the righteous heauens be my iudge,
How I haue lou'd and Honour'd Saturnine.
Tam. My worthy Lord if euer Tamora,
Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,
Then heare me speake indifferently for all:
And at my sute (sweet) pardon what is past.
Satu. What Madam, be
And basely put it vp without
Tam. Not so my Lord,
The Gods of Rome fore- fend,
I should be
Authour to dishonour you.
But on mine honour dare, I
For good Lord Titus innocence in
Whose fury not dissembled speakes his griefes:
Then at my sute looke graciously on him,
Loose not so noble a friend on vaine suppose,
Nor with sowre lookes afflict his gentle
My Lord, be rul'd by me, be wonne at last,
Dissemble all your griefes and discontents,
You are but newly planted in your Throne,
Least then the people, and Patricians too,
Vpon a iust suruey take Titus part,
And so supplant vs for ingratitude,
Rome reputes to be a hainous sinne.
Yeeld at intreats, and
then let me alone:
Ile finde a day to massacre them
And race their faction, and their
The cruell Father, and his trayt'rous
To whom I sued for my deare sonnes life.
And make them know what 'tis to let a Queene.
Kneele 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.
King. Rise Titus, rise,
My Empresse hath preuail'd. 
Titus. I thanke your Maiestie,
And her my Lord.
These words, these
Infuse new life in me.
Tamo. Titus, I am incorparate in
A Roman now adopted happily.
And must aduise the Emperour for his good,
This day all quarrels die Andronicus.
And let it be mine honour good my Lord,
That I haue reconcil'd your friends and you.
For you Prince Bassianus, I haue
My word and promise to the Emperour,
That you will be more milde and tractable.
And feare not Lords:
By my aduise all humbled on your
You shall aske pardon of his Maiestie.
Son. We doe,
And vow to
heauen, and to his Highnes,
That what we did, was
mildly, as we might, 
sisters honour and our owne.
Mar. That on
mine honour heere I do protest.
and talke not, trouble vs no more.
Sweet Emperour, we must all be friends,
The Tribune and his Nephews kneele for grace,
I will not be denied, sweet hart looke back.
sake and thy brothers heere,
And 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 found a friend, and
sure as death I sware,
I would not part a
Batchellour from the Priest.
Come, if the Emperours Court
can feast two Brides,
You are my guest Lauinia, and
This day shall be a Loue- day
Tit. To morrow and it please
To hunt the Panther and the Hart with
With horne and Hound, 
Weele giue your Grace Bon iour.
Satur. Be it so Titus, and Gramercy to.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 2.1]
Enter Aaron alone. Aron.
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus toppe,
Safe out of
Fortunes shot, and sits aloft,
Secure of Thunders cracke
or lightning flash,
Aduanc'd about pale enuies threatning
As when the golden Sunne salutes the
And hauing gilt the Ocean with his beames,
Gallops the Zodiacke in his glistering
And ouer- lookes the highest piering hills:
Vpon her wit doth earthly
And vertue stoopes and trembles at her
Then Aaron arme thy hart, and fit thy
To mount aloft with thy Emperiall Mistris,
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held, fettred in amorous chaines,
And faster bound to Aarons charming eyes,
Then is Prometheus ti'de to
Away with slauish weedes, and idle
I will be bright and shine in Pearle and
To waite vpon this new made Empresse.
To waite said I? To wanton with this Queene,
This Goddesse, this Semerimis, this Queene.
This Syren, that will charme Romes Saturnine,
And see his shipwracke, and his Common weales.
Hollo, what storme is this?
Enter Chiron and Demetrius brauing.  Dem. Chiron thy yeres wants wit, thy wit
And manners to intru'd where I am grac'd,
And may for ought thou know'st affected be.
Chi. Demetrius, thou doo'st ouer- weene in
And so in this, to beare me downe with braues,
'Tis not the difference of a yeere or two
Makes me lesse gracious, or thee more fortunate:
I am as able, and as fit, as thou,
serue, and to deserue my Mistris grace,
And that my
sword vpon thee shall approue, 
plead my passions for Lauinia's loue.
Aron. Clubs, clubs, these louers will not keep the peace.
Dem. Why Boy, although our mother
Gaue you a daunsing Rapier by your side,
Are you so desperate growne to threat your friends?
Goe too: haue your Lath glued within your sheath,
Till you know better how to handle it.
Chi. Meane while sir, with the little skill I
Full well shalt thou perceiue how much I
Deme. I Boy, grow ye so braue?
Aron. Why how now Lords?
So nere the Emperours Pallace dare you draw,
And maintaine such a quarrell openly?
well I wote, the ground of all this grudge.
I would not
for a million of Gold,
The cause were knowne to them it
Nor would your noble mother for much
Be so dishonored in the Court of Rome:
For shame put vp.
Deme. Not I, till I haue sheath'd 
My rapier in his bosome, and withall
Thrust these reprochfull speeches downe his throat,
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour heere.
Chi. For that I am prepar'd, and full
Foule spoken Coward,
thundrest with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing
Aron. A way I say.
Now by the Gods that warlike Gothes adore,
This pretty brabble will vndoo vs all: 
Why Lords, and thinke you not how dangerous
It is to set vpon a Princes right?
Lauinia then become so loose,
That for her loue such quarrels may be
Without controulement, Iustice, or reuenge?
Young Lords beware, and should the Empresse know,
This discord ground, the musicke would not please.
Chi. I care not I, knew she and all the
I loue Lauinia more then all the
Learne thou to make some meaner choise,
Lauinia is thine elder brothers hope.
Aron. Why are ye mad? Or know ye not in
How furious and impatient they be,
And cannot brooke Competitors in loue?
tell you Lords, you doe but plot your deaths,
Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths
would I propose,
To atchieue her whom I do loue.
Aron. To atcheiue her,
Deme. Why, mak'st thou it so
Shee is a woman, therefore may be woo'd,
Shee is a woman, therfore may be wonne,
Shee is Lauinia therefore must be lou'd.
What man, more water glideth by the Mill
Then wots the Miller of, and easie it is
Of a cut loafe to steale a shiue we know:
Though Bassianus be the Emperours brother,
Better then he haue worne Vulcans badge.
Aron, I, and as good as
Deme. Then why should
he dispaire that knowes to
With words, faire lookes, and
liberality: (court it
What hast not thou full often
strucke a Doe,
And borne her cleanly by the Keepers
Aron. Why then it seemes some certaine
snatch or so
Would serue your turnes.
Chi. I so the turne were serued.
Deme. Aaron thou hast hit it.
Aron. Would you had hit it too,
Then should not we be tir'd with this
Why harke yee, harke yee, and are you such
To square for this? Would it offend you
Chi. Faith not me.
Deme. Nor me, so I were one.
Aron. For shame be friends, & ioyne for that
'Tis pollicie, and stratageme must doe
That you affect, and so must you resolue,
That what you cannot as you would atcheiue,
You must perforce accomplish as you may:
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more
Then this Lauinia, Bassianus
A speedier course this lingring languishment
Must we pursue, and I haue found the path:
My Lords, a solemne hunting is in hand.
There will the louely Roman Ladies troope:
The Forrest walkes are wide and spacious,
And many vnfrequented plots there are,
Fitted by kinde for rape and villanie:
Single you thither then this dainty Doe,
And strike her home by force, if not by
This way or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our Empresse with her sacred wit
To villainie and vengance consecrate,
we acquaint with all that we intend,
And she shall file
our engines with aduise,
That will not suffer you to
square your selues,
But to your wishes height aduance you
The Emperours Court is like the house of
The pallace full of tongues, of eyes, of
The Woods are ruthlesse,
dreadfull, deafe, and dull:
There speake, and strike braue
Boyes, & take your turnes.
There serue your lusts,
shadow'd from heauens eye,
And reuell in Lauinia's
Chi. Thy counsell Lad smells of
fas aut nefas, till I finde the streames,
this heat, a Charme to calme their fits,
Per Stigia per
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 2.2]
Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sonnes, making a
noysewith hounds and hornes, and Marcus.  Tit. The hunt is vp, the morne is bright and
The fields are fragrant, and the Woods are
Vncouple heere, and let vs make a bay,
And wake the Emperour, and his louely Bride,
And rouze the Prince, and ring a hunters peale,
That all the Court may eccho with the noyse.
Sonnes let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the Emperours person carefully:
I haue bene troubled in my sleepe this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.
Heere a cry of houndes, and winde hornes in a peale,
Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lauinia, Chiron,
metrius, and their Attendants. Ti. Many good morrowes to your Maiestie,
Madam to you as many and as good.
promised your Grace, a Hunters peale.
And you haue rung it lustily my Lords,
Somewhat to earely
for new married Ladies.
Lauinia, how say you? 
Laui. I say no:
I haue bene awake two houres and
Satur. Come on then, horse and
Chariots let vs haue,
And to our sport: Madam, now shall
Our Romaine hunting.
Mar. I haue dogges my Lord,
Will rouze the proudest
Panther in the Chase,
And clime the highest Promontary
Tit. And I haue horse will follow where
Makes way, and runnes likes Swallowes ore
the plaine 
Deme. Chiron we hunt not we, with Horse nor
But hope to plucke a dainty Doe to ground.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 2.3]
Enter Aaron alone. Aron.
He that had wit, would thinke that I had none,
To bury so
much Gold vnder a Tree,
And neuer after to inherit
Let him that thinks of me so abiectly,
Know that this Gold must coine a stratageme,
Which cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent peece of villany: 
And so repose sweet Gold for their vnrest,
That haue their Almes out of the Empresse Chest.
Enter Tamora to the Moore.
Tamo. My louely Aaron,
When euery thing doth make a Gleefull
The Birds chaunt melody on euery bush,
The Snake lies rolled in the chearefull Sunne,
The greene leaues quiuer, with the cooling winde,
And make a cheker'd shadow on the ground:
Vnder their sweete shade, Aaron let vs
And whil'st the babling Eccho mock's the
Replying shrilly to the well tun'd‹Hornes,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let vs sit downe, and marke their yelping noyse:
And after conflict, such as was suppos'd.
The wandring Prince and Dido once enioy'd,
When with a happy storme they were surpris'd,
And Curtain'd with a Counsaile keeping Caue,
We may each wreathed in the others armes,
(Our pastimes done) possesse a Golden
Whiles Hounds and Hornes, and sweet Melodious
Be vnto vs, as is a Nurses Song
Of Lullabie, to bring her Babe asleepe.
Venus gouerne your desires,
Saturne is Dominator
What signifies my deadly standing eye,
My silence, and my Cloudy Melancholie,
My fleece of Woolly haire, that now vncurles,
Euen as an Adder when she doth vnrowle
To do some fatall execution?
these are no Veneriall signes,
Vengeance is in my heart,
death in my hand,
Blood, and reuenge, are Hammering in my
Harke Tamora, the Empresse of my Soule,
Which neuer hopes more heauen, then rests in thee,
This is the day of Doome for Bassianus;
His Philomel must loose her tongue to day,
Thy Sonnes make Pillage of her Chastity,
And wash their hands in Bassianus
Seest thou this Letter, take it vp I pray
And giue the King this fatall plotted Scrowle,
Now question me no more, we are espied,
Heere comes a parcell of our hopefull Booty,
Which dreads not yet their liues destruction.
Enter Bassianus and Lauinia.
Tamo. Ah my sweet Moore:
Sweeter to me then
Aron. No more great Empresse,
Bassianus comes, 
Be crosse with
him, and Ile goe fetch thy Sonnes
To backe thy quarrell
what so ere they be.
Bassi. Whom haue we
Romes Royall Empresse,
Vnfurnisht of our well beseeming troope?
Or is it Dian habited like her,
hath abandoned her holy Groues,
To see the generall
Hunting in this Forrest?
controuler of our priuate steps:
Had I the power,
that some say Dian had, 
Temples should be planted presently.
With Hornes, as was
Acteons, and the Hounds
Should driue vpon his new
Vnmannerly Intruder as thou art.
Laui. Vnder your patience gentle Empresse,
'Tis thought you haue a goodly gift in Horning,
And to be doubted, that your Moore and you
Are singled forth to try experiments:
Ioue sheild your husband from his Hounds to
'Tis pitty they should take him for a Stag.
Bassi. Beleeue me
Queene, your swarth Cymerion,
Doth make your Honour of his
Spotted, detested, and abhominable.
Why are you sequestred from all your traine?
Dismounted from your Snow white goodly Steed,
And wandred hither to an obscure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moore,
If foule desire had not conducted you?
Laui. And being intercepted in your
Great reason that my Noble Lord, be rated
For Saucinesse, I pray you let vs
And let her ioy her Rauen coloured loue,
This valley fits the purpose passing well.
Bassi. The King my Brother shall haue notice of
Laui. I, for these slips haue made him
Good King, to be so mightily abused.
Tamora. Why I haue patience to endure all
Enter Chiron and Demetrius.
Dem. How now deere Soueraigne
gracious Mother, 
Why doth your Highnes
looke so pale and wan?
Tamo. Haue I not
reason thinke you to looke pale.
These two haue tic'd me
hither to this place,
A barren, detested vale you see it
The Trees though Sommer, yet forlorne and leane,
Ore come with Mosse, and balefull Misselto.
Heere neuer shines the Sunne, heere nothing breeds,
Vnlesse the nightly Owle, or fatall Rauen:
And when they shew'd me this abhorred pit,
They told me heere at dead time of the night,
A thousand Fiends, a thousand hissing
Ten thousand swelling Toades, as many
Would make such fearefull and confused
As any mortall body hearing it,
Should straite fall mad, or else die suddenly.
No sooner had they told this hellish tale,
But strait they told me they would binde me heere,
Vnto the body of a dismall yew,
me to this miserable death.
And then they call'd me
foule Adulteresse, 
and all the bitterest tearmes
That euer eare did heare to
And had you not by wondrous fortune
This vengeance on me had they executed:
Reuenge it, as you loue your Mothers life,
Or be ye not henceforth cal'd my Children.
Dem. This is a witnesse that I am thy Sonne.
Chi. And this for me,
Strook home to shew my strength.
Laui. I come Semeramis, nay Barbarous
For no name fits thy nature but thy owne.
Tam. Giue me thy poyniard, you shal know my
Your Mothers hand shall right your Mothers
Deme. Stay Madam heere is more
belongs to her,
First thrash the Corne, then after burne
This Minion stood vpon her chastity,
Vpon her Nuptiall vow, her loyaltie.
with that painted hope, braues your Mightinesse,
she carry this vnto her graue?
And if she doe, 
I would I were an
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
And make his dead Trunke- Pillow to our lust.
Tamo. But when ye haue the hony we desire,
Let not this Waspe out- liue vs both to sting.
Chir. I warrant you Madam we will make that
Come Mistris, now perforce we will enioy,
That nice- preserued honesty of yours.
Laui. Oh Tamora, thou bear'st a woman
Tamo. I will not heare her
speake, away with her. 
Laui. Sweet Lords intreat her heare me but a word.
Demet. Listen faire Madam, let it be your
To see her teares, but be your hart to them,
As vnrelenting flint to drops of raine.
Laui. When did the Tigers young- ones teach the
O doe not learne her wrath, she taught it thee,
The milke thou suck'st from her did turne to Marble,
Euen at thy Teat thou had'st thy Tyranny,
Yet euery Mother breeds not Sonnes alike,
Do thou intreat her shew a woman pitty.
Would'st thou haue me proue my selfe a bastard?
Laui. 'Tis true,
doth not hatch a Larke,
Yet haue I heard, Oh could I finde
The Lion mou'd with pitty, did indure
To haue his Princely pawes par'd all away.
Some say, that Rauens foster forlorne children,
The whil'st their owne birds famish in their nests:
Oh be to me though thy hard hart say no,
Nothing so kind but something
Tamo. I know not what it meanes,
away with her.
Lauin. Oh let me teach thee
for my Fathers sake,
That gaue thee life when well he
might haue slaine thee:
Be not obdurate, open thy deafe
Tamo. Had'st thou in person nere
Euen for his sake am I pittilesse:
Remember Boyes I powr'd forth teares in vaine,
To saue your brother from the sacrifice,
But fierce Andronicus would not relent,
Therefore away with her, and vse her as you
The worse to her, the better lou'd of me.
Laui. Oh Tamora,
call'd a gentle Queene,
And with thine owne hands kill me
in this place,
For 'tis not life that I haue beg'd so
Poore I was slaine, when Bassianus
Tam. What beg'st thou then? fond woman
let me go?
Laui. 'Tis present death I beg,
and one thing more,
That womanhood denies my tongue
to tell: 
Oh keepe me from their worse
then killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome
Where neuer mans eye may behold my body,
Doe this, and be a charitable murderer.
Tam. So should I rob my sweet Sonnes of their
No let them satisfie their lust on thee.
For thou hast staid vs heere too long.
Lauinia. No Garace,
womanhood? Ah beastly creature, 
blot and enemy to our generall name,
Chi. Nay then Ile stop
Bring thou her husband,
This is the Hole where Aaron bid vs hide him.
Tam. Farewell my Sonnes, see that you make her
Nere let my heart know merry cheere indeed,
Till all the Andronici be made away:
Now will I hence to seeke my louely Moore,
And let my spleenefull Sonnes this Trull defloure.
Enter Aaron with two of Titus Sonnes. Aron. Come on my Lords, the better foote
Straight will I bring you to the lothsome
Where I espied the Panther fast asleepe.
Quin. My sight is very dull what ere it
Marti. And mine I promise you, were
it not for shame,
Well could I leaue our sport to sleepe a
Quin. What art thou fallen?
What subtile Hole is this,
mouth is couered with Rude growing Briers, 
Vpon whose leaues are drops of new- shed- blood,
As fresh as mornings dew distil'd on flowers,
A very fatall place it seemes to me:
Speake Brother hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
Martius. Oh Brother,
the dismal'st obiect
That euer eye with sight made heart
Aron. Now will I fetch the King to
finde them heere,
That he thereby may haue a likely
How these were they that made away his
Marti. Why dost not comfort me and helpe me
From this vnhallow'd and blood- stained Hole?
Quintus. I am surprised with an vncouth
A chilling sweat ore- runs my trembling
My heart suspects more then mine eie can
Marti. To proue thou hast a true
Aaron and thou looke downe
into this den,
And see a fearefull sight of blood and
Quintus. Aaron is gone,
And my compassionate heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise:
Oh tell me how it is, for nere till now
Was I a child, to feare I know not what.
Marti. Lord Bassianus lies embrewed
All on a heape like to the slaughtred Lambe,
In this detested, darke, blood- drinking pit.
Quin. If it be darke, how doost thou know 'tis
Mart. Vpon his bloody finger he
doth weare 
A precious Ring, that
lightens all the Hole:
Which like a Taper in some
Doth shine vpon the dead mans earthly
And shewes the ragged intrailes of the pit:
So pale did shine the Moone on Piramus,
When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden blood:
O Brother helpe me with thy fainting hand.
If feare hath made thee faint, as mee it hath,
Out of this fell deuouring receptacle,
As hatefull as Ocitus mistie mouth.
Quint. Reach me thy hand, that
I may helpe thee out,
Or wanting strength to doe thee so much good,
I may be pluckt into the swallowing wombe,
Of this deepe pit, poore Bassianus graue:
I haue no strength to plucke thee to the brinke.
Martius. Nor I no strength to clime without thy
Quin. Thy hand once more, I will not
Till thou art heere aloft, or I below,
Thou can'st not come to me, I come to thee. Both fall
Enter the Emperour, Aaron the Moore.  Satur. Along with me, Ile see what hole is
And what he is that now is leapt into it.
Say, who art thou that lately did'st descend,
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
Marti. The vnhappie sonne of old
Brought hither in a most vnluckie
To finde thy brother Bassianus dead.
Satur. My brother dead? I know thou dost but
He and his Lady both are at the Lodge,
Vpon the North- side of this pleasant Chase,
'Tis not an houre since I left him
Marti. We know not where you left
him all aliue,
But out alas, heere haue we found him
Enter Tamora, Andronicus, and Lucius. Tamo. Where is my Lord the King?
King. Heere Tamora, though grieu'd with
Tam. Where is thy brother
King. Now to the bottome
dost thou search my wound,
Poore Bassianus heere
Tam. Then all too
late I bring this fatall writ, 
complot of this timelesse Tragedie,
And wonder greatly
that mans face can fold,
In pleasing smiles such
She giueth Saturnine a Letter.
Saturninus reads the Letter.And
if we misse to meete him hansomely,
huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we meane,
Doe thou so
much as dig the graue for him,
Thou know'st our
meaning, looke for thy reward
Nettles at the Elder tree: 
Which ouer- shades the mouth of that same pit:
Where we decreed to bury Bassianuss
Doe this and purchase vs thy lasting friends.
King. Oh Tamora, was euer heard the
This is the pit, and this the Elder tree,
Looke sirs, if you can finde the huntsman out,
That should haue murthered Bassianus heere.
Aron. My gracious Lord heere is the bag of
King. Two of thy whelpes, fell Curs
of bloody kind
Haue heere bereft my brother of his
Sirs drag them from the pit
vnto the prison,
There let them bide vntill we haue
Some neuer heard- of tortering paine for
Tamo. What are they in this
Oh wondrous thing!
murder is discouered?
Tit. High Emperour,
vpon my feeble knee,
I beg this boone, with teares, not
That this fell fault of my accursed
Accursed, if the faults be prou'd in them.
King. If it be prou'd?
you see it is apparant,
Who found this Letter,
Tamora was it you?
Andronicus himselfe did take it vp.
Tit. I did my Lord,
Yet let me be their
For by my Fathers reuerent Tombe I vow
They shall be ready at your Highnes will,
To answere their suspition with their liues.
King. Thou shalt not baile them, see thou follow
Some bring the murthered body, some the
Let them not speake a
word, the guilt is plaine,
For by my soule, were there
worse end then death,
That end vpon them should be
Tamo. Andronicus I will
entreat the King,
Feare not thy Sonnes, they shall do
Tit. Come Lucius
Stay not to talke with them.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 2.4]
Enter the Empresse Sonnes, with Lauinia, her hands cut
off andher tongue cut out, and rausht. Deme. So now goe tell and if thy tongue can
Who t'was that cut thy
tongue and rauisht thee.
Chi. Write downe
thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,
And if thy stumpes will
let thee play the Scribe.
Dem. See how with
signes and tokens she can scowle.
Call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
Dem. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to
And so let's leaue her to her silent walkes.
Chi. And t'were my cause, I should goe hang my
Dem. If thou had'st hands to
helpe thee knit the cord. 
Enter Marcus from hunting, to Lauinia.Who is this, my Neece that flies away so fast?
Cosen a word, where is your husband?
I do dreame, would all my wealth would wake me;
If I doe
wake, some Planet strike me downe,
That I may slumber in
Speake gentle Neece, what sterne
Hath lopt, and hew'd, and made thy
body bare 
Of her two branches, those
Whose circkling shadowes, Kings haue
sought to sleep in
And might not gaine so great a
As halfe thy Loue: Why doost not speake to
Alas, a Crimson riuer of warme blood,
Like to a bubling fountaine stir'd with winde,
Doth rise and fall betweene thy Rosed lips,
Comming and going with thy hony breath.
But sure some Tereus hath defloured thee,
And least thou should'st detect them, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for
And notwithstanding all this losse of blood,
As from a Conduit with their issuing Spouts,
Yet doe thy cheekes looke red as Titans face,
Blushing to be encountred with a Cloud,
Shall I speake for thee? shall I say 'tis so?
Oh that I knew thy hart, and knew the beast
That I might raile at him to ease my mind.
Sorrow concealed, like an Ouen stopt,
Doth burne the hart to Cinders where it is.
Faire Philomela she but lost her
And in a tedious Sampler sowed her minde.
But louely Neece, that meane is cut from thee,
A craftier Tereus hast thou met withall,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could haue better sowed then Philomel.
Oh had the monster seene those Lilly hands,
Tremble like Aspen leaues vpon a Lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kisse them,
He would not then haue toucht them for his life.
Or had he heard the heauenly Harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made:
would haue dropt his knife and fell asleepe,
Cerberus at the Thracian Poets feete.
Come, let vs
goe, and make thy father blinde,
For such a sight will
blinde a fathers eye.
One houres storme will drowne the
What, will whole months of teares thy
Doe not draw backe, for we will mourne with
Oh could our mourning ease thy misery.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 3.1]
Enter the Iudges and Senatours with Titus two sonnes
bound,Andronicus lyeth downe, and the Iudges passe by him.For these, Tribunes, in the dust I write
passing on the Stage to the place of
execution, and Titus going
Ti. Heare me graue fathers,
noble Tribunes stay,
For pitty of mine age, whose youth
In dangerous warres, whilst you securely
For all my blood in Romes great quarrell
For all the frosty nights that I haue
And for these bitter teares, which now you
Filling the aged wrinkles in my
Be pittifull to my condemned Sonnes,
Whose soules is not corrupted as 'tis thought:
For two and twenty sonnes I neuer wept,
Because they died in honours lofty bed.
My harts deepe languor, and my soules sad teares:
Let my teares stanch the earths drie appetite.
My sonnes sweet blood, will make it shame and blush:
O earth! I will be friend thee more with
That shall distill from these two ancient ruines,
Then youthfull Aprill shall with all his showres
In summers drought: Ile drop vpon thee still,
In Winter with warme teares Ile melt the snow,
And keepe eternall spring time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drinke my deare sonnes blood.
Enter Lucius, with his weapon drawne.Oh reuerent Tribunes, oh gentle aged men,
Vnbinde my sonnes, reuerse the doome of death,
And let me say (that neuer wept
My teares are now preualing Oratours.
Lu. Oh noble father, you lament in vaine,
The Tribunes heare not, no man is by,
And you recount your sorrowes to a stone.
Ti. Ah Lucius for thy brothers let me
Graue Tribunes, once more I intreat of you.
Lu. My gracious Lord, no Tribune heares you
Ti. Why 'tis no matter man, if they
They would not marke me: oh if they did
They would not pitty me.
Therefore I tell my sorrowes bootles to the stones.
Who though they cannot answere my
Yet in some sort they are better then the
For that they will not intercept my tale;
When I doe weepe, they humbly at my feete
Receiue my teares, and seeme to weepe with me,
And were they but attired in graue weedes,
Rome could afford no Tribune like to these.
A stone is as soft waxe, 
Tribunes more hard then stones:
is silent, and offendeth not,
And Tribunes with their
tongues doome men to death.
But wherefore stand'st thou
with thy weapon drawne?
Lu. To rescue my
two brothers from their death,
For which attempt the
Iudges haue pronounc'st
My euerlasting doome of
Ti. O happy man, they haue
Why foolish Lucius, dost thou not
That Rome is but a wildernes of Tigers?
Tigers must pray, and Rome affords
But me and mine: how happy art thou then,
From these deuourers to be banished?
who comes with our brother Marcus heere?
Enter Marcus and Lauinia.
Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weepe,
Or if not so, thy noble heart to breake:
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
Ti. Will it consume me? Let me see it
Mar. This was thy daughter.
Ti. Why Marcus
so she is.
Luc. Aye me this obiect kils
Ti. Faint- harted boy, arise and looke
Speake Lauinia, what accursed hand
Hath made thee handlesse in thy Fathers sight?
What foole hath added water to the Sea?
Or brought a faggot to bright burning Troy?
My griefe was at the height before thou cam'st,
And now like Nylus it disdaineth bounds:
Giue me a sword, Ile chop off my hands too,
For they haue fought for Rome, and all in
And they haue nur'st this woe,
In feeding life:
In bootelesse prayer
haue they bene held vp,
And they haue seru'd me to
Now all the seruice I require of
Is that the one will helpe to cut the other:
'Tis well Lauinia, that thou hast no hands,
For hands to do Rome seruice, is but vaine.
Luci. Speake gentle sister, who hath martyr'd
Mar. O that
delightfull engine of her thoughts,
That blab'd them with
such pleasing eloquence,
Is torne from forth that pretty
Where like a sweet mellodius bird it
Sweet varied notes inchanting euery eare.
Luci. Oh say thou for her,
Who hath done this deed?
Marc. Oh thus I found her straying in the Parke,
Seeking to hide herselfe as doth the Deare
That hath receiude some vnrecuring wound.
Tit. It was my Deare,
And he that wounded her,
Hath hurt me
more, then had he kild me dead:
For now I stand as one
vpon a Rocke,
Inuiron'd with a wildernesse of Sea.
Who markes the waxing tide,
Grow waue by
Expecting euer when some enuious surge,
Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
This way to death my wretched sonnes are gone:
Heere stands my other sonne, a banisht
And heere my brother weeping at my woes.
But that which giues my soule the greatest spurne,
Is deere Lauinia, deerer then my soule.
Had I but seene thy picture in this plight,
It would haue madded me. What shall I doe?
Now I behold thy liuely body so?
hast no hands to wipe away thy teares,
Nor tongue to tell
me who hath martyr'd thee:
Thy husband he is dead,
and for his death 
Thy brothers are
condemn'd, and dead by this.
Looke Marcus, ah
sonne Lucius looke on her:
When I did name her
brothers, then fresh teares
Stood on her cheekes, as doth
the hony dew,
Vpon a gathred Lillie almost withered.
Mar. Perchance she weepes because they kil'd
Perchance because she
knowes him innocent.
Ti. If they did kill
thy husband then be ioyfull,
Because the law hath
tane reuenge on them. 
No, no, they
would not doe so foule a deede,
Witnes the sorrow that
their sister makes.
Gentle Lauinia let me kisse
Or make some signes how I may do thee
Shall thy good Vncle, and thy brother
And thou and I sit round about some
Looking all downewards to behold our
How they are stain'd in meadowes, yet not
With miery slime left on them by a flood:
And in the Fountaine shall we gaze so long,
Till the fresh taste be taken from that
And made a brine pit with our bitter
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumbe shewes
Passe the remainder of our hatefull dayes?
What shall we doe? Let vs that haue our tongues
Plot some deuise of further miseries
make vs wondred at in time to come.
Sweet Father cease your teares, for at your griefe
See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
Mar. Patience deere Neece,
good Titus drie thine
Ti. Ah Marcus, Marcus, Brother well
Thy napkin cannot drinke a teare of mine,
For thou poore man hast drown'd it with thine owne.
Lu. Ah my Lauinia I will wipe thy
Ti Marke Marcus marke, I
vnderstand her signes,
Had she a tongue to speake, now
would she say
That to her brother which I said to
His Napkin with her true teares all bewet,
Can do no seruice on her sorrowfull
Oh what a simpathy of woe is this!
As farre from helpe as Limbo is from blisse,
Enter Aron the Moore alone.
Moore. Titus Andronicus, my Lord the Emperour,
Sends thee this word, that if thou loue thy sonnes,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thy selfe old
Or any one of you, chop off your
And send it to the King: he for the
Will send thee hither both thy sonnes aliue,
And that shall be the ransome for
Ti. Oh gracious
Emperour, oh gentle Aaron.
Did euer Rauen sing so
like a Larke,
That giues sweet tydings of the Sunnes
With all my heart, Ile send the Emperour my
Good Aron wilt thou help to chop it
Lu. Stay Father, for that noble hand
That hath throwne downe so many enemies,
Shall not be sent: my hand will serue the turne,
My youth can better spare my blood then you,
And therfore mine shall saue my brothers
Mar. Which of your hands hath not
And rear'd aloft the bloody
Writing destruction on the enemies
Oh none of both but are of high desert:
My hand hath bin but idle, let it serue
To ransome my two nephewes from their death,
Then haue I kept it to a worthy end.
Moore. Nay come agree, whose hand shall goe
For feare they die before their pardon come.
Mar. My hand shall
Lu. By heauen it shall not goe.
Ti. Sirs striue no more, such withered hearbs as
Are meete for plucking vp, and therefore
Lu. Sweet Father, if I shall be
thought thy sonne,
Let me redeeme my brothers both from
Mar. And for our fathers sake, and
Now let me shew a brothers loue to
Ti. Agree betweene you, I will spare
Lu. Then Ile goe fetch an
Mar. But I will
vse the Axe.
Ti. Come hither Aaron,
Ile deceiue them both,
Lend me thy hand, and I will giue
Moore. If that be cal'd deceit,
I will be honest,
And neuer whil'st I liue deceiue men
But Ile deceiue you in another sort,
And that you'l say ere halfe an houre passe.
He cuts off Titus hand.
Enter Lucius and Marcus againe. Ti. Now stay your strife, what shall be, is
Good Aron giue his
Maiestie me hand,
Tell him, it was a hand that warded
From thousand dangers: bid him bury it:
More hath it merited: That let it haue.
As for my sonnes, say I account
As iewels purchast at an easie price,
And yet deere too, because I bought mine owne.
Aron. I goe Andronicus, and for thy
Looke by and by to haue thy sonnes with
Their heads I meane: Oh how this villany
Doth fat me with the very thoughts
Let fooles doe good, and faire men call for
Aron will haue his soule blacke like his
Ti. O heere I lift this one hand vp to
And bow this feeble ruine to the earth,
If any power pitties wretched teares,
that I call: what wilt thou kneele with me?
deare heart, for heauen shall heare our prayers,
our sighs weele breath the welkin dimme,
the Sun with fogge as somtime cloudes, 
When they do hug him in their melting bosomes.
Mar. Oh brother speake with possibilities,
And do not breake into these deepe extreames.
Ti. Is not my sorrow deepe, hauing no
Then be my passions bottomlesse with them.
Mar. But yet let reason gouerne thy lament.
Titus. If there were reason for these
Then into limits could I binde my woes:
When heauen doth weepe, doth not the earth oreflow?
If the windes rage, doth not the Sea wax mad,
Threatning the welkin with his big- swolne
And wilt thou haue a reason for this coile?
I am the Sea. Harke how her sighes doe flow:
Shee is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my Sea be moued with her sighes,
Then must my earth with her continuall teares,
Become a deluge: ouerflow'd and drown'd:
For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them:
Then giue me leaue, for loosers will haue leaue,
To ease their stomackes with their bitter
Enter a messenger with two heads and a hand. Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou
For that good hand thou sentst the
Heere are the heads of thy two noble
And heeres thy hand in scorne to thee sent
Thy griefes, their sports: Thy resolution
That woe is me to thinke vpon thy woes,
More then remembrance of my fathers death.
Marc. Now let hot AEtna coole in Cicilie, 
And be my heart an euer- burning hell:
These miseries are more then may be borne.
To weepe with them that weepe, doth ease some deale,
But sorrow flouted at, is double death.
Luci. Ah that this sight should make so deep a
And yet detested life not shrinke thereat:
That euer death should let life beare his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breath.
Mar. Alas poore hart that kisse is
As frozen water to a starued snake.
Titus. When will this
fearefull slumber haue an end?
farwell flatterie, die Andronicus,
Thou dost not
slumber, see thy two sons heads,
Thy warlike hands, thy
mangled daughter here:
Thy other banisht sonnes with this
Strucke pale and bloodlesse, and thy brother
Euen like a stony Image, cold and numme.
Ah now no more will I controule my griefes,
Rent off thy siluer haire, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismall sight
The closing vp of our most wretched
Now is a time to storme, why art thou still?
Titus. Ha, ha, ha,
Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this houre.
Ti. Why I haue not another teare to shed:
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
would vsurpe vpon my watry eyes,
And make them blinde
with tributarie teares.
Then which way shall I finde
For these two heads doe seeme to
speake to me, 
And threat me, I shall
neuer come to blisse,
Till all these mischiefes be
Euen in their throats that haue
Come let me see what taske I haue to
You heauie people, circle me about,
That I may turne me to each one of you,
And sweare vnto my soule to right your wrongs.
The vow is made, come Brother take a head,
And in this hand the other will I beare.
And Lauinia thou shalt be employd in these things:
Beare thou my hand sweet wench
betweene thy teeth:
As for thee boy, goe get thee from my
Thou art an Exile, and thou must not stay,
Hie to the Gothes, and raise an army there,
And if you loue me, as I thinke you doe,
Let's kisse and part, for we haue much to doe.
Manet Lucius. Luci.
Farewell Andronicus my noble Father:
man that euer liu'd in Rome:
Farewell proud Rome,
til Lucius come againe, 
loues his pledges dearer then his life:
Lauinia my noble sister,
O would thou wert as thou
to fore hast beene,
But now, nor Lucius nor
But in obliuion and hateful
If Lucius liue, he will requit your
And make proud Saturnine and his
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his
Now will I to the Gothes and raise a
To be reueng'd on Rome and Saturnine.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 3.2]
Enter Andronicus, Marcus, Lauinia, and the Boy. An. So, so, now sit, and looke you eate no
Then will preserue iust so much strength in vs
As will reuenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus vnknit that sorrow- wreathen knot:
Thy Neece and I (poore Creatures) want our hands
And cannot passionate our tenfold griefe,
With foulded Armes. This poore right hand of mine,
Is left to tirranize vppon my breast.
Who when my hart all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thumpe it downe.
Thou Map of
woe, that thus dost talk in signes,
When thy poore hart
beates without ragious beating,
Thou canst not strike it
thus to make it still?
Wound it with sighing girle, kil
it with grones:
Or get some little knife betweene thy
And iust against thy hart make thou a
That all the teares that thy poore eyes let
May run into that sinke, and
Drowne the lamenting foole, in Sea salt
Mar. Fy brother fy, teach her not
thus to lay
Such violent hands vppon her tender
An. How now! Has sorrow made thee
Why Marcus, no man should be mad
What violent hands can she lay on her life:
Ah, wherefore dost thou vrge the name of hands,
To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice ore
How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable?
O handle not the theame, to talke of
Least we remember still that we haue none,
Fie, fie, how Frantiquely I square my talke
As if we should forget we had no hands:
If Marcus did not name the word of hands.
Come, lets fall too, and gentle girle eate this,
Heere is no drinke? Harke Marcus what she saies,
I can interpret all her martir'd signes,
She saies, she drinkes no other drinke but teares
Breu'd with her sorrow: mesh'd vppon her cheekes,
Speechlesse complayner, I will learne thy thought:
In thy dumb action, will I be as perfect
As begging Hermits in their holy prayers.
Thou shalt not sighe nor hold thy stumps to heauen,
Nor winke, nor nod, nor kneele, nor make a signe,
But I (of these) will wrest an Alphabet,
And by still practice, learne to know thy meaning.
Boy. Good grandsire leaue these bitter deepe
Make my Aunt merry, with some pleasing
Mar. Alas, the tender boy in
passion mou'd, 
Doth weepe to see his
An. Peace tender
Sapling, thou art made of teares,
And teares will quickly
melt thy life away.
Marcus strikes the dish with a
What doest thou strike at Marcus with
Mar. At that that I haue kil'd my
Lord, a Fly
An. Out on the murderour: thou
kil'st my hart,
Mine eyes cloi'd with view of
A deed of death done on the
Becoms not Titus brother: get thee
I see thou art not for my
Mar. Alas (my Lord) I haue but
kild a flie.
An. But? How: if that Flie had
a father and mother?
How would he hang his slender gilded
And buz lamenting doings in the ayer,
Poore harmelesse Fly,
That with his
pretty buzing melody,
Came heere to make vs merry,
And thou hast kil'd him.
Mar. Pardon me sir, 
It was a
blacke illfauour'd Fly,
Like to the Empresse Moore,
therefore I kild him.
An. O, o, o,
Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a Charitable deed:
Giue me thy knife, I will insult on him,
Flattering my selfe, as if it were the Moore,
Come hither purposely to poyson me.
There's for thy selfe, and thats for Tamora: Ah
Yet I thinke we are not brought so low,
But that betweene vs, we can kill a
That comes in likenesse of a Cole- blacke
Mar. Alas poore man, griefe ha's so
wrought on him,
He takes false shadowes, for true
An. Come, take away:
Lauinia, goe with me,
Ile to thy closset, and goe
read with thee
Sad stories, chanced in the times of
Come boy, and goe with me, thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read, when mine begin to dazell.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 4.1]
Enter young Lucius and Lauinia running after him, and
the Boy flies from her with his bookes vnder his arme.
Enter Titus and Marcus.
Boy. Helpe Gransier helpe, my Aunt Lauinia,
Followes me euery where I know not why.
Good Vncle Marcus see how swift she comes,
Alas sweet Aunt, I know not what you meane.
Mar. Stand by me Lucius, doe not feare thy
Titus. She loues thee boy too well to
doe thee harme
Boy. I when my father
was in Rome she did. 
Mar. What meanes my Neece Lauinia by these
Ti. Feare not Lucius,
somewhat doth she meane:
See Lucius see, how much
she makes of thee:
Some whether would she haue thee goe
Ah boy, Cornelia neuer with more
Read to her sonnes, then she hath read to
Sweet Poetry, and Tullies Oratour:
Canst thou not gesse wherefore she plies thee thus?
Boy. My Lord I know not I, nor can I
Vnlesse some fit or frenzie do possesse her:
For I haue heard my Gransier say
Extremitie of griefes would make men mad.
And I haue read that Hecuba of Troy,
Ran mad through sorrow, that made me to feare,
Although my Lord, I know my noble Aunt,
Loues me as deare as ere my mother did,
And would not but in fury fright my youth,
Which made me downe to throw my bookes, and flie
Causles perhaps, but pardon me sweet Aunt,
And Madam, if my Vncle Marcus goe,
I will most willingly attend your
Mar. Lucius I will.
Ti. How now Lauinia, Marcus what
Some booke there is that she desires to
Which is it girle of these? Open them boy,
But thou art deeper read and better skild,
Come and take choyse of all my Library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heauens
Reueale the damn'd contriuer of this deed.
What booke? 
lifts she vp her armes in sequence thus?
Mar. I thinke she meanes that ther was more then one
Confederate in the fact, I more there was:
Or else to heauen she heaues them to reuenge.
Ti. Lucius what booke is that she tosseth
Boy. Grandsier 'tis Ouids
My mother gaue it me.
Mar. For loue of her that's gone,
Perhaps she culd it from among the rest.
Ti. Soft, so busily she turnes the leaues,
Helpe her, what would she finde?
Lauinia shall I read?
This is the tragicke tale of
And treates of Tereus treason and
And rape I feare was roote of thine
Mar. See brother see, note how she
quotes the leaues
Ti. Lauinia, wert
thou thus surpriz'd sweet girle,
Rauisht and wrong'd as
Forc'd in the ruthlesse, vast, and
See, see, I such a place there is where we
(O had we neuer, neuer hunted there)
Patern'd by that the Poet heere
By nature made for murthers and for
Mar. O why should nature build so
foule a den,
Vnlesse the Gods delight in tragedies?
Ti. Giue signes sweet girle, for heere are none but friends
What Romaine Lord it was durst do the deed?
Or slunke not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
That left the Campe to sinne in Lucrece bed.
Mar. Sit downe sweet Neece, brother sit downe by
Appollo, Pallas, Ioue, or
Inspire me that I
may this treason finde.
My Lord looke heere, looke heere
He writes his Name with his staffe, and guides it
with feete and mouth.This sandie
plot is plaine, guide if thou canst
This after me, I haue writ my name,
Without the helpe of any hand at all.
Curst be that hart that forc'st vs to that shift:
Write thou good Neece, and heere display at last,
What God will haue discouered for reuenge,
Heauen guide thy pen to print thy sorrowes
That we may know the Traytors and the
She takes the staffe in her mouth, and guides it with
stumps and writes. Ti.
Oh doe ye read my Lord what she hath writs?
Mar. What, what, the
lustfull sonnes of Tamora,
Performers of this
hainous bloody deed?
Ti. Magni Dominator
Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus
calme thee gentle Lord: Although I know
There is enough
written vpon this earth,
To stirre a mutinie in the
And arme the mindes of infants to
My Lord kneele downe with me: Lauinia
And kneele sweet boy, the Romaine Hectors
And sweare with me, as with the wofull Feere
And father of that chast dishonoured Dame,
Lord Iunius Brutus sweare for Lucrece
That we will prosecute (by good aduise)
Mortall reuenge vpon these
And see their blood, or die with this
Ti. Tis sure enough, and you knew
But if you hunt these Beare- whelpes, then
The Dam will wake, and if she winde you
Shee's with the Lyon deepely still in league.
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her backe,
And when he sleepes will she do what she list.
You are a young huntsman Marcus, let it
And come, I will goe get a leafe of brasse,
And with a Gad of steele will write
And lay it by: the angry Northerne
Will blow these sands like Sibels leaues
And wheres your lesson then. Boy what say
Boy. I say my Lord, that if I were a
Their mothers bed- chamber should not be safe,
For these bad bond- men to the yoake of Rome.
Mar. I that's my boy, thy father hath full
For his vngratefull country done the
Boy. And Vncle so will I, and
if I liue. 
goe with me into mine Armorie,
Lucius Ile fit
thee, and withall, my boy
Shall carry from me to the
Presents that I intend to send them
Come, come, thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou
Boy. I with my dagger in their bosomes
Ti. No boy not so, Ile teach
thee another course,
Lauinia come, Marcus
looke to my house,
Lucius and Ile goe braue it at
I marry will we sir, and weele be waited
Mar. O heauens! Can you heare
a good man grone
And not relent, or not compassion
Marcus attend him in his extasie,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Then foe- mens markes vpon his batter'd shield,
But yet so iust, that he will not reuenge,
Reuenge the heauens for old Andronicus.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 4.2]
Enter Aron, Chiron and Demetrius at one dore: and at
anotherdore young Lucius and another, with a bundle of
weapons, and verses writ vpon them.  Chi.
Demetrius heeres the sonne of Lucius,
hath some message to deliuer vs.
some mad message from his mad Grandfather.
Boy. My Lords, with all the humblenesse I may,
greete your honours from Andronicus,
And pray the
Romane Gods confound you both.
Gramercie louely Lucius, what's the newes?
villanie's markt with rape. May it please you,
Grandsire well aduis'd hath sent by me,
goodliest weapons of his Armorie, 
gratifie your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome, for so
he bad me say:
And so I do and with his gifts
Your Lordships, when euer you haue need,
You may be armed and appointed well,
so I leaue you both: like bloody villaines.
heere? a scrole, & written round about?
Integer vitae scelerisque purus, non egit maury
iaculis nec ar-
Chi. O 'tis a verse in
Horace, I know it well.
I read it in the Grammer
Moore. I iust, a verse in
Horace: right, you haue it,
Now what a thing it is
to be an Asse?
Heer's no sound iest, the old man hath
found their guilt,
And sends the weapons wrapt about with
That wound (beyond their feeling) to the
But were our witty Empresse well a foot,
She would applaud Andronicus conceit:
But let her rest, in her vnrest a while.
And now young Lords, wa¹st not a happy
Led vs to Rome strangers, and more then so;
Captiues, to be aduanced to this height?
It did me good before the Pallace gate,
To braue the Tribune in his brothers hearing.
Deme. But me more good, to see so great a
Basely insinuate, and send vs gifts.
Moore. Had he not reason Lord
Did you not vse his daughter very
Deme. I would we had a
thousand Romane Dames 
At such a bay,
by turne to serue our lust.
charitable wish, and full of loue.
Heere lack's but your mother for to say, Amen.
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more.
Deme. Come, let vs go, and pray to all the
For our beloued mother in her paines.
Moore. Pray to the deuils, the gods haue giuen vs
Flourish. Dem. Why do
the Emperors trumpets flourish thus?
Chi. Belike for ioy the Emperour hath a sonne. 
Deme. Soft, who comes heere?
Enter Nurse with a blacke a Moore childe. Nur. Good morrow Lords:
tell me, did you see Aaron the Moore?
Aron. Well, more or lesse, or nere a whit at all,
Heere Aaron is, and what with Aaron now?
Nurse. Oh gentle Aaron, we are all
Now helpe, or woe betide thee euermore.
Aron. Why, what a catterwalling dost thou
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine
Nurse. O that
which I would hide from heauens eye,
Our Empresse shame,
and stately Romes disgrace,
She is deliuered Lords, she
Aron. To whom?
Nurse. I meane she is brought a bed?
Aron. Wel God giue her good rest,
What hath he sent her?
Nurse. A deuill.
Aron. Why then she
is the Deuils Dam: a ioyfull issue.
Nurse. A ioylesse, dismall, blacke &, sorrowfull issue,
Heere is the babe as loathsome as a
Among'st the fairest breeders of our clime,
The Empresse sends it thee, thy stampe, thy seale,
And bids thee christen it with thy daggers point.
Aron. Out you whore, is black so base a
Sweet blowse, you are a beautious blossome
Deme. Villaine what hast thou
Aron. That which thou canst not
Chi. Thou hast vndone our
Deme. And therein hellish
dog, thou hast vndone, 
Woe to her
chance, and damn'd her loathed choyce,
Accur'st the off-
spring of so foule a fiend.
Chi. It shall
Aron. It shall not die.
Nurse. Aaron it must, the mother wils it
Aron. What, must it Nurse? Then
let no man but I
Doe execution on my flesh and
Deme. Ile broach the Tadpole on my
Nurse giue it me, my sword
shall soone dispatch it.
this sword shall plough thy bowels vp. 
Stay murtherous villaines, will you kill your brother?
Now by the burning Tapers of the skie,
That shone so brightly when this Boy was got,
He dies vpon my Semitars sharpe point,
That touches this my first borne sonne and heire.
I tell you young-lings, not Enceladus
With all his threatning band of Typhons broode,
Nor great Alcides, nor the God of warre,
Shall ceaze this prey out of his fathers hands:
What, what, ye sanguine shallow harted Boyes,
Ye white- limb'd walls, ye Ale- house
Cole- blacke is better then another
In that it scornes to beare another hue:
For all the water in the Ocean,
neuer turne the Swans blacke legs to white,
laue them hourely in the flood:
Tell the Empresse from
me, I am of age
To keepe mine owne, excuse it how she
Deme. Wilt thou betray thy noble
Aron. My mistris is my
mistris: this my selfe, 
and the picture of my youth:
This, before all the world
do I preferre,
This mauger all the world will I keepe
Or some of you shall smoake for it in Rome.
Deme. By this our mother is for euer
Chi. Rome will despise her for this
Nur. The Emperour in his rage
will doome her death.
Chi. I blush to
thinke vpon this ignominie.
ther's the priuiledge your beauty beares:
trecherous hue, that will betray with blushing 
The close enacts and counsels of the hart:
Heer's a young Lad fram'd of another leere,
Looke how the blacke slaue smiles vpon the father;
As who should say, old Lad I am thine owne.
He is your brother Lords, sensibly fed
Of that selfe blood that first gaue life to you,
And from that wombe where you imprisoned were
He is infranchised and come to light:
Nay he is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seale be stamped in his face.
Nurse. Aaron what
shall I say vnto the Empresse?
thee Aaron, what is to be done,
will all subscribe to thy aduise:
Saue thou the child, so
we may all be safe.
Aron. Then sit we downe
and let vs all consult.
My sonne and I will haue the
winde of you:
Keepe there, now talke at pleasure of your
Deme. How many women saw this
childe of his?
Aron. Why so braue Lords,
when we ioyne in league
I am a Lambe: but if you
braue the Moore, 
Bore, the mountaine Lyonesse,
The Ocean swells not so as
But say againe, how many saw the
Nurse. Cornelia, the
midwife, and my selfe,
And none else but the deliuered
Aron. The Empresse, the Midwife,
and your selfe,
Two may keepe counsell, when the third's
Goe to the Empresse, tell her this I said,
He kils her
Weeke, weeke, so cries a Pigge prepared to th'
Deme. What mean'st thou
Wherefore did'st thou
Aron. O Lord sir, 'tis a deed of
Shall she liue to betray this guilt of
A long tongu'd babling Gossip? No Lords no:
And now be it knowne to you my full intent.
Not farre, one Muliteus my Country- man
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed,
His childe is like to her, faire as you are:
Goe packe with them, and giue the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumstance of all,
And how by this their Childe shall be
And be receiued for the Emperours heyre,
And substituted in the place of mine,
calme this tempest whirling in the Court,
And let the
Emperour dandle him for his owne.
Harke ye Lords, ye see
I haue giuen her physicke,
And you must needs bestow her
The fields are neere, and you are gallant
This done, see that you take no longer
But send the Midwife presently to me.
The Midwife and the Nurse well made
Then let the Ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron I see thou wilt not trust the
ayre with se-
Deme. For this care of
Her selfe, and hers are
highly bound to thee.
Aron. Now to the Gothes, as
swift as Swallow flies,
There to dispose this treasure in
And secretly to greete the Empresse
Come on you thick- lipt- slaue, Ile beare you
For it is you that puts vs to our shifts:
Ile make you feed on berries, and on
And feed on curds and whay, and sucke the
And cabbin in a Caue, and bring you vp
To be a warriour, and command a Campe.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 4.3]
Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other
gentlemenwith bowes, and Titus beares the arrowes with
Letters on the end of them.
Tit. Come Marcus, come, kinsmen this is the way.
Sir Boy let me see your Archerie,
Looke yee draw home enough, and 'tis there straight:
Terras Astrea reliquit, be you
She's gone, she's fled, sirs
take you to your tooles,
You Cosens shall goe sound the
And cast your nets, haply you may find her in the
Yet ther's as little iustice as at Land:
No Publius and Sempronius, you must doe it,
'Tis you must dig with Mattocke, and with Spade,
And pierce the inmost Center of the earth:
Then when you come to Plutoes Region,
I pray you deliuer him this petition,
Tell him it is for iustice, and for
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrowes in vngratefull Rome.
Ah Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable,
What 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,
And kinsmen then we may goe pipe for iustice.
Marc. O Publius is not
this a heauie case
To see thy Noble Vnckle thus
Publ. Therefore my Lords it
highly vs concernes,
By day and night t' attend him
And feede his humour kindely as we may,
Till time beget some carefull remedie.
Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrowes are past
Ioyne with the Gothes, and with reuengefull
Take wreake on Rome for this
And vengeance on the Traytor
Publius how now? how now my Maisters?
you met with her?
Publ. No my good Lord,
but Pluto sends you word,
If you will haue reuenge
from hell you shall,
Marrie for iustice she is so
He thinkes with Ioue in heauen, or some
So that perforce you must needs stay a
Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with
Ile diue into the burning Lake
And pull her out of Acaron by the
Marcus we are but
shrubs, no Cedars we,
No big- bon'd- men, fram'd of the
But mettall Marcus steele to the
Yet wrung with wrongs more then our backe can
And sith there's no iustice in earth nor
We will sollicite heauen, and moue the Gods
To send downe Iustice for to wreake our wrongs:
Come to this geare, you are a good Archer Marcus.
He giues them the Arrowes.Ad Iouem, that's for you: here ad Appollonem,
Ad Martem, that's for my
Heere Boy to Pallas, heere to
To Saturnine, to Caius, not
You were as good to shoote against
Too it Boy, Marcus loose when I
Of my word, I haue written to effect,
Ther's not a God left vnsollicited.
Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the
We will afflict the Emperour in his
Tit. 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?
See, see, thou hast shot off one of
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:
She 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
Enter the Clowne with a basket and two Pigeons in it. Titus. Newes, newes, from heauen,
Marcus the poast is come.
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
next weeke. 
what sayes Iupiter I aske thee?
Clowne. Alas sir I know not Iupiter:
neuer dranke with him in all my life.
Why villaine art not thou the Carrier?
Clowne. 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
Tribunall Plebs, to take vp a matter of brawle, betwixt
my Vncle, and one of the Emperialls
Mar. Why sir, that is as fit as can be
to serue for your
Oration, and let him deliuer the
Pigions to the Emperour
Tit. Tell mee, can you deliuer an Oration to the
perour with a Grace?
Clowne. Nay truely sir, I could neuer say grace in all
Tit. Sirrah come
hither, make no more adoe,
But giue your Pigeons to
the Emperour, 
By me thou shalt haue
Iustice at his hands.
Hold, hold, meane while her's money
for thy charges.
Giue me pen and inke.
Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliuer a Supplication?
Clowne. I sir
Titus. Then here is a Supplication 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
it brauely. 
Clowne. I warrant you sir, let me alone.
Tit. Sirrha hast thou a knife? Come let me see
Heere Marcus, fold it in the Oration,
For thou hast made it like an humble Suppliant:
And 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.
Tit. Come Marcus let vs goe,
Publius follow me.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 4.4]
Enter 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
An 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
Buz in the peoples eares) there nought hath past,
But euen with law against the willfull
Of old Andronicus. And what and if
His sorrowes haue so ouerwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreakes,
His fits, his frenzie, and his bitternesse?
And now he writes to heauen for his redresse.
See, heeres to Ioue, and this to Mercury,
This to Apollo, this to the God of warre:
Sweet scrowles to flie about the streets of Rome:
What's this but Libelling against the Senate,
And blazoning our Iniustice euery
A goodly humour, is it not my Lords?
As who would say, in Rome no Iustice were.
But if I liue, his fained extasies
be no shelter to these outrages:
But he and his shall
know, that Iustice liues
In Saturninus health;
whom if he sleepe,
Hee'l so awake, as he in fury
Cut off the proud'st Conspirator that
Tamo. My gracious Lord, my
louely Saturnine, 
Lord of my
life, Commander of my thoughts,
Calme thee, and beare the
faults of Titus age,
Th' effects of sorrow for his
Whose losse hath pier'st him deepe, and
scar'd his heart;
And rather comfort his distressed
Then prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts. Why thus it shall become
High witted Tamora to glose with all:
Titus, I haue touch'd thee to the quicke,
Thy life blood out: If Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the Anchor's in the
Enter Clowne.How now good fellow,
would'st thou speake with vs?
forsooth, and your Mistership be Emperiall.
Tam. Empresse I am, but yonder sits the Emperour.
Clo. 'Tis he; God & Saint Stephen giue you
I haue brought you a Letter, & a couple of
He reads the Letter.
Satu. Goe take him away, and hang him
Clowne. How much money
must I haue? 
sirrah you must be hang'd.
ber Lady, then I haue brought vp a neck
to a faire end.
Satu. Despightfull and intollerable wrongs,
Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
know from whence this same deuise proceedes:
May this be
borne? As if his traytrous Sonnes,
That dy'd by law for
murther of our Brother,
Haue by my meanes beene butcher'd
Goe dragge the villaine hither by the
Nor Age, nor Honour, shall
For this proud mocke, Ile be thy
Sly franticke wretch, that holp'st to make
In hope thy selfe should gouerne Rome and
Enter Nuntius Emillius.
Satur. What newes with thee Emillius?
Emil. Arme my Lords, Rome neuer had more
The Gothes haue gather'd head, and with a
Of high resolued men, bent to the
They hither march amaine, vnder conduct
Of Lucius, Sonne to old
Who threats in course of this reuenge
As much as euer Coriolanus did.
King. Is warlike Lucius Generall of the
These tydings nip me, and I hang the head
As flowers with frost, or grasse beat downe with stormes:
I, now begins our sorrowes to approach,
'Tis he the common people loue so much,
My selfe hath often heard them say,
(When I haue walked like a priuate man)
That Lucius banishment was
And they haue wisht that Lucius were
Tam. Why should you feare?
Is not our City strong?
but the Cittizens fauour Lucius,
And will reuolt
from me, to succour him.
be thy thoughts Imperious like thy name.
Is the Sunne
dim'd, that Gnats do flie in it?
The Eagle suffers little
Birds to sing,
And is not carefull what they meane
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings,
He can at pleasure stint their
Euen so mayest thou, the giddy men of
Then cheare thy spirit, for know thou
I will enchaunt the old
With words more sweet, and yet more
Then baites to fish, or hony stalkes to
When as the one is wounded with the baite,
The other rotted with delicious foode.
King. But he will not entreat his Sonne for
Tam. If Tamora entreat
him, then he will, 
For I can smooth
and fill his aged eare,
With golden promises, that were
Almost Impregnable, his old eares deafe,
Yet should both eare and heart, obey my tongue.
Goe thou before to our Embassadour,
that the Emperour requests a parly
Lucius, and appoint the meeting.
King. Emillius do this message Honourably,
And if he stand in Hostage for his safety,
Bid him demaund what pledge will please him best.
Emill. Your bidding shall I
Tam. Now will I to that old
And temper him with all the Art I
To plucke proud Lucius from the warlike
And now sweet Emperour be blithe againe,
And bury all thy feare in my deuises.
Satu. Then goe successantly and plead for him.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 5.1]
Flourish. Enter Lucius with an Army of Gothes,
with Drum and Souldiers.  Luci. Approued warriours, and my faithfull
I haue receiued Letters from great Rome,
Which signifies what hate they beare their Emperour,
And how desirous of our sight they are.
Therefore great Lords, be as your Titles witnesse,
Imperious and impatient of your wrongs,
And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe,
Let him make treble satisfaction.
Goth. Braue slip, sprung from the Great Andronicus,
Whose name was once our terrour, now our comfort,
Whose high exploits, and honourable
Ingratefull Rome requites with foule
Behold in vs, weele follow where thou
Like stinging Bees in hottest Sommers day,
Led by their Maister to the flowred fields,
And be aueng'd on cursed Tamora:
And as he saith, so say we all with him.
Luci. I humbly thanke him, and I thanke you
But who comes heere, led by a lusty
Enter a Goth leading of Aaron with his child
in his armes. Goth.
Renowned Lucius, from our troups I straid,
vpon a ruinous Monasterie,
And as I earnestly did fixe mine eye
Vpon the wasted building, suddainely
heard a childe cry vnderneath a wall:
I made vnto the
noyse, when soone I heard,
The crying babe control'd with
Peace Tawny slaue, halfe me, and halfe
Did not thy Hue bewray whose brat thou
Had nature lent thee, but thy
Villaine thou might'st haue bene an
But where the Bull and Cow are both milk-
They neuer do beget a cole- blacke- Calfe:
Peace, villaine peace, euen thus he rates the babe,
For I must beare thee to a trusty Goth,
Who when he knowes thou art the Empresse babe,
Will hold thee dearely for thy Mothers sake.
With this, my weapon drawne I rusht vpon him,
Surpriz'd him suddainely, and brought him hither
To vse, as you thinke needefull of the
Luci. Oh worthy Goth, this is the
That rob'd Andronicus of his
This is the Pearle that pleas'd your Empresse
And heere's the Base Fruit of his burning
Say wall- ey'd slaue, whether would'st thou
This growing Image of thy fiend- like face?
Why dost not speake? what deafe? Not a word?
A halter Souldiers, hang him on this Tree,
And by his side his Fruite of Bastardie.
Aron. Touch not the Boy, he
is of Royall blood.
Luci. Too like the Syre
for euer being good.
First hang the Child that he may see
A sight to vexe the Fathers soule
Aron. Get me a Ladder
Lucius, saue the Childe,
And beare it from me to
If thou do this, Ile shew thee wondrous
That highly may aduantage thee to heare;
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
Ile speake no more: but vengeance rot you all.
Luci. Say on, and if it
please me which thou speak'st,
Thy child shall liue, and
I will see it Nourisht.
Aron. And if it
please thee? why assure thee Lucius,
thy soule to heare what I shall speake:
For I must talke
of Murthers, Rapes, and Massacres,
Acts of Blacke- night,
Complots of Mischiefe, Treason,
Ruthfull to heare, yet pittiously
And this shall all be buried by my
Vnlesse thou sweare to me my Childe shall
Luci. Tell on
I say thy Childe shall liue.
Aron. Sweare that he shall, and then I will
Luci. Who should I sweare by,
Thou beleeuest no God,
how can'st thou beleeue an oath?
if I do not, as indeed I do not,
Yet for I know thou art
And hast a thing within thee, called
With twenty Popish trickes and
Which I haue seene thee
carefull to obserue:
Therefore I vrge thy oath, for that
An Ideot holds his Bauble for a God,
And keepes the oath which by that God he sweares,
To that Ile vrge him: therefore thou shalt vow
By that same God, what God so ere it be
That thou adorest, and hast in reuerence,
To saue my Boy, to nourish and bring him vp,
Ore else I will discouer nought to thee.
Luci. Euen by my God I sweare to thee I will. 
Aron. First know thou,
begot him on the Empresse.
Luci. Oh most
Insatiate luxurious woman!
Lucius, this was but a deed of Charitie,
which thou shalt heare of me anon,
'Twas her two Sonnes
that murdered Bassianus,
They cut thy Sisters
tongue, and rauisht her,
And cut her hands off, and
trim'd her as thou saw'st.
Call'st thou that Trimming?
Aron. Why she was
washt, and cut, and trim'd,
And 'twas trim sport for them
that had the doing of it.
barbarous beastly villaines like thy selfe!
Aron. Indeede, I was their Tutor to instruct them
That Codding spirit had they from their Mother,
As sure a Card as euer wonne the Set:
That bloody minde I thinke they learn'd of me,
As true a Dog as euer fought at head.
Well, let my Deeds be witnesse of my worth:
I trayn'd thy Bretheren to that guilefull Hole,
Where the dead Corps of Bassianus
I wrote the Letter, that thy Father found,
And hid the Gold within the Letter mention'd.
Confederate with the Queene, and her two Sonnes,
And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of Mischeife in it.
I play'd the Cheater for thy Fathers hand,
And when I had it, drew my selfe apart,
And almost broke my heart with extreame laughter.
I pried me through the Creuice of a Wall,
When for his hand, he had his two Sonnes
Beheld his teares, and laught so hartily,
That both mine eyes were rainie like to his:
And when I told the Empresse of this sport,
She sounded almost at my pleasing tale,
And for my tydings, gaue me twenty kisses.
Goth. What canst thou say all this, and neuer
Aron. I, like a blacke Dogge, as the
Luci. Art thou not sorry for
these hainous deedes?
Aron. I, that I
had not done a thousand more: 
now I curse the day, and yet I thinke
Few come within few
compasse of my curse,
Wherein I did not some Notorious
As kill a man, or else deuise his death,
Rauish a Maid, or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some Innocent, and forsweare my selfe,
Set deadly Enmity betweene two Friends,
Make poore mens Cattell breake their neckes,
Set fire on Barnes and Haystackes in the night,
And bid the Owners quench them with the teares:
Oft haue I dig'd vp dead men from their
And set them vpright at their deere Friends
Euen when their sorrowes almost was forgot,
And on their skinnes, as on the Barke of Trees,
Haue with my knife carued in Romaine Letters,
Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.
Tut, I haue done a thousand dreadfull things
As willingly, as one would kill a Fly,
And nothing greeues me hartily indeede,
But that I cannot doe ten thousand more.
Luci. Bring downe the diuell,
for he must not die
So sweet a death as hanging
Aron. If there be diuels, would
I were a deuill,
To liue and burne in euerlasting
So I might haue your company in hell,
But to torment you with my bitter tongue.
Luci. Sirs stop his mouth, & let him speake
Enter Emillius. Goth.
My Lord, there is a Messenger from Rome
be admitted to your presence. 
Luc. Let him come neere.
what the newes from Rome?
Lucius, and you Princes of the Gothes,
Emperour greetes you all by me,
And for he vnderstands
you are in Armes,
He craues a parly at your Fathers
Willing you to demand your Hostages,
And they shall be immediately deliuered.
Goth. What saies our Generall?
Luc. Emillius, let the Emperour giue his
Vnto my Father, and my Vncle
And we will come: march away.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 5.2]
Enter Tamora, and her two Sonnes disguised. Tam. Thus in this strange and sad
I will encounter with
And say, I am Reuenge sent from
To ioyne with him and right his hainous
Knocke at his study where they say he
To ruminate strange plots of dire
Tell him Reuenge is come to ioyne with
And worke confusion on his
They knocke and Titus opens his study dore. Tit. Who doth mollest my Contemplation?
Is it your tricke to make me ope the dore,
That so my sad decrees may flie away,
And all my studie be to no effect?
are deceiu'd, for what I meane to do,
See heere in bloody
lines I haue set downe:
And what is written shall be
Tam. Titus, I am
come to talke with thee, 
Tit. No not a word: how can I grace my talke,
Wanting a hand to giue it action,
hast the ods of me, therefore no more.
If thou did'st know me,
Thou would'st talke with
Tit. I am not mad, I know thee well
Witnesse this wretched stump,
Witnesse these crimson lines,
these Trenches made by griefe and care,
the tyring day, and heauie night, 
Witnesse all sorrow, that I know thee well
For our proud Empresse, Mighty Tamora:
Is not thy comming for my other hand?
Tamo. Know thou sad man, I am not
She is thy Enemie, and I thy Friend,
I am Reuenge sent from th' infernall Kingdome,
To ease the gnawing Vulture of the mind,
By working wreakefull vengeance on my Foes:
Come downe and welcome me to this worlds light,
Conferre with me of Murder and of Death,
Ther's not a hollow Caue or lurking
No Vast obscurity, or Misty vale,
Where bloody Murther or detested Rape,
Can couch for feare, but I will finde them out,
And in their eares tell them my dreadfull name,
Reuenge, which makes the foule offenders quake.
Tit. Art thou Reuenge? and art thou sent to
To be a torment to mine Enemies?
Tam. I am, therefore come downe and welcome
Tit. Doe me some
seruice ere I come to thee: 
thy side where Rape and Murder stands,
Now giue some
surance that thou art Reuenge,
Stab them, or teare them
on thy Chariot wheeles,
And then Ile come and be thy
And whirle along with thee about the
Prouide thee two proper Palfries, as blacke as
To hale thy vengefull Waggon swift away,
And finde out Murder in their guilty cares.
And when thy Car is loaden with their heads,
I will dismount, and by the Waggon wheele,
Trot like a Seruile footeman all day
Euen from Eptons rising in the East,
Vntill his very downefall in the Sea.
And day by day Ile do this heauy taske,
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
Tam. These are my Ministers, and come with
Tit. Are them thy Ministers, what are
Tam. Rape and Murder,
therefore called so,
Cause they take vengeance of such
kind of men.
Tit. Good Lord how like
the Empresse Sons they are, 
the Empresse: But we worldly men,
Haue miserable mad
Oh sweet Reuenge, now do I come to
And if one armes imbracement will content
I will imbrace thee in it by and by.
Tam. This closing with him, fits his
What ere I forge to feede his braine- sicke
Do you vphold, and maintaine in your
For now he firmely takes me for
And being Credulous in this mad thought,
Ile make him send for Lucius
And whil'st I at a Banquet hold him
Ile find some cunning practise out of hand
To scatter and disperse the giddie Gothes,
Or at the least make them his Enemies:
See heere he comes, and I must play my theame.
Tit. Long haue I bene forlorne, and all for
Welcome dread Fury to my woefull house,
Rapine and Murther, you are welcome too,
How like the Empresse and her Sonnes you are.
Well are you fitted, had you but a
Could not all hell afford you such a deuill?
For well I wote the Empresse neuer wags;
But in her company there is a Moore,
would you represent our Queene aright
It were conuenient
you had such a deuill:
But welcome as you are, what shall
Tam. What would'st thou haue vs doe
Dem. Shew me a
Murtherer, Ile deale with him.
Shew me a Villaine that hath done a Rape, 
And I am sent to be reueng'd on him.
Tam. Shew me a thousand that haue done thee
And Ile be reuenged on them all.
Tit. Looke round about the wicked streets of
And when thou find'st a man that's like thy
Good Murder stab him, hee's a Murtherer.
Goe thou with him, and when it is thy hap
To finde another that is like to thee,
Good Rapine stab him, he is a Rauisher.
Go thou with them, and in the Emperours Court,
There is a Queene attended by a
Well maist thou know her by thy owne
For vp and downe she doth resemble
I pray thee doe on them some violent death,
They haue bene violent to me and mine.
Tam. Well hast thou lesson'd vs, this shall we
But would it please thee good
To send for Lucius thy thrice
Who leades towards Rome a Band of Warlike
And bid him come and Banquet at thy house.
When he is heere, euen at thy
I will bring in the Empresse and her
The Emperour himselfe, and all thy Foes,
And at thy mercy shall they stoop, and kneele,
And on them shalt thou ease, thy angry heart:
What saies Andronicus to this deuise?
Enter Marcus. Tit.
Marcus my Brother, 'tis sad Titus calls,
gentle Marcus to thy Nephew Lucius,
Thou shalt enquire him out among the Gothes,
Bid him repaire to me, and bring with
Some of the chiefest Princes of the Gothes,
Bid him encampe his Souldiers where they are,
Tell him the Emperour, and the Empresse too,
Feasts at my house, and he shall Feast with them,
This do thou for my loue, and so let him,
As he regards his aged Fathers life.
Mar. This will I do, and soone returne
Tam. Now will I hence about thy
And take my Ministers along with me.
Tit. Nay, nay, let
Rape and Murder stay with me,
Or els Ile call my Brother
And cleaue to no reuenge but
Tam. What say you Boyes,
will you bide with him,
Whiles I goe tell my Lord the
How I haue gouern'd our determined iest?
Yeeld to his Humour, smooth and speake him faire,
And tarry with him till I turne againe.
Tit. I know them all, though they suppose me
And will ore- reach them in their owne
A payre of cursed hell-
hounds and their Dam.
Dem. Madam depart at
pleasure, leaue vs heere.
Andronicus, reuenge now goes
To lay a complot to
betray thy Foes.
Tit. I know thou doo'st,
and sweet reuenge farewell.
Chi. Tell vs
old man, how shall we be imploy'd?
Tut, I haue worke enough for you to doe,
come hither, Caius, and Valentine.
Pub. What is your will?
Know you these two? 
Pub. The Empresse Sonnes
I take them,
Publius, fie, thou art too much deceau'd,
is Murder, Rape is the others name,
And therefore bind
them gentle Publius,
Valentine, lay hands on them,
Oft haue you heard
me wish for such an houre,
And now I find it, therefore
binde them sure,
Chi. Villaines forbeare,
we are the Empresse Sonnes.
therefore do we, what we are commanded. 
Stop close their mouthes, let them not speake a word,
Is he sure bound, looke that you binde them fast.
Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lauinia
with a Bason. Tit.
Come, come Lauinia, looke, thy Foes are bound,
Sirs stop their mouthes, let them not speake to me,
But let them heare what fearefull words I
Oh Villaines, Chiron, and
Here stands the spring whom you haue
stain'd with mud,
This 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
Both her sweet Hands, her Tongue, and that more
Then Hands or tongue, her spotlesse Chastity,
Inhumaine Traytors, you constrain'd and for'st.
What would you say, if I should let you speake?
Villaines for shame you could not beg for grace.
Harke Wretches, how I meane to martyr you,
This one Hand yet is left, to cut your throats,
Whil'st that Lauinia tweene her
stumps doth hold:
The Bason that receiues your guilty
You know your Mother meanes to feast with
And calls herselfe Reuenge, and thinkes me mad.
Harke 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 make two Pasties of your shamefull Heads,
And bid that strumpet your vnhallowed Dam,
Like to the earth swallow her increase.
This is the Feast, that I haue bid her
And this the Banquet she shall surfet on,
For worse then Philomel you vsd my Daughter,
And worse then Progne, I will be reueng'd,
And 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,
Come, come, be euery one officious, 
To make this Banket, which I wish might proue,
More sterne and bloody then the Centaures Feast.
He cuts their throats.
So now bring them
in, for Ile play the Cooke,
And see them ready, gainst
their Mother comes.
[Titus Andronicus (Folio) 5.3]
Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Gothes. Luc. Vnckle Marcus, since 'tis my Fathers
That I repair to Rome, I am content.
Goth. And ours with thine befall, what Fortune
Luc. Good Vnckle take you in
this barbarous Moore, 
Rauenous Tiger, this accursed deuill,
Let him receiue no
sustenance, fetter him,
Till he be brought vnto the
For testimony of her foule
And see the Ambush of our Friends be
If ere the Emperour meanes no good to vs.
Aron. Some deuill whisper curses in my
And prompt me that my tongue may vtter forth,
The Venemous Mallice of my swelling heart.
Luc. Away Inhumaine Dogge, Vnhallowed Slaue,
Sirs, helpe our Vnckle, to conuey
him in, Flourish.
The Trumpets shew the Emperour is at hand.
Sound Trumpets. Enter Emperour and Empresse, withTribunes and others.
Sat. What, hath the Firemament more Suns then one?
Luc. What bootes it thee to call thy selfe a
Mar. Romes Emperour & Nephewe
breake the parle
These quarrels must be quietly
The Feast is ready which the carefull
Hath ordained to an Honourable end, 
For Peace, for Loue, for League, and good to Rome:
Please you therfore draw nie and take your places.
Satur. Marcus we will.
A Table brought in.
Enter Titus like a Cooke, placing the meat on
the Table, and Lauinia with a vale ouer her face. Titus. Welcome my gracious Lord,
Welcome Dread Queene,
Welcome ye Warlike
Gothes, welcome Lucius,
And welcome all:
although the cheere be poore, 
fill your stomacks, please you eat of it.
Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd Andronicus?
Tit. Because I would be sure to haue all
To entertaine your Highnesse, and your
Tam. We are beholding to you good
Tit. And if your
Highnesse knew my heart, you were:
My Lord the Emperour
resolue me this,
Was it well done of rash
To slay his daughter with his owne
Because she was enfor'st, stain'd, and
Tit. Your reason,
Sat. Because the Girle, should
not suruiue her shame,
And by her presence still renew
Tit. A reason mighty, strong,
A patterne, president, and liuely
For me (most wretched) to performe the
Die, die, Lauinia, and thy shame with
And with thy shame, thy Fathers sorrow
He kils her. 
Sat. What hast done, vnnaturall and
Tit. Kil'd her for whom my teares
haue made me blind.
I am as wofull as Virginius
And haue a thousand times more cause then he.
Sat. What was she rauisht? tell who did the
Tit. Wilt please you eat,
Wilt please your Highnesse feed?
Tam. Why hast thou slaine thine onely Daughter?
Titus. Not I, 'twas Chiron and
They rauisht her, and cut away
her tongue, 
And they, 'twas they,
that did her all this wrong.
Satu. Go fetch
them hither to vs presently.
Tit. Why there
they are both, baked in that Pie,
Whereof their Mother
daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herselfe
'Tis true, 'tis true, witnesse my kniues
He stabs the Empresse.
Satu. Die franticke wretch, for this accursed
Luc. Can the Sonnes eye, behold his
There's meede for meede, death for a
deadly deed. 
sad fac'd men, people and Sonnes of Rome,
seuer'd like a flight of Fowle,
Scattred by windes and
high tempestuous gusts:
Oh let me teach you how, to knit
This scattred Corne, into one mutuall
These broken limbs againe into one body.
Goth. Let Rome herselfe be bane vnto
And shee whom mightie kingdomes cursie
Like a forlorne and desperate castaway,
Doe shamefull execution on her selfe.
But if my frostie signes and chaps of
Graue witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speake Romes deere friend, as er'st our Auncestor,
When with his solemne tongue he did
To loue- sicke Didoes sad attending
The story of that balefull burning night,
When subtil Greekes surpriz'd King Priams Troy:
Tell vs what Sinon hath bewicht our eares,
Or who hath brought the fatall engine in,
That giues our Troy, our Rome the ciuill
My heart is not compact of flint nor steele,
Nor can I vtter all our bitter griefe,
But floods of teares will drowne my Oratorie,
And breake my very vttrance, euen in the time
When it should moue you to attend me most,
Lending your kind hand Commiseration.
Heere is a Captaine, let him tell the tale,
Your hearts will throb and weepe to heare him
Luc. This Noble Auditory, be
it knowne to you, 
Chiron and Demetrius
Were they that murdred
our Emperours Brother,
And they it were that rauished our
For their fell faults our Brothers were
Our Fathers teares despis'd, and basely
Of that true hand that fought Romes quarrell
And sent her enemies vnto the graue.
Lastly, my selfe vnkindly banished,
gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
reliefe among Romes Enemies, 
drown'd their enmity in my true teares,
And op'd their
armes to imbrace me as a Friend:
And I am turned forth,
be it knowne to you,
That haue preseru'd her welfare in
And from her bosome tooke the Enemies
Sheathing the steele in my aduentrous body.
Alas you know, I am no Vaunter I,
scars can witnesse, dumbe although they are,
report is iust and full of truth:
But soft, me
thinkes I do digresse too much, 
Cyting my worthlesse praise: Oh pardon me,
For when no Friends are by, men praise themselues,
Marc. Now is my turne to speake: Behold this
Of this was Tamora deliuered,
The issue of an Irreligious Moore,
Chiefe Architect and plotter of these woes,
The Villaine is aliue in Titus house,
And as he is, to witnesse this is true.
Now iudge what course had Titus to reuenge
These wrongs, vnspeakeable past patience,
Or more then any liuing man could
Now you haue heard the truth, what say you
Haue we done ought amisse? shew vs
And from the place where you behold vs
The poore remainder of Andronici,
Will hand in hand all headlong cast vs downe,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our braines,
And make a mutuall closure of our house:
Speake Romaines speake, and if you say we shall,
Loe hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
Emilli. Come come, thou
reuerent man of Rome,
And bring our Emperour gently in
Lucius our Emperour: for well I
The common voyce do cry it shall be so.
Mar. Lucius, all haile Romes Royall
Goe, goe into old Titus sorrowfull
And hither hale that misbelieuing
To be adiudg'd some direfull slaughtering
As punishment for his most wicked
Lucius all haile to Romes gracious
Luc. Thankes gentle Romanes, may I gouerne
To heale Romes harmes, and wipe away her woe.
But gentle people, giue me ayme a- while,
For Nature puts me to a heauy taske:
Stand all aloofe, but Vnckle draw you neere,
To shed obsequious teares vpon this Trunke:
Oh take this warme kisse on thy pale cold lips,
These sorrowfull drops vpon thy bloud- slaine face,
The last true Duties of thy Noble Sonne.
Mar. Teare for teare, and louing kisse for kisse,
Thy Brother Marcus tenders on
O were the summe of these that I should
Countlesse, and infinit, yet would I pay them.
Luc. Come hither Boy, come, come, and learne of
To melt in showres: thy Grandsire lou'd thee
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee:
Sung thee asleepe, his Louing Brest, thy Pillow:
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meete, and agreeing with thine Infancie:
respect then, like a louing Childe, 
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender Spring,
Because kinde Nature doth require it so:
Friends, should associate Friends, in Greefe and Wo.
Bid him farwell, commit him to the Graue,
Do him that kindnesse, and take leaue of him.
Boy. O Grandsire, Grandsire: euen with all my
Would I were Dead, so you did Liue againe.
O Lord, I cannot speake to him for weeping,
My teares will choake me, if I ope my
Romans. You sad
Andronici, haue done with woes, 
Giue sentence on this execrable Wretch,
That hath beene breeder of these dire euents.
Luc. Set him brest deepe in earth, and famish
There let him stand, and raue, and cry for
If any one releeues, or pitties him,
For the offence, he dyes. This is our doome:
Some stay, to see him fast'ned in the earth.
Aron. O why should wrath be mute, & Fury
I am no Baby I, that with base Prayers
I should repent the Euils I haue done.
Ten thousand worse, then euer yet I
Would I performe if I might haue my will:
If one good Deed in all my life I did,
do repent it from my very Soule.
Some louing Friends conuey the Emp. hence,
And giue him
buriall in his Fathers graue.
My Father, and
Lauinia, shall forthwith
Be closed in our
As for that heynous Tyger
No Funerall Rite, nor man in
mournfull Weeds: 
No mournfull Bell
shall ring her Buriall:
But throw her foorth to Beasts
and Birds of prey:
Her life was Beast- like, and deuoid
And being so, shall haue like want of
See Iustice done on Aaron that damn'd
From whom, our heauy happes had their
Then afterwards, to Order well the
That like Euents, may ne're it Ruinate.
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