The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 514

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1594

THE TRAGEDY OF t.i.tUS ANDRONICUS

by William Shakespeare

Dramatis Personae

SATURNINUS, son to the late Emperor of Rome, afterwards Emperor Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s, brother to Saturninus t.i.tUS ANDRONICUS, a n.o.ble Roman MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People, and brother to t.i.tus

Sons to t.i.tus Andronicus: LUCIUS QUINTUS MARTIUS MUTIUS

YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son to Lucius PUBLIUS, son to Marcus Andronicus

Kinsmen to t.i.tus: SEMp.r.o.nIUS CAIUS VALENTINE

AEMILIUS, a n.o.ble Roman

Sons to Tamora: ALARBUS DEMETRIUS CHIRON

AARON, a Moor, beloved by Tamora A CAPTAIN A MESSENGER A CLOWN

TAMORA, Queen of the Goths LAVINIA, daughter to t.i.tus Andronicus A NURSE, and a black CHILD

Romans and Goths, Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants

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SCENE: Rome and the neighbourhood

ACT 1. SCENE I.

Rome. Before the Capitol

Flourish. Enter the TRIBUNES and SENATORS aloft; and then enter below SATURNINUS and his followers at one door, and Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s and his followers at the other, with drums and trumpets

SATURNINUS. n.o.ble patricians, patrons of my right, Defend the justice of my cause with arms; And, countrymen, my loving followers, Plead my successive t.i.tle with your swords.

I am his first born son that was the last That ware the imperial diadem of Rome; Then let my father's honours live in me, Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right, If ever Ba.s.sia.n.u.s, Caesar's son, Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, Keep then this pa.s.sage to the Capitol; And suffer not dishonour to approach The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, To justice, continence, and n.o.bility; But let desert in pure election s.h.i.+ne; And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the crown

MARCUS. Princes, that strive by factions and by friends Ambitiously for rule and empery, Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand A special party, have by common voice In election for the Roman empery Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius For many good and great deserts to Rome.

A n.o.bler man, a braver warrior, Lives not this day within the city walls.

He by the Senate is accited home, From weary wars against the barbarous Goths, That with his sons, a terror to our foes, Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.

Ten years are spent since first he undertook This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms Our enemies' pride; five times he hath return'd Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons In coffins from the field; and at this day To the monument of that Andronici Done sacrifice of expiation, And slain the n.o.blest prisoner of the Goths.

And now at last, laden with honour's spoils, Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, Renowned t.i.tus, flouris.h.i.+ng in arms.

Let us entreat, by honour of his name Whom worthily you would have now succeed, And in the Capitol and Senate's right, Whom you pretend to honour and adore, That you withdraw you and abate your strength, Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should, Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

SATURNINUS. How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.

Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy In thy uprightness and integrity, And so I love and honour thee and thine, Thy n.o.ble brother t.i.tus and his sons, And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, That I will here dismiss my loving friends, And to my fortunes and the people's favour Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.

Exeunt the soldiers of Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s SATURNINUS. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, I thank you all and here dismiss you all, And to the love and favour of my country Commit myself, my person, and the cause.

Exeunt the soldiers of SATURNINUS Rome, be as just and gracious unto me As I am confident and kind to thee.

Open the gates and let me in.

Ba.s.sIa.n.u.s. Tribunes, and me, a poor compet.i.tor.

[Flourish. They go up into the Senate House]

Enter a CAPTAIN

CAPTAIN. Romans, make way. The good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd From where he circ.u.mscribed with his sword And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.

Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS, two of t.i.tUS' sons; and then two men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS, two other sons; then t.i.tUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA the Queen of Goths, with her three sons, ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, with AARON the Moor, and others, as many as can be. Then set down the coffin and t.i.tUS speaks

t.i.tUS. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

Lo, as the bark that hath discharg'd her fraught Returns with precious lading to the bay From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, To re-salute his country with his tears, Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

Thou great defender of this Capitol, Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!

Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, Half of the number that King Priam had, Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!

These that survive let Rome reward with love; These that I bring unto their latest home, With burial amongst their ancestors.

Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.

t.i.tus, unkind, and careless of thine own, Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, To hover on the dreadful sh.o.r.e of Styx?

Make way to lay them by their brethren.

[They open the tomb]

There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars.

O sacred receptacle of my joys, Sweet cell of virtue and n.o.bility, How many sons hast thou of mine in store That thou wilt never render to me more!

LUCIUS. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh Before this earthy prison of their bones, That so the shadows be not unappeas'd, Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

t.i.tUS. I give him you- the n.o.blest that survives, The eldest son of this distressed queen.

TAMORA. Stay, Roman brethen! Gracious conqueror, Victorious t.i.tus, rue the tears I shed, A mother's tears in pa.s.sion for her son; And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, O, think my son to be as dear to me!

Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome To beautify thy triumphs, and return Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke; But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets For valiant doings in their country's cause?

O, if to fight for king and commonweal Were piety in thine, it is in these.

Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the G.o.ds?

Draw near them then in being merciful.

Sweet mercy is n.o.bility's true badge.

Thrice-n.o.ble t.i.tus, spare my first-born son.

t.i.tUS. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.