The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 519

A very fatal place it seems to me.

Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?

MARTIUS. O brother, with the dismal'st object hurt That ever eye with sight made heart lament!

AARON. [Aside] Now will I fetch the King to find them here, That he thereby may have a likely guess How these were they that made away his brother. Exit MARTIUS. Why dost not comfort me, and help me out From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?

QUINTUS. I am surprised with an uncouth fear; A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints; My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.

MARTIUS. To prove thou hast a true divining heart, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death.

QUINTUS. Aaron is gone, and my compa.s.sionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; O, tell me who it is, for ne'er till now Was I a child to fear I know not what.

MARTIUS. Lord Ba.s.sia.n.u.s lies beray'd in blood, All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb, In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

QUINTUS. If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?

MARTIUS. Upon his b.l.o.o.d.y finger he doth wear A precious ring that lightens all this hole, Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth s.h.i.+ne upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of this pit; So pale did s.h.i.+ne the moon on Pyramus When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood.

O brother, help me with thy fainting hand- If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath- Out of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.

QUINTUS. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb Of this deep pit, poor Ba.s.sia.n.u.s' grave.

I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.

MARTIUS. Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.

QUINTUS. Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, Till thou art here aloft, or I below.

Thou canst not come to me- I come to thee. [Falls in]

Enter the EMPEROR and AARON the Moor

SATURNINUS. Along with me! I'll see what hole is here, And what he is that now is leapt into it.

Say, who art thou that lately didst descend Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

MARTIUS. The unhappy sons of old Andronicus, Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, To find thy brother Ba.s.sia.n.u.s dead.

SATURNINUS. My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: He and his lady both are at the lodge Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; 'Tis not an hour since I left them there.

MARTIUS. We know not where you left them all alive; But, out alas! here have we found him dead.

Re-enter TAMORA, with attendants; t.i.tUS ANDRONICUS and Lucius

TAMORA. Where is my lord the King?

SATURNINUS. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.

TAMORA. Where is thy brother Ba.s.sia.n.u.s?

SATURNINUS. Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound; Poor Ba.s.sia.n.u.s here lies murdered.

TAMORA. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, The complot of this timeless tragedy; And wonder greatly that man's face can fold In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.

[She giveth SATURNINE a letter]

SATURNINUS. [Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely, Sweet huntsman- Ba.s.sia.n.u.s 'tis we mean- Do thou so much as dig the grave for him.

Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward Among the nettles at the elder-tree Which overshades the mouth of that same pit Where we decreed to bury Ba.s.sia.n.u.s.

Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.'

O Tamora! was ever heard the like?

This is the pit and this the elder-tree.

Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out That should have murdered Ba.s.sia.n.u.s here.

AARON. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.

SATURNINUS. [To t.i.tUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of b.l.o.o.d.y kind, Have here bereft my brother of his life.

Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison; There let them bide until we have devis'd Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

TAMORA. What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!

How easily murder is discovered!

t.i.tUS. High Emperor, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, That this fell fault of my accursed sons- Accursed if the fault be prov'd in them- SATURNINUS. If it be prov'd! You see it is apparent.

Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?

TAMORA. Andronicus himself did take it up.

t.i.tUS. I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail; For, by my fathers' reverend tomb, I vow They shall be ready at your Highness' will To answer their suspicion with their lives.

SATURNINUS. Thou shalt not bail them; see thou follow me.

Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers; Let them not speak a word- the guilt is plain; For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, That end upon them should be executed.

TAMORA. Andronicus, I will entreat the King.

Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.

t.i.tUS. Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. Exeunt

SCENE IV.

Another part of the forest

Enter the Empress' sons, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, with LAVINIA, her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out, and ravish'd

DEMETRIUS. So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.

CHIRON. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.

DEMETRIUS. See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.

CHIRON. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.

DEMETRIUS. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; And so let's leave her to her silent walks.

CHIRON. An 'twere my cause, I should go hang myself.

DEMETRIUS. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.

Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON

Wind horns. Enter MARCUS, from hunting

MARCUS. Who is this?- my niece, that flies away so fast?

Cousin, a word: where is your husband?

If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!

If I do wake, some planet strike me down, That I may slumber an eternal sleep!

Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands Hath lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare Of her two branches- those sweet ornaments Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, And might not gain so great a happiness As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?

Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, Coming and going with thy honey breath.

But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee, And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.

Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!

And notwithstanding all this loss of blood- As from a conduit with three issuing spouts- Yet do thy cheeks look red as t.i.tan's face Blus.h.i.+ng to be encount'red with a cloud.

Shall I speak for thee? Shall I say 'tis so?

O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast, That I might rail at him to ease my mind!

Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.

Fair Philomel, why she but lost her tongue, And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind; But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee.

A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, And he hath cut those pretty fingers off That could have better sew'd than Philomel.

O, had the monster seen those lily hands Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, He would not then have touch'd them for his life!

Or had he heard the heavenly harmony Which that sweet tongue hath made, He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep, As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.

Come, let us go, and make thy father blind, For such a sight will blind a father's eye; One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads, What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?

Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee; O, could our mourning case thy misery! Exeunt

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ACT III. SCENE I.