When it should move you to attend me most, Here is a captain, let him tell the tale; Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak. Luc. Then, noble auditory, be it known to you, That cursed Chiron and Demetrius Were they that murdered our emperor's brother; For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded; The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, My scars can witness, dumb although they are, For when no friends are by, men praise themselves. Of this was Tamora delivered; The issue of an irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes; The villain is alive in Titus' house, Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true. i. e. and he basely cozen'd." Or more than any living man could bear. say you, Romans? Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down, Speak, Romans, speak; and, if you say, we shall, Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, And bring our emperor gently in thy hand, Lucius our emperor; for, well I know, The common voice do cry, it shall be so. Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's royal emperor ! LUCIUS, &c. descend. Mar. Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house; [To an Attendant. And hither hale that misbelieving Moor, To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death, As punishment for his most wicked life. Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's gracious governor! Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans; May I govern so, To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe! But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,For nature puts me to a heavy task;— Stand all aloof,-but, uncle, draw you near, To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk:O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, [Kisses TITUS. These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face, The last true duties of thy noble son! Mar. Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, 6 i. e. we the poor remainder, &c. will cast us down. Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips: To melt in showers: Thy grandsire lov'd thee well: Friends should associate friends in grief and woe: Enter Attendants, with AARON. 1 Rom. You sad Andronici, have done with woes; Give sentence on this execrable wretch, That hath been breeder of these dire events. Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him; For the offence he dies. This is our doom: Aar. O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb? I am no baby, I, that, with base prayers, That justise and cookery may go hand in hand to the conclusion of the play, in Ravenscroft's alteration of it, Aaron is at once racked and roasted on the stage. If one good deed in all my life I did, Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor hence, No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, But throw her forth to beasts, and birds of prey: [Exeunt. ALL the editors and critics agree in supposing this play spurious. I see no reason for differing from them; for the colour of the style is wholly different from that of the other plays, and there is an attempt at regular versification, and artificial closes, not always inelegant, yet seldom pleasing. The barbarity of the spectacles, and the general massacre which are here exhibited, can scarcely be conceived tolerable to any audience, yet we are told by Jonson that they were not only borne but praised. That Shakspeare wrote any part, though Theobald declares it incontestable, I see no reason for believing. JOHNSON. |