Sidor som bilder

Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!

Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive

To tremble under Titus' threatening look.
Then, madam, stand resolv'd; but hope withal,
The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge

Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,1
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths,

(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen,)
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with their Swords bloody.

Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,

Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

1 The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy With opportunity of sharp revenge

Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, &c.] I read, against the authority of all the copies :

in her tent,

i. e. in the tent where she and the other Trojan captive women were kept for thither Hecuba by a wile had decoyed Polymnestor, in order to perpetrate her revenge. This we may learn from Euripides's Hecuba; the only author, that I can at present remember, from whom our writer must have gleaned this circumstance. Theobald.

Mr. Theobald should first have proved to us that our author understood Greek, or else that this play of Euripides had been translated. In the mean time, because neither of these particulars are verified, we may as well suppose he took it from the old story-book of the Trojan War, or the old translation of Ovid. See Metam. XIII. The writer of the play, whoever he was, might have been misled by the passage in Ovid: "vadit ad ar tificem," and therefore took it for granted that she found him in his tent. Steevens.

I have no doubt that the writer of this play had read Euripides in the original. Mr. Steevens justly observes in a subsequent note near the end of this scene, that there is "a plain allusion to the Ajax of Sophocles, of which no translation was extant in the time of Shakspeare." Malone.

Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus Make this his latest farewel to their souls.

[Trumpets sounded, and the Coffins laid in the Tomb. In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,2 Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow no damned grudges; here, are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:


In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!

Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears

I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.
Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!-
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise !3


Mar. Long live lord Titus, my beloved brother, Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. Mar. And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, You that survive, and you that sleep in fame. Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,

2 repose you here,] Old copies, redundantly in respect both to sense and metre:

repose you here in rest. Steevens. The same redundancy in the edition 1600, as noted in other copies by Mr. Steevens. Todd.

3 And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!] This absurd wish is made sense of, by changing and into in. Warburton. To live in fame's date is, if an allowable, yet a harsh expres


To outlive an eternal date, is, though not philosophical, yet poetical sense. He wishes that her life may be longer than his, and her praise longer than fame. Johnson.



That in your country's service drew your swords:
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That.hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,*
And triumphs over chance, in honour's bed.-
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune, and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to set a head on headless Rome.
Tit. A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his, that shakes for age and feebleness:
What! should I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations to-day;
To-morrow, yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroad new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully;
And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country:
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world:
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?—
Tit. Patience, prince Saturnine.7

That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,] The maxim of Solon here alluded to is, that no man can be pronounced to be happy before his death:



ultima semper

Expectanda dies homini; dicique beatus

"Ante obitum nemo, supremaque funera, debet." Ovid.


5 don this robe,] i. e. do on this robe, put it on. So, in Hamlet:

"Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes. Steevens.

6 Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.] Here is rather too much of the ὕστερον πότερον. Steevens.

7 Patience, prince Saturnine.] Edition 1600,

Patience prince Saturninus. Todd.


Romans, do me right;—

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor :-
Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipp'd to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.

Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

Tit. Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. Bas. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,

But honour thee, and will do till I die;

My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,"
I will most thankful be: and thanks, to men

Of noble minds, is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,
I ask your voices, and your suffrages;

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
Trib. To gratify the good Andronicus,

And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,
That you create your emperor's eldest son,
Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this common-weal:
Then if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and say,-Long live our emperor!
Mar. With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor;
And say,-Long live our emperor Saturnine!

[A long Flourish.

Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
To us in our election this day,

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
And, for an onset, Titus, to advance

Thy name, and honourable family,


thy friends,] Old copies-friend.

fourth folio.


Corrected in the

Edition 1600, friend, as in other old copies noted by Mr. Ma

lone. Todd.

Lavinia will I make my emperess,

Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
Tit. It doth, my worthy lord; and, in this match,
I hold me highly honour'd of your grace:
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,-
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's emperor,-do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:1
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts,
Rome shall record; and, when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor;


To him, that for your honour and your state,

Will use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew.-
Clear up, fair queen,
that cloudy countenance;

Though chance of war hath wrought this change of


Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:

Princely shall be thy usage every way.

Rest on my word, and let not discontent

Daunt all your hopes; Madam, he comforts you,
Can make you greater than the queen of Goths.-
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my lord;2 sith true nobility

9 Pantheon] The quarto, 1611, and the first folioPathar; the second folio-Pantheon. Steevens.

Edition 1600-Pathan, as in other copies noted by Mr. SteeTodd.




imperial lord:] Edition 1600:
imperious lord. Todd.

Lav. Not I, my lord,] It was pity to part a couple who seem to have corresponded in disposition so exactly as Saturninus and

« FöregåendeFortsätt »