[Exit.

Mar. Now let hot Ætna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell! These miseries are more than may be borne! To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,

But sorrow flouted at is double death.

Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,

And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
[Lavinia kisses him.
Mar. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfort-

less,

As frozen water to a starved snake.

Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?

Mar. Now farewell flattery: Die, Andronicus;
Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads;
Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter here;
Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs:
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal
sight

The closing up of our most wretched eyes!
Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with
this hour.

Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed:
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
And would usurp upon my wat❜ry eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears;
Then which way shall I find revenge's cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me;
And threat me, I shall never come to bliss,
Till all these mischiefs be return'd again,
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.-
You heavy people, circle me about;
That I may turn me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made.-Come, brother, take a head;
And in this hand the other will I bear:
Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things;
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
teeth.

As for thee, boy, go, get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.

[Exeunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia. Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father; The woeful'st man that ever liv'd in Rome!

O, 'would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been!
But now nor Lucius, nor Lavinia lives,
But in oblivion, and hateful griefs.

If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;
And make proud Saturninus and his empress
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,
To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine.

[Erit.

SCENE II.-A room in TITUS's house. A banquet set out.

Enter TITUS, Marcus, Lavinia, and young LUCIUS, a boy.

Tit. So, so; now sit: and look, you eat no

more

Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot;
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our ten-fold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
And when my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.-

Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs! [To Lavinia. When thy poor heart beats with outrageous

beating,

Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; Or get some little knife between thy teeth, And just against thy heart make thou a hole; That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall, May run into that sink, and, soaking in, Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears. Mar. Fye, brother, fye! teach her not thus to lay

Such violent hands upon her tender life.

Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote

already?

Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
What violent hands can she lay on her life?
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands;-
To bid Æneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands;
Lest we remember still, that we have none.-
Fye, fye, how franticly I square my talk!
As if we should forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands!-
Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:-
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she

says;

I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;-
She says, she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her sorrows, mesh'd upon her
cheeks:-

Confederate in the fact;-Ay, more there was :Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. Tit. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so? Boy. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis; My mother gave't me.

Mar. For love of her that's gone, Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest. Tit. Soft! see, how busily she turns the leaves! Help her :

What would she find ?-Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,

And treats of Tereus' treason, and his rape;
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.
Mar. See, brother, see! note, how she quotes
the leaves.

Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet
girl,

Ravish'd, and wrong'd, as Philomela was,
Fore'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
See, see!-

Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt,
(0, had we never, never hunted there!)
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
Mar. O, why should nature build so foul a
den,

Unless the gods delight in tragedies!

Tit. Give signs, sweet girl,-for here are none
but friends,-

What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?

Mar. Sit down, sweet nicce; brother, sit down by me.-

Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

Inspire me, that I may this treason find!My lord, look here;-look here, Lavinia: This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst, This after me, when I have writ my name Without the help of any hand at all.

[He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with his feet and mouth. Curs'd be that heart, that forc'd us to this shift!— Write thou, good niece; and here display, at last, What God will have discover'd for revenge: Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, That we may know the traitors, and the truth! [She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes. Tit. O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ?

Stuprum-Chiron-Demetrius.

Mar. What, what !--the lustful sons of Ta

mcra

Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
Tit. Magne Dominator poli,

Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? Mar. O, calmn thec, gentle lord! although I know,

There is enough written upon this earth,
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,

And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
And swear with me,—as with the woful feere,
And father, of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,-
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.

Tit. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how,
But if you hurt these bear-whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And, when he sleeps, will she do what she list.
You're a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And, with a gad of steel, will write these words,
And lay it by: the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad,
And where's your lesson then?-Boy, what say
you?

Boy. I say, my lord, that if I were a man, Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe For these bad-bondmen to the yoke of Rome. Mar. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft

For this ungrateful country done the like.
Boy. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.

Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury;
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy
Shall carry from me to the empress' sons
Presents, that I intend to send them both:
Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou
not?

Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another

course.

Lavinia, come:-Marcus, look to my house;
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on.
[Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and Boy.
Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man
groan,

And not relent, or not compassion him ?—
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield:
But yet so just, that he will not revenge:—
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!

[Erit.

SCENE II.-The same. A room in the palace. Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, at one door; at another door, young LUCIUS, and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.

Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; He hath some message to deliver to us. Aur. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus ;And pray the Roman gods confound you both! [Aside. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news?

Boy. That you are both decypher'd, that's the news,

For villains, mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you,

My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury,
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say,
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well :
And so I leave you both, Aside.] like bloody

villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? a scroll; and written round about?

But let her rest in her unrest a while.-
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate,
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a
lord

Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius ? Did you not use his daughter very friendly? Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames

At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love.
Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say

grace ;

She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver❜d.
Aar. To whom?

Nur. I mean, she's brought to bed.
Aar. Well, God

Give her good rest! What hath he sent her?
Nur. A devil.

Aar. Why, then she's the devil's dam ; a joyful issue.

Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:

Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime.
The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
Aur. Out, out, you whore! is black so base
a hue?-

Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar. Done! that which thou

Canst not undo.

Chi. Thou hast undone our mother.

Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother.

Dem. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast un

done.

Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!

Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend!
Chi. It shall not live.
Aar. It shall not die.

Nur. Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so. Aar. What, must it, nurse? then let no man, but I,

Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Dem. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:

Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it. Aar. Sooner this bowels up.

sword shall plough thy [Takes the child from the Nurse, and draws.

Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?

Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my scymitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what, ye sanguine shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-lim'd walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,

In that it scorns to bear another hue:
For all the water in the ocean

Can never turn a swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own; excuse it how she can.
Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
Aar. My mistress is my mistress; this, myself;
The vigour, and the picture of my youth:
This, before all the world do I prefer ;
This, maugre all the world, will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
Chi. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
Nur. The emperor, in his rage, will doom her

death.

Chi. I blush to think upon this ignominy. Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:

Fy, treacherous hue! that will betray with blushing

The close enacts and counsels of the heart!
Here's a young
lad fram'd of another leer:
Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father;
As who should say, Old lad, I am thine own.
He is your brother, lords; sensibly fed

Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;
And, from that womb, where you imprison'd

were,

He is enfranchised and come to light:
Nay, he's your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.

Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?
Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice;
Save thou the child, so we may all besafe.

Aar. Then sit we down, and let us all consult. My son and I will have the wind of you: Keep there: Now talk at pleasure of your safety. [They sit on the ground. Dem. How many women saw this child of his? Aar. Why, so, brave lords: When we all join in league,

I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.—
But, say again, how many saw the child?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife, and myself,
And no one else, but the deliver'd empress.
Aar. The emperess, the midwife, and yourself:
Two may keep counsel, when the third's away:

Go to the empress; tell her, this I said:

[Stabbing her. Weke, weke! So cries a pig prepared to the spit. Dem. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?

Aar. O lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy: Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours? A long-tongu'd babbling gossip? no, lords, no. And now be it known to you my full intent. Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman, His wife but yesternight was brought to bed; His child is like to her, fair as you are: Go pack with him, and give the mother gold, And tell them both the circumstance of all; And how by this their child shall be advanc'd, And be received for the emperor's heir, And substituted in the place of mine, To calm this tempest whirling in the court; And let the emperor dandle him for his own. Hark ye, lords; ye see that I have given her physic, [Pointing to the Nurse. And you must needs bestow her funeral; The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms: This done, see that you take no longer days, But send the midwife presently to me. The midwife, and the nurse, well made away, Then let the ladies tattle what they please.

Chi. Aaron, I see, thou wilt not trust the air With secrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora, Herself, and hers, are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt Dem. and Chi, bearing off the Nurse. Aar. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow

flies;

There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
And secretly to greet the empress' friends.—
Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you
hence;

For it is you that puts us to our shifts:
I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
And cabin in a cave; and bring you up
To be a warrior, and command a camp. [Exit.

SCENE III.-The same. A public place. Enter TITUS, bearing arrows, with letters at the ends of them; with him MARCUS, young LuCIUS, and other Gentlemen, with bows.

Tit. Come, Marcus, come ;-Kinsmen, this
is the way:-

Sir boy, now let me see your archery;
Look yedraw home enough, and 'tis there straight:
Terras Astræa reliquit :

Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shail
Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets:
Happily you may find her in the sea;
Yet there's as little justice as at land:-
No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
'Tis you must dig with mattock, and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth;