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    Complete Plays, The

    Page 8
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      A halter, soldiers! hang him on this tree.

      And by his side his fruit of bastardy.

      Aaron

      Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.

      Lucius

      Too like the sire for ever being good.

      First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;

      A sight to vex the father’s soul withal.

      Get me a ladder.

      A ladder brought, which Aaron is made to ascend

      Aaron

      Lucius, save the child,

      And bear it from me to the empress.

      If thou do this, I’ll show thee wondrous things,

      That highly may advantage thee to hear:

      If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,

      I’ll speak no more but ‘Vengeance rot you all!’

      Lucius

      Say on: an if it please me which thou speak’st

      Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish’d.

      Aaron

      An if it please thee! why, assure thee, Lucius,

      ’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;

      For I must talk of murders, rapes and massacres,

      Acts of black night, abominable deeds,

      Complots of mischief, treason, villanies

      Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform’d:

      And this shall all be buried by my death,

      Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.

      Lucius

      Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live.

      Aaron

      Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.

      Lucius

      Who should I swear by? thou believest no god:

      That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?

      Aaron

      What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not;

      Yet, for I know thou art religious

      And hast a thing within thee called conscience,

      With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies,

      Which I have seen thee careful to observe,

      Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know

      An idiot holds his bauble for a god

      And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,

      To that I’ll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow

      By that same god, what god soe’er it be,

      That thou adorest and hast in reverence,

      To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up;

      Or else I will discover nought to thee.

      Lucius

      Even by my god I swear to thee I will.

      Aaron

      First know thou, I begot him on the empress.

      Lucius

      O most insatiate and luxurious woman!

      Aaron

      Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity

      To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.

      ’Twas her two sons that murder’d Bassianus;

      They cut thy sister’s tongue and ravish’d her

      And cut her hands and trimm’d her as thou saw’st.

      Lucius

      O detestable villain! call’st thou that trimming?

      Aaron

      Why, she was wash’d and cut and trimm’d, and ’twas

      Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.

      Lucius

      O barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!

      Aaron

      Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them:

      That codding spirit had they from their mother,

      As sure a card as ever won the set;

      That bloody mind, I think, they learn’d of me,

      As true a dog as ever fought at head.

      Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.

      I train’d thy brethren to that guileful hole

      Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay:

      I wrote the letter that thy father found

      And hid the gold within the letter mention’d,

      Confederate with the queen and her two sons:

      And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,

      Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?

      I play’d the cheater for thy father’s hand,

      And, when I had it, drew myself apart

      And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter:

      I pry’d me through the crevice of a wall

      When, for his hand, he had his two sons’ heads;

      Beheld his tears, and laugh’d so heartily,

      That both mine eyes were rainy like to his :

      And when I told the empress of this sport,

      She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,

      And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.

      First Goth

      What, canst thou say all this, and never blush?

      Aaron

      Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.

      Lucius

      Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?

      Aaron

      Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.

      Even now I curse the day — and yet, I think,

      Few come within the compass of my curse,—

      Wherein I did not some notorious ill,

      As kill a man, or else devise his death,

      Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it,

      Accuse some innocent and forswear myself,

      Set deadly enmity between two friends,

      Make poor men’s cattle break their necks;

      Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,

      And bid the owners quench them with their tears.

      Oft have I digg’d up dead men from their graves,

      And set them upright at their dear friends’ doors,

      Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;

      And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,

      Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,

      ‘Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.’

      Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things

      As willingly as one would kill a fly,

      And nothing grieves me heartily indeed

      But that I cannot do ten thousand more.

      Lucius

      Bring down the devil; for he must not die

      So sweet a death as hanging presently.

      Aaron

      If there be devils, would I were a devil,

      To live and burn in everlasting fire,

      So I might have your company in hell,

      But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

      Lucius

      Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.

      Enter a Goth

      Third Goth

      My lord, there is a messenger from Rome

      Desires to be admitted to your presence.

      Lucius

      Let him come near.

      Enter Aemilius

      Welcome, Aemilius what’s the news from Rome?

      Aemilius

      Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,

      The Roman emperor greets you all by me;

      And, for he understands you are in arms,

      He craves a parley at your father’s house,

      Willing you to demand your hostages,

      And they shall be immediately deliver’d.

      First Goth

      What says our general?

      Lucius

      Aemilius, let the emperor give his pledges

      Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,

      And we will come. March away.

      Exeunt

      SCENE II. ROME. BEFORE TITUS’S HOUSE.

      Enter Tamora, Demetrius, and Chiron, disguised

      Tamora

      Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment,

      I will encounter with Andronicus,

      And say I am Revenge, sent from below

      To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.

      Knock at his study, where, they say, he keeps,

      To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;

      Tell him Revenge is come to join with him,

      And work confusion on his enemies.

    &nb
    sp; They knock

      Enter Titus, above

      Titus Andronicus

      Who doth molest my contemplation?

      Is it your trick to make me ope the door,

      That so my sad decrees may fly away,

      And all my study be to no effect?

      You are deceived: for what I mean to do

      See here in bloody lines I have set down;

      And what is written shall be executed.

      Tamora

      Titus, I am come to talk with thee.

      Titus Andronicus

      No, not a word; how can I grace my talk,

      Wanting a hand to give it action?

      Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more.

      Tamora

      If thou didst know me, thou wouldest talk with me.

      Titus Andronicus

      I am not mad; I know thee well enough:

      Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines;

      Witness these trenches made by grief and care,

      Witness the tiring day and heavy night;

      Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well

      For our proud empress, mighty Tamora:

      Is not thy coming for my other hand?

      Tamora

      Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora;

      She is thy enemy, and I thy friend:

      I am Revenge: sent from the infernal kingdom,

      To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind,

      By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.

      Come down, and welcome me to this world’s light;

      Confer with me of murder and of death:

      There’s not a hollow cave or lurking-place,

      No vast obscurity or misty vale,

      Where bloody murder or detested rape

      Can couch for fear, but I will find them out;

      And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,

      Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.

      Titus Andronicus

      Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me,

      To be a torment to mine enemies?

      Tamora

      I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.

      Titus Andronicus

      Do me some service, ere I come to thee.

      Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands;

      Now give me some surance that thou art Revenge,

      Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot-wheels;

      And then I’ll come and be thy waggoner,

      And whirl along with thee about the globe.

      Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,

      To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,

      And find out murderers in their guilty caves:

      And when thy car is loaden with their heads,

      I will dismount, and by the waggon-wheel

      Trot, like a servile footman, all day long,

      Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east

      Until his very downfall in the sea:

      And day by day I’ll do this heavy task,

      So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.

      Tamora

      These are my ministers, and come with me.

      Titus Andronicus

      Are these thy ministers? what are they call’d?

      Tamora

      Rapine and Murder; therefore called so,

      Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.

      Titus Andronicus

      Good Lord, how like the empress’ sons they are!

      And you, the empress! but we worldly men

      Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.

      O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee;

      And, if one arm’s embracement will content thee,

      I will embrace thee in it by and by.

      Exit above

      Tamora

      This closing with him fits his lunacy

      Whate’er I forge to feed his brain-sick fits,

      Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,

      For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;

      And, being credulous in this mad thought,

      I’ll make him send for Lucius his son;

      And, whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,

      I’ll find some cunning practise out of hand,

      To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,

      Or, at the least, make them his enemies.

      See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.

      Enter Titus below

      Titus Andronicus

      Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:

      Welcome, dread Fury, to my woful house:

      Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.

      How like the empress and her sons you are!

      Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor:

      Could not all hell afford you such a devil?

      For well I wot the empress never wags

      But in her company there is a Moor;

      And, would you represent our queen aright,

      It were convenient you had such a devil:

      But welcome, as you are. What shall we do?

      Tamora

      What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?

      Demetrius

      Show me a murderer, I’ll deal with him.

      Chiron

      Show me a villain that hath done a rape,

      And I am sent to be revenged on him.

      Tamora

      Show me a thousand that have done thee wrong,

      And I will be revenged on them all.

      Titus Andronicus

      Look round about the wicked streets of Rome;

      And when thou find’st a man that’s like thyself.

      Good Murder, stab him; he’s a murderer.

      Go thou with him; and when it is thy hap

      To find another that is like to thee,

      Good Rapine, stab him; he’s a ravisher.

      Go thou with them; and in the emperor’s court

      There is a queen, attended by a Moor;

      Well mayst thou know her by thy own proportion,

      for up and down she doth resemble thee:

      I pray thee, do on them some violent death;

      They have been violent to me and mine.

      Tamora

      Well hast thou lesson’d us; this shall we do.

      But would it please thee, good Andronicus,

      To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,

      Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,

      And bid him come and banquet at thy house;

      When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,

      I will bring in the empress and her sons,

      The emperor himself and all thy foes;

      And at thy mercy shalt they stoop and kneel,

      And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.

      What says Andronicus to this device?

      Titus Andronicus

      Marcus, my brother! ’tis sad Titus calls.

      Enter Marcus

      Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;

      Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths:

      Bid him repair to me, and bring with him

      Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths;

      Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are:

      Tell him the emperor and the empress too

      Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.

      This do thou for my love; and so let him,

      As he regards his aged father’s life.

      Marcus Andronicus

      This will I do, and soon return again.

      Exit

      Tamora

      Now will I hence about thy business,

      And take my ministers along with me.

      Titus Andronicus

      Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me;

      Or else I’ll call my brother back again,

      And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

      Tamora

      [Aside to her sons] What say you, boys? will you bide with him,

      Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor

      How I have govern’d our determined jes
    t?

      Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,

      And tarry with him till I turn again.

      Titus Andronicus

      [Aside] I know them all, though they suppose me mad,

      And will o’erreach them in their own devices:

      A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam!

      Demetrius

      Madam, depart at pleasure; leave us here.

      Tamora

      Farewell, Andronicus: Revenge now goes

      To lay a complot to betray thy foes.

      Titus Andronicus

      I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.

      Exit Tamora

      Chiron

      Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ’d?

      Titus Andronicus

      Tut, I have work enough for you to do.

      Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine!

      Enter Publius and others

      Publius

      What is your will?

      Titus Andronicus

      Know you these two?

      Publius

      The empress’ sons, I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.

      Titus Andronicus

      Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceived;

      The one is Murder, Rape is the other’s name;

      And therefore bind them, gentle Publius.

      Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them.

      Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,

      And now I find it; therefore bind them sure,

      And stop their mouths, if they begin to cry.

      Exit

      Publius, & c. lay hold on Chiron and Demetrius

      Chiron

      Villains, forbear! we are the empress’ sons.

      Publius

      And therefore do we what we are commanded.

      Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a word.

      Is he sure bound? look that you bind them fast.

      Re-enter Titus, with Lavinia; he bearing a knife, and she a basin

      Titus Andronicus

      Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound.

      Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me;

      But let them hear what fearful words I utter.

      O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!

      Here stands the spring whom you have stain’d with mud,

      This goodly summer with your winter mix’d.

      You kill’d her husband, and for that vile fault

      Two of her brothers were condemn’d to death,

      My hand cut off and made a merry jest;

      Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear

      Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,

      Inhuman traitors, you constrain’d and forced.

      What would you say, if I should let you speak?

      Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.

      Hark, wretches! how I mean to martyr you.

      This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,

      Whilst that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold

      The basin that receives your guilty blood.

      You know your mother means to feast with me,

     


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