Read Titus Andronicus & Timon of Athens Online

Authors: William Shakespeare

Titus Andronicus & Timon of Athens (9 page)

Clings to Tamora

LAVINIA
    O Tamora, be called a gentle queen,

And with thine own hands kill me in this place,

For ’tis not life that I have begged so long:

Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.

TAMORA
    What begg’st thou, then?
Fond
172
woman, let me go.

LAVINIA
    ’Tis
present
173
death I beg, and one thing more

That
womanhood
denies
174
my tongue to tell:

O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust,

And
tumble
176
me into some loathsome pit

Where never man’s eye may behold my body.

Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

TAMORA
    So should I rob my sweet sons of their
fee.
179

No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.

To Lavinia

DEMETRIUS
    Away, for thou hast
stayed
181
us here too long.

LAVINIA
    No grace? No womanhood? Ah, beastly creature,

The blot and enemy to
our general name,
183

Confusion
184
fall—

Grabs her

CHIRON
    Nay, then I’ll stop your mouth.—

To Demetrius

Bring thou her husband:

This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.

[
Demetrius throws Bassianus’ body into the pit, he and Chiron then
exeunt, dragging off Lavinia
]

TAMORA
    Farewell, my sons: see that you
make her sure.
187

Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,

Till all the
Andronici
be
made away.
189

Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,

And let my
spleenful
sons this
trull
191
deflower.

Exit

Enter Aaron with two of Titus’ sons
[
Quintus and Martius
]

AARON
    Come on, my lords, the
better foot before:
192

Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit

Where I espied the panther fast asleep.

QUINTUS
    My sight is very
dull
195
, whate’er it bodes.

MARTIUS
    And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame,

Falls into the pit

Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.

QUINTUS
    What art thou fallen? What
subtle
198
hole is this,

Whose mouth is covered with
rude-growing
199
briers

Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood

As fresh as morning’s dew distilled on flowers?

A very fatal place it seems to me.

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

Martius speaks from below

MARTIUS
    O brother, with the dismall’st
object
204
hurt

That ever eye with sight made heart lament!

Aside

AARON
    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 Aaron

MARTIUS
    Why dost not comfort me and help me out

From this
unhallowed
210
and blood-stainèd hole?

QUINTUS
    I am
surprisèd
with an
uncouth
211
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
compassionate
217
heart

Will not permit mine eyes once to behold

The thing whereat it trembles
by surmise.
219

O, tell me how it is, for ne’er till now

Was I a child to fear I know not what.

MARTIUS
    Lord Bassianus lies
embrewèd
222
here

All
on a heap
223
, like to the slaughtered lamb,

In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.

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

MARTIUS
    Upon his bloody finger he doth wear

A precious
ring, that lightens all the hole,
227

Which like a taper in some
monument
228

Doth shine upon the dead man’s
earthly
229
cheeks

And shows the ragged entrails of the pit:

So pale did shine the moon on
Pyramus
231

When he by night lay bathed in
maiden blood.
232

O brother, help me with thy fainting hand —

If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath —

Out of this
fell
235
devouring receptacle,

As hateful as
Cocytus
236
’ misty mouth.

Reaches into the pit

QUINTUS
    Reach me thy hand that I may help thee out

Or,
wanting
238
strength to do thee so much good,

I may be plucked into the swallowing
womb
239

Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ 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.

Both fall in

Enter the Emperor, Aaron the Moor
[
and Attendants
]

SATURNINUS
    Along with me: I’ll see what hole is here,

And what he is that now is leapt into it.—

Speaks into the pit

Say who art thou that lately didst descend

Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

MARTIUS
    The unhappy son of old Andronicus,

Brought hither in a most unlucky hour

To find thy brother Bassianus 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 him there.

MARTIUS
    We know not where you left him all alive,

But,
out alas
258
, here have we found him dead.

Enter Tamora
[
with Attendants
,]
Andronicus and Lucius

TAMORA
    Where is my lord the king?

SATURNINUS
    Here, Tamora, though
gride
260
with killing grief.

TAMORA
    Where is thy brother Bassianus?

SATURNINUS
    Now to the bottom dost thou
search
262
my wound:

Poor Bassianus here lies murderèd.

TAMORA
    Then all too late I bring this fatal
writ,
264

The
complot
of this
timeless
265
tragedy,

And wonder greatly that man’s face can
fold
266

In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.

She giveth Saturnine a letter

Saturninus reads the letter

SATURNINUS
    ‘An if we miss to meet him
handsomely
268

Sweet huntsman — Bassianus ’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
272

Which overshades the mouth of that same pit

Where we
decreed
274
to bury Bassianus.

Do this, and
purchase
275
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
279
have murdered Bassianus here.

Finds the bag

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

To Titus

SATURNINUS
    Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody
kind,
281

Have here bereft my brother of his life.—

Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison:

There let them bide until we have devised

Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

↓Attendants may pull Quintus and Martius from the pit↓

TAMORA
    What, are they in this pit? O
wondrous
286
thing!

How easily murder is discoverèd.

Kneels

TITUS
    High emperor, upon my feeble knee

I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed,

That this fell fault of my accursèd sons,

Accursèd if the faults be proved in them—

SATURNINUS
    If it be proved? You see it is
apparent.
292

Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?

TAMORA
    Andronicus himself did take it up.

TITUS
    I did, my lord. Yet let me be their bail,

For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow

They shall be ready at your highness’ will

To answer
their suspicion
298
with their lives.

SATURNINUS
    Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me.—

↓Titus rises↓

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
305
thy sons, they shall do well enough.

TITUS
    Come, Lucius, come. Stay not to talk with them.

Exeunt

[Act 2 Scene 4]

running scene 3 continues

Enter the Empress’ sons
[
Demetrius and Chiron
]
with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and
ravished

DEMETRIUS
    So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,

Who ’twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.

CHIRON
    Write down thy mind,
bewray
3
thy meaning so,

An if thy stumps will let thee, play the scribe.

DEMETRIUS
    See how with signs and tokens she can
scrawl.
5

CHIRON
    Go home, call for
sweet water
6
, 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
9
, I should go hang myself.

DEMETRIUS
    If thou hadst hands to help thee
knit
10
the cord.

Exeunt
[
Chiron and Demetrius
]

Wind horns. Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia

Lavinia runs away

MARCUS
    Who is this? My niece that flies away so fast!

Lavinia turns back

Cousin
12
, a word: where is your husband?

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

If I do wake, some planet
strike
14
me down

That I may slumber in eternal sleep.

Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands

Have lopped and hewed and made thy body bare

Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,

Whose
circling shadows
19
kings have sought to sleep in,

And might not gain so great a happiness

As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?

Lavinia opens her mouth

Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,

Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind,

Doth rise and fall between thy rosèd lips,

Coming and going with thy honey breath.

But sure some
Tereus
26
hath deflowered thee

And, lest thou shouldst
detect
27
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
30
with three issuing spouts,

Yet do thy cheeks look red as
Titan’s
31
face

Blushing to be encountered 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
35
him, to ease my mind.

Sorrow concealèd, like an oven
stopped,
36

Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.

Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,

And in a
tedious
sampler
39
sewed her mind.

But, lovely niece, that
mean
40
is cut from thee:

A craftier Tereus hast thou met withal,

And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,

That could have better sewed 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 touched them for his life.

Or had he heard the heavenly harmony

Which that sweet tongue hath made,

He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep,

As
Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet.
51

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:
54

What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes?

Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee.

O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

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