Titus Andronicus & Timon of Athens (5 page)

TITUS
    Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning
weeds!
⁷⁰

Lo, as the
bark
⁷¹
that hath discharged his freight

Returns with precious
lading
⁷²
to the bay

From whence at first she weighed her
anchorage,
⁷³

Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,

To resalute his country with his tears,

Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

Thou
⁷⁷
great defender of this Capitol,

Stand gracious to
⁷⁸
the rites that we intend.

Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,

Half of the number that
King Priam
⁸⁰
had,

Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!

These that survive, let Rome reward with love:

These that I bring unto their
latest
⁸³
home,

With
⁸⁴
burial amongst their ancestors.

Here Goths have
given me leave
⁸⁵
to sheathe my sword.

Titus,
unkind
and
careless
⁸⁶
of thine own,

Why suffer’st thou thy sons unburied yet

To hover on the dreadful shore of
Styx?
⁸⁸

Make way to lay them by their brethren.

There greet in silence, as the dead are
wont,
⁹⁰

And sleep in peace, slain in your country’s wars.

O sacred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet
cell
⁹³
of virtue and nobility,

How many sons of mine hast thou in store,

That thou wilt never render to me
more!
⁹⁵

LUCIUS
    Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,

That we may
hew
⁹⁷
his limbs, and on a pile

Ad manus fratrum
⁹⁸
sacrifice his flesh

Before this earthly prison of their bones,

That so
the
shadows
¹⁰⁰
be not unappeased,

Nor we disturbed with
prodigies
¹⁰¹
on earth.

TITUS
    I give him you, the noblest that survives,

The eldest son of this distressèd queen.

TAMORA
    Stay, Roman brethren,
gracious
¹⁰⁴
conqueror,

Victorious Titus,
rue
¹⁰⁵
the tears I shed,

A mother’s tears in
passion
¹⁰⁶
for her son:

And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,

O, think my sons to be as dear to me.

Sufficeth not
¹⁰⁹
that we are brought to Rome

To beautify thy
triumphs
¹¹⁰
and return,

Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke?

But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets

For valiant doings in their country’s cause?

O, if to fight for king and commonweal

Were piety in thine, it is in these.

Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

Draw near them then in being merciful:

Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

TITUS
    
Patient
¹²¹
yourself, madam, and pardon me.

These are the brethren whom you Goths beheld

Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain

Religiously they ask a sacrifice:

To this your son is marked, and die he must,

To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

LUCIUS
    Away with him, and make a fire
straight,
¹²⁷

And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,

Let’s hew his limbs till they be
clean
¹²⁹
consumed.

TAMORA
    O cruel, irreligious piety!

CHIRON
    Was ever
Scythia
¹³¹
half so barbarous?

DEMETRIUS
    
Oppose
¹³²
not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

Alarbus goes to rest and we survive

To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning looks.

Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope
withal
¹³⁵

The self-same gods that armed the
Queen of Troy
¹³⁶

With opportunity of
sharp
¹³⁷
revenge

Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent

May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths —

When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen —

To
quit
¹⁴¹
the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

LUCIUS
    See, lord and father, how we have performed

Our Roman rites: Alarbus’ limbs are lopped,

And
entrails
¹⁴⁴
feed the sacrificing fire,

Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.

Remaineth nought but to inter our brethren

And with loud
’larums
¹⁴⁷
welcome them to Rome.

TITUS
    Let it be so, and let Andronicus

Make this his
latest
¹⁴⁹
farewell to their souls.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons:

Rome’s readiest champions, repose you here in rest,

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.

Here lurks no treason, here no
envy
¹⁵³
swells,

Here grow no damnèd grudges, here are no storms,

No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons.

LAVINIA
    In peace and honour live Lord Titus long:

My noble lord and father, live in
fame!
¹⁵⁸

Lo, at this tomb my
tributary
¹⁵⁹
tears

I render for my brethren’s
obsequies,
¹⁶⁰

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 fortune Rome’s best citizens applaud.

TITUS
    Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved

The
cordial
¹⁶⁶
of mine age to glad my heart.

Lavinia, live, outlive thy father’s days

And fame’s eternal date, for virtue’s praise.
¹⁶⁸

MARCUS
    Long live Lord Titus, my belovèd brother,

Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

TITUS
    Thanks,
gentle
¹⁷¹
tribune, noble brother Marcus.

MARCUS
    And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

Fair lords,
your fortunes are alike in all,
¹⁷⁴

That in your country’s service drew your swords:

But safer
triumph
¹⁷⁶
is this funeral pomp

That hath
aspired
to
Solon’s happiness
¹⁷⁷

And triumphs over chance in honour’s
bed.
¹⁷⁸

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

Send thee by me, their
tribune and their trust,
¹⁸¹

This
palliament
¹⁸²
of white and spotless hue,

And name thee in election for the empire

With these our late-deceasèd emperor’s sons:

Be
candidatus
¹⁸⁵
then and put it on,

And help to set a head on headless Rome.

TITUS
    A better head her glorious body
fits
¹⁸⁷

Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

What, should I don this robe and trouble you?

Be chosen with proclamations today,

Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life

And
set abroad
¹⁹²
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
¹⁹⁷
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.

MARCUS
    Titus, thou shalt
obtain and ask
²⁰¹
the empery.

SATURNINUS
    Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?

TITUS
    Patience, Prince Saturninus—

SATURNINUS
                             Romans, do me right.

Patricians, draw your swords and sheathe them not

Till Saturninus be Rome’s emperor.

Andronicus,
would
²⁰⁶
thou wert shipped to hell,

Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts.

LUCIUS
    Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee.

TITUS
    Content thee, prince, I will restore to thee

The people’s hearts, and
wean them from themselves.
²¹¹

BASSIANUS
    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.
²¹⁶

TITUS
    People of Rome, and noble tribunes here,

I ask your
voices and your suffrages,
²¹⁸

Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

TRIBUNES
    To gratify the good Andronicus

And
gratulate
²²¹
his safe return to Rome,

The people will accept whom he
admits.
²²²

TITUS
    Tribunes, I thank you, and this
suit
²²³
I make,

That you
create
²²⁴
our emperor’s eldest son,

Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope,

Reflect on Rome as
Titan’s
²²⁶
rays on earth,

And ripen justice in this commonweal:

Then if you will elect by my advice,

Crown him and say, ‘Long live our emperor!’

MARCUS
    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!’

SATURNINUS
    Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done

To us in our election this day,

I give thee thanks
in part of thy deserts,
²³⁶

And will with deeds requite thy
gentleness:
²³⁷

And, for
an onset,
²³⁸
Titus, to advance

Thy name and honourable family,

Lavinia will I make my emperess,

Rome’s royal mistress, mistress of my heart,

And in the sacred
Pantheon
²⁴²
her espouse:

Tell me, Andronicus, doth this
motion
²⁴³
please thee?

TITUS
    It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match

I
hold me
highly honoured
of
²⁴⁵
your grace,

And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,

King and commander of our commonweal,

The wide world’s emperor, do I consecrate

My sword, my chariot and my prisoners,

Presents well worthy Rome’s imperial lord:

Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,

Mine honour’s
ensigns
²⁵²
humbled at thy feet.

SATURNINUS
    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
²⁵⁶
deserts,

Romans forget your
fealty
²⁵⁷
to me.