Shakespeare's First Folio Part 491

Enter.

t.i.t. Come Marcus let vs goe, Publius follow me.

Exeunt.

Enter Emperour and Empresse, and her two sonnes, the Emperour brings the Arrowes in his hand that t.i.tus shot at him.

Satur. Why Lords, What wrongs are these? was euer seene An Emperour in Rome thus ouerborne, Troubled, Confronted thus, and for the extent Of egall iustice, vs'd in such contempt?

My Lords, you know the mightfull G.o.ds, (How euer these disturbers of our peace Buz in the peoples eares) there nought hath past, But euen with law against the willfull Sonnes Of old Andronicus. And what and if His sorrowes haue so ouerwhelm'd his wits, Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreakes, His fits, his frenzie, and his bitternesse?

And now he writes to heauen for his redresse.

See, heeres to Ioue, and this to Mercury, This to Apollo, this to the G.o.d of warre: Sweet scrowles to flie about the streets of Rome: What's this but Libelling against the Senate, And blazoning our Iniustice euery where?

A goodly humour, is it not my Lords?

As who would say, in Rome no Iustice were.

But if I liue, his fained extasies Shall be no shelter to these outrages: But he and his shall know, that Iustice liues In Saturninus health; whom if he sleepe, Hee'l so awake, as he in fury shall Cut off the proud'st Conspirator that liues

Tamo. My gracious Lord, my louely Saturnine, Lord of my life, Commander of my thoughts, Calme thee, and beare the faults of t.i.tus age, Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant Sonnes, Whose losse hath pier'st him deepe, and scar'd his heart; And rather comfort his distressed plight, Then prosecute the meanest or the best For these contempts. Why thus it shall become High witted Tamora to glose with all:

Aside.

But t.i.tus, I haue touch'd thee to the quicke, Thy life blood out: If Aaron now be wise, Then is all safe, the Anchor's in the Port.

Enter Clowne.

How now good fellow, would'st thou speake with vs?

Clow. Yea forsooth, and your Mistership be Emperiall

Tam. Empresse I am, but yonder sits the Emperour

Clo. 'Tis he; G.o.d & Saint Stephen giue you good den; I haue brought you a Letter, & a couple of Pigions heere.

He reads the Letter.

Satu. Goe take him away, and hang him presently

Clowne. How much money must I haue?

Tam. Come sirrah you must be hang'd

Clow. Hang'd? ber Lady, then I haue brought vp a neck to a faire end.

Enter.

Satu. Despightfull and intollerable wrongs, Shall I endure this monstrous villany?

I know from whence this same deuise proceedes: May this be borne? As if his traytrous Sonnes, That dy'd by law for murther of our Brother, Haue by my meanes beene butcher'd wrongfully?

Goe dragge the villaine hither by the haire, Nor Age, nor Honour, shall shape priuiledge: For this proud mocke, Ile be thy slaughter man: Sly franticke wretch, that holp'st to make me great, In hope thy selfe should gouerne Rome and me.

Enter Nuntius Emillius.

Satur. What newes with thee Emillius?

Emil. Arme my Lords, Rome neuer had more cause, The Gothes haue gather'd head, and with a power Of high resolued men, bent to the spoyle They hither march amaine, vnder conduct Of Lucius, Sonne to old Andronicus: Who threats in course of this reuenge to do As much as euer Coriola.n.u.s did

King. Is warlike Lucius Generall of the Gothes?

These tydings nip me, and I hang the head As flowers with frost, or gra.s.se beat downe with stormes: I, now begins our sorrowes to approach, 'Tis he the common people loue so much, My selfe hath often heard them say, (When I haue walked like a priuate man) That Lucius banishment was wrongfully, And they haue wisht that Lucius were their Emperour

Tam. Why should you feare? Is not our City strong?

King. I, but the Cittizens fauour Lucius, And will reuolt from me, to succour him

Tam. King, be thy thoughts Imperious like thy name.

Is the Sunne dim'd, that Gnats do flie in it?

The Eagle suffers little Birds to sing, And is not carefull what they meane thereby, Knowing that with the shadow of his wings, He can at pleasure stint their melodie.

Euen so mayest thou, the giddy men of Rome, Then cheare thy spirit, for know thou Emperour, I will enchaunt the old Andronicus, With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous Then baites to fish, or hony stalkes to sheepe, When as the one is wounded with the baite, The other rotted with delicious foode

King. But he will not entreat his Sonne for vs

Tam. If Tamora entreat him, then he will, For I can smooth and fill his aged eare, With golden promises, that were his heart Almost Impregnable, his old eares deafe, Yet should both eare and heart, obey my tongue.

Goe thou before to our Emba.s.sadour, Say, that the Emperour requests a parly Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting

King. Emillius do this message Honourably, And if he stand in Hostage for his safety, Bid him demaund what pledge will please him best

Emill. Your bidding shall I do effectually.

Enter.

Tam. Now will I to that old Andronicus, And temper him with all the Art I haue, To plucke proud Lucius from the warlike Gothes.

And now sweet Emperour be blithe againe, And bury all thy feare in my deuises

Satu. Then goe successantly and plead for him.

Enter.

Actus Quintus.

Flourish. Enter Lucius with an Army of Gothes, with Drum and Souldiers.

Luci. Approued warriours, and my faithfull Friends, I haue receiued Letters from great Rome, Which signifies what hate they beare their Emperour, And how desirous of our sight they are.

Therefore great Lords, be as your t.i.tles witnesse, Imperious and impatient of your wrongs, And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe, Let him make treble satisfaction

Goth. Braue slip, sprung from the Great Andronicus, Whose name was once our terrour, now our comfort, Whose high exploits, and honourable Deeds, Ingratefull Rome requites with foule contempt: Behold in vs, weele follow where thou lead'st, Like stinging Bees in hottest Sommers day, Led by their Maister to the flowred fields, And be aueng'd on cursed Tamora: And as he saith, so say we all with him

Luci. I humbly thanke him, and I thanke you all.

But who comes heere, led by a l.u.s.ty Goth?

Enter a Goth leading of Aaron with his child in his armes.

Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troups I straid, To gaze vpon a ruinous Monasterie, And as I earnestly did fixe mine eye Vpon the wasted building, suddainely I heard a childe cry vnderneath a wall: I made vnto the noyse, when soone I heard, The crying babe control'd with this discourse: Peace Tawny slaue, halfe me, and halfe thy Dam, Did not thy Hue bewray whose brat thou art?

Had nature lent thee, but thy Mothers looke, Villaine thou might'st haue bene an Emperour.

But where the Bull and Cow are both milk-white, They neuer do beget a cole-blacke-Calfe: Peace, villaine peace, euen thus he rates the babe, For I must beare thee to a trusty Goth, Who when he knowes thou art the Empresse babe, Will hold thee dearely for thy Mothers sake.

With this, my weapon drawne I rusht vpon him, Surpriz'd him suddainely, and brought him hither To vse, as you thinke needefull of the man

Luci. Oh worthy Goth, this is the incarnate deuill, That rob'd Andronicus of his good hand: This is the Pearle that pleas'd your Empresse eye, And heere's the Base Fruit of his burning l.u.s.t.

Say wall-ey'd slaue, whether would'st thou conuay This growing Image of thy fiend-like face?

Why dost not speake? what deafe? Not a word?

A halter Souldiers, hang him on this Tree, And by his side his Fruite of b.a.s.t.a.r.die

Aron. Touch not the Boy, he is of Royall blood