Titus Andronicus - Act 3, scene 1
Download Titus Andronicus
Last updated: Fri, Jul 31, 2015
- PDF Download as PDF
- DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) without line numbers Download as DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) without line numbers
- DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) with line numbers Download as DOC (for MS Word, Apple Pages, Open Office, etc.) with line numbers
- HTML Download as HTML
- TXT Download as TXT
- XML Download as XML
- TEISimple XML (annotated with MorphAdorner for part-of-speech analysis) Download as TEISimple XML (annotated with MorphAdorner for part-of-speech analysis)
Act 3, scene 1
Martius and Quintus are led off to execution. Aaron says their lives can be saved if Titus, Lucius, or Marcus cuts off a hand and sends it as ransom. Titus sends his hand, and a messenger returns the hand and the heads of Martius and Quintus. Titus vows revenge, telling the exiled Lucius to raise an army of Goths to march on Rome.Enter the Judges and Senators with Titus’ two sons
(⌜Quintus and Martius⌝) bound, passing on the stage to
the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading.
1042 Hear me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, stay.
1043 For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
1044 In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept;
1045 For all my blood in Rome’s great quarrel shed,
1046 5 For all the frosty nights that I have watched,
1047 And for these bitter tears which now you see,
1048 Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks,
1049 Be pitiful to my condemnèd sons,
1050 Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought.
1051 10 For two-and-twenty sons I never wept
1052 Because they died in honor’s lofty bed.
Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him.
⌜They exit with the prisoners as Titus continues speaking.⌝
1053 For these, tribunes, in the dust I write
1054 My heart’s deep languor and my soul’s sad tears.
1055 Let my tears stanch the earth’s dry appetite.
1056 15 My sons’ sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
1057 O Earth, I will befriend thee more with rain
1058 That shall distil from these two ancient ruins
1059 Than youthful April shall with all his showers.
1061 20 In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow
1062 And keep eternal springtime on thy face,
1063 So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood.
Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn.
1064 O reverend tribunes, O gentle agèd men,
1065 Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death,
1066 25 And let me say, that never wept before,
1067 My tears are now prevailing orators.
1068 O noble father, you lament in vain.
1069 The Tribunes hear you not; no man is by,
1070 And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
1071 30 Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.—
1072 Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you—
1073 My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
1074 Why, ’tis no matter, man. If they did hear,
1075 They would not mark me; if they did mark,
1076 35 They would not pity me. Yet plead I must,
1077 And bootless unto them.
1078 Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones,
1079 Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
1080 Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes,
1081 40 For that they will not intercept my tale.
1082 When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
1083 Receive my tears and seem to weep with me,
1084 And were they but attirèd in grave weeds,
1085 Rome could afford no tribunes like to these.
1086 45 A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than
1088 A stone is silent and offendeth not,
1089 And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
1090 But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn?
1091 50 To rescue my two brothers from their death,
1092 For which attempt the Judges have pronounced
1093 My everlasting doom of banishment.
1094 O happy man, they have befriended thee!
1095 Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
1096 55 That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
1097 Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
1098 But me and mine. How happy art thou then
1099 From these devourers to be banishèd.
1100 But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
Enter Marcus with Lavinia.
1101 60 Titus, prepare thy agèd eyes to weep,
1102 Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break.
1103 I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
1104 Will it consume me? Let me see it, then.
1105 This was thy daughter.
TITUS 1106 65 Why, Marcus, so she is.
LUCIUS 1107 Ay me, this object kills me!
1108 Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.—
1109 Speak, Lavinia. What accursèd hand
1110 Hath made thee handless in thy father’s sight?
1111 70 What fool hath added water to the sea
1112 Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
1113 My grief was at the height before thou cam’st,
1114 And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.—
1115 Give me a sword. I’ll chop off my hands too,
1116 75 For they have fought for Rome and all in vain;
1117 And they have nursed this woe in feeding life;
1119 And they have served me to effectless use.
1120 Now all the service I require of them
1121 80 Is that the one will help to cut the other.—
1122 ’Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands,
1123 For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
1124 Speak, gentle sister. Who hath martyred thee?
1125 O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
1126 85 That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence,
1127 Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage
1128 Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
1129 Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear.
1130 O, say thou for her who hath done this deed!
1131 90 O, thus I found her straying in the park,
1132 Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
1133 That hath received some unrecuring wound.
1134 It was my dear, and he that wounded her
1135 Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead.
1136 95 For now I stand as one upon a rock,
1137 Environed with a wilderness of sea,
1138 Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
1139 Expecting ever when some envious surge
1140 Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
1141 100 This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
1142 Here stands my other son a banished man,
1143 And here my brother, weeping at my woes.
1144 But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn
1145 Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
1146 105 Had I but seen thy picture in this plight
1147 It would have madded me. What shall I do,
1148 Now I behold thy lively body so?
1150 Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee.
1151 110 Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
1152 Thy brothers are condemned, and dead by this.—
1153 Look, Marcus!—Ah, son Lucius, look on her!
1154 When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
1155 Stood on her cheeks as doth the honeydew
1156 115 Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
1157 Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband,
1158 Perchance because she knows them innocent.
1159 If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
1160 Because the law hath ta’en revenge on them.—
1161 120 No, no, they would not do so foul a deed.
1162 Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.—
1163 Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips,
1164 Or make some sign how I may do thee ease.
1165 Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius
1166 125 And thou and I sit round about some fountain,
1167 Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks,
1168 How they are stained like meadows yet not dry
1169 With miry slime left on them by a flood?
1170 And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
1171 130 Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness
1172 And made a brine pit with our bitter tears?
1173 Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
1174 Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows
1175 Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
1176 135 What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues
1177 Plot some device of further misery
1178 To make us wondered at in time to come.
1179 Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief
1180 See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
1181 140 Patience, dear niece.—Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
1182 Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot
1183 Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
1184 For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
1185 Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
1186 145 Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs.
1187 Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
1188 That to her brother which I said to thee.
1189 His napkin, with ⌜his⌝ true tears all bewet,
1190 Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
1191 150 O, what a sympathy of woe is this,
1192 As far from help as limbo is from bliss.
Enter Aaron the Moor alone.
1193 Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor
1194 Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons,
1195 Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
1196 155 Or any one of you, chop off your hand
1197 And send it to the King; he for the same
1198 Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
1199 And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
1200 O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!
1201 160 Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
1202 That gives sweet tidings of the sun’s uprise?
1203 With all my heart I’ll send the Emperor my hand.
1204 Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
1205 Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine,
1206 165 That hath thrown down so many enemies,
1207 Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn.
1209 And therefore mine shall save my brothers’ lives.
1210 Which of your hands hath not defended Rome
1211 170 And reared aloft the bloody battleax,
1212 Writing destruction on the enemy’s castle?
1213 O, none of both but are of high desert.
1214 My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
1215 To ransom my two nephews from their death.
1216 175 Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
1217 Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
1218 For fear they die before their pardon come.
1219 My hand shall go.
LUCIUS 1220 By heaven, it shall not go!
1221 180 Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these
1222 Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
1223 Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
1224 Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
1225 And for our father’s sake and mother’s care,
1226 185 Now let me show a brother’s love to thee.
1227 Agree between you. I will spare my hand.
LUCIUS 1228 Then I’ll go fetch an ax.
MARCUS 1229 But I will use the ax.⌜Lucius and Marcus⌝ exit.
1230 Come hither, Aaron. I’ll deceive them both.
1231 190 Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
1232 If that be called deceit, I will be honest
1233 And never whilst I live deceive men so.
1235 And that you’ll say ere half an hour pass.
He cuts off Titus’ hand.
Enter Lucius and Marcus again.
1236 195 Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched.—
1237 Good Aaron, give his Majesty my hand.
1238 Tell him it was a hand that warded him
1239 From thousand dangers. Bid him bury it.
1240 More hath it merited; that let it have.
1241 200 As for my sons, say I account of them
1242 As jewels purchased at an easy price,
1243 And yet dear, too, because I bought mine own.
1244 I go, Andronicus, and for thy hand
1245 Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
1246 205 ⌜Aside.⌝ Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy
1247 Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
1248 Let fools do good and fair men call for grace;
1249 Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
1250 O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
1251 210 And bow this feeble ruin to the earth.⌜He kneels.⌝
1252 If any power pities wretched tears,
1253 To that I call. (⌜Lavinia kneels.⌝) What, wouldst thou
1254 kneel with me?
1255 Do, then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our
1256 215 prayers,
1257 Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim
1258 And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
1259 When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
1260 O brother, speak with possibility,
1261 220 And do not break into these deep extremes.
1262 Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
1263 Then be my passions bottomless with them.
1264 But yet let reason govern thy lament.
1265 If there were reason for these miseries,
1266 225 Then into limits could I bind my woes.
1267 When heaven doth weep, doth not the Earth o’erflow?
1268 If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
1269 Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoll’n face?
1270 And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
1271 230 I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth flow!
1272 She is the weeping welkin, I the Earth.
1273 Then must my sea be movèd with her sighs;
1274 Then must my Earth with her continual tears
1275 Become a deluge, overflowed and drowned,
1276 235 Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes
1277 But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
1278 Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
1279 To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.
1280 Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
1281 240 For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor.
1282 Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
1283 And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back.
1284 Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked,
1285 That woe is me to think upon thy woes
1286 245 More than remembrance of my father’s death.
1287 Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily,
1288 And be my heart an everburning hell!
1290 To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
1291 250 But sorrow flouted at is double death.
1292 Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound
1293 And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
1294 That ever death should let life bear his name,
1295 Where life hath no more interest but to breathe.
⌜Lavinia kisses Titus.⌝
1296 255 Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
1297 As frozen water to a starvèd snake.
1298 When will this fearful slumber have an end?
1299 Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus.
1300 Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
1301 260 Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
1302 Thy other banished son with this dear sight
1303 Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
1304 Even like a stony image cold and numb.
1305 Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs.
1306 265 Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand,
1307 Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
1308 The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
1309 Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
TITUS 1310 Ha, ha, ha!
1311 270 Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
⌜Titus and Lavinia rise.⌝
1312 Why, I have not another tear to shed.
1313 Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
1314 And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
1315 And make them blind with tributary tears.
1317 For these two heads do seem to speak to me
1318 And threat me I shall never come to bliss
1319 Till all these mischiefs be returned again
1320 Even in their throats that hath committed them.
1321 280 Come, let me see what task I have to do.
1322 You heavy people, circle me about
1323 That I may turn me to each one of you
1324 And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
1325 The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
1326 285 And in this hand the other will I bear.—
1327 And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms.
1328 Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
1330 As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight.
1331 290 Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
1332 Hie to the Goths and raise an army there.
1333 And if you love me, as I think you do,
1334 Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do.
All ⟨but Lucius⟩ exit.
1335 Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
1336 295 The woefull’st man that ever lived in Rome.
1337 Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again.
1338 He loves his pledges dearer than his life.
1339 Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister.
1340 O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
1341 300 But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
1342 But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
1343 If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs
1344 And make proud Saturnine and his empress
1345 Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen.
1346 305 Now will I to the Goths and raise a power
1347 To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.