Titus Andronicus, OR THE Rape of Lavinia.  
Acted at the Theatre Royal, A TRAGEDY, Altered from Mr SHAKESPEARS Works, By Mr. Edw. Ravenscroft.  
Licenced,  
Dec. 21. 1686. R. L. S.  
LONDON, Printed by J. B. for J. Hindmarsh, at the Golden-Ball in Cornhill, over against the Royal-Exchange. 1687.   

The Persons Names.  

ROMANS.  
Saturninus, Sons of the Deceased Emperor.  
Bassianus,  
Titus Andronicus, An Old Roman General.  
Marcus Andronicus, A Tribune, Brother to Titus.  
Emillius, A Tribune.  
Lucius, The Sons of Titus. Mutius, Martius', Quintus,  
Junius, Son of Lucius, a Child.  
Lavinia, Daughter of Titus.  
A Roman Captain, Other Captain's, Senator's, Tribunes, Plebeians, and Guards. A Dead Son of Titus.   

GOTHS.  
Tamora, Queen of Goths.  
Alarbus, 

A Mute.  
The Queen's Sons.   Chiron, Demetrius,  
Aron, A Moor in favour with Tamora, and her General.  
A Goth, A Common Soldier.  
His Wife,  
A Blackamoor Infant.   
All brought Captives to Rome by Titus.  The Scene ROME.  

TO THE READER.  READER, 
I Think it a greater theft to Rob the dead of their Praise then the Living of their Money: That I may not appear Guilty of such a Crime, 'tis necessary I should acquaint you, that there is a Play in Mr. Shakespears Volume under the name of Titus Andronicus, from whence I drew part of this. I have been told by some anciently conversant with the Stage, that it was not Originally his, but brought by a private Author to be Acted, and he only gave some Master-touches to one or two of the Principal Parts or Characters; this I am apt to believe, because 'tis the most incorrect and indigested piece in all his Works; It seems rather a heap of Rubbish than a Structure.— However as if some great Building had been designed, in the removal we found many Large and Square Stones both useful and Ornamental to the Fabric, as new Modelled: Compare the Old Play with this, you'll find that none in all that Authors Works ever received greater Alterations or Additions, the Language not only refined, but many Scenes entirely New: Besides most of the principal Characters heightened, and the Plot much increased. The Success answered the Labour, tho' it first appeared upon the Stage, at the beginning of the pretended Popish Plot, when neither Wit nor Honesty had Encouragement: Nor could this expect favour since it showed the Treachery of Villains, and the Mischiefs carried on by Perjury, and False Evidence; and how Rogues may frame a Plot that shall deceive and destroy both the Honest and the Wise; which were the reasons why I did forward it at so unlucky a conjuncture, being content rather to lose the Profit, than not expose to the World the Picture of such Knaves and Rascals as then Reigned in the opinion of the Foolish and Malicious part of the Nation: but it bore up against the Faction, and is confirmed a Stock-Play. In the Hurry of those distracted times the Prologue and Epilogue were lost: But to let the Buyer have his pennyworths, I furnish you with others which were Written by me to other Persons Labours, two of 'em were proportioned to that Mad Season; For when Ill Manners and Ill Principles Reign in a State, it is the business of the Stage, as well as Pulpits, to declaim and Instruct: That was my design when I Writ, and now Print 'em that the Purchaser may not Repine at the Author or Bookseller for a hard Bargain.  
Adieu.   

PROLOGUE, Spoken in Lent.  
GAllants, in this good Godly Time of Lent.  
I am come forth to bid you all repent.  
You Sparks I see have got a Pious Notion,  
You put on Black to show your great Devotion:  
But lest you should mistake what I intent,  
Let me tell you your Faults, and how to mend.  
First, leave to show your Valour in the Pit,  
Leave Railing at Great Men to show your Wit.  
With Vizard-Masques, leave your Lewd Raillery,  
Leave your disturbance in the Middle-Gallery.  
Leave all your, Jests of Bant'ring and Dum-founding,  
Leave always Duelling and never Wounding.  
Leave coming here when you do not intend  
To see the Play, but pick up a she-friend.  
Leave sharping for yourselves, and pay your Guinny  
For Procuration there to honest Jenny.  
Next for the men of Business in the Nation,  
Let them begin a Thorough-Reformation.  
Let 'em leave Faction, Jealousies and Fears,  
Leave setting us together by the Ears.  
Let Corporations leave Petitioning,  
And learn all due Allegiance to the King▪  
Let Politicians too not be so hot,  
To Swear, that a Spring-Tide's a Popish Plot,  
Do not too Eagerly that Scent pursue,  
Lest Hunting an Old Plot you Start a New.  
Leave your provoking Caesar and his Frowns;  
Leave Crossing Birthrights and disposing Crowns.  
Leave England's Ancient Glory so to wrong,  
As naming Princes with irreverent Tongue,  
Tho' Foreigners and Enemies they be,  
Forget not what is due to Majesty.  
Whilst Brutishly Those Titles we profane  
The World does think we are turned Picts again▪  
Consider well, and then you'll be I hope  
So Civilised as scarce to Burn the Pope:  
But if you will go on, make this Addition,  
Burn too the Rump and Westminster-Petition.   

EPILOGUE.  
Swelled Big with Expectation you did come  
To see us Act our great Affairs at home,  
Papists accused and Satyrs against Rome:  
That might have pleased, but still the modest Stage  
Forbears to represent the Present Age.  
Let Foreign Stories matter here supply,  
Old Tales and known, are fit for Tragedy.  
Besides, I think the Business of our Nation,  
Too sad a Theme to pass for Recreation.  
Let us be Mute till the whole Truth comes out,  
Not like the Rabble at Executions, shout.  
Heathens that knew but just Morality,  
Pitied the Guilty when they came to die.  
Barbarians at such sights do show Regret,  
How far are we then from Religion yet?  
Religion teaches mildeness in her Laws,  
Triumph, Suspicion upon justice draws.  
Go then contented hence with what you've seen;  
Fancy you have two hours in Turkey been,  
This was no Popish-Plot, yet English too,  
For to say truth, it was our Plot on you.   

A PROLOGUE, Spoken before the Long Vacation.  
NOw comes Vacation, that dead time of th' Year,  
When nothing but New Plays will bring you here;  
Now for the Country all you little Citts,  
Prepare to gallop down on Smithfield Titts,  
Having run out, you go to make up Cash,  
To Parents dear—  
Equipped with the Heel-Spur and Spatter-dash.  
But you the Graver sort of City-Blades,  
Profit does keep in town to mind your Trades,  
Whilst in Crape-Mantoes decked, and trolly-pinners'  
Your Wives at Epsom slily play the Sinners.  
You go on Saturdays to see your Honeys,  
Are Waggish with 'em, leave 'em Spending-monies,  
But come on Mundays up to Town like Tonies.  
England is blessed the Wells are so in fashion,  
There, Heirs are got for one third pare of th' Nation.  
You Towngallants who wallow in Debauches,  
New Liveries prepare and fine Gilt Coaches.  
And all in Order too to leave the Town,  
Each to his Mansion-House does rattle down;  
Which many hundred years in th' Name has been,  
Where Miss appears as Glorious as a Queen.  
The Country at you does but Laugh and jeer,  
Tho' Tenants flatter you for their good Cheer:  
But Hark ye, who'll keep House there the next Year?  
scriveners and Bankers will have restitution,  
ere that time, comes judgement and Execution.  
Punk trusts in Settlement the Misses jointure,  
But by some quirk in Law they disappoint her.  
The Country Lawyers too jog down apace  
Each with his NOVERINT UNIVERSI Face;  
Rides jabber along some damned Law-Case.  
Young Ladies too attend their Parents down,  
Quit their Intrigues and sigh to leave the Town.  
How innocently there you sit and Chat,  
And Walk the Fields in Bongrace or Straw-Hat,  
Eat Syllybubs, see Reapers mow, such Sport  
Did please you well before you saw the Court.  
But fare ye well.—  
When you are gone, we'll shut the Playhouse door,  
The Bully-Gamster, Bawd and Vnkept Whore,  
Who here remain, will be so very poor,  
They'll Venture their Half-Crowns but the first day,  
And then— To pick up Cullies, not to see the Play.  
All will be Sharpers here, what shall we do,  
To Live? Faith let us be obliged by you.  
Come all and pay your Foyes before you go,  
Else we must troop to Scotland after joh—  
We by the last advice for Certain hear  
That Haynes does head the Rebell-Players there.   

PROLOGUE after the Vacation.  Spoken by Mr. Haines. 
Friend's how have ye done this many a day?  
You longed I warrant you for a New Play:  
And we have wished as much to see you here;  
Well, long Vacation's a damned time o'th' year.  
When to your Country-Houses▪ you were gone  
Some few Pill'd-Garlicks Straggled up and down,  
Who for mere want of Money stayed in Town.  
As for Example, I myself was one.  
Shopkeepers, wanting trade, were off o'th' hooks,  
And all day long sat casting up their books;  
Drew out their Debts, resolving all to Dun,  
As soon as e'er you Gallants came to Town.  
Or else to Fox and Geese with Neighbour go,  
A game resembling much themselves and you.  
And Gamesters, who the rest o'th' year went fine,  
Now looked out sharp, and Cried, come where shall's dine?  
Go to the I'avern, no attendance there,  
Except a Drawer snoring in the Bar.  
No Roaring-Gallant, nor no Punk that Sings,  
The little bell but very seldom Rings.  
No Hurry nor no Noise as heretofore,  
No Crying, Speak t'th' Star, t'th' halfmoon Score.  
The streets are quiet too: All the Debauchees,  
Were Bullys pawning Whores, and bilking Coaches.  
The best on't was, things were not very dear;  
For Whores, 'twas the Cheap'st time of all the year.  
But some whom sad Experience taught to know,  
Their Misery here, lest us to follow you.  
Pawned Rings and Petticoats, hard shift they made,  
In hopes, at Windsor they might force a Trade.  
There Leaguer Lav, I see some half a score  
That plied like Watermen at D'pee's door,  
Bawled out to Passengers, Next Whore,— next Whore.  
But Travelling of Late was much in Fashion,  Some of the Actresses went that year to Holywell. 
Some Pilgrim Saints there were of our Vocation.  
Only they did it a far different way,  
Your Ladies went to sin, but ours, to pray.   


ACT I. SCENE I.  Enter Saturninus and his Followers: Bassianus and his, at another door. With Drums and Trumpets. Senators above in the Capitol. Saturninus. 
NOble Patricians, Patrons of my right,  
Defend the Justice of my cause with Arms;  
And Countrymen, my Loving Followers,  
Plead my Successive Title with your Swords:  
I am his first-born Son, who last  
Wore the Imperial Diadem of Rome.  
Then let my Father's Honours Live in me,  
Nor Wrong my Birth with this Indignity.  Bassianus 
Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my Right.  
If ever Bassianus, Caesar's Son,  
Was Gracious in the Eyes of Royal Rome.  
Keep then this passage to the Capitol,  
And Suffer not dishonours to approach  
The Imperial Seat▪ Consecrate  
To Justice, Continence and Nobility.  
But let desert in pure Election shine,  
And Romans fight for freedom in your choice.  Enter Marcus Andronicus, with the Crown. Marcus. 
Princes, that strive by factions and by friends,  
Ambitiously for Rule and Empire,  
Know that the People of Rome for whom we stand  
A Party Interested, have by common voice  
In Election for the Roman Empire,  
Chosen Andronicus surnamed Pius,  
For many good and great deserts to Rome.  
A Nobler Man, a braver Warrior  
Breathes not this Day within the City-Walls.  
He by the Senate is at length called home,  
From tedious Wars against the bloody Goths,  
That with his Sons (a terror to our foes)  
Hath Yoked a Nation strong, Trained up in Arms.  
Ten years are spent since first he undertook  
This cause of Rome, and to chastise with Swords,  
Our Enemy's Pride; five times he hath returned  
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sons  
In Coffins from the field—  
Let us entreat by honour of his Name  
And in the Capitol and Senate's right,  
(Whom you pretend to honour and adore)  
That you withdraw you and abate your strength.  
Dismiss your followers, and as Suitors should,  
Plead your Deserts in Peace and humbleness.  Saturn. 
How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!  Bassia. 
Marcus Andronicus I do rely,  
On thy uprightness and Integrity.  
And so I Love and honour thee and thine,  
Thy noble Brother Titus and his Sons,  
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,  
The fair Lavinia, Rome's bright Ornament,  
That I will here Dismiss my Loving Friends;  
And to my Fortunes, and the People's favour,  
Commit my case in Balance to be weighed.  [Roman Soldiers retire. Saturn. 
Friends that have been thus forward in my right,  
I thank you all, and here dismiss you all,  
And to the Love and favour of my Country  
Commit myself, my Person, and the Cause.  
Rome be as Just and gracious now to me,  
As I am confident and kind to thee.  
Open the Gates and let me in,  
An humble Suppliant to your Senate.  Bassi. 
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.  [Exeunt as into the Senate-house.  

ACT I. Scene II.  Enter a Captain. Capt. 
Romans make way, the good Andronicus,  
Patron of Virtue, Rome's, best Champion:  
Successful in the Battles that he fights,  
With Honour and with Fortune is returned,  
From where he circumscribed with his Sword,  
And brought to Yoke the Enemies of Rome.  Sound of Drums and Trumpets, then Enter two of Titus' Sons, and then a dead Son brought in Funeral Pomp, than two other Sons, all bearing his Armour, than Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora Queen of Goths and her two Sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Aron the Moor and others: they stop; the Armour is laid by the dead Son in order. Titus. 
Hail Rome! Victorious in thy mourning weeds,  
As doth the Bark that hath discharged his fraught,  
Return with precious Lading to the bay,  
From whence at first she weighed her Anchorage;  
Cometh Andronicus, Bound with Laurel boughs,  
To resalute his Country with his Tears,  
Tears of true Joy for his return to Rome.  
Thou great Defender of this Capitol,  
Stand gracious to the rights that we intent.  
Romans, of Five and twenty valiant Sons,  
Half of the number that King Priam had,  
Behold the poor remains alive and dead:  
These that survive, let Rome reward with Love,  
These that I bring unto their Latest Home,  
With Burial amongst their Ancestors.  
Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my Sword,  
Titus unkind, and careless of thine own,  
Why sufferest thou thy Sons unburied yet,  
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?  
Make way to lay them with their Brethren.  The Temple opens, A Glorious Tomb is discovered where they place the Dead Corpse, Warlike Music all the while Sounding. 
There Greet in Silence as the Dead are wont.  
And Sleep in Peace, Slain in your Countries Wars.  Lucius. 
Now give the Proudest Prisoner of the Goths,  
That we may hew his Limbs, and on a Pile  
Sacrifice his flesh to our dear Brother's Ghost,  
That so his Shadow be not unappeased,  
Nor we disturbed with Prodigies on Earth.  Titus. 
I give him you the Noblest that Survives,  
The Eldest Son of this distressed Queen.  Tamora. 
Stay Roman Brethren, Glorious Conqueror,  
Victorious Titus, Behold the Tears I shed:  
A Mother's Tears in Passion for her Son,  
Is't not sufficient we are brought to Rome?  
To Beautify thy Triumphs, and return  
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman Yoke,  
But must my Sons be Slaughtered in the Streets,  
For Valiant doings in their Countries Cause?  
If to fight for King and Commonwealth,  
Were piety in thine, it is in these.  
Andronicus stain not thy Tomb with Blood;  
Will't thou draw near the Nature of the Gods?  
Draw near them then in being Merciful:  
Noble Titus spare my first-born Son.  Titus. 
My Son, whom Chance of War your Captive made,  
Was Born in Glory too, and for great deeds,  
Adopted was the Eldest Son of Fame;  
Yet fell a Victim to Plebeian Rage.  Lucius. 
Deaf like the Gods when Thunder fills the Air,  
Were you to all our suppliant Romans then;  
Unmoved beheld him made a Sacrifice  
T'appease your Angry Gods; What Gods are they  
Are pleased with Humane Blood and Cruelty?  Titus. 
Then did his sorrowful Brethren here,  
These other Sons of mine, from me Exact  
A Vow, This was the Tenor which it bore,  
If any of the Cruel Tamora's Race  
Should fall in Roman hands, him I would give  
To their Revenging Piety.— To this  
Your Eldest Son is doomed, and die he must.  
Not to revenge their Bloods we now bring home,  
Or theirs who formerly were slain in Arms:  
For show me now those Valiant Fighting Goths,  
I'll kiss their Noble hands that gave the Wounds,  
'Cause bravely they performed. This was no Cause  
But a Sons groaning Shadow to appease,  
By Priestly Butchers Murdered on your Altars.  Marc. 
Remembrance whetts our rage, away with him,  
On yond Erected Pile kindle a Fire,  
And on it strew his separated Limbs,  
To be Consumed in the devouring Flames.  Quint. 
Learn Goths from hence, and after keep't in mind,  
That Cruelty is not the Worship of the Gods.  Sons of Titus with Alarbus their Prisoner Exeunt. Tam. 
Intention made it Piety in us:  
But in you this Act is Cruelty.  Chir. 
Was ever Cythia half so Barbarous?  Dem. 
Oppose not Cythia to Ambitious Rome,  Titus goes up to the Tomb. 
Alarbus goes to rest and we survive  
To tremble under Titus' threatning Look.  Aron. 
To tremble said you? did you say to tremble?  
No, Madam stand resolved, but hope withal,  
That the same Gods that Armed the Queen of Troy  
With opportunity of Sharp revenge  
Upon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent.  
May favour Tamora the Queen of Goths  
With like successful minutes, to requite  
These Bloody wrongs and Romans Injuries.  Enter Lavinia, Attendants. Lavin. 
In Peace and Honour Live Lord Titus Long.  
My Noble Lord and Father Live in Fame.  
Here at this Tomb my Tributary Tears  
I render for my Brother's Obsequies,  
And at your feet I kneel with tears of joy,  
Shed on the Earth, for your return to Rome.  
O bless me here with that Victorious hand  
Whose Fortune Rome's best Citizens applaud.  Titus. 
Kind Rome, that has thus Lovingly restored  
The Cordial of my Age to glad my heart:  
Lavinia Live, outlive thy Father's days,  
And Fame's Eternal date for Virtues praise.  Re-Enter the Sons of Titus. 
See injured Romans and amazed Goths  
How swift revenge has been to Execute;  
The Fire is kindled, Alarbus Entrails feed the flame.  
Now rest thou manes of our Murdered Brother.  
nought now remains but that we Close  
The Monument, and with Wars Loud Alarms  
Take our Leave.  Titus. 
Let it be so, and let Andronicus  
Make this his Latest farewell to the Souls.  Sound drum's & Trumpets, and Lay the Coffin in the Tomb. 
In Peace and Honour rest you here my Sons,  
Rome's Valiant Champions, repose you here in rest,  
Secure from Worldly Chances and Mishaps:  
Here Lurks no Treason, here no Envy Swells,  
Here grow no damned Drugs, here are no Storms,  
No noise, but silence and Eternal Sleep,  The Monument Closes. 
In Peace and Honour rest you here my Sons.  Enter Marcus. Marcus. 
Long Live Lord Titus my beloved Brother.  Titus. 
Thanks worthy Tribune, Noble Brother Marcus.  Marcus. 
Welcome dear Nephews from Successful Wars,  
You that Survive and you that sleep in Fame;  
Your Fortunes are in all Glorious alike,  
That in your Countries Service drew your Swords,  
But safer Triumph is this Funeral Pomp,  
That hath aspired to Solon's happiness,  
And Triumphs over Chance in Honours Bed.  
Now Noble Titus Gratify the Eyes of Rome,  
With sight of thee and of thy Valiant Sons.  
See how in Crowds they press to Honour thee.  Titus. 
Tho'a Conqueror, I am still my Countries Servant,  
And Rome's Vassal.  [Exeunt. The Scene Closes.  

SCENE III.  Enter Emillius, with other Tribunes and Senators: Gives Marcus a Robe, which he Offers to Titus. Enter Saturninus and Bassianus, with Follower's, at several Doors— drum's & Trumpets Sound. Marcus. 
Titus Andronicus, the People of Rome  
Whose friend in Justice thou hast ever been,  
Send thee this white and spotless Robe,  
And name thee in Election for the Empire,  
With these our late deceased Emperors Sons  
Then stand a Candidate, and put it on,  
And help to set a head on headless Rome.  Titus. 
A better head her glorious body fits,  
Then this that shakes with Age and feebleness;  
Wherefore should I assume this Robe and trouble you,  
Be chosen with Acclamations to day,  
To morrow yield up Rule, resign my Life,  
And set abroad new business for you all.  
Rome I have been thy Soldier forty years,  
And led my Countries strength successfully,  
And Buried one and twenty Valiant Sons—  
Knighted in Field, slain manfully in Arms,  
In right and service of their Noble Country:  
Give me a Staff of Honour for my Age,  
But not a Sceptre to control the World.  
Upright he held it Lords that held it last.  Marcus. 
Thou shalt ask the Empire and shalt obtain it.  Saturn. 
Proud and Ambitious Tribune canst thou tell—  Titus. 
Patience Prince Saturninus.  Saturn. 
Romans do me right.  
Patricians draw you Swords, and sheathe them not  
Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.  
Andronicus, would thy Aged head lay deep in Earth  
Rather than rob me of the People's hearts.  Lucius. 
Proud Saturnine interrupter of that good  
The Noble-minded Titus means to thee.  Titus. 
Prince I'll restore to thee the People's hearts,  
And wean them from themselves.  Bassi. 
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 satisfaction.  Ti. 
People of Rome, and people's Tribunes here,  
I ask your Voices and your suffrages,  
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?  Emillius. 
To gratify the good Andronicus,  
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,  
The People will accept whom he admits.  Marcus. 
Do All consent?  All Tribunes. 
All, all.  Ti. Tribunes 
I thank you, and this Suit I make,  
That you Create your Emperor's Eldest Son,  
Lord Saturnine, whose Virtues will I hope,  
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's Rays on Earth,  
And ripen Justice in this Commonwealth:  
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 Saturninus.  Emp. 
Titus Andronicus, for thy Favours done,  
To us in our Election this day,  
I give thee thanks in part of thy desert,  
And will with deeds requite thy Nobleness;  
And Titus, to advance  
Thy Name, and Honourable Family,  
Lavinia will I make my Empress,  
Rome's Royal Mistress, Mistress of my heart,  
And in the Sacred Pathean her Espouse;  
Tell me Andronicus doth this motion please thee?  Titus. 
It does, and in requital of the honour done me  
Here in the sight of Rome, to Saturnine  
Our Defender and the World's great Emperor  
I consecreate my Sword, my Chariot, and my Prisoners,  Presents his Captives to the Emperor 
Presents well worthy Rome's Imperial Lord;  
Receive them then, the Tribute that low,  
My Honour's Ensigns humbled at thy feet.  Emp. 
Thanks Valiant 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 deserts,  
Romans forget your Fealty to me.  Bassi. 
Say Noble Marcus and you the valiant Brothers of that  
Lovely Maid, is't not a Tyranny too great to bear?  
Shall he the Empire have?  
Why Let him, but let him leave Lavinia then:  
To be at once deprived of Power and Love  
Is more than Mortal sure can bear.  Titus. 
Now Madam you are Prisoner to an Emperor.  
To him that for your Honour and your State  [to Tamora 
Will use you Nobly and your Followers.  Emp. 
Of Mein Majestic, and of features Excellent!  
Were I to choose again, this were my choice.  
Madam tho' chance of War has brought you here,  
You come not to be made a scorn in Rome,  
Princely shall be your usage every way,  
Rest on my word, and let not discontent  
O'recloud the glory of your Brow.  Tamora. 
Tho' here in Chains, yet I am still a Queen,  
And have the noble Courage of a Goth.  
If in my face you signs of sorrow read  
The Frontispiece is unworthy my mind,  
And ill befits the greatness of my Soul.  Emp. 
Brave Queen— whose noble Mind in triumph leads  
The glories of our Roman Victories,  
Ransomless here we set these Captives free,  
And pay thy greatness with their Liberty.  Emperor. 
Come Lavinia, thou Trophy of the day,  
And utmost height of all our joys, for thee  
Altars shall be perfumed with richest Gums,  
And Hymen's Tapors there shall Blaze;  
Slowly you give your Hand, and Trembling Move,  
Art thou not fond of Empire or afraid of Love?  Titus. 
So Virgins are allowed their Modest Fears,  
They Even Changes for the Better Dread.  Bassi. 
See Friends what Longing Eyes she casts this way,  
And with her sad looks upbraids my Servite tameness,  
Empire I scarce thought truly worth my care  
When purchased with the hazard of your Lives,  
But if friends you are, now Aid me in my Love.  
Love is the Nobler Cause—  [Bassianus Seizes Lavinia 
By your leave Emperor and yours Lord Titus,  [from the Emperor Emp. 
How Bassianus?  Marcus. 
The Prince in Justice ceaseth but his own▪  Lucius. 
And he will and shall if Lucius Live.  Titus. 
Traitors forbear, where is the Emperor's guard?  
My Lord, see you not Lavinia is surprised?  Bassi. 
Yes, she's surprised by him that justly may.  Mutius. 
Help to convey her hence, and with my Sword  
I'll guard this passage safe.  Exeunt Marcus, Lucius', Mutius, Bassianus and follower's with Lavinia. Titus. 
Treason, all that do love the Emperor  
Now follow me and soon I'll bring her back.  [Titus Exit Emp. 
Forbear—  
Till she deserves that care you undertake.  [Exeunt Emp. etc.   


ACT II. Scene I.  Enter Bassianus, Lavinia; Mutius upon his Guard; Titus Pressing in with his Sword, and followers. Lucius' behind. Mutius. 
NO man passes here.  Titus. 
What Villain, boy, Bar'st me  
my way in Rome?  Mutius. 
Help Lucius! help!  [fall. Lucius. 
O Sir you are unjust,  
In a Wrong Quarrel you have slain your Son.  Titus. 
Nor thou, nor he, are any Sons of Mine  
My Sons would never so dishonour me,  
Traitor, Restore Lavinia to the Emperor.  Lucius. 
Dead if you will▪ but not to be his Wife,  
That is another's Lawful promised Love.  Enter Emperor, Tamora, Her two Sons; and Aron the Moor. Emp. 
No Titus, no, the Emperor needs thee not,  
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy race,  
She never, nor thy Traitorous Sons I'll trust,  
Confederates all thus to dishonour me.  
Was none in Rome to make a property,  
But me? shortly thou'lt proudly Bragg,  
I poorly begged the Empire at thy hands.  Titus. 
O Monstrous! What reproachful words are these?  Emp. 
But go, go give that foolish toy thy daughter  
To him that flourished for her with his Sword.  
A valiant Son-in-Law thou shalt Enjoy,  
One Fit to Bandy with thy Lawless Sons,  
To ruffle in the Commonwealth of Rome.  Titus. 
These words are Razors to my Loyal heart.  Emp. 
Therefore Lovely Tamora Queen of Goths,  
That like the Stately Thebes among her Nymphs,  
Out-shin'st the brightest Roman Dames,  
If thou art pleased with this my sudden choice,  
Behold I take thee Tamora for my Bride,  
And will Create thee Empress of Rome.  
Speak thou Majestic Goth, dost thou approve  
my choice? Then by all our Roman Gods  
I swear to lead thee to their Altars straight,  
Where Tapors now Burn Bright, and Every thing  
In Readiness for Hymeneus Stand.  
Thence in Imperial Pomp shalt thou be Led,  
The Glorious partner of my Throne and Bed.  Tamora. 
And here in sight of Heaven to Rome I swear,  
If Sturnine advance the Queen of Goths,  
She but the trifles will of Empire share,  
His Vacant hours shall her ambition bound▪  
And all her hopes with Love be fully crowned.  
But to my Emperor this one thing I commend  
In highest care and greatest Love 'tis done  
Receive this worthy Moor to your esteem.  Emp. 
Dark is the Case, but throed a noble light  
There Shines.—  Tam. 
First, be the place he holds in Trust and Confidence,  
His head in Counsel, and his hand in War  
Will never fail to do you service.  Aron. 
If Blushes could be seen through this black Veil,  
These undeserved praises, from your Mouth,  
Would die my Visage of another hue;  
Quick mounts the blood up to my swarthy Cheeks:  
Tho' not percieved, the Oven glows within.  Emp. 
Your word's a noble Warrant, If Rome or I  
Can Merit his, or these two Young Princes Loves;  
Their greatness knows no bounds but their desires:  
And now Ascend fair Queen, Panthean Lords accompany  
Your Emperor and his Royal Bride,  
Whose Wisdom hath her fortune conquered,  
Assistant be to see the Rites performed,  
By heaven she was sent to bless my Reign,  
Captive she came, but beauty broke her Chain.  Exeunt, As to the Altar. Titus. 
I am not bid to attend these Ceremonies,  
Titus when were't thou wont to walk alone.  
Dishonoured thus and challenged of wrongs.  Enter Marcus, Lucius', Martius', Quintus, Mutius Born in Dead. Marcus. 
O Titus see, see here what thou hast done,  
In a bad quarrel slain a Virtuous Son.  Titus. 
No foolish, Tribune, no; No Son of mine,  
Nor thou nor these confederate in the Deed,  
That hath dishonoured all our Family,  
Unworthy Brother and unworthy Sons.  Lucius. 
But let me give him Burial as becomes,  
Give Mutius burial with our Brothers.  Titus. 
Traitor's away, he rests not in this Tomb;  
This Monument five hundred years hath stood,  
Which I have sumptuously re-edifyed:  
Here none but Soldiers and Rome's Servitors  
Repose in Fame, None basely slain in brawls,  
Bury him where you can, he comes not here,  Marcus. 
This is impiety in you,  
And Mutius deeds do strongly plead for him,  
He must be buried with his Brothers:  Quintus. 
And shall, or him we will accompany.  Titus. 
And shall: what Villain was it spoke that word?  Martius. 
He that would vouch it 'gainst any man but you.  Titus. 
What would you bury him in spite of me?  Marcus. 
No, Noble Titus, but entreat of thee.  
To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.  Titus. 
Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my Crest,  
And with these Boys my Honour thou hast wounded;  
My Foes I do repute you every one,  
So trouble me no more but hence—  Quintus. 
Not I, till Mutius Bones be Buried.  [Marcus and the Sons all kneel. Marcus. 
Brother, for in that name doth Nature plead,  Lucius. 
Father, and in that name doth Nature speak.  Titus. 
Speak thou no more if all the rest will speed.  Marcus. 
Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,  Lucius. 
Dear Father, soul and substance of us all.  Marcus. 
Suffer thy Brother Marcus to Inter  
His Noble Nephew here in Virtue's Cell,  
That died in Honour and Lavinia's cause.  
Thou art a Roman, be not Barbarous:  
The Greeks upon advice did Bury Ajax  
That slew himself: And wise Laertes Son,  
Did piously plead for his Funerals:  
Let not young Mutius than that was thy Joy,  
Be barred his entrance here.  Titus. 
Rise Marcus, rise,  
The dismal'st day is this that e'er I saw,  
To be dishonoured by my Sons in Rome;  
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.  [they put him in the Vault. Lucius. 
There lie thy Bones, dear Mutius, with thy Friends,  
Till we with Trophies do adorn thy Tomb.  Marcus. 
No man shed tears for Noble Mutius▪  
He lives in Fame that died in Virtue's cause.  Martius. 
Mutius is buried and our griefs are eased:  Quintus. 
The Emperor and his haughty Bride return:  Enter the Emperor, Tamora, Chiron, Demetrius, and Aron, at one door. Bassianus, Lavinia at the other, Sons with Attendants. Emp. 
So Bassianus!  
You that so lately played the Gladiator—  
Give you Joy Sir of your Gallant Bride.  Bassi. 
The like to Saturnine and his, I say no more  
Nor with no less.  Emp. 
Traitor, if Rome have Law, or we have Power,  
Thou and thy Faction shall repent this Rape.  Bassi. 
Rape call you it to seize my own, ye Gods!  
My true betrothed Love, and now my Wife:  
But let the Laws of Rome determine all,  
Mean while am I possessed of what is mine.  Emp. 
You are, but look to answer the Affront.  Bassi. 
Answer I must and shall do with my life,  
Only thus much I wish thee understand;  
By all the Duties that I owe to Rome,  
This Noble Gentleman, Lord Titus here,  
Is in opinion and in honour wronged,  
That in the Rescue of Lavinia  
With his own hand did slay his youngest Son,  
In Zeal to you and highly moved to wrath,  
To be controlled in that he frankly gave:  
Receive him then to favour, Emperor,  
That hath in all his deeds expressed himself  
A Father and a Friend to thee and Rome.  Tamora. 
If Tamora be gracious in your eyes  
Then hear me speak indifferently for all;  
And at my request pardon what is past.  Emp. 
Be dishonoured openly—  
And basely put it up without Revenge!  Tamora. 
Not so my Lord, the Gods of Rome defend,  
I should be Author to dishonour you;  
But on my Honour dare I undertake,  
For good Lord Titus innocence in all;  
Whose Fury not dissembled speaks his Grief:  
Then at my Suit look friendly on his Age,  
Lose not so Noble a Friend on vain suppose,  
See those gray hairs, behold the good old man;  
Trust me my Lord he's innocent.  Bassi. 
Subtle Empress! insinuating Goth!  Moor. 
Harken to this Counsel with attention,  
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents,  
You are but newly stepped into your Throne,  
Lest then the People and Patricians too  
Upon a Just survey take Titus part,  
(You know he has a plausible pretence,  
He killed his Son, by him the Traitor fell)  
And so supplant you for ingratitude,  
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous Crime.  Bassi. 
What says the Moor?  Moor. 
I say young Lord; Titus is innocent.  Tamora. 
Innocent, where he should play the Villain.  [aside. 
Yield at Entreaties, and let me alone,  
I'll watch a day that's fitted for Revenge,  
And race their Faction and their Family.  
The Cruel Father and his Traitorous Sons  
To whom I once sued for my dear Sons Life.  
I'll make 'em know what 'tis to let a Queen  
Kneel in the streets to beg for grace in Vain.  
Look there my Lord, behold the good Andronicus!  
Take up the dear Old man and cheer his Heart  
That sinks in Tempest of your angry frown.  Bassia. 
Feigned as I Live!  
Abstract of Woman and of Devil.  Emp. 
Rise, Titus, Rise, my Empress has prevailed.  Titus. 
I thank you Sir, Most heartily I do;  
These words, these looks infuse new Life in me.  Tamora. 
Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,  
A Roman now adopted happily,  
And must advise the Emperor for his good.  
This day all Quarrels die, Andronicus.  
And let it be my honour, good my Lord,  
That I have reconciled your Friends and you.  
For you Prince Bassianus I have passed  
My word and promise to the Emperor▪  
That you will be more mild and temperate:  
And fear not Lords, and you Lavinia,  
By my advice all humbled on your Knees,  
You shall ask pardon of the Emperor.  Bassia. 
Kneel, Kneel, Learn to dissemble all,  
You have a Woman for your Instructor.  Martius. 
We Kneel, and vow to Heaven and the Emperor,  
That what we did was most, sincerely meant,  
Tending our Sister's Honour and our own.  Quintus. 
That, that was all the ill we meant.  Marcus. 
Here on my Honour I protest  
They had no other Aim.  Bassia. 
See the good Tribune Marcus too  
Has taken the Scent, and Bows amongst the crowed.  Emp. 
Marcus, for thy sake and thy Brothers too,  
I do remit their fault,  
Stand up Lavinia, thou shalt be my guest,  
With all thy Friends, Bassianus not excepted,  
If Rome's great Court can Entertain two Brides,  
But first impart a Smile to Bassianus,  
His looks are still contracted.  
Come Tamora, this is a day of Triumph,  
All Pleasures of the Banii shall delight thee,  
Where every Sense is exquisitely touched,  
Pleasures that not the World affords,  
And yet is only known to Roman Lords.  [Emp. Tam. etc. Exeunt. Aron Alone. Aron. 
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,  
Safe out of Fortune's shot, and sits on high,  [aloft 
Secure of Thunder crack, or Lightning flash,  
Advanced above pale Envies threatening reach▪  
Upon her Wit doth Earthly honour wait,  
And Virtue stoops and trembles at her frown,  
Then Aron, Arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts  
To mount aloft with thy Imperial Mistress.  
And rise her pitch, whom thou in Triumph long,  
Hast Prisoner held, fettered in Amorous chains,  
And faster bound to Aaron's Charming Eyes  
Then is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.  
Hence abject thoughts that I am black and foul,  
And all the Taunts of Whites and call me Fiend  
I still am Lovely in an Empress Eyes,  
Lifted on high in Power, I'll hang above  
Like a black threatning Cloud o'er all their heads  
That dare look up to me with Envious Eyes.  
Hollo, what Storm is this?  Enter Chiron, Demetrius, braving one another. Demet. 
Chiron, thy years want Wit, thy wit wants edge,  
And manners to intrude where I am graced.  Chiron. 
Demetrius, thou presumest still in all,  
And so in this to bear me off with Braves,  
'Tis not the difference of a year or two,  
Can render me less acceptable, or thee  
More fortunate, I am as fit as thou  
To serve and to deserve a Mistress favour,  
And that my Sword shall instantly Maintain,  
And plead my Passion for Lavinia.  Demet. 
Are you so desperate grown?  Chiron. 
Thou shalt perceive how much I dare.  Demet. 
Boy—  Chiron. 
Coward—  Demet. 
Do.—  Chi. 
More than thou darest.  Demet. 
Because I am thy Elder.  Chiron. 
Because you want Courage.  Dem. 
No, cause thou want'st wit.  Chi. 
I could tear my flesh.  Dem. 
And I Laugh at thy Madness.  Chi. 
No more, no more—  Dem. 
Then thus—  [Offers to draw. Aron. 
What mean you Princes?  
So near the Emperor's Palace dare you draw?  
And maintain such a Quarrel openly▪  
I have heard all the ground of this Debate;  
I would not for all Tagus' golden shore  
The cause were known to them it most concerns,  
Nor would the Empress for much more than that,  
Be so dishonoured in the Court of Rome.  
For shame put up.  Demet. 
Not I, till that tongue lie breathless in his mouth  
That uttered those reproachful words.  Chiron. 
For that I am prepared, and full resolved.  
Deadhearted man that thunderest with thy tongue,  
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.  Moor. 
Now by the Gods that Warlike Goths adore,  
This petty brabble will undo us all.  
What, think you not how dangerous it is,  
To make Invasion on a Prince's right?  
What, is Lavinia then become so loose?  
Or Bassianus so degenerate,  
That for her Love such Quarrels may be broached,  
Without controlment, Justice, or Revenge?  
Princes beware, for should the Empress know  
This discords ground, the Music would not please.  Chiron. 
I care not I, knew she and all the World,  
I Love Lavinia more than all the World.  Demet. 
Hereafter Learn to make some other choice,  
Lavinia is thy Elder Brother's hope.  Aron. 
Why are you Mad, or know you not in Rome.  
How furious and impatient they be,  
And cannot brook Competitors in Love?  
I tell you Lords, you do but plot your Deaths  
By this device.  Chiron. 
A thousand Deaths would I propose  
To gain her whom I Love—  Aron. 
To gain her, how?  Dem. 
Why mak'st thou it so strange!  
She is a woman, therefore may be courted,  
She is a woman, therefore may be won,  
She is Lavinia therefore must be Loved.  Chiron. 
What tho' Bassianus be the Emperor's Brother.  
Must she therefore be proof 'gainst powerful Love?  Aron. 
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chaste,  
Then this Lavinia, Bassianus Bride.  Chi. 
But yet I'll not despair—  Aron. 
How stand your Eager appetites affected?  
Would each have her 〈…〉 to himself,  
And not allow the other to breakfast with him?  Dem. 
So I were Satisfied.—  Chi. 
And my desires obtained.  Aron. 
You intent her then but for a running-Banquet,  
A snatch or so, to feed like men that go a hunting.  Dem. 
We can hope no more while Bassianus lives.  Aron. 
Whilst he Lives you cannot hope that—  Chiron. 
Would he were dead then.  Aron. 
Would any of you had courage to see it done.  Dem. 
I have—  Chir. 
And I—  Aron. 
Why arm you then your hands 'gainst one another?  Chi. 
I vow his death—  Dem. 
And so do I  Aron. 
Ay, now the work is likely to go forward;  
Be friends and join to compass the Main End.  
'Tis policy and Stratagem must do,  
That which you cannot as you would obtain,  
You must perforce accomplish as you may.  Dem. 
But when he's dead we are not sure she'll yield—  Chir. 
At least not to us both.  Aron. 
How poorly Skilled in matters of this Nature;  
Ravish her and make no more ado on't.  
I'll give you a sudden hint both how and where  
This matter may be brought about.  
The Emperor at his Banii holds his Court,  
The Gardens Round, are Large Miles in Diameter,  
Many close walks there are, and private Groves,  
Grottoes, and on the more Remoter parts  
Dark Caves and Vaults, where water crusted Lies  
ln Ice, all the hot season, of the year  
As Crystalline; And firm as when  
'Twas taken from the Winter's frost: and Snow  
As white and Crisp as when at first it fell▪  
From the cold Regions of the air▪  
There where these things are thus preserved,  
To cool the hot Pallets of thirsty Romans,  
Quench you the boiling favours of your bloods,  
And Bathe your Limbs in fair Lavinia's Snow,  
Till all your Lust like that does melt away,  
When to the Sun Exposed.  Chir. 
How fair a prospect do you give my hopes?  Dem. 
Methinks in every walk I see▪  
Some Lovely Roman Lady wandering now;  
And now the fair Lavinia I behold;  
Led by Bassianus to some distant place,  
Of close Retirement that none may hear  
Their Amorous talk, a place fitted for Rape,  
And every sin that Privacy Exacts▪  Aron. 
This way or not at all, stand you in hope;  
Come, now our Empress with her Sacred wit  
To Vengeance Consecrate,  
Will we acquaint with all that we intent,  
And she shall file our Engines with advice,  
That will not Suffer you to Err—  
The Emperor's Court is like the house of Fame.  
The Palace full of Tongues, of Eyes and Ears,  
The Groves are gloomy, deaf and silent—  
There speak and strike shaded from humane Eye,  
And ransack fair Lavinia's treasury  Chi. 
Brave Moor!  Demet. 
Excellent Moor.  [Exeunt.   


ACT III. SCENE I.  Enter Aron, alone, with Money. Aron. 
HE that had Wit would think that I had none,  
To Bury so much Gold beneath a tree,  
And never after to Inherit it,  
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly,  
Know that this Gold must Coin a Stratagem,  
Which cunningly Effected will beget,  
A very Excellent piece of Villainy,  Aron Digs a hole in the Earth with his Sword, & buries the bag of Money. 
Lie there Sweet Gold, thou poys'ner of Virtue,  
Thou powerful destroyer of all good,  
And glittering Seed of Mischief:—  
When e'er thou dost appear to Eyes again,  
Sprout up a plentiful harvest of Ills,  
With Blood thou shalt be watered, Humane blood  
Shall fatten the Soil, and men shall reap the crop  
In Penitence and Sorrow.  Enter Tamora. Tamora. 
The Emperor with Wine and Luxury o'ercome  
Is fallen asleep— in's pendar-couch he's Laid,  
That hangs in yonder Grotto rocked by Winds,  
Which raised by Art do give it gentle motion,  
And Troops of Slaves stand round with Fans perfumed  
Made of the feathers plucked from Indian Birds,  
And cool him into golden Slumbers—  
This time I chose to come to thee my Moor.  
My Lovely Aron wherefore Look'st thou Sad,  
When every thing doth show a joyful boast?  
The Birds make Harmony on every Bush,  
The Snakes lie rolled, Basking in the cheerful Sun,  
The Green Leaves quiver with the cooling wind,  
And cast a chequered Shadow on the ground▪  
The Flowers beneath do shed their fragrances,  
And through the Air diffuse their subtle sweets—  
Under this Shade, my Aron, let's lie down,  
In full possession of all these delights.  
The murmur of the Winds, and melody  
Of Birds that round us sing upon the boughs,  
Shall charm our thoughts to sweet repose,  
As Infants by their Nurse's Songs are laid to sleep.  Aron. 
Madam, tho' Venus Govern your desires▪  
Saturn is Dominator over mine:  
What signifies my deadly standing Eve?  
My Silence, and my cloudy Melancholy,  
My fleece of Woolly-Hair that now uncurls,  
Even as an Adder when she doth unrowle  
To do some fatal Execution?  
No, Madam, these are no Venereal Signs▪  
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,  
Blood and Revenge are brooding in my Skull:  
Hark Tamora, the Empress of my Soul;  
Which never hopes more Heaven than rests in thee.  
This is the day of Doom for Bassianus,  
His Philomel must lose her tongue to day,  
Thy Sons make pillage of her Chastity,  
And wash their hands in Bassianus blood▪  
Seest thou this Letter? Take it, give 't th' Emperor.  
This other fatal plotted scroll  
Shall draw two more of Titus Sons to ruin.  
I see thy cheeks gloe with desire of knowledge:  
But ask no Questions.  Tam. 
I'll only ask one Kiss,  
To leave a relish till we meet again.  Aron. 
We are observed— the prey is come into our Nets,  
Senseless their Lives destruction is so nigh.  Enter Bassianus, Lavinia. Tamora. 
Ah my Loved Moor, dearer to me then Life.  Aron. 
No more, great Empress, Bassianus starts  
To see our fondness, I'll leave you here;  
If he take notice of 't, foment a Quarrel,  
I'll go and fetch your Sons to end it with him.  Bassi. 
Ha! Rome's Royal Empress  
Unfurnished of Attendants and her Guard!  Tam. 
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art.  Bassi. 
Lavinia did she not Kiss the Moor?  Lau. 
Ay my Lord.  Bassi. 
Hell— Kiss a Moor.  
Believe me Madam, your Swarthy Cymerion  
Has made your Honour of his body's hue,  
Black, Loathsome, and Detested.  Tam. 
Saucy controller of my private steps.  Bassi. 
Why are you singled forth from all your Train,  
And here retired to an obscure place—  
Accompanied but with a Barbarous Moor,  
Unless to try Experiments?  Tam. 
I have patience to endure all this▪  Bassi. 
By Heavens I saw you in Eclipse.  
The bright Imperial Sun of Rome's Eclipsed  
With a black Cloud, ne'er to shine forth again.  Tam. 
Envious, unmannerly▪ Bassianus!  Lau. 
Come, my Lord, she is angry, let us leave her▪  
To enjoy her Raven-coloured Love.  Bassi. 
Yes— Like a frighted Crow he takes a flight round,  
And anon will light upon the same Tree.  Tam. 
Oh Insufferable!  Bassi. 
Ay intolerable! The Emperor shall know—  Enter Demetrius, Chiron. Demet. 
What change is this we in the Empress see?  Chiron. 
Why Royal Madam, do you look so pale?  Tam. 
Have I not reason think you to look pale?  
These two by talk have won me to this place  
This silent secret and retired place.  
And when they'd snewed me this dark gloomy Vault  
Which strikes the Eyes with terror to behold  
And does amaze the wondering Looker In,  
They told me, here at dead time of night,  
A thousand Fiends, a thousand hissing Snakes,  
With cries of restless Spirits and groans of Ghosts  
Would make such fearful and confused noises,  
That any Mortal Creature listening to't,  
Would straight fall Mad or else die suddenly.  
No sooner had they told this Hellish Tale,  
But that they said they'd throw me bound into't:  
Roll me far under ground; and leave me there  
To die a miserable Death▪  Lau. 
Heavens!  Bassi. 
Hear this ye Roman Gods.  Tam. 
My Sons, they called me foul Adultress,  
Lascivious Goth, and all the vilest terms  
That ever Ear did hear to such effect.  
And had you not by wondrous fortune come,  
This Vengeance on me had they Executed.  
Revenge it as you love your Mother's Life,  
Or never be ye henceforth called my Sons.  Demet. 
This is a Witness that I am thy Son.  Stabs Bassianus. Chiron. 
And this from me, struck home to show how much  
I Love the Honour of that Name.  [again. Bassia. 
Lavinia— oh!—  [Bassia. Dies. Lavin. 
I come—  [Lavinia Catches up his Sword & offers to kill herself, is prevented by D. Demet. 
Stay, we have other business with you yet.  
Drag hence her Husband's body to that Cave,  
As Aron did direct and Tople it— headlong in.  Chir. throws the Body into the Vault, Tam. the whilst holds Lau. 
Now farther off let's bear this trembling Maid,  
To some close Grotto, or hollow, underground,  
More fitted for delight and pleasure,—  
There we will rifle all her sweets.  Chiron. 
Come Lavinia—  Demet. 
Lay by this Modesty, and die thy Cheeks with red,  
They look too pale— Warm them with hot desires,  
And let 'em gloe with Lust and appetite.  Lavin. 
Empress.—  Chir. 
Nay, be not shy to go, you will but put us  
To the pleasure to grasp your tender Limbs,  
And bear you in our Arms to Covert.  Lavin. 
Oh Tamora thou bear'st a Woman's face,  Tam. 
I will not hear her speak.  Lavin. 
Princes entreat her, hear me but a word.  Dem. 
Give her a hearing, let it be your Glory.  
To see her Tears, but be your heart to them,  
As unrelenting Flints to drops of Rain.  Lavin. 
When did the Tiger's young ones teach the damn?  
O do no learn her wrath, she taught it thee,  
The Milk thou suckedst from her did turn to Marble,  
Even at that Breast thou hadst thy Tyranny,  
Yet every Mother breeds not Sons alike,  
Do thou Entreat her then to show a Woman pity.  Chir. 
Wouldst thou have me degenerate?  Lavin. 
'Tis true, the Raven does not hatch a Lark,  
And yet some say, they foster forlorn Children,  
The whilst their own Birds famish in their Nests.  
O be to me, tho' thy hard heart say no,  
Nothing so kind, but something Merciful.  Tam. 
Mercy! I know not what it means.  Lavin. 
O let me teach thee for my Father's sake,  
That did preserve thy life in th' midst of War;  
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf Ears.  Tam. 
Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,  
Even for his sake, am I Merciless.  
Remember Sons I poured forth tears in vain  
To save your Brother from their Rage;  
But fierce Andronicus would not relent;  
And we were but preserved alive in War,  
To make his mighty boast at Rome.  
Therefore away, and use her as you will.  Lavin. 
O Tamora preserve me from their Lusts,  
Kill me, throw me into you dreadful Vault,  
Where my dead Lord does now lie bathed in Gore.  
Do this and be a Charitable Murderess.—  Tam. 
So should I rob my Sons of more than half  
Their pleasure of Revenge—  Chir. 
She that did brand your Name with Infamy,  
Shan't with her boasted Roman Honour fall.  Tam. 
Take her hence.—  Lau. 
No Grace! No Shame! No Pity! O Barbarous creature,  
The 〈◊〉 and Enemy to our general Name.  
Confusion fall.—  Demil. 
Nay, if you rail, we'll stop your Mouth,  
And bear you farther off.  [Exeunt Dem. Chi. Dragging Lau. Tam. 
ne'er rest my Soul nor know one hour of joy  
Till all the Adronicie be made away▪  
Now will I hence and seek my Lovely Moor,  
To know what farther mischiefs are in store.  [Exit. Enter Quintus and Martius. Mart. 
Now Quintus are we near the place you named?  
What is that pleasant Secret you would tell,  
Made you so earnest with me to come hither?  Quin. 
'Twill please thee Martius when 'tis known, read that.  Gives a Letter. Martius' Reads. Quintus as soon as this comes to your hands, find out your Brother Martius, Bring him with you into the Banii Gardens, and attend a while at the Mouth of the Vault which is called the Serpents-Den, where once the mighty Snake was found: Your Expectations shall be rewarded with the Company of two Ladies, Young, and in our own opinions not 〈◊〉, whose sight shall not displease you; Love gives the Invitation, and we believe you both Gallant Enough to know how to use it, and to conceal our favours.— Quin. 
Now Martius do you blame the haste I made?  
My Earnest pressing of you hither—  Mart. 
No Lucky Quintus— I am all on fire  
To see these Nymphs, those kind and Loving ones.  Quin. 
O Love! How I do long to taste thy Banquet!  
And revel with the fair Inviters:  Martius. 
Be Quicksighted as the Hungry Hawk,  
That's watching for a Morning-Prey.—  
Let nothing like a Goddess scape thine Eye.  Quint. 
My sight is very dull what ere it Bodes.  Mart. 
This is the Entrance to the Vault.  Quintus. 
Martius! What drops of new-shed blood are these!  
As fresh as morning Dew distilled on flowers.  Mart. 
I am surprised with more than common fear,  
A Chilling-Sweat runs o'er my trembling joints.  Quint. 
Here is a tract of Blood.  Mart. 
Look down into 't—  Qu. Kneels and Looks down into the Vault. 
My Heart suspects more than my Eyes do see.  Quintus. 
Thou hast a true Divinity Heart.  Mart. 
What dost thou see?—  Quint. 
A Sight will make that Heart of thine Lament.—  
A Dismal sight of Blood and Death.  Mart. 
O tell me who it is, for ne'er till now  
Was I a Child, to fear I know not what.  Quint. 
Prince Bassianus▪ Pale and Bloody lies,  
All on a heap in this dark Loathsome Hole.  Mart. 
If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?  Quint. 
Upon his Bloody finger he does wear  
A Sparkling Ring that casts a lustre round,  
Which like a Tapor in some Monument,  
Doth shine upon the Dedman's Earthly-Cheeks,  
And shows the ragged entrails of this Vault.  
Look down yourself and see the Horrors there.  Mart. 
My Compassionate heart will scarce permit  
My Eyes once to behold the thing, for which  
So much 'tis grieved.—  [Looks down. 
What horrid sight that flaming Ring Betrays?  
So Pale did, shine the Moon on Pyramus,  
When he by Night lay bathed in Maiden Blood,  
O Quintus help me with thy fainting hand,  
If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath,  
And let's depart, to tell the afflicting news  
Of Bassianus Death.  Enter Emperor, Aron, Attendants. Emp. 
Said you not Aron my Empress walked this way?  Aron. 
See Sir, with hasty steps she follows you,  
Love brings her Swift along, as if from far  
She towards her centre moved.  Mart. 
O Royal Sir—  Quin. 
O Emperor—  Emp. 
Who are these?  Mart. 
Two unhappy Sons of old Andronicus,  
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour  
To find the noble Bassianus dead.  Emp. 
The sound is hateful, false— beware, 'twill blast  
The Evil Teller.  Mart. 
Too just a witness of so sad a truth.  
Within the hollow of that Vault you'll find.  Emp. 
I see, I see Bassianus Murdered Lies.  
Oh wherefore serve the Gods— tamely to sit  
In their Ethereal Thrones, and see such deeds  
Acted on Earth, and not throw sudden Vengeance down  
Upon the wicked Author's heads.  Enter Tamora, Andronicus, Lucius. Tam. 
Where is the Emperor?  Emp. 
Here Tamora, but Killed with fatal sights.  Tam. 
Where is the Noble Prince Bassianus?  Emp. 
Now to the bottom dost thou search the wound:  
Bassianus here lies Murdered.  Tam. 
Then all too Late we bring this fatal writing,  
The great Contrivance of his timeless death.  gives the Emp. a Paper. 
And wonder Strangely that man's face can fold  
In pleasing smiles such wondrous Tyranny.  The Emperor Reads. 
Follow the Prince, at distance to the Vault,  
We have contrived a plot to bring him there,  
If our hands miss or falter in the deed,  
Let thine finish the work which ours begun.  
Thou know'st our meaning, look for thy reward  
Beneath the Pine that grows so near the place  
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.  
Hid in the Earth thou'st found a Sum of Gold,  
Take it and free thyself from Slavery.  Emp. 
Oh Tamora! was Ever heard the like?  
This is the Vault and yonder is the tree;  
Look round and see if any Slave be near.  
See what thy sons trained up in blood have done,  [to Titus. 
Destroyed a Prince to me more dear than Empire,  
These are the Sons of good Andronicus.  
Drag them to prison, let them there remain,  
Till their punishment invented be;  
Torments that yet are to the world unknown,  
Stange and unheard of as the deed that's done.  Titus. 
Great Emperor upon my feeble Knee,  
I beg this grace with tears, not lightly shed,  
That if this fault of my accursed Sons,  
Accursed indeed, if e'er the fault be proved—  Emp. 
If it be proved, you see it is apparent.  
Who found this Letter Empress, was it you?  Tam. 
Andronicus himself did take it up.  Titus. 
I did my Lord; yet let me be their pledge,  
For by my Father's reverend Tomb I vow,  
They shall be ready at your great Command  
To answer this Suspicion with their Lives.  Emp. 
Thou shalt not free them, Titus.  Aron. 
Here is the gold which lightly with my Sword  
I have dug up.  Emp. 
A Sum not worth one hair of Bassianus!  
Throw't into Tybur let it Rowl to Tagus,  
From hence 'twas fetched and turn that Sea to blood▪  
Of which it was the price▪ and all its sand  
Henceforth that colour hold as if it Blushed  
For all the ills 't has caused to men.  Tam. 
Accursed Gold.  Emp. 
The Prince's body hear to funeral Pomp  
Those wretches into dungeons throw▪  Marti. 
Emperor.  Quint. 
Emperor.  Emp. 
Let 'em not speak a word their guilt is plain,  
Were there worse End than Death, 't should be their doom.  Tam. 
Andronicus I will appease the Emperor,  
Fear not, I'll bear thy Sons above the rage.  Lucius. 
Do't and Eternal blessings Crown the Empress.  Titus. 
Come Lucius come, stay not to talk with them,  
The Distance 'twixt a woman's tongue and heart  
Is more than man can travel in a day.  
Lead me.—  
Blinded with tears I cannot see my way.  [Exeunt. Aron. 
Ha, ha, ha, Poor easy loving fools,  
How is their Amorous Expectation crossed,  
Death wated for their coming here, not Love,  
How Easily men are to confusion hurled,  
'Tis gold and women that undo the world.  [Aron Exit. Enter Chiron, Demetrius, Lavina her hands Cutoff, and her tongue cut out, lose hair and Garments disordered, as ravished. Demet. 
So now go tell and if thy tongue can speak,  
Who 'twas that Cut thy tongue and ravished thee.  Chir. 
Write down thy mind, betray the secret so,  
And if thy stumps will let thee, play the Scribe.  Demet. 
She hath no tongue to tell, nor hands to write,  
And so let's leave her to her silent walks.  Chir. 
I'll tell the sorrowful Story for her;  
I'll tell it to the Empress if she will.  Demet. 
And I to th' Moor if that will do her good,  
Farewell, we have now revenged our Brother's blood  [Demet. Chi. Exeunt. Enter Marcus. Marcus. 
With heat o'ercome, upon a flowery Bank  
I laid me down to be refreshed with Air;  
Sleep sealed my eyes and bound my senses fast:  
But oh what troubles laboured in my mind!  
I dreamed that Snakes and Adders o'er me crawled,  
And twined their speckled bodies round my limbs,  
Bit me with venomed teeth, Stung me; at length  
Fastened their forked Stings just in my heart.  He sees La. She turns away and hangs down her head. 
Ha! is not that Lavinia turns away?  
Why shun you me Lavinia where's your Bridegroom?  
If I dream still▪ would all my wealth would wake me,  
If I do wake some Planet strike me down,  
That I may slumber in Eternal sleep  
Dearest Lavinia speak, what Barbarous hands  
Have from so fair a Tree lopped two such Branches?  
And who hath thus torn down thy precious hair  
And rifled thee? Why dost not speak to me?  
Alas! A Crimson River of warm blood,  
Like to a bubbling Fountain stirred with wind,  
Does rise and fall between thy rosery Lips▪  
Coming and going with thy balmy breath:  
But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee,  
And lest thou shouldst detect him cut out thy tongue?  Lau. turns away from him again. 
Ah now thou turn'st away thy face for shame—  
Oh had the Monster heard the Heavenly Harmony  
Which that sweet charming Instrument has made,  
He would have dropped his Knife and fell asleep,  
As Cerberus at the Thracian Poets feet.  
Come let us go and make thy Father blind,  
For such a sight will blind a Father's eyes:  
If one hours' Storm will drown the flowery Meads,  
What will whole Months of Tears thy Father's cheeks?  
Do not draw back, for we will grieve with thee;  
Oh could our Grief but ease thy Misery.  [Exeunt.   


ACT IV. SCENE I.  Enter the Fasces; Marcus and Quintus Guarded, as going to Execution▪ Then the Judges and Senators: Titus going before Pleading, and Stopping them in their Way. Titus. 
HEar me grave fathers, worthy Tribunes stay.  
For Pity of my Age, whose youth was spent  
In dangerous Wars, whilst you securely slept.  
For all my Blood in Rome's great quarrel shed;  
For all the Frosty Nights that I have watched,  
And for these brackish tears which now you see,  
Filling the Aged wrinkles in my Cheeks,  
Be Merciful to my Condemned Sons,  
Whose Souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.  
For two and twenty Sons I never wept,  
Because they died in Honours shining Bed.  Titus lies down upon the ground the Judges pass by him. 
For these, Tribunes in the dust I write,  
My Hearts deep languor, and my Souls sad tears.  
Let my tears staunch the Earth's dry appetite:  
Their Innocent Bloods will make't ashamed and blush.  
O Earth! I will befriend thee more with rain  
That shall distil from these two Ancient ruins,  
Than Youthful April shall with all its showers.  
In Summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still,  
In Winter with warm tears I'll melt the Snow,  
And keep Eternal spring-time on thy face,  
So thou'lt refuse to drink my dear Sons Blood.  Enter Lucius'. 
Oh Reverend Tribunes, Oh gentle Aged men  
Unbind my Sons, reverse the doom of Death,  
And let me say (that never wept before)  
My Tears are now prevailing Orators.  Lucius. 
O Noble Father you Lament in vain,  
The Tribunes hear you not, no man is by,  
And you recount your Sorrows to a stone.  Titus. 
Ah Lucius, for thy Brothers let me plead,  
Grave Tribunes, once more I entreat of you.  Lucius. 
Dear Aged Father, no Tribune hears you speak.  Titus. 
Why 'tis no matter man, if they did hear  
They would not mind me, or if they did mind,  
They would not pity me, yet Plead I must,  
And all in vain to them.—  
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones,  
Who tho' they cannot answer my distress,  
Yet in some sort are better than the Tribunes,  
Because they do not intercept my tale:  
When I do Weep, they humbly at my feet  
Receive my Tears, and seem to weep with me.  
But wherefore stand'st thou with thy Weapon drawn?  Lucius. 
I tried to rescue my Brothers from death,  
For which attempt the Judges have pronounced  
My Everlasting doom of Banishment.  Titus. 
O happy man, they have befriended thee:  
Why foolish Lucius dost thou not perceive,  
That Rome is but a Wilderness of Tigers?  
Tiger's must prey, and Rome affords no Prey  
But me and mine; how happy art thou then,  
From these Devourers to be Banished.  
But who comes with our Brother Marcus here?  Enter Marcus with Lavinia Veiled. Marcus. 
Titus, prepare thy Aged eyes to weep,  
Or if not so, thy Noble heart to break:  
I bring consuming sorrow to thine Age.  Titus. 
Will it consume me? let me feel it then.  Marcus. 
This was thy Daughter.  Marcus pulls off her Veil. Titus. 
Why, Marcus, so she is.  Lucius. 
Ye Gods, this object kills me.  Titus. 
Faint-hearted Boy, turn here and look upon her,  
Speak Lavinia, what accursed hand,  
Hath made thee handless in thy Father's sight?  
What fool hath added water to the Sea?  
Or brought a Faggot to bright burning Troy?  
My grief was at the height before thou cam'st,  
And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.  
Give me a Sword, I'll chop off my hands too,  
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain.  Lucius. 
Speak dearest Sister, who has Martyred thee  Marcus. 
Oh that delightful Engine of her thoughts,  
That told them with such pleasing Eloquence,  
Is now torn rudely from that hollow Cage,  
Where like a sweet Melodious Bird it sung,  
Sweet varied Notes, Enchanting every ear.  Lucius. 
O! say thou for her, who hath done this dead.  Marcus, 
O! thus I found her in the Banii Gardens  
Seeking to hide herself as doth the Deer,  
That hath received a wound incurable.  Titus. 
Then wounded her, better he had killed me,  
For now I stand as one upon a Rock,  
Environed with a Wilderness of Sea,  
Who marks the swelling Tide grow wave by wave,  
Expecting ever when some envious Surge,  
Will in his brinish Bowels swallow him.  
This way to Death my wretched sons are gone,  
Here stands my other Son a Banished man,  
And here my Brother weeping at my griefs:  
But that which gives my soul the greatest blow,  
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my Soul.  
Had I but seen thy Picture in this Posture,  
It would have turned me mad; what shall I do  
Now I behold thy Living substance so?  
Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears▪  
No tongue to tell me who hath Martyred thee:  
Thy Husband he is dead, and for his Death  
Thy Brothers are Condemned, and dead by this.  Lau. makes signs of sorrow lifting up her eyes & then hanging down her head & moving her stumps 
Look Marcus, Ah Son Lucius look on her,  
When I did name her Brothers, then fresh tears  
Stood on her cheeks as doth the morning dew,  
Upon a gathered Lily almost withered,  Marcus. 
Perchance she weeps, because they killed her Husband,  
Perchance because she knows them Innocent.  Titus. 
No, no, they would not do so soul a deed,  
Witness the sorrow that their Sister makes,  
Dear, poor Lavinia let me kiss thy Lips,  
Or make some sign how I may give thee ease.  
Shall thy good Uncle and thy Brother Lucius,  
And thou and I sit round about some Fountain,  
Looking all downwards to behold our Cheeks,  
How they are stained like Meadows yet not dry,  
With miery-slime left on them by a Flood?  
And in the Fountain shall we gaze so long,  
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,  
And brackish made as Brine with our salt tears?  
Or shall we cut away our Hands like thine?  
Or tear our Tongues out by the Roots, and in dumb shows  
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?  
What shall we do? Let us that have our Tongues,  
Plot some device of further Misery,  Lau. turns up her eyes & then hangs down her head as weeping. 
To make us wondered at in times to come.  Lu. 
Cease, Noble Sir, your tears, for at you grief  
See how my wretched Sister mouths and weeps.  Marcus. 
Patience Lavinia; Titus dry thine eyes.  Mar. gives Tit. his handkerchief. Titus. 
Ah Marcus, Marcus well do I perceive  
Thy Handkerchief can't drink a tear of mine;  
For thou poor man hast drowned it with thine own,  Lucius'. 
Ah my Levinia I will wipe thy cheeks.  Lau. shakes her head & points at Mar. handkerchief as refusing to have her eyes wiped. Tit. 
Look, Marcus, look, I understand her signs,  
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say  
That to her Brother, which I said to thee.  
His Handkerchief with his own tears all wet  
Can do no service on her sorrow full cheeks.  
Oh what a Sympathy of woe is this.  Enter Aron the Moor. Aron. 
Titus Andronicus, my Lord the Emperor  
Sends thee this word, that if you think your Sons  
Are Innocent, in Proof of that belief,  
Let Marcus, Lucius', or thyself good Titus,  
Or any one of you chop off your hand,  
And send it to the Scaffold, he for the Piety  
Will send thee hither both thy Sons,  
And that shall ransom them from Punishment.  Titus. 
Oh Gracious Emperor, for this good news,  
Let me kneel to thee my dear black Angel.  
Did ever Raven sing so like a Lark,  
That gives sweet tidings of the Sun's uprise?  
With all my heart, I'll send the Emperor my hand.  Lucius. 
Stay Father, for that War like hand of thine,  
That hath o'erthrown so many Enemies  
Shall not be sent; my hand will serve the turn,  
My Youth can better spare my blood than you,  
And therefore mine shall save my Brother's Lives.  Marcus. 
Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,  
And wreared aloft the bloody Battle-axe?  
O none of both but are of high desert:  
My hand hath been but Idle, let that serve▪  
To Ransom my two Nephews from their death,  
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.  Marcus. 
By Heavens it shall not go—  Titus. 
Strive you no more, such withered herbs as these  
Are fit for plucking up, and therefore mine.  Lucius. 
Dear Sir, if Lucius shall be thought your Son,  
Let me redeem my Brothers both from death.  Marcus. 
And for our Father's Love and Mother's care,  
Now let me show a Brother's love to thee.  Aron. 
Agree your strife,  
For sear they die before their Pardon comes.  
The Empress stays the Axe, who begged this Grace.  Titus. 
For this good deed—  
Never may she beg the mighty Gods is vain.  Aron. 
There stands an Executioner with his Axe.  Titus. 
No, Lucius, Fetch the Sword I use in War.  
That's only fit for such a Noble deed.  
The hand of one of you it shall Lop off,  
But whose at your return I will determine.  
Take hence Lavinia with you.  Exit Lucius. Marcus. 
Let it be mine, of five and twenty Sons  
This one is only left. O leave him then Entire.  Titus. 
That reason has o'ercome me: follow him,  
Haste Marcus, see him bring the Sword to me,  
Lest he should strike the blow ere he return,  
And so deprive thee of thy Piety.—  Exit Marcus. 
Now I am free, but this is no fit place.  
Come hither Executioner,  Titus and Executioner Exeunt aside. 
I will deceive them both—  Aron. 
If that be called deceit, I will be honest,  
And never whilst I live deceive men so.  
But yet in'th'End I will deceive you all.  
Thy Sons, thy Daughter, and her Husband too,  
Have been deceived by me, and now thyself  
Poor Aged man shalt be deceived and cozened.  
When once the mind is to destruction bent,  
How easy 'tis new Mischiefs to invent.  Enter Lucius and Marcus, with the Sword. Lucius. 
Where is my Father?  Marcus. 
Where is my Brother Titus?  Aron. 
He is hereabouts.  
O there I see him coming,  
I knew he was not far off.  Enter Titus, with his hand off. Lucius. 
See Marcus, See,— the deed is done.  
My Father hath deceived us.—  Marcus. 
'Tis the first time he ever did.  Lucius. 
You was too blame to trust him.  Marcus. 
So I was, but you'd have done the same.  Lucius. 
I think I should.—  Titus. 
Good Moor, give to his Majesty this hand.  
Tell him it warded his Father  
From thousand dangers, bid him bury it:  
More hath it merited, that let it have.  
As for my Sons, say I account of them,  
As jewels purchased at an easy price,  
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.  Aron. 
I go Andronicus, and for thy hand,  
Look suddenly to have thy Sons with thee.  
Good Old man, how, much the fight will please thee?  Exit Aron Ti. 
Oh! here I lift this one hand up to heaven,  Tit. Kneels, Ma. Luc. Kneels and hold him by each Arm as to lift him up. 
And bow this feeble ruin to the Earth,  
If any Power pities wretched tears,  
To that I call; what will you kneel with me?  
Do then my Loving Son and my dear Brother,  
For Heaven shall hear our prayers, or else our breaths  
Shall thicken all the Air like a deep mist,  
And stain the Sun with Fog, as sometimes Clouds  
When they do hug him in their reaking bosoms.  Marcus. 
O Titus! speak with possibility,  
And do not break into these deep extremes.  Lucius. 
Let reason Govern, Sir, your Sorrows.  Titus. 
If there were reason for these Miseries,  
Then within Limits could I Bind my passions.  
When Heaven does weep, doth not the Earth o'erflow?  
If the Wind's rage doth not the Sea grow mad?  
Threatening the Heavens with its surrowed brow.  
Wilt thou have reason then, weak humane reason,  
When Winds from every point of th' compass blow,  
Keep my mind smooth and calm. Heaven guides the Sea,  
Yet that rebels, swells, and throws billows upward.  Lu. 
Dear Sir, Go in, and try with sleep to moderate your grief.  Titus. 
No I'll go in and weep by my Lavicia.  Marcus. 
Good Brother do, go in, but try to sleep.  
We'll Lead you to the door, and then go meet,  
Your Sons, ere this returning from the Scaffold.  Titus. 
Lucius' wilt thou go too?  Lucius. 
That I may see my Brothers ere I part.  
I'm Banished Sir, and have not long to stay.  
I'll help to bring 'em to your aged Arms—  
And then of all that's Good or dear in Rome  
I'll take my Leave at once.  Titus. 
Do then— And tell 'em if my other hand  
Will do them good, I will send them that too.  Exeunt M▪ & L. Enter Junius, with an Arrow in's hand, running from Lavinia, and she tu suing him. Titus Turns back. junius. 
Help Grandfather, help, my Aunt Lavinia  
Follows me every where, I know not why.  
Look Look— dear Aunt, I know not what you mean.  Titus. 
Stand by me Junius, do not fear thy Aunt,  
She Loves thee Boy too well to do thee harm.  Jun. 
I when my Father is at home she does.  Titus. 
See Junius, see how much she makes of thee,  
What means Lavinia by these signs?—  
Canst thou not guests, wherefore she follows thee?  Jun. 
Indeed I know not, I,  
Unless some fit of frenzy does possess her:  
For I have heard my Uncle Marcus say,  
Extremity of griefs would make men mad.  
That made me fear, tho' I know my Aunt Loves me,  
Loves me as dear as e'er my Mother did,  
And would not but in Madness fright my Youth,  
Which made me fly from her.  Titus. 
She Kisses thee in sign she means no harm:  Lavinia Kisses Jun. Then beckons him to follow, going towards the door herself. 
See now she beckons thee,—  
Some whither she would have thee go with her.  Junius. 
Ay when my Father comes— or my Uncle  
To go with us— I'll wait on my Aunt.—  
Indeed dear Aunt I will.  Titus. 
Stay till his Father comes, Lucius is not yet gone far:  
But presently he goes to Banishment.  Junius. 
How far is that Grandfather?  Titus. 
A Long Journey—  Junius. 
And must I go with him or stay with you?  Titus. 
I am going yet a Longer Journey Child.  Junius. 
But whither Grandfather Titus.  Titus. 
From whence I came—  Junius. 
What to the Wars again, if my Father goes  
I'll have a Sword and go with you too.  Titus. 
No I am going to rest.  Junius. 
Oh to Bed.  Titus. 
To my Grave— to die—  Junius. 
Ah! but you shan't die yet Grandfather,  
I Love you.  Titus. 
Poor Innocent! how he beguils my thoughts.  
Bent strongly to invent a way how thou  Lavinia 
might'st disclose thy Injuries.  
And to our knowledge give the Nature,  
And the Actors of thy Wrongs.  
By the disorder of thy dress, I fear  
Thou wert i'th' Savage hands of Ravishers,  Lau. turns her head aside from Titus. 
Turn not thy face away to hide thy Blushes,  
Speak thou by signs, for here is none but I,  
And Little Junius knows not what it means.  Jun. puddles in the Sand with the arrow not minding their Discourse. 
What Roman Lord was it durst do the deed?  
Or played not Saturnine the Tarquin with thee?  Junius. 
Look here Grandfather—  Titus. 
Interrupt me not▪— Good Boy.  Jun. 
Do but tell me Grandfather, have I writ  
your name right—  Titus. 
Titus Andronicus!  Reads 
Writ with his Arrow on the dust. O Boy!  
Thou hast Inspired me, Lend me thy Reed,  
Kneel down Lavinia, Junius stand thou by me;  
Observe, Observe Lavinia what I'm doing,  Ti. holds the end of the arrow in his mouth & guides it with his wrists and writes on the ground. 
Rape is the word that I have written there;  
Without the help of this one hand that's left  
If that was not one cause for which thou mournest,  
Then here put forth thy foot and blot it out:  
That sigh and mournful Look tells me it was▪  
Beneath it write the wicked Author's Names,  
Decipher in the Sand as I have done,  she writs in the same manner as above. 
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain.  Titus. 
Chiron!` Demetrius.  Ti. Reads 
They, O ye Gods!  
But lest my dim and aged eyes deceive me,  
Read thou good Junius what is written there.  Jun. 
Rape,— Chiron— Demetrius.  Jun. reads Titus. 
'Tis so, Revenge, Revenge ye Gods! Revenge  
Upon the Lustful Sons of Tamora.  Enter Marcus, Lucius', Messenger after them bearing in the two heads of Titus Sons, and his hand. Marcus. 
Unhappy Titus! Unhappy Marcus!  Luc. 
Unhappy Lucius!  Titus. 
Why are ye thus returned, sadly exclaiming,  
With Ringing hands and Eyes lift up to heaven?  
Have yet the Gods more miseries in store?  Marcus. 
Worthy Andronicus ill art thou repaid,  
For that good hand thou sentest the Emperor  
Here are the heads of thy two noble Sons.  
And here's thy hand in scorn to thee sent back,  
Thy Griefs their sport, thy resolution mocked.  Tit. 
Now let Hot Aetna cool in Cysillia,  
And be my heart an Ever-Burning Hell!  
These Miseries are more than may be born,  
To weep with them that weep, some ease doth give,  
But sorrow flouted at is double death.  Luc. 
O that this sight should make so deep a wound,  
And yet detested Life not Shrink away.  Lucius Kisses one head. 
That ever death should let life bear his name,  
Where life hath no more Interest but to breath.  Marcus. 
Alas! that kiss is vain and comfortless,  
As frozen water to a Starved snake.  Ti. 
When will this fearful slumber have an End?  Mar. 
Now farewell flattery, die Andronicus,  
Thou dost not slumber, see thy two Sons heads,  
Thy Warlike hand, thy mangled Daughter here,  
Thy other Banished Son with this sad sight  
Struck pale and bloodless, and I thy Brother  
E'en like a Marble Image, cold and Num.  
Ah now no more will I control my griefs,  
Tear off thy silver hair, thy other hand,  
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight  
The closing up of our most wretched Eyes:  
Now is a time to rage, why art thou still?  Titus. 
Ha, ha, ha!  Mar. 
Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.  Titus. 
Why I have not another tear to shed,  
Nor have the Gods a mischief now in store.  
Besides I have news, Joyful news for all,  
I know the Authors of Lavinia's wrongs.  
And hug myself with thoughts of dear revenge.  
Taught by the practice of young Junius there:  
See what Lavinia in the dust has writ.  Lucius. 
What; could she write, when she has ne'er a hand?  Jun. 
Oh father I can tell you how.  
She took this Arrow, held it in her mouth,  
And with her handless Arms did guide it thus.  Marcus. 
Rape— Chiron, Demetrius.  reads. 
They—  Lucius. 
Accursed Goths.  Marcus. 
But who Killed Bassianus? that who can tell?  Lucius. 
She points again to those two Names.  Lavinia turns hastily and points to the Names on the ground▪ Titus. 
The same, the same, ye Everlasting Gods!  
Revenge, Revenge— I cry aloud Revenge.  Marcus. 
Be calm Andronicus; and yet I know  
There is enough written upon this Earth.  
To stir a Mutiny in the mildest thoughts,  
And raise Loud Clamours from the tongues of Infants.  Titus. 
Whilst this remains thus Legible, I'll get  
A Leaf of Brass, and with a Pen of Steel,  
Copy these words in lasting Characters,  
And lay it by: the angry Northern wind  
Will blow these Sands like Sibels Leaves abroad,  
And where's the Fatal Legend then?  Lucius. 
I have them written on my Heart.  Marcus. 
And I.  Junius. 
I have them too by heart.  Marcus. 
But wilt thou not forget them?  Junius. 
Never I warrant you Uncle.  Marcus. 
Wilt thou revenge 'em too?  Junius. 
ay, when I am a man.  
But even now I'll do what I can.  Marcus. 
That's a good Boy.  
My Lord, Kneel down with me, Lavinia Kneel,  
And kneel sweet Youth, the Roman Hector's Hope,  
And swear with me, with the same awful fear,  
The Father of that Chaste dishonoured Dame,  
Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece Rape,  
That we will prosecute  
Revenge upon the Traitorous Goths, or die  Titus. 
Marcus is roused, let's haste to Action now;  
For these two Heads do seem to speak to me,  
And bid, that words should not delay our Deeds.  
Ye heavy Friends, then Circled me about,  
That I may turn me to each one of you;  
And swear unto my soul as Marcus did.  
Revenge shall wipe away our Injuries  
Or Death shall hide us from the world's reproach.  Marcus. Lucius. Junius. 
It shall.  Titus. 
The Vow is made, come Brother take a Head,  
And in this hand the other I will bear:  
And Junius too, share in this Ceremony,  
Bring thou that hand— and help thy handless Aunt.  
Lucius' for thee, go get thee from my sight.  
Thou art an Exile, and thou must not stay,  
Make haste my Son, thou hast far to go,  
Embrace and part, for we have much to do.  Lucius. 
Farewell Andronicus my Noble Father,  Lu. Embraces them all as they go out. 
Man most distressed, that ever lived in Rome.  
Marcus farewell the best of Tribunes here.  
Farewell Lavinia too, my helpless Sister,  
Tho' wronged and wretched still to me as dear:  
And Junius too my Little Boy, farewell.  
Thy Father's hope, and only Joy that's left—  
To all thy Friends and weeping Parents here  
And Rome farewell, till Lucius comes again,  
He loves his Pledges dearer than his Life.  
From thee and these I turn my eyes away,  
'Tis Killing grief to go, and Death to stay.  Exit.   


ACT V. SCENE I.  Enter a Woman and her Husband a Goth, the Man having a Black-a-more-Child in his Arms. Woman. 
NOw give me the Child, wait you without,  
I see Company coming, be gone, the Moor must not see you.  Exit Man. Enter Chiron, Demetrius. 
O Princes, you are undone, disgraced:  
And Rome will shortly cast you forth with Scorn.  Dem. 
Woman, wherefore dost thou exclaim?  
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy Arms?  Wom. 
O that which I would hide from Heaven's Eye,  
Our Empress' Shame, this Black and loathsome Child,  
Of this in Secret she was delivered  
After your Royal Father died.— The Moor,—  Chi. 
The very Image of that Fiend.  Demet. 
Couple with a Moor! How cam'st thou by the Child?  
Or by what means did you the secret Learn?  Wom. 
O Sir he loves this black Imp above the World,  
And when we were brought Captives unto Rome,  
Ordered the Nurse, where privately 'twas kept,  
To bring it after him:  
She distempered with the Journey, Sickened,  
And died this Morning: With her latest breath  
She called me to her; told me the Secret,  
And bid me bear the Child to the Moor,  
Who would reward me well; but lest it should  
Grow up to ruin you and the Empress,  
And all the Goths Expose to Roman fury,  
In Loyalty I bring it to you—  
As both of you think fit to be disposed  Enter Aron. 
Here comes the Hellbred Villain!  
The father of this black and dismal Issue.  
Moor dost thou know this brat?  Aron. 
Yes, Princes be kind to't, 'tis of kin to you,  Chi. 
Accursed Offspring!  Dem. 
It shall not Live.  Aron. 
It shall not; Princes, for the love I bear  
to you and to the Empress, it shall not.  Dem. 
Give it me, my sword shall dispatch it,  Aron. Aron takes the Child from the Woman. 
Let no hand but mine do Execution  
On my flesh and blood— Now it shall not die.  
Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up;  
Say Murderous Villains, will you kill your brother?  
Now by the burning tapors of the Sky  
That shone so brightly when this Boy was got,  
He dies upon my Cymiters sharp point,  
That touches this my first-born son and heir:  
I tell you younglings, not Enceladus  
With all his threatning band of Typhon's brood.  
Nor great Aleides, nor the God of War  
Shall Seize this Prey out of his Father's hands.  Dem. 
Would you toth' Empress shame preserve a thing  
So foul and black?  Aron. 
What, what ye sanguine hollow-hearted Boys,  
Ye gaudy blossoms, chequered white and red,  
See, here is a gloss that will not sully  
Like your water coloured complexions,  
Which chance does fade and Sickness washes out.  
I say that black is better than another hue,  
In that it scorns to bear another hue.  
For all the water in the Ocean  
Can never turn the Swans black legs to white,  
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.  
Princes in spite of you this shall live.  Chir. 
Wilt thou betray thy Mistress?  Aron. 
My Mistress is my Mistress, this myself,  
The Vigour and the Picture of my Youth.  
This before all the world I do prefer,  
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,  
Or some of you shall feel my vengeance.  Demet. 
I blush to think upon this Ignominy.  Aron. 
Why there's the Privilege your beauty bears,  
Fie treacherous colour that betrays with blushing  
The close Enacts and Counsels of the Heart:  
Here's a Young Lad framed of another Leer,  
Look how the Black Slave smiles upon the Father,  
As who would say, Old Dad I am thine own.  
He is your Brother Lords, your Brother by the surer side,  
Although my Seal be Stamped on his face.  Chir. 
By this the Empress will be Shamed, Ruined,  
Scorned in Rome, and die by the Emperor's rage.  Dem. 
Consider Aron what is best to do,  
Save thou the Child so we may all be safe.  Aron. 
Why so Young Lords; when we join in League,  
I am a Lamb, but if you Brave the Moor,  
The Chafed Boar, the Mountain Lioness,  
The Ocean swells not so as Aron Storms.  
Now fit we down, and let us all consult,  All sit down upon the ground, and the Moor at a distance with his Sword between. 
My Son and I will have the wind of you,  
Keep there, now talk at leisure of your safety.  Dem. 
Aron, none knows the Secret but this woman.  Aron. 
How came she by that knowledge?  Dem. 
The Nurse this Morning dying, to her care  
did give the Child, told her the secret of its birth  
And bid her bring't to you.  Aron. 
Come hither Woman, art thou a Goth?  Wom. 
Yes.  Aron. 
Have you to none beside divulged the matter?  Wom. 
To no one.  Aron. 
Thou wilt keep it secret still, wilt thou?  Wom. 
To my dying day.  Aron Stabs the Woman▪ she dies, all stands up. Aron. 
And so thou shall't.  Chir. 
What mean'st thou Aron? wherefore didst thou this?  Aron. 
I have Sealed her Lips.  Demet. 
She would have Nursed it for thee.  Aron. 
I'll trust no more tattling Nurses.  
They must be prating, even when they are dying.  
Henceforth, I'll trust 'em with the Child, but not the Secret.  Chiron. 
Now I've Considered on't 'twas wisely done.  Aron. 
Now to dispose this treasure in my Arms,  
Come on you thick-lipped Slave, I'll bear you hence,  
I'll make you feed on Berries and on Roots,  
And Cabin in a Cave, and bring you up  Exit Aron with the Child. 
To be a Warrior and command a Camp.  Dem. 
Let's draw the body aside to that dark passage.  Chir. 
This was the only sure way to Lay a Woman's tongue.  Chi. Dem. dragging off the Woman. Exeunt. Enter Man. Man 
Where is my Wife, what makes her stay,  
The Moor passed by me with the Child in's Arms?  
Ha! they have Murdered her,  
They be draging her aside.  
This the reward? I'll after Aron and be revenged.  
Swift as the raging wind I'll follow thee.  Enter Emperor, Empress, Tribunes; the Emperor with Arrow; in his hands, with scrowls of Paper fixed to 'em. Emp. 
Tribunes, what wrongs are these? Was ever known,  
An Emperor in Rome thus used?  
Publicly exclaimed against, called Tyrant!  
If Titus or his Sons have suffered wrong,  
Was it the Law or Emperor did that wrong?  
Nothing has passed but what was done by Law  
Against the Sons of Old Andronicus.  
Yet here he writes to Heaven for his redress;  
See here's to jove, and this to Mercury,  
This to Apollo, this to the God of War.  
Fine Scrowls to fly about the Streets of Rome;  
What's this but Libelling against the Senate?  
As who would say, in Rome no Justice were:  
But his feigned Ecstasies shall not shelter him,  
Both he and his shall know, that Justice lives  
In Saturninus Reign.  Tamora. 
My gracious Emperor, my Saturnine,  
Lord of my Life, Commander of my Thoughts.  
Calm thee, and bear the saults of Titus Age,  
The effects of sorrow for his Valiant Sons;  
Rather pity the poor Aged man,  
Then be offended at these Injuries:  
Titus offends you not, his Frenzy may,  
And these Plebeians, these good honest men,  
Will henceforth not blame you, but Titus Madness.  Enter Senator's with Papers, which they give the Emperor— Chiron, Demetrius. Emp. 
See here, Libels against me in whole bundles,  
Directed to each Senator in Rome.  
Those on the points of Arrows were dispersed,  
These sent to every Tribunes habitation,  
To incite Mutiny▪ and raise Rebellion.  
Shall I endure all this?—  
Go drag him round the City with wild Horses,  
Nor Age nor Madness shall protect him now.  Tam. 
You Noble Tribunes, Rome's worthy Patrons,  
I know your Love and pity for Andronicus,  
He's a good man, and worthy your affections;  
No man has served his Country more than he,  
Nor no man more obliged his Emperor;  
Then doubt not he wants friends to intercede,  
His merits plead much more than you can speak.  
Go then and comfort him in his distress,  
Except the Guilt of Bassianus death,  
No Crime had reached the Lives of his two Sons.  
In secret for their deaths my Lord does grieve,  
Wishing they had been Innocent of the fact.  
I see you burn with Zeal to do him Service,  
But now the Emperor highly is incensed,  
And this is no fit time for intercession▪  
Leave me to plead his cause, I'll watch the hour  
That proper'st is to move in his behalf;  
His coolest hours when Love has calmed his thoughts;  
Go then, appease the mind of good Old Titus.  
With Sage advice recall his wandering sense,  
And nothing then shall be too dear for him  
To ask, or Rome's great Emperor to Grant.  All. 
Long live our gracious Empress.  Trib. & Ple. Exeunt. Empress. 
See Emperor what flattery can do,  
What secret Charms there are in well-tuned words?  
Unbend your brow then and dismiss your frown,  
What need of anger whilst this art prevails?  
Force oftener than a dissimulation fails.  Enter Chiron, Demettius. Diem. 
Arm arm, my Lord, Rome never had more cause,  
Plebeians to a numerous head are grown,  
And Tribunes won by Marcus Elocution,  
Join in Rebellion with the Multitude.  Emp. 
Who is the head, the Leader of this faction?  Chir. 
Marcus is yet the busy man.  Tam. 
That Talker!  Dem. 
The old Legions too by Titus late brought home,  
Without the City make their Randevouze;  
Within the People cry Revenge aloud,  
Revenge for the wronged Titus and his flaughtered Sons.  
To them the Army Echoes with Loud shouts,  
Long live Lucius Emperor of Rome:  Emp. 
Ay, now begins the mischief to approach,  
He is the darling of the Soldiers,  
Him they did hope should be Rome's Emperor,  
When by the Senate, to Andronicus  
Was given the Power to Nominate.  Tam. 
Still be your thoughts Imperious like your Name.  
Is the Sun dimmed 'cause gnats do fly in it;  
The Eagle suffers little Birds to sing,  
And is not careful what they mean thereby,  
Knowing that with the Shadow of his Wings  
He can at pleasure stint their Harmony.  Em. 
But who the harsh Music of the Soldier's tongues,  
Shall stop, that cry aloud, Revenge? or who  
The Murmurs of the giddy men of Rome?  
Still Marcus to the people does declaim,  
And Lucius to the Legions tells his wrongs.  
Who shall their Voices still?  Tam. 
That will I.  Titus. 
Justice, Revenge, Revenge!  Titus without. Emp, 
Hear this!  
Is this Music or discord to your Ear?  Chir. 
It is the Voice of frantic Old Titus.  Deme. 
He presses to your Royal presence.  Titus. 
Let me come, give a Roman Liberty.  Tam. 
Oppose him not.  Enter Titus. Titus. 
Justice ye Gods, Justice and Revenge.  
Junius, help me to find them. Search narrowly my Boy.  Emp. 
What looks the Mad man for?  Titus. 
I look for Justice, but she is not here.  
I have Searched all Rome but cannot find her.  
Oh! now I think on't, Justice is fled from Earth,  
She's gone, She's flown; fetch me a Net,  
I will go found the Ocean for her,  
I'll drag the Sea, perchance I may find her there.  
Yet there's, as little Justice as on Land.  
No, fetch me my Tools, I'll dig with Mattock and with Spade,  
And pierce the utmost Centre of the Earth,  
And when I come to Pluto's dark Region,  
I will deliver him this Petition,  [a Paper. 
And tell him, 'tis for Justice that I come,  
That I am Old Andronicus—  
Shaken with Sorrows in ungrateful Rome.  
Ah Rome, 'twas I that made thee miserable,  
When I threw the People's suffrages  
On him that thus does Tyrannize o'er me.  
Well! now I'll be gone, I must be careful,  
I must not leave one Vessel unsearched,  
This wicked Emperor may have Shipped her hence,  
And then we may go Pipe for Justice.  Emp. 
See, all the dread of the eagle's presence  
Cannot now awe to silence, that one poor single Grasshopper.  Tam. 
These are the Effects of Age and Madness,  
The effects of Sorrow for his Valiant Sons.  Titus. 
Where am I now! am I not in Hell already?  
Is not that Grim Pluto there; that Proserpina His Queen?  Emp. 
Stop his Mouth, take him away, and hang him.  Tamora. 
Forbear,— Emperor leave me to deal with him.  Titus. 
Pluto, you do me wrong with these delays,  
Since you will not send Justice unto me,  
I'll dive into the Burning-Lake below,  
And pull her out of Acaron by the heels.  Emp. 
What with this Mad man will you do?  Tam. 
I will Enchant the good Andronicus,  
With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,  
Then Baits to Fish, or Honey-stalks to Sheep,  
When as the one is Wounded with the Bait,  
The other rotted with delicious food.  Emp. 
Can you lay Marcus Tongue, and Lucius too in Silence?  Tam. 
I'll smooth the Father's aged Cheeks with golden promises,  
And he shall draw 'em both to his own house,  
To treat of Friendship, and tell their grievances,  
Whilst they are busied here in Long debate,  
Friends we'll employ to appease the Multitude,  
And pacify the Angry Soldiers.  Em. 
Stay then, and be successful in thy Art,  Titus. 
I was deceived, Justice is not in Hell neither,  Ti. with bundles of Paper. 
'Twas not she I saw Swimming o'er the black Lake,  
But a poor Solon-Goose,—  
I catched her by the wing, and knew her by her cackling.  
I'll look no more for her; now I'll go find Revenge,  
Confer with her 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 'em out.  
Tell 'em my sorrowful Name and Injuries.  Tam. 
Now I will tamper him with all the Art I have.  
See Titus, I am come to talk with thee.  Titus. 
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.  Tam. 
Appease ye Gods the troubles of his Spirit,  
If Titus knew me, Titus would talk to me.  Tit. 
Why who are thou? Thou art not Revenge,  
And yet I know thou art some direful Fiend.  
Thou hast Medusa's head, Megera's looks,  
Ay, ay, thou art a Fiend, but not my dear Revenge,  
Art thou, say?  Tam. 
I'll close with him to fit his Lunacy,  
What e'er I forge to feed his frantic fits,  
Do you uphold and in discourse maintain.  Titus. 
Were't thou Revenge, how I could hug thee?  Tam. 
I am Revenge to all that have offended you,  
And I am come to join with you,  
To work confusion on your Enemies.  Titus. 
Yes, yes, now I perceive thou art Revenge,  
Senseless I was that knew thee not before,  
Lo by thy side where Rape and Murder stands.  
But throughly to convince me that thou art Revenge,  
Stab them, or tear them on thy Charriot-wheels,  
And then I'll mount, and be thy Waggoner,  
And Whirl along with thee about the Giobes,  
Or if thou wilt, I'll by thy Waggon-wheel,  
Trot like a servile Footman all day long,  
Even from Epeons rising in the East,  
Until his very downful in't the Sea.  
And day by day I'll do this heavy task,  
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there,  Tam. 
These are my Ministers, and come with me  
To aid, and be assistant in thy cause.  
But right you named them, Murder and Rape they are called  
'Cause they take Vengeance on such kind of men.  Titus. 
Welcome dread Fury to my withered Arms,  
Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.  
Now what shall us do?—  Tam. 
What wouldst thou have us to do Andronicus?  Tit. 
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 may'st thou know her by thy own proportion,  
For all about she does resemble thee,  
I prithee bring them to untimely Ends,  
They have been violent to me and mine.  Tam. 
Thou hast given us good directions, this shall we do.  
But if 'twill please thee, good Andronicus,  
To draw his Brother Marcus from his Friends,  
And send for Lucius his most Valiant Son,  
Who now heads the Old Legions thou brought'st home,  
Before the Walls defying the power of Rome;  
If these, with their chief friends of either party  
To a great Entertainment at thy house,  
Thou wilt invite to Feast and Banquet with thee.  
There Saturnine, his Empress and her Sons,  
Shall be thy guests too, if after Parley there,  
His doom of Banishment is not revoked,  
And all thy numerous injuries redressed;  
Then at thy Mercy shall they stoop and kneel,  
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry Heart.  
What says Andronicus to this proposal?  Titus. 
But is not this a Plot for my other hand,  
And to betray their Lives?—  Tam. 
Six of our Noblest Romans shall attend you,  
Whose Lives shall warrant thee safety and return  
Of them, and all their Friends.  Titus. 
Prepare your Hostages, I'll do't.  Tam. 
Make but appear the Injuries, which thou  
In Papers 'bout the streets of Rome Dispersed,  
And then produce the wicked Authors of 'em.  
Justice shall be severely Executed,  
And all thy grievances redressed.—  Titus. 
Say no more the Old man will do't;  
In token that I will, I leave with you  
My pretty Junius here till my return,  
Here's all the little treasure of my Life that's left.  Tam. 
He shall be my Care.  Dem. 
Mine.  Chiron. 
And mine.  Tam. Dem. Chiron Exeunt▪ Tam. 
And all our care.  Titus. 
Now my little Lad, remember thy Lesson:  
And wherefore I brought thee hither:  Jun. 
I do Grandfather.  Titus. 
Remember thy wronged Aunt Lavinia.  Jun. 
Yes, and my Banished Father, and my two dead Uncles,  
And you Grandfather, that have but one hand.  [Weeps▪ Titus. 
That's my good Boy,  
Forbear thy tears, his Passion makes me weep.  Jun. 
You and my Uncle Marcus made me Swear,  
And do you think Grandfather I will be forsworn?  Titus. 
Junius, no, thou com'st of two Good a Kind.  
I know thou'lt prove a Chick of th' Game.  
But do it cunningly.  Jun. 
I warrant you Grandfather.  Enter Demetrius, Chiron. Demet. 
The Empress by us sends Titus word,  
The Pledges shall meet you at the Flaminia-Gate  
Where Marcus keeps free passage  
For Lucius Entrance into Rome.  
She nothing more requires but your speed.  Titus. 
Tell her that the poor Old man is going,  
Fast as the burdens of his grief and Age  
Will let him creep along.— Farewell Junius.  [Exit Titus. Jun. 
Adien Grandfather Titus.  Demet. 
Chiron, this is a sign of Titus Madness  
To leave the Chicken to be kept by th' Kite.  Chiron. 
She'll hover to o'er a while, but at the last  
With a deadly swoop, she'll bear it away.  Dem. 
This little Serpent ne'er shall grow to sting.  [Jun. whilst they talk, puts out handfuls of Gold & lays on the ground. 
What is the Child doing there?  
Is all that Gold, he strews about the floor?  Chi. 
Gold. All Roman Coyn.  Chi. takes some of it up to look on. Jun. 
O I have enough of this.  Dem. 
Enough! Thou hast a treasure about thee.  Jun. 
O but I can show you a huge deal more.  Chi. 
Canst thou, where?  Jun. 
In my Grandfather's Garden.  Demet. 
Ha!  Jun. 
There is a hugeous deep hole,  
Thus broad, and thus long I warrant you;  
And that's full up to the very top truly.  Dem. 
And who laid it there good boy?  Jun. 
I don't know, I believe my Uncle Marcus  
And my Grandfather, for they used always  
To be walking thereabouts, and sometimes  
Would tell me it was a Rich spot of ground.  Chi. 
How cam'st thou to find it?  Jun. 
This morning shooting my Arrow up on high,  
It fell down and stuck deep in the ground,  
Plucking it out, it pulled up a piece of Turf,  
And so I saw it.  Chi. 
All yellow like this?  Jun. 
Yes all yellow.  Dem. 
Ask no more Questions. Hark you Chiron,  
Let you and I in Old Titus' absence,  
Deprive him of all this great Mass of Wealth.  
What should old men do with't,  
That are past the pleasure of spending it?  Chir. 
Thou sayst right.  
Besides we shall do the State good service,  
Such a Treasure in Private hands is dangerous.  Dem. 
They are Rebels already; 'tis with this  
They win the People's and the Soldiers hearts.  Chir. 
Come, we'll remove it to our own Coffers.  
Let's entice young Junius to show it us.  Dem. 
He'll after make discovery who took it.  Chir. 
We'll contrive his death to look like accident,  
Pull some great Stone from off a high Wall,  
Lay't by him bloody, as if it sell by chance,  
And knocked out his Brains.— How like you the Project?  Dem. 
Well.— But shall applaud it better when 'tis done.  Chi. 
Let us about it now, come pretty Junius,  
Thou shalt walk with us in thy Grandfather's Gardens,  
We'll show you other fine things there;  
Finer than these, which he conceals from thee.  Jun. 
Are there any Swords?  Chi. 
Yes.  Jun. 
And Shields and Arrows,  Dem. 
O fine ones, they are hid just by the Gold.  Jun. 
We'll go look 'em then,— but I'll have 'em all.  Dem. 
Ay thou shalt have 'em.  Chi. 
Thou shalt have them Junius.  Jun. 
Come then, O brave!  [Dem. Chi Jun. Exeunt. Enter Lucius' and Captain's. Lucius. 
Approved Warriors and my faithful Friends,  
I lead you into Rome at Marcus call.  
To join in Council with him, 'tis believed.  
He sent me word the Emperor is hated,  
And now desirous the People are  
To see us within their Gates; be therefore  
Loud in complaints, impatient of wrongs,  
And wherein we have received Injuries,  
Let Rome make treble satisfaction.  Capt. 
Brave Youth, sprung from the great Andronicus,  
Whose great Exploits and Honourable deeds,  
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,  
Be bold in us, we'll follow where thou leadest,  
Like stinging Bees in Hottest Summer's day,  
Led by their Master to the flowered fields,  
And be Revenged on cursed Tamora.  Luci. 
I thank you friends.— Here Marcus comes.  Enter Marcus. Mar. 
Lucius, I send for you to let you know  
Your Father does invite us to his House,  
And with us too the Noblest of your Friends:  
This day a mighty Banquet is Prepared,  
The Emperor and Empress are his Guests:  
This as we Love him and regard  
His Aged Life, Andronicus commands.  Lucius. 
Him I'll Obey without Enquiry:  
And at his call through thousand dangers go,  
Where ere lead, these I am sure will follow.  Capt. 
Whilst Life does last, and Swords can make our way.  Marcus. 
Let's go,—  
Faint hearts dispute, but Noble minds obey.  [Exeunt. Enter Demetrius, Chiron, Junius, in Titus Garden. Demet. 
Now Junius, which is the place?  Jun. 
A little further.—  [Walking forward. Chiron. 
Now shall that Wealth be our Easy purchase,  
For which Titus sweat drops of Blood in War,  Jun. 
The place is covered close since I was here.  
Lend me your Sword, my Lord, to pierce the ground,  
And with the point find where the Gold does Lie.  Demet. 
Take mine.  [Dem. gives Jun. his naked Sword. Chi. 
Wherefore dost thou pause.  Jun. 
Why should this wound the Earth that's innocent?  
'Twere better run it in the Hearts of Villains,  
Of Murderers and Ravishers.  Dem. 
What means the Child?  Jun. 
Thiefs, Thiefs!  Enter Titus and Servants. Chir. 
We are betrayed.  Titus. 
There, Seize them, bind their hands, stop their Mouths.  Dem. 
Villains forbear, we are the Empress Sons.  Titus. 
Princes, and come to Rob an Old man's Orchard?  
So: bind them fast, Oh my Little dear decoy,  
Handsomely thou hast brought these Wild fowl to my Nets.  Enter Lavinia. 
Come, come Lavinia, look, thy foes are bound.  
Stop close their Mouths, let 'em not speak to me;  
But let them hear what fearful words I utter.  
Oh Villains! Chiron and Demetrius!  
Here stands the Spring whom you have stained with Mud;  
This goodly Summer with your Winter mixed.  
You killed her Husband, and for that vile fault,  
Two of her Brothers were Condemned to death,  
My hand Cutoff, and Subject made of Mirth.  
Both her sweet Hands, her Tongue, and that more dear  
Than Hands or Tongue, her spotless Chastity,  
Inhuman Traitors, you constrained and forced.  
Hark Villains, how I mean to Martyr you:  
This one hand yet is left to Cut your Throats,  
Whilst that Lavinia 'twixt her Stump does hold  
The Basin that receives your Guilty Blood.  
Then shall your flesh be torn off with hot Pincers,  
And your bones scraped till you are skeletons.  
For worse than Philomela you used my Daughter,  
And worse than Progne I will be revenged.  
Your Flesh shall be Cooked for the Empress' palate,  
And your Blood mixed with all the Wine that's drunk.  
Come bring them in, be every one officious,  
To make this Banquet, which I wish may prove  
More stern sand Bloody than the Centauris Feast.  [Exeunt. Enter Marcus, Lucius', Captain's and Romans. Mar. 
Welcome worthy Romans.  Lucius. 
Welcome, Valiant Friends.  Mar. 
All welcome to the house of Old Andronicus.  
A house of Woe and Sorrow, for nothing  
But grief and Sad despair inhabit here.  
And yet at sight of you the good Old man,  
The Injured Titus will Even weep for Joy.  Enter Titus. Lucius. 
See where he comes, but why dear aged Father  
Dost thou appear thus like an Executioner?  
Why is this Bloody Weapon in thy hand?  
And why are these gray-hairs sprinkled with blood?  Titus. 
'Tis done, the bloody Act is done,  
I have taken Vengeance on the Ravishers,  
Chiron, Demetrius.— But I want the Moor,  
The Moor, that dismal Fiend of darkness,  
Those others, Junius and I entrapped.—  Enter Goth and Soldiers, with the Moor Bound. Goth. 
Bring in the Villain.  Titus. 
Ha the Moor!  
Now would I clap my hands for Joy,  
Were I not prevented by his Cruelty,  
Which robbed me of one.  Goth. 
Renowned Roman! Now Revenge that loss,  
Revenge thy wrongs and mine.  Ti. 
Say Goth for by thy habit Goth thou art,  
Why hast thou done me this good turn?  Goth. 
I am a Soldier, and love not to speak but to the purpose.  
Short then will be my speech and blunt.  Lucius. 
Say on.  Goth. 
Behold this Moor the Sire of this squob toad.  
For this he and Tamora clubbed together,  
The Queen of Goths Tupped by a Goat.  Tit. 
Ha! ha! ha!  Goth. 
The Nurse that only knew this secret deed—  
This morning died, but with her parting breath  
Declared the secret to my Wife her friend.  
And bid her bear this issue to the Moor—  
Who would reward her for't— and so he did:  
For she no sooner had performed the trust,  
But he his dagger struck into her heart,  
And Bore away the Child in's Arms.—  
I was not then far off, and knew it well.  
And therefore followed him with these my friends.  
Seized him in flight, and bring him bound to you.  Marc. 
Now Empress thy deeds of darkness come to light.  Goth. 
If not concerned for Rome's dishonour  
In a polluted Empress, Lustful Tamora,  
At least, incited by your private Wrongs,  
Torment the Villain; Add to his pain one more  
For murder of my wife.  Tit. 
O worthy Goth be ever loved of us.  
We will devise the Villains Punishment,  
And thou shall be an Executioner.  Luc. 
Say wall-eyed slave, whither would you convey  
This growing Image of thy fiendlike face?  
Why dost not Speak? what, deaf, not a word!  Tit. 
What! Monster art thou sullen?  
But this and More, much more thou shalt confess.  
Drag him from hence, within there is a Rack,  
Go bind him to't, that shall Extort from him  
Each secet that lies hid in his dark soul.  Exeunt Goth, Moor, and Child. Luc. 
Behold the Hellish Dog;  
See how he Rowls his eyes and grins.  Marc. 
The Trumpets sound, the Emperor is near,  
Retire and lay your bloody weapon by.  Tit. 
I'll fit myself for his reception.  [Tit. Exit Luc. 
Look out and give the word.  
The Emperor shall hear our Music too.  Mar. 
See here he comes— see how the Tribunes crowd above.  Enter Emperor, Tamora, Senator's, and others; Marcus, Lucius', and Captains Range themselves on the other side. Emp. 
What, hath the Firmament more Suns than one?  Luc. 
What dost avail to call thyself a Sun,  
That art so muffled in black clouds,  
The steams that rise from blood, hang round thee like a fog.  Emp. 
See Empress I am braved already,  
Came I to talk with Boys?  Marc. 
Nephew, cease discourse,  
This business must be quietly debated.  Scene draws and discovers a Banquett. Enter Titus, Junius, Lavinia Veiled. 
This great preparation by the careful Titus  
Was ordained to that Honourable End.  Titus. 
With their presence let no'ne refuse to grace  
The poor Table of Andronicus.—  
First, I entreat that favour of the Emperor.  
Next of his Empress.  Tam. 
We are beholding to the good Andronicus.  Titus. 
A poor Old man, but a well-meaning heart.  
Give me a Bowl filled with Falernian Wine,  
The like to every one— Health to the Emperor.  
Madam, you'll pledge this Health.  All drink, Trumpets sound on both sides. Tam. 
Ay, honest Titus.  Titus. 
Honest if you knew my thoughts.  Emp. 
Why is that Lady Veiled?  Titus. 
My Lord the Emperor, resolve me this.  
Was it well done of Old Virginius  
To slay his Daughter with his own right hand  
Because she had been Forced, Stained and Deflowered?  Emp. 
It was Andronicus.  Titus. 
Your reason, mighty Emperor.  Emp. 
Because she should not then survive her shame,  
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.  Titus. 
A Reason weighty, strong and effectual,  
A Pattern, Precedent, and lively warrant  
For me most wretched to perform the like.  
die, then, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee,  
And with thy shame thy Father's sorrow die.  [Kills Lau. Emp. 
What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?  Tam. 
Why hast thou slain thy only Daughter thus?  Tit. 
See there— no hands, no tongue is left,  Titus pulls off Lavinias' Veil. 
Nothing that could explain her Injuries,  
I am more woeful than Virginius was;  
And had a thousand times more cause than he  
To do this deed.  Emp. 
If she was Ravished, tell by whom?  Tit. 
That Aron best can tell.  Emp. 
The Moor!  Tam. 
Hear him not, he's Mad.  Emp. 
If it be not Frenzy, make it appear.  Tam. 
He cannot, 'tis perfect Madness.  Tit. 
I'll make both that and more appear.  
A Child of darkness too is come to light.  
Draw back that Screen.  The Moor discovered on a Rack Tam. 
Aron in Torment!  Tit. 
Empress' keep your seat,  
What here you see, is now beyond redress.  
Moor confess the Ravishers.  Aron shakes his head in sign he will not. 
No! Stretch him.—  
By whom hadst thou this black brat,  
This Babe of darkness?  Aron shakes his head again. 
Nor that neither: Disjoint his Limbs  
Say now, did not Chiron and Demetrius  
By thine and this Empress' advice,  
Wrong my Lavinia, and prompted  
By you two, Murder Bassianus?  Aron. 
Ha— ha— ha—  Emp. 
Empress, what Crimes are these laid to your charge  
And to your Sons— they Murder Bassianus!  Tam. 
All distraction still; They! Alas! no.  
But Demetrius, Chiron, for you I fear,  
Where are my Sons, if safe they would be here?  Tit. 
Reveal then what is yet unseen.— Empress behold,  A Curtain drawn discovers the heads and hands of Dem. and Chir. hanging up against the wall. Their bodies in Chairs in bloody Linen. 
There are their heads, their hands, and mangled Trunks.  Tam. 
O dismal sight!  Tit. 
But here their hearts and Tongues.  
No dish but holds some part of which you've fed.  
And all the Wine you've drunk mixed with their blood.  Tam. 
Inhuman Villain!  Tit. 
Like the Earth thou hast swallowed thy own increase,  
Thyself hast Eaten what thyself hast bred;  
Thus crammed, thou'rt bravely fatened up for Hell.  
And thus to Pluto I do serve thee up.  [Titus stabs the Empress. Emp. 
die frantic Wretch, for these effects of Madness.  [Emp. stabs Titus. Luc. 
Can the son's eye behold the father bleed?  
Thus quickly I revengee what thou thou hast done:  Lucius stabs the Emperor. 
die unbelieving Tyrant.  Mar. 
Romans before you stir hear me a word;  The Sena. and Capt. begin to movefrom above 
I charge you hear me.  Emill. 
Speak Marcus.  Mar. 
Let any than forbear to move from's place  
Till we have heard the Moors confession.  
Though he laughs upon the Wheel and mocks our torments,  
Yet I will try another Experiment.  Marcus holds the Child as if he would Kill it. 
Give me the Hellish infant: Moor, now speak  
Or the young Kid goes after the Old Goat.  Aron. 
Save but the Child I'll tell thee wondrous things.  
That highly may advantage you to hear.  Tam. 
Moor, speak not a word against my honour  
To save the World.  Aron. 
Yes Empress to save that child I will.  
The blow is given that will send you soon  
Both from the shame and Punishment,  
But all shall now be buried in my death,  
Unless you swear to me that child shall Live.  Mat. 
Tell on thy Mind, thy child shall live.  Aron. 
Swear that it shall, and then I will begin.  Marc. 
Whom should we swear by, thou believest no God.  Moor. 
What if I do not? as indeed I do not,  
Yet do I know you are Religious,  
And have a thing within you called Conscience,  
Therefore I urge your Oath for that I know  
An Idiot holds his bauble for a God,  
And keeps the Oath which by that god he swears.  
Therefore I urge an Oath, swear then  
To save my Boy, Nourish and bring him up,  
Or else I will discover nought to thee.  Mar. 
By our Gods I swear.  Moor. 
And Lucius too, swear thou.  Lucius. 
I swear as Marcus did.  Moor. 
First know than I begot him on the Empress.  Emp. 
O Luxurious woman.  Aron. 
Nay this was but a deed of Charity  
To that which you shall hear of me anon.  
'Twas her two sons that Murdered Bassianus.  
They Cut Lavinia's tongue and ravished her.  Mar. 
Barbarous Villains, like thyself.  Aron. 
Indeed I was their tutor to instruct them,  
I trained thy Nephews to that obscure hole,  
I wrote the Letter which was found,  
And hid the Gold within the Letter mentioned,  
Confederate with the Queen and her two Sons.  
I played the cheater for Old Titus' hand.  
For this device the Empress gave me twenty Kisses,  
Sweet as were those I had in her Embraces,  
When we were acting Pleasures, which produced  
That Little thing where Moor and Goths combined,  
And that is it which you have Sworn to save  Emp. 
Stop the Villains Mouth, let him speak no more;  
No more such words to my dishonour.  Tam. 
I have now no other Son, and should  
Be kind to it in Death, let it approach me then,  The Child is brought to the Empress, she Stabs it. 
That I may leave with it my parting Kiss.—  
die thou offspring of that Blab-tongued Moor.  Aron. 
Accursed Empress!  Tam. 
Accursed Moor.  
May that breath be thy last as this is mine.  [dies▪ Aron. 
She has outdone me in my own Art—  
Outdone me in Murder— Killed her own Child.  
Give it me— I'll eat it.  Emp. 
If Spirits Live after our Bodies die,  
May the good Gods at distance far keep mine,  
From that damned Moors, and Empress too from thine.  [dies▪ Marcus. 
Romans, from what you have seen and heard,  
Now Judge what cause had Titus to Revenge  
These Wrongs unspeakable, past patience,  
Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein?  
And from the highest Tower of this great Pile,  
The poor remainder of Andronice  
Will hand in hand all headlong cast us down,  
And on the ragged Stones beat forth our Brains.  
Speak Romans speak, and if you say we shall,  
Lucius' and I win thus Embracing fall.  Emil. 
Worthy Marcus, and Valiant Lucius Live;  
Lucius, Live Emperor of Rome.  
I know it is the wish of all, then speak aloud.  Omnes. 
Lucius, all hail, Rome's Royal Emperor.  Lucius. 
Thanks Noble Romans.  All disappear from above. 
But worthy Friends, pray give me leave a while,  
For Nature puts me to a heavy task,  
At distance stand, but Marcus draw you near,  
To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.  
O take this warm Kiss on thy pale cold Lips,  
These sorrowful drops upon thy bloud-stayned face;  
The last true duty of thy pious Son.  Marcus. 
Tear for Tear, and Loving Kiss,  
Thy Brother Marcus tenders on thy Lips.  jan. 
Ah my poor dear Grandfather—  
Father I cannot speak more for tears.—  Enter All below. Emil. 
You sad Andronicuses, having done with grief,  
Give Sentence on thsi execrable Wretch—  
That silled your House with all this Ruin.  Lucius. 
It was decreed he should expire in flames,  
Around him kindle straight his Funeral Fire.  
The Matter is prepared, now let it blaze:  The Fire flames about the Moor. 
He shall at once be burnt and Racked to death.  Aron. 
Wherefore should Rage be mure and Fury dumb.  
Ten thousand worser ills then e'er I did,  
Would I perform if I might have my will.  
If one good deed in all my Life I did  
I now repent it from my very heart,  
For proof I do, I'll Curse ye till I die—  
Vengeance and blewest Plagues consume ye all.  Marcus. 
Snarl on, and like a Curs' [d fell dog,  
In howlings end thy Life.  [The Scene closes. Lucius. 
Now convey the Emperor to his Father's Tomb;  
As for that hateful Tygress Tamora,  
No Rights nor Funeral Ceremony.  
My Noble Father and Lavinia  
Shall be closed in our Housaslhold Monument,  
Romans and Friends, assist ye all a while.  
When these sad Ceremonies be performed,  
Lead me to Empire. Crown me if you please,  
But nothing this afflicted heart can ease.  
FINIS.