Tit. Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado, But give your pigeons to the emperor :
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold; mean while, here's money for thy charges. ---Give me a pen and ink.—
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?
Clo. Ay, sir.
Tit. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach, you must kneel: then kiss his foot; then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward, I'll be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.
Clo. I warrant you, sir; let me alone.
Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it. Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant :-
And when thou hast given it to the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clo. God be with you, sir, I will.
Tit. Come, Marcus, let's go :-Publius, follow me.
The same. Before the Palace.
Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, Lords, and others; SATURNINUS with the arrows in his hand, that TITUS shot.
Sat. Why, lords, what wrongs are these? Was ever seen
An emperor of Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
Of legal justice, us'd in such contempt ?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace
Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,
But even with law, against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
And now 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:
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
What's this, but libelling against the senate,
And blazoning our injustice every where?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But, if I live, his feigned ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages:
But he and his shall know, that justice lives
In Saturninus' health; whom, if she sleep,
He'll so awake, as she in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd his heart; And rather comfort his distressed plight,
Than prosecute the meanest, or the best,
For these contempts.-Why, thus it shall become
High-witted Tamora to gloze with all:
But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.--
How now, good fellow? wouldst thou speak with us? Clo. Yes, forsooth, an your mistership be imperial. Tam. Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor. Clo. 'Tis he.-God, and saint Stephen, give you good den: I have brought you a letter, and a couple of pigeons here. [SATURNINUS reads the letter. Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him presently. Clo. How much money must I have?
Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd.
Clo. Hang'd! By'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a fair end.
Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
I know from whence this same device proceeds?
May this be borne ?-as if his traitorous sons,
That died by law for murder of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully.-
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
Nor age, nor honour, shall shape privilege
For this proud mock, I'll be thy slaughter-man ;
Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
-What news with thee, Æmilius?
Em. Arm, arm, my lords; Rome never had more cause!
The Goths have gather'd head; and with a power
Of high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under condúct
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.
Sat. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
These tidings nip me; and I hang the head
As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms;
Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach:
'Tis he the common people love so much;
Myself have often overheard them say,
(When I have walked like a private man,)
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.
Tam. Why should you fear? is not your city strong?
Sat. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius;
And will revolt from me, to succour him.
Tam. King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy name.
Is the sun dimm'd, that 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 melody:
Even so may'st thou the giddy men of Rome.
Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor,
I will enchant the old Andronicus,
With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep ;'
When as the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed.
Sat. But he will not entreat his son for us."
Tam. If Tamora entreat him, then he will:
For I can smooth, and fill his aged ear
With golden promises; that were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
Go thou before, be our embassador :
[1] Honey-stalks are clover flowers, which contain a sweet juice. for cattle to overcharge themselves with clover, and die.
Say, that the emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting,
Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
Sat. Æmilius, do this message honourably :
And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
Emil. Your bidding shall I do effectually.
Tam. Now will I to that old Andronicus;
And temper him, with all the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices.
Sat. Then go successfully, and plead to him.
SCENE I.-Plains near Rome.
Luc. APPROVED warriors, and my faithful friends,
I have received letters from great Rome,
Which signify, what hate they bear their emperor,
And how desirous of our sight they are.
Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,
Imperious, and impatient of your wrongs;
And, wherein Rome hath done you any scath,
Let him make treble satisfaction.
1 Goth. Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,
Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort;
Whose high exploits, and honourable deeds,
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
Be bold in us: we'll follow where thou lead'st,-
Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day,
Led by their master to the flower'd fields,-
And be aveng'd on cursed Tamora.
Goths. And, as he saith, so say we all with him: Luc. I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
Enter a Goth, leading AARON, with his Child in his arms. 2 Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd, To gaze upon a ruinous monastery ;
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall :
I made unto the noise; when soon I heard
The crying babe controll'd with this discourse :
Peace, tawny slave; half me, and half thy dam!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
Villain, thou might'st have been an emperor :
But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
Peace, villain, peace!-even thus he rates the babe,--.
For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth;
Who, when he knows thou art the emperess' babe,
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.
With this my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
Surpriz'd him suddenly; and brought him hither,
To use as you think needful of the man.
Luc. O worthy Goth! this is the incarnate devil,
That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand:
This is the pearl that pleas'd your empress' eye;*
And here's the base fruit of his burning lust.-
Say, wall-ey'd slave, whither wouldst thou convey
This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
Why dost not speak? What! deaf? No; not a word?
A halter, soldiers; hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
Aar. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
Luc. Too like the sire for ever being good.—
First, hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;
A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
[A ladder brought, which AARON is obliged to ascend. Aar. Lucius, save the child;
And bear it from me to the emperess.
If thou do this, I'll show thee wond'rous things,
That highly may advantage thee to hear :
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
I'll speak no more; But vengeance rot you all!
Luc. Say on; and, if it please me which thou speak'st, Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd. Jar An if it please thee? why, assure thee, Lucius,
[2] Alluding to the proverb," A black man is a pearl in a fair woman's eye."
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