Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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5.6 Enter Richard Duke of York, the Earl of Warwick, and a Shepherd

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Bring forth that sorceress condemned to burn.

⌈Enter Joan la Pucelle guarded⌉

SHEPHERD

Ah, Joan, this kills thy father’s heart outright.

Have I sought every country far and near,

And now it is my chance to find thee out

Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?

Ah Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I’ll die with thee.

JOAN

Decrepit miser, base ignoble wretch,

I am descended of a gentler blood.

Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.

SHEPHERD

Out, out!—My lords, an’t please you, ‘tis not so.

I did beget her, all the parish knows.

Her mother liveth yet, can testify

She was the first fruit of my bach’lorship.

WARWICK (to Joan)

Graceless, wilt thou deny thy parentage?

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

This argues what her kind of life hath been—

Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.

SHEPHERD

Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle.

God knows thou art a collop of my flesh,

And for thy sake have I shed many a tear.

Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan.

JOAN

Peasant, avaunt! (To the English) You have suborned

this man

Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.

SHEPHERD (to the English)

‘Tis true I gave a noble to the priest

The morn that I was wedded to her mother.

(To Joan) Kneel down, and take my blessing, good my

girl.

Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time

Of thy nativity. I would the milk

Thy mother gave thee when thou sucked’st her breast

Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake.

Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs afield,

I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee.

Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?

(To the English) O burn her, burn her! Hanging is too

good. Exit

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK (to guards)

Take her away, for she hath lived too long,

To fill the world with vicious qualities.

JOAN

First let me tell you whom you have condemned:

Not one begotten of a shepherd swain,

But issued from the progeny of kings;

Virtuous and holy, chosen from above

By inspiration of celestial grace

To work exceeding miracles on earth.

I never had to do with wicked spirits;

But you that are polluted with your lusts,

Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents,

Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices—

Because you want the grace that others have,

You judge it straight a thing impossible

To compass wonders but by help of devils.

No, misconceived Joan of Arc hath been

A virgin from her tender infancy,

Chaste and immaculate in very thought,

Whose maiden-blood thus rigorously effused

Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Ay, ay, (to guards) away with her to execution.

WARWICK (to guards)

And hark ye, sirs: because she is a maid,

Spare for no faggots. Let there be enough.

Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,

That so her torture may be shortened.

JOAN

Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?

Then Joan, discover thine infirmity,

That warranteth by law to be thy privilege:

I am with child, ye bloody homicides.

Murder not then the fruit within my womb,

Although ye hale me to a violent death.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Now heaven forfend—the holy maid with child?

WARWICK (to Joan)

The greatest miracle that e’er ye wrought.

Is all your strict preciseness come to this?

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

She and the Dauphin have been ingling.

I did imagine what would be her refuge.

WARWICK

Well, go to, we will have no bastards live,

Especially since Charles must father it.

JOAN

You are deceived. My child is none of his.

It was Alençon that enjoyed my love.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Alençon, that notorious Machiavel?

It dies an if it had a thousand lives.

JOAN

O give me leave, I have deluded you.

‘Twas neither Charles nor yet the Duke I named,

But René King of Naples that prevailed.

WARWICK

A married man?—That’s most intolerable.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Why, here’s a girl; I think she knows not well—

There were so many—whom she may accuse.

WARWICK

It’s sign she hath been liberal and free.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

And yet forsooth she is a virgin pure!

(To joan) Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and

thee.

Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.

JOAN

Then lead me hence; with whom I leave my curse.

May never glorious sun reflex his beams

Upon the country where you make abode,

But darkness and the gloomy shade of death

Environ you till mischief and despair

Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.

Enter the Bishop of Winchester, now Cardinal

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK (to Joan)

Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,

Thou foul accursed minister of hell.

⌈Exit Joan, guarded⌉

WINCHESTER

Lord Regent, I do greet your excellence

With letters of commission from the King.

For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,

Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils,

Have earnestly implored a general peace

Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French,

And here at hand the Dauphin and his train

Approacheth to confer about some matter.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Is all our travail turned to this effect?

After the slaughter of so many peers,

So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers

That in this quarrel have been overthrown

And sold their bodies for their country’s benefit,

Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?

Have we not lost most part of all the towns

By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,

Our great progenitors had conquered?

O Warwick, Warwick, I foresee with grief

The utter loss of all the realm of France!

WARWICK

Be patient, York. If we conclude a peace

It shall be with such strict and severe covenants

As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.

Enter Charles the Dauphin, the Duke of Alençon, the Bastard of Orléans, and René Duke of Anjou

CHARLES

Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed

That peaceful truce shall be proclaimed in France,

We come to be informed by yourselves

What the conditions of that league must be.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes

The hollow passage of my poisoned voice

By sight of these our baleful enemies.

WINCHESTER

Charles and the rest, it is enacted thus:

That, in regard King Henry gives consent,

Of mere compassion and of lenity,

To ease your country of distressful war

And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,

You shall become true liegemen to his crown.

And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear

To pay him tribute and submit thyself,

Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him,

And still enjoy thy regal dignity.

ALENÇON

Must he be then as shadow of himself?—

Adorn his temples with a coronet,

And yet in substance and authority

Retain but privilege of a private man?

This proffer is absurd and reasonless.

CHARLES

’Tis known already that I am possessed

With more than half the Gallian territories,

And therein reverenced for their lawful king.

Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquished,

Detract so much from that prerogative

As to be called but viceroy of the whole?

No, lord ambassador, I’ll rather keep

That which I have than, coveting for more,

Be cast from possibility of all.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Insulting Charles, hast thou by secret means

Used intercession to obtain a league

And, now the matter grows to compromise,

Stand‘st thou aloof upon comparison?

Either accept the title thou usurp’st,

Of benefit proceeding from our king

And not of any challenge of desert,

Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.

RENÉ (aside to Charles)

My lord, you do not well in obstinacy

To cavil in the course of this contract.

If once it be neglected, ten to one

We shall not find like opportunity.

ALENÇON (aside to Charles)

To say the truth, it is your policy

To save your subjects from such massacre

And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen

By our proceeding in hostility;

And therefore take this compact of a truce,

Although you break it when your pleasure serves.

WARWICK

How sayst thou, Charles? Shall our condition stand?

CHARLES It shall,

Only reserved you claim no interest

In any of our towns of garrison.

RICHARD DUKE OF YORK

Then swear allegiance to his majesty,

As thou art knight, never to disobey

Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,

Thou nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.

⌈They swear⌉

So, now dismiss your army when ye please.

Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still;

For here we entertain a solemn peace. Exeunt

5.7 Enter the Earl of Suffolk, in conference with King Henry, and the Dukes of Gloucester and Exeter

KING HENRY (to Suffolk)

Your wondrous rare description, noble Earl,

Of beauteous Margaret hath astonished me.

Her virtues gracèd with external gifts

Do breed love’s settled passions in my heart,

And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts

Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide,

So am I driven by breath of her renown

Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive

Where I may have fruition of her love.

SUFFOLK

Tush, my good lord, this superficial tale

Is but a preface of her worthy praise.

The chief perfections of that lovely dame,

Had I sufficient skill to utter them,

Would make a volume of enticing lines

Able to ravish any dull conceit;

And, which is more, she is not so divine,

So full replete with choice of all delights,

But with as humble lowliness of mind

She is content to be at your command—

Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents,

To love and honour Henry as her lord.

KING HENRY

And otherwise will Henry ne‘er presume.

(To Gloucester) Therefore, my lord Protector, give

consent

That Marg’ret may be England’s royal queen.

GLOUCESTER

So should I give consent to flatter sin.

You know, my lord, your highness is betrothed

Unto another lady of esteem.

How shall we then dispense with that contract

And not deface your honour with reproach?

SUFFOLK

As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths,

Or one that, at a triumph having vowed

To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists

By reason of his adversary’s odds.

A poor earl’s daughter is unequal odds,

And therefore may be broke without offence.

GLOUCESTER

Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than that?

Her father is no better than an earl,

Although in glorious titles he excel.

SUFFOLK

Yes, my lord; her father is a king,

The King of Naples and Jerusalem,

And of such great authority in France

As his alliance will confirm our peace

And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance.

GLOUCESTER

And so the Earl of Armagnac may do,

Because he is near kinsman unto Charles.

EXETER

Beside, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower,

Where René sooner will receive than give.

SUFFOLK

A dower, my lords? Disgrace not so your King

That he should be so abject, base, and poor

To choose for wealth and not for perfect love.

Henry is able to enrich his queen,

And not to seek a queen to make him rich.

So worthless peasants bargain for their wives,

As market men for oxen, sheep, or horse.

Marriage is a matter of more worth

Than to be dealt in by attorneyship.

Not whom we will but whom his grace affects

Must be companion of his nuptial bed.

And therefore, lords, since he affects her most,

That most of all these reasons bindeth us:

In our opinions she should be preferred.

For what is wedlock forced but a hell,

An age of discord and continual strife,

Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss,

And is a pattern of celestial peace.

Whom should we match with Henry, being a king,

But Margaret, that is daughter to a king?

Her peerless feature joined with her birth

Approves her fit for none but for a king.

Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit,

More than in women commonly is seen,

Will answer our hope in issue of a king.

For Henry, son unto a conqueror,

Is likely to beget more conquerors

If with a lady of so high resolve

As is fair Margaret he be linked in love.

Then yield, my lords, and here conclude with me:

That Margaret shall be queen, and none but she.

KING HENRY

Whether it be through force of your report,

My noble lord of Suffolk, or for that

My tender youth was never yet attaint

With any passion of inflaming love,

I cannot tell; but this I am assured:

I feel such sharp dissension in my breast,

Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,

As I am sick with working of my thoughts.

Take therefore shipping; post, my lord, to France;

Agree to any covenants, and procure

That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come

To cross the seas to England and be crowned

King Henry’s faithful and anointed queen.

For your expenses and sufficient charge,

Among the people gather up a tenth.

Be gone, I say; for till you do return

I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.

(To Gloucester) And you, good uncle, banish all offence.

If you do censure me by what you were,

Not what you are, I know it will excuse

This sudden execution of my will.

And so conduct me where from company

I may revolve and ruminate my grief.

Exit ⌈with Exeter⌉

GLOUCESTER

Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last. Exit

SIIEFOLK

Thus Suffolk hath prevailed, and thus he goes

As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,

With hope to find the like event in love,

But prosper better than the Trojan did.

Margaret shall now be queen and rule the King;

But I will rule both her, the King, and realm. Exit

TITUS ANDRONICUS

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, WITH GEORGE PEELE

SHAKESPEARE’S first, most sensation-packed tragedy appeared in print, anonymously, in 1594, and a performance record dating from January of that year appears to indicate that it was then a new play. But according to its title-page it had been acted by three companies, one of which was bankrupt by the summer of 1593; and the play’s style, too, suggests that it was written earlier. During the later part of the twentieth century, scholars increasingly came round to the view that George Peele had a hand in, especially, the first act of the play. Shakespeare seems to have added a scene after its earliest performances, for Act 3, Scene 2 was first printed in the 1623 Folio. The 1594 performance record may refer to the revised play, not the original, or to the play’s first London performance after plague had closed the theatres from June 1592.

By convention, Elizabethan tragedies treated historical subjects, and Titus Andronicus is set in Rome during the fourth century AD; but its story (like that of Shakespeare’s other early tragedy, Romeo and Juliet) is fictitious. Whether Shakespeare invented it is an open question: the same tale is told in both a ballad and a chap-book which survive only in eighteenth-century versions but which could derive from pre-Shakespearian originals. Even if Shakespeare knew these works, they could have supplied only a skeletal narrative. His play’s spirit and style owe much to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, one of his favourite works of classical literature, which he actually brings on stage in Act 4, Scene I. Ovid’s tale of the rape of Philomela was certainly in Shakespeare’s mind as he wrote, and the play’s more horrific elements owe something to the Roman dramatist Seneca.

In its time, Titus Andronicus was popular, perhaps because it combines sensational incident with high-flown rhetoric of a kind that was fashionable around 1590. It tells a story of double revenge. Tamora, Queen of the Goths, seeks revenge on her captor, Titus, for the ritual slaughter of her son Alarbus; she achieves it when her other sons, Chiron and Demetrius, rape and mutilate Titus’ daughter, Lavinia. Later, Titus himself seeks revenge on Tamora and her husband, Saturninus, after Tamora’s black lover, Aaron, has falsely led him to believe that he can save his sons’ lives by allowing his own hand to be chopped off. Though he is driven to madness, Titus, with his brother Marcus and his last surviving son, Lucius, achieves a spectacular sequence of vengeance in which he cuts Tamora’s sons’ throats, serves their flesh baked in a pie to their mother, kills Lavinia to save her from her shame, and stabs Tamora to death. Then, in rapid succession, Saturninus kills Titus and is himself killed by Lucius, who, as the new Emperor, is left with Marcus to bury the dead, to punish Aaron, and ‘To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe’.

In Titus Andronicus, as in his early history plays, Shakespeare is at his most successful in the expression of grief and the portrayal of vigorously energetic evil. The play’s piling of horror upon horror can seem ludicrous, and the reader may be surprised by the apparent disjunction between terrifying events and the measured verse in which characters react; but a few remarkable modern productions have revealed that the play may still arouse pity as well as terror in its audiences.

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

SATURNINUS, eldest son of the late Emperor of Rome; later

Emperor

BASSIANUS, his brother

TITUS ANDRONICUS, a Roman nobleman, general against the Goths

LAVINIA, daughter of Titus

YOUNG LUCIUS, a boy, son of Lucius

MARCUS ANDRONICUS, a tribune of the people, Titus’ brother PUBLIUS, his son

A CAPTAIN

AEMILIUS

TAMORA, Queen of the Goths, later wife of Saturninus

AARON, a Moor, her lover

A NURSE

A CLOWN

Senators, tribunes, Romans, Goths, soldiers, and attendants

The Most Lamentable Roman Tragedy of Titus Andronicus

1.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft, and then enter below Saturninus and his followers at one door and Bassianus and his followers ⌈at the other, with drummer and colours⌉

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 that was the last

That ware the imperial diadem of Rome.

Then let my father’s honours live in me,

Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.

BASSIANUS

Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right,

If ever Bassianus, Caesar’s son,

Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,

Keep then this passage to the Capitol,

And suffer not dishonour to approach

The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,

To justice, continence, and nobility;

But let desert in pure election shine,

And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

⌈Enter⌉ Marcus Andronicus ⌈aloft⌉ with the crown

MARCUS

Princes that strive by factions and by friends

Ambitiously for rule and empery,

Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand

A special party, have by common voice

In election for the Roman empery

Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius

For many good and great deserts to Rome.

A nobler man, a braver warrior,

Lives not this day within the city walls.

He by the Senate is accited home

From weary wars against the barbarous 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 chastised with arms

Our enemies’ pride. Five times he hath returned

Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons

In coffins from the field.

And now at last, laden with honour’s spoils,

Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,

Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.

Let us entreat by honour of his name

Whom worthily you would have now succeeded,

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.

SATURNINUS

How fair the Tribune speaks to calm my thoughts.

BASSIANUS

Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy

In 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,

Gracious Lavinia, Rome’s rich ornament,

That I will here dismiss my loving friends

And to my fortunes and the people’s favour

Commit my cause in balance to be weighed.

⌈Exeunt his soldiers and followers⌉

SATURNINUS

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.

⌈Exeunt his soldiers and followers⌉

(To the Tribunes and Senators)

Rome, be as just and gracious unto me

As I am confident and kind to thee.

Open the gates and let me in.

BASSIANUS

Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.

⌈Flourish.⌉ They go up into the Senate House. Enter a Captain

CAPTAIN

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 drums and trumpets, and then enter Martius

and Mutius, two of Titus’ sons, and then ⌈men

bearing coffins⌉ covered with black, then Lucius and

Quintus, two other sons; then Titus Andronicus ⌈in

his chariot⌉ and then Tamora the Queen of Goths

and her sons Alarbus, Chiron, and Demetrius, with

Aaron the Moor and others as many as can be.

Then set down the ⌈coffins⌉, and Titus speaks

TITUS

Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!

Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his freight

Returns with precious lading to the bay

From whence at first she weighed her anchorage,

Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel bows,

To re-salute his country with his tears,

Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.

Thou great defender of this Capitol,

Stand gracious to the rites that we intend.

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 suffer’st thou thy sons unburied yet

To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?

Make way to lay them by their brethren.

They open the tomb

There greet in silence as the dead are wont,

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

O sacred receptacle of my joys,

Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many sons hast thou of mine in store

That thou wilt never render to me more!

LUCIUS

Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,

That we may hew his limbs and on a pile

Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh

Before this earthy prison of their bones,

That so the shadows 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 ⌈kneeling⌉

Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,

Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed—

A mother’s tears in passion for her son—

And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,

O, think my son to be as dear to me!

Sufficeth not that 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 country’s cause?

O, if to fight for king and commonweal

Were piety in thine, it is in these.

Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

Draw near them then in being merciful.

Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

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

TITUS

Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld

Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain

Religiously they ask a sacrifice.

To this your son is marked, and die he must

T’appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

LUCIUS

Away with him, and make a fire straight,

And with our swords upon a pile of wood

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

Exeunt Titus’ sons with Alarbus

TAMORA ⌈rising⌉

O cruel irreligious piety!

CHIRON

Was never Scythia half so barbarous.

DEMETRIUS

Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive

To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning took.

Then, madam, stand resolved; but hope withal

The selfsame 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—

When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen—

To quit her bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Enter Quintus, Marcus, Mutius, and Lucius, the sons of Andronicus, again, with bloody swords

LUCIUS

See, lord and father, how we have performed

Our Roman rites. Alarbus’ limbs are lopped

And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,

Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.

Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren

And with loud ’larums welcome them to Rome.

TITUS

Let it be so, and let Andronicus

Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

⌈Flourish.⌉ Then sound trumpets and lay the ⌈coffins⌉ in the tomb

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;

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

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.

Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,

Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms,

No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons.

Enter Lavinia

LAVINIA

In peace and honour live Lord Titus long,

My noble lord and father, live in fame.

Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears

I render for my brethren’s obsequies,

(Kneeling) And at thy feet I kneel with tears of joy

Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.

O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,

Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud.

TITUS

Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved

The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!

Lavinia, live; outlive thy father’s days

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

⌈Lavinia rises⌉

MARCUS ⌈aloft⌉

Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

TITUS

Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

MARCUS

And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,

That in your country’s service drew your swords,

But safer triumph is this funeral pomp

That hath aspired to Solon’s happiness

And triumphs over chance in honour’s bed.

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,

This palliament of white and spotless hue,

And name thee in election for the empire

With these our late-deceased emperor’s sons.

Be candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to set a head on headless Rome.

TITUS

A better head her glorious body fits

Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

What should I don this robe and trouble you?—

Be chosen with proclamations today,

Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life,

And set abroad new business for you all.

Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,

And led my country’s strength successfully,

And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons

Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms

In right and service of their noble country.

Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

But not a sceptre to control the world.

Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

MARCUS

Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

SATURNINUS

Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?

TITUS

Patience, Prince Saturninus.

SATURNINUS

Romans, do me right.

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not

Till Saturninus be Rome’s emperor.

Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell

Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts!

LUCIUS

Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee.

TITUS

Content thee, Prince. I will restore to thee

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

BASSIANUS

Andronicus, I do not flatter thee

But honour thee, and will do till I die.

My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends

I will most thankful be; and thanks to men

Of noble minds is honourable meed.

TITUS

People of Rome, and people’s tribunes here,

I ask your voices and your suffrages.

Will ye bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

TRIBUNES

To gratify the good Andronicus

And gratulate his safe return to Rome

The people will accept whom he admits.

TITUS

Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make:

That you create our 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 commonweal.

Then if you will elect by my advice,

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

MARCUS

With voices and applause of every sort,

Patricians and plebeians, we create

Lord Saturninus Rome’s great emperor,

And say, ‘Long live our Emperor Saturnine!’

⌈A long flourish while Marcus and the other

Tribunes, with Saturninus and Bassianus,

come down.

Marcus invests Saturninus in the white

palliament and hands him a sceptre⌉

SATURNINUS

Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done

To us in our election this day

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,

And will with deeds requite thy gentleness.

And for an onset, 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 Pantheon her espouse.

Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?

TITUS

It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match

I hold me highly honoured of your grace,

And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,

King and commander of our commonweal,

The wide world’s emperor, do I consecrate

My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners—

Presents well worthy Rome’s imperious lord.

Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe,

Mine honour’s ensigns humbled at thy feet.

SATURNINUS

Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.

How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts

Rome shall record; and when I do forget

The least of these unspeakable deserts,

Romans, forget your fealty to me.

TITUS (to Tamora)

Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor,

To him that for your honour and your state

Will use you nobly, and your followers.

SATURNINUS

A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue

That I would choose were I to choose anew.

Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance.

Though chance of war hath wrought this change of

cheer,

Thou com’st not to be made a scorn in Rome.

Princely shall be thy usage every way.

Rest on my word, and let not discontent

Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you

Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.

Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?

LAVINIA

Not I, my lord, sith true nobility

Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

SATURNINUS

Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go.

Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.

Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.

⌈Flourish. Exeunt Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, and Aaron the Moor⌉

BASSIANUS

Lord Titus,.by your leave, this maid is mine.

TITUS

How, sir, are you in earnest then, my lord?

BASSIANUS