Titus Andronicus & Timon of Athens (12 page)

TITUS
    How now, Lavinia?— Marcus, what means this?

Some book there is that she desires to see.

Which is it, girl, of these?— Open them, boy.—

But thou art
deeper read, and better skilled:
³³

Come, and take choice of all my library,

And so
beguile
³⁵
thy sorrow till the heavens

Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.

What book?

Why lifts she up her arms
in sequence
³⁸
thus?

MARCUS
    I think she means that there was more than one

Confederate in the
fact
⁴⁰
. Ay, more there was,

Or else to heaven she
heaves
⁴¹
them for revenge.

TITUS
    Lucius, what book is that she
tosseth
⁴²
so?

BOY
    Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s
Metamorphosis:

My mother gave it me.

MARCUS
    For love of her that’s gone,

Perhaps she
culled
⁴⁶
it from among the rest.

TITUS
    
Soft
⁴⁷
, so busily she turns the leaves!

What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?

This is the tragic tale of Philomel,

And treats of Tereus’ treason and his rape —

And rape, I fear, was root of thine
annoy.
⁵¹

MARCUS
    See, brother, see: note how she
quotes
⁵²
the leaves.

TITUS
    Lavinia, wert thou thus
surprised
⁵³
, sweet girl,

Ravished and wronged as Philomela was,

Forced in the ruthless,
vast
⁵⁵
and gloomy woods?

See, see!

Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt —

O, had we never, never hunted there! —

Patterned by that
⁵⁹
the poet here describes,

By nature made for murders and for rapes.

MARCUS
    O, why should nature build so foul a den,

Unless the gods delight in
tragedies?
⁶²

TITUS
    Give signs, sweet girl — for here are none but friends —

What Roman lord it was durst do the deed.

Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
⁶⁵

That left the camp to sin in Lucrece’ bed?

MARCUS
    Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.

Apollo, Pallas, Jove or Mercury
⁶⁸

Inspire me, that I may this treason find.

My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia.

This sandy plot is
plain
⁷¹
: guide, if thou canst,

This
after me
⁷²
. I here have writ my name

Without the help of any hand at all.

Cursed be that heart that forced us to that
shift.
⁷⁴

Write thou, good niece, and here display at last

What God will have
discovered
⁷⁶
for revenge.

Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,

That we may know the traitors and the truth!

TITUS
    O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?

‘
Stuprum
⁸⁰
, Chiron, Demetrius.’

MARCUS
    What, what? The lustful sons of Tamora

Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?

TITUS
    
Magni dominator poli
,
⁸³

Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides?

MARCUS
    O, calm thee, gentle lord, although I know

There is enough written upon this earth

To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts

And arm the minds of infants to
exclaims.
⁸⁸

My lord, kneel down with me: Lavinia, kneel:

And kneel, sweet boy, the
Roman Hector’s hope,
⁹⁰

And swear with me — as, with the woeful
fere
⁹¹

And father of that chaste dishonoured dame,

Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece’ rape —

That we will
prosecute by good advice
⁹⁴

Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,

And see their blood, or die with this
reproach.
⁹⁶

TITUS
    ’Tis sure enough,
an
⁹⁷
you knew how.

But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:

The
dam
will wake, and, if she
wind
⁹⁹
you once

She’s with the
lion
¹⁰⁰
deeply still in league,

And lulls him whilst she
playeth on her back,
¹⁰¹

And when he sleeps will she
do
what she
list.
¹⁰²

You are a
young
¹⁰³
huntsman, Marcus: let it alone,

And come. I will go get a
leaf
¹⁰⁴
of brass

And with a
gad
¹⁰⁵
of steel will write these words,

And lay it by. The angry northern wind

Will blow these sands, like
Sibyl’s leaves
¹⁰⁷
abroad,

And where’s your lesson, then? Boy, what say you?

BOY
    I say, my lord, that if I were a man,

Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe

For these bad
bondmen
¹¹¹
to the yoke of Rome.

MARCUS
    Ay, that’s my boy. Thy father hath full oft

For his ungrateful country done the like.

BOY
    And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.

TITUS
    Come, go with me into mine armoury:

Lucius, I’ll
fit
thee, and
withal
¹¹⁶
my boy

Shall carry from me to the empress’ sons

Presents that I intend to send them both.

Come, come, thou’lt do thy message, wilt thou not?

BOY
    Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

TITUS
    No, boy, not so: I’ll teach thee another course.

Lavinia, come: Marcus, look to my house:

Lucius and I’ll go
brave it
¹²³
at the court.

Ay,
marry
, will we, sir, and we’ll
be waited on.
¹²⁴

MARCUS
    O heavens, can you hear a good man groan

And not relent or not
compassion
¹²⁶
him?

Marcus, attend him in his
ecstasy
¹²⁷

That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart

Than foemen’s marks upon his battered shield,

But yet so just that he will not revenge.

Revenge, the heavens, for old Andronicus!

CHIRON
    Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius:

He hath some message to deliver us.

AARON
    Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

BOY
    My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

I greet your honours from Andronicus.—

And pray the Roman gods
confound
⁶
you both.

DEMETRIUS
    
Gramercy,
⁷
lovely Lucius. What’s the news?

BOY
    That you are both
deciphered
⁸
, that’s the news,

For villains marked with rape.— May it please you,

My grandsire,
well advised
¹⁰
, hath sent by me

The goodliest weapons of his armoury

To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome, for so he bade me say,

And so I do, and with his gifts present

Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,

You may be armèd and
appointed
¹⁶
well.

And so I leave you both— like bloody villains.

DEMETRIUS
    What’s here? A scroll, and written round about?

Let’s see:

‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus
,
²⁰

Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.’

CHIRON
    O, ’tis a verse in Horace, I know it well:

I read it in the
grammar
²³
long ago.

AARON
    Ay,
just
²⁴
: a verse in Horace, right, you have it.—

Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!

Here’s
no sound jest!
²⁶
The old man hath found their guilt,

And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines

That wound beyond their feeling to the quick.
²⁸

But were our
witty
empress well
afoot
²⁹

She would applaud Andronicus’
conceit:
³⁰

But let her rest in
her unrest
³¹
awhile.—

And now, young lords, was’t not a
happy
³²
star

Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,

Captives, to be advancèd to this height?

It did me good before the palace gate

To
brave
³⁶
the tribune in his brother’s hearing.

DEMETRIUS
    But me more good to see so great a lord

Basely
insinuate
³⁸
and send us gifts.

AARON
    Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?

Did you not use his daughter very
friendly?
⁴⁰

DEMETRIUS
    I would we had a thousand Roman dames

At such a bay
,
by turn
to
serve
⁴²
our lust.

CHIRON
    A charitable wish and full of love.

AARON
    Here lacks but your mother for to say ‘Amen’.

CHIRON
    And that would she for twenty thousand
more.
⁴⁵

DEMETRIUS
    Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods

For our belovèd mother in her pains.

AARON
    Pray to the devils: the gods have given us over.

DEMETRIUS
    Why do the emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?

CHIRON
    
Belike
⁵⁰
for joy the emperor hath a son.

DEMETRIUS
    Soft, who comes here?

NURSE
    Good morrow, lords.

O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?

AARON
    Well,
more
or less, or
ne’er a whit
⁵⁴
at all:

Here Aaron is, and
what
⁵⁵
with Aaron now?

NURSE
    O gentle Aaron, we are all
undone.
⁵⁶

Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

AARON
    Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!

What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?

NURSE
    O, that which I would hide from heaven’s eye,

Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace!

She is delivered, lords, she is delivered.

AARON
    To whom?

NURSE
    I mean, she is brought abed.

AARON
    Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

NURSE
    A devil.

AARON
    Why, then she is the devil’s dam: a joyful
issue.
⁶⁷

NURSE
    A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:

Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad

Amongst the
fair-faced breeders
of our
clime.
⁷⁰

The empress sends it thee,
thy stamp, thy seal,
⁷¹

And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.

AARON
    Out, you whore! Is black so base a hue?—