TITUS ANDRONICUS

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 Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal To do myself this reason and this right. MARCUS Suum cuique is our Roman justice. This prince in justice seizeth but his own. LUCIUS And that he will and shall, if Lucius live. TITUS Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor’s guard? MUTIUS Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I’ll keep this door safe. Exeunt Bassianus, Marcus, Quintus, and Martius, with Lavinia (To Titus) My lord, you pass not here. TITUS What, villain boy, Barr’st me my way in Rome? He attacks Mutius MUTIUS Help, Lucius, help! Titus kills him LUCIUS (to Titus) My lord, you are unjust; and more than so, In wrongful 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. Exit with Mutius’ body Enter aloft Saturninus the Emperor with Tamora

and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, and

Aaron the Moor TITUS Follow, my lord, and I’ll soon bring her back. SATURNINUS No, Titus, no. The Emperor needs her not, Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock. I’ll trust by leisure him that mocks me once, Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all thus to dishonour me. Was none in Rome to make a stale But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine That saidst I begged the empire at thy hands. TITUS O monstrous, what reproachful words are these? SATURNINUS But go thy ways, go give that changing piece 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 wounded heart. SATURNINUS And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, That like the stately Phoebe ‘mongst her nymphs Dost overshine the gallant’st dames of Rome, If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Empress of Rome. Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? And here I swear by all the Roman gods, Sith priest and holy water are so near, And tapers burn so bright, and everything In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, Or climb my palace, till from forth this place I lead espoused my bride along with me. TAMORA And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths She will a handmaid be to his desires, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. SATURNINUS Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered. There shall we consummate our spousal rites. Exeunt all but Titus TITUS I am not bid to wait upon this bride. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonoured thus and challenged of wrongs? Enter Marcus and Titus’ sons Lucius, Quintus, and

Martius, ⌈carrying Mutius’ body⌉ MARCUS O Titus, see, O see 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, confederates in the deed That hath dishonoured all our family; Unworthy brother and unworthy sons! LUCIUS But let us give him burial as becomes, Give Mutius burial with our brethren. TITUS Traitors, away, he rests not in this tomb. This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified. 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 My lord, this is impiety in you. My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him. He must be buried with his brethren. ⌈QUINTUS and MARTIUS⌉ And shall, or him we will accompany. TITUS ‘And shall’? What villain was it spake that word? ⌈QUINTUS⌉ He that would vouch it in any place but here. TITUS What, would you bury him in my despite? 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 mine honour thou hast wounded. My foes I do repute you every one, So trouble me no more, but get you gone. ⌈MARTIUS⌉ He is not with himself, let us withdraw. ⌈QUINTUS⌉ Not I, till Mutius’ bones be buried. Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius kneel MARCUS Brother, for in that name doth nature plead— ⌈QUINTUS⌉ 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 nest, 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 graciously plead for his funerals. Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy, Be barred his entrance here. TITUS Rise, Marcus, rise. The dismall‘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 Mutius in the tomb LUCIUS There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends’, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. 385 ALL ⌈BUT TITUS⌉ (kneeling) No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame, that died in virtue’s cause. Exeunt ⌈all but Marcus and Titus⌉ MARCUS My lord—to step out of these dreary dumps— How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? TITUS I know not, Marcus, but I know it is— Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell. Is she not then beholden to the man That brought her for this high good turn so far? ⌈MARCUS⌉ Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora,

and her two sons (Chiron and Demetrius), with

Aaron the Moor at one door.

Enter at the other door Bassianus and Lavinia with

⌈Lucius, Quintus, and Martius⌉ SATURNINUS So, Bassianus, you have played your prize. God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride. BASSIANUS And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave. SATURNINUS Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. BASSIANUS ‘Rape’ call you it, my lord, to seize my own— My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine. SATURNINUS ‘Tis good, sir; you are very short with us. But if we live we’ll be as sharp with you. BASSIANUS My lord, what I have done, as best I may Answer I must, and shall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know: 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, Saturnine, That hath expressed himself in all his deeds A father and a friend to thee and Rome. TITUS Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds. ‘Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me. ⌈He kneels⌉ Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge How I have loved and honoured Saturnine! TAMORA (to Saturninus) My worthy lord, if ever Tamora Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak indifferently for all; And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. SATURNINUS What, madam—be dishonoured openly And basely put it up without revenge? TAMORA Not so, my lord. The gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you. But on mine honour dare I undertake For good lord Titus’ innocence in all, Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs. Then at my suit look graciously on him. Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. (Aside to Saturninus) My lord, be ruled by me, be won at last, Dissemble all your griefs and discontents. You are but newly planted in your throne; Lest then the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus’ part, And so supplant you for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: I’ll find a day to massacre them all, And raze their faction and their family, The cruel father and his traitorous sons To whom I sued for my dear son’s life, And make them know what ’tis to let a queen Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. (Aloud) Come, come, sweet Emperor; come, Andronicus, Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. SATURNINUS Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevailed. TITUS (rising) I thank your majesty and her, my lord, 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 mine 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 tractable. And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia; By my advice, all humbled on your knees, You shall ask pardon of his majesty. ⌈Bassianus⌉, Lavinia, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius kneel ⌈LOCIUS⌉ We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness That what we did was mildly as we might, Tend’ring our sister’s honour and our own. MARCUS ⌈kneeling⌉ That on mine honour here do I protest. SATURNINUS Away, and talk not, trouble us no more. TAMORA Nay, nay, sweet Emperor, we must all be friends. The Tribune and his nephews kneel for grace. I will not be denied; sweetheart, look back. SATURNINUS Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother’s here, And at my lovely Tamora’s entreats, I do remit these young men’s heinous faults. Stand up! Marcus, Bassianus, Lavinia, and Titus’ sons stand Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, I found a friend, and sure as death I swore I would not part a bachelor from the priest. Come, if the Emperor’s court can feast two brides You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. TITUS Tomorrow an it please your majesty To hunt the panther and the hart with me, With horn and hound we’ll give your grace bonjour. SATURNINUS Be it so, Titus, and gramercy, too. ⌈Flourish. Exeunt⌉

2.1 ⌈Enter Aaron alone.⌉ AARON Now climbeth Tamora Olympus’ top, Safe out of fortune’s shot, and sits aloft, Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash, Advanced above pale envy’s threat’ning reach. As when the golden sun salutes the morn And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach And overlooks the highest-peering hills, So Tamora. Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long Hast prisoner held fettered in amorous chains, And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold To wait upon this new-made empress. To wait, said I?—to wanton with this queen, This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, This siren that will charm Rome’s Saturnine And see his shipwreck and his commonweal’s. Hollo, what storm is this? Enter Chiron and Demetrius, braving DEMETRIUS Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge And manners to intrude where I am graced And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be. CHIRON Demetrius, thou dost overween in all, And so in this, to bear me down with braves. ‘Tis not the difference of a year or two Makes me less gracious, or thee more fortunate. I am as able and as fit as thou To serve, and to deserve my mistress’ grace, And that my sword upon thee shall approve, And plead my passions for Lavinia’s love. AARON (aside) Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace. DEMETRIUS Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends? Go to, have your lath glued within your sheath Till you know better how to handle it. CHIRON Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. DEMETRIUS Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? They draw AARON Why, how now, lords? So near the Emperor’s palace dare ye draw And maintain such a quarrel openly? Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge. I would not for a million of gold The cause were known to them it most concerns, Nor would your noble mother for much more Be so dishonoured in the court of Rome. For shame, put up. DEMETRIUS Not I, till I have sheathed My rapier in his bosom, and withal Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. CHIRON For that I am prepared and full resolved, Foul-spoken coward, that thund‘rest with thy tongue, And with thy weapon nothing dar’st perform. AARON Away, I say. Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, This petty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous It is to jet upon 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? Young lords, beware; and should the Empress know This discord’s 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. DEMETRIUS Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice. Lavinia is thine elder brother’s hope. AARON Why, are ye mad? Or know ye 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 Aaron, a thousand deaths Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. AARON To achieve her how? DEMETRIUS Why makes thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. What, man, more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of, and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know. Though Bassianus be the Emperor’s brother, Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge. AARON (aside) Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. DEMETRIUS Then why should he despair that knows to court it With words, fair looks, and liberality? What, hast not thou full often struck a doe And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose? AARON Why then, it seems some certain snatch or so Would serve your turns. CHIRON Ay, so the turn were served. DEMETRIUS Aaron, thou hast hit it. AARON Would you had hit it too, Then should not we be tired with this ado. Why, hark ye, hark ye, and are you such fools To square for this? Would it offend you then That both should speed? CHIRON Faith, not me. DEMETRIUS Nor me, so I were one. AARON For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar. ‘Tis policy and stratagem must do That you affect, and so must you resolve That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may. Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love. A speedier course than ling’ring languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path. My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; There will the lovely Roman ladies troop. The forest walks are wide and spacious, And many unfrequented plots there are, Fitted by kind for rape and villainy. Single you thither then this dainty doe, And strike her home by force, if not by words, This way or not at all stand you in hope. Come, come; our Empress, with her sacred wit To villainy and vengeance consecrate, Will we acquaint with all what we intend, And she shall file our engines with advice That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes’ height advance you both. The Emperor’s court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes and ears, The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull. There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns. There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven’s eye, And revel in Lavinia’s treasury. CHIRON Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. DEMETRIUS Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, Per Styga, per manes vehor. Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sons (Quintus, Lucius, and Martius), and Marcus, making a noise with hounds and horns
TITUS	The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant and the woods are green. Uncouple here, and let us make a bay And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride, And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter’s peal, That all the court may echo with the noise. Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, To attend the Emperor’s person carefully. I have been troubled in my sleep this night, But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal; then enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and their attendants Many good-morrows to your majesty. Madam, to you as many, and as good. I promised your grace a hunter’s peal.
SATURNINUS	And you have rung it lustily, my lords, Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
BASSIANUS	Lavinia, how say you?
LAVINIA	I say no. I have been broad awake two hours and more.
SATURNINUS	Come on then, horse and chariots let us have, And to our sport. (To Tamora) Madam, now shall ye see Our Roman hunting.
MARCUS	I have dogs, my lord, Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, And climb the highest promontory top.
TITUS	And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows o’er the plain.
DEMETRIUS	(aside) Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron alone, with gold
AARON	He that had wit would think that I had none, To bury so much gold under 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. And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest That have their alms out of the Empress’ chest. He hides the gold.
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora alone to the Moor
TAMORA	My lovely Aaron, wherefore look‘st thou sad When everything doth make a gleeful boast? The birds chant melody on every bush, The snakes lies rolled in the cheerful sun, The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequered shadow on the ground. Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise, And after conflict such as was supposed The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed When with a happy storm they were surprised, And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave, We may, each wreathed in the other’s arms, Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurse’s song Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
AARON	Madam, though Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine. What signifies my deadly-standing eye, My silence, and my cloudy melancholy, My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls Even as an adder when she doth unroll 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 hammering in my head. 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 today, Thy sons make pillage of her chastity And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood. Seest thou this letter? (Giving a letter) Take it up, I pray thee, And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll. Now question me no more. We are espied. Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, Which dreads not yet their lives’ destruction.
(didascalia)	Enter Bassianus and Lavinia
TAMORA	(aside to Aaron) Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
AARON	(aside to Tamora) No more, great Empress; Bassianus comes. Be cross with him, and I’ll go fetch thy sons To back thy quarrels, whatsoe’er they be. Exit
BASSIANUS	Who have we here? Rome’s royal empress Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop? Or is it Dian, habited like her Who hath abandoned her holy groves To see the general hunting in this forest?
TAMORA	Saucy controller of my private steps, Had I the power that some say Dian had, Thy temples should be planted presently With horns, as was Actaeon’s, and the hounds Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, Unmannerly intruder as thou art!
LAVINIA	Under your patience, gentle Empress, ‘Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning, And to be doubted that your Moor and you Are singled forth to try experiments. Jove shield your husband from his hounds today— ‘Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
BASSIANUS	Believe me, Queen, your swart Cimmerian Doth make your honour of his body’s hue, Spotted, detested, and abominable. Why are you sequestered from all your train, Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, And wandered hither to an obscure plot, Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, If foul desire had not conducted you?
LAVINIA	And being intercepted in your sport, Great reason that my noble lord be rated For sauciness. (To Bassianus) I pray you, let us hence, And let her joy her raven-coloured love. This valley fits the purpose passing well.
BASSIANUS	The King my brother shall have note of this.
LAVINIA	Ay, for these slips have made him noted long. Good King, to be so mightily abused!
TAMORA	Why have I patience to endure all this?
(didascalia)	Enter Chiron and Demetrius
DEMETRIUS	How now, dear sovereign and our gracious mother, Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?
TAMORA	Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? These two have ‘ticed me hither to this place. A barren detested vale you see it is; The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe. Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven, And when they showed me this abhorred pit They told me here at dead time of the night A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins Would make such fearful and confused cries As any mortal body hearing it Should straight fall mad or else die suddenly. No sooner had they told this hellish tale But straight they told me they would bind me here Unto the body of a dismal yew And leave me to this miserable death. And then they called me foul adulteress, Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest 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 be ye not henceforward called my children.
DEMETRIUS	This is a witness that I am thy son. He stabs Bassianus
CHIRON	And this for me, struck home to show my strength. He stabs Bassianus, who dies.
(didascalia)	Tamora turns to Lavinia
LAVINIA	Ay, come, Semiramis—nay, barbarous Tamora, For no name fits thy nature but thy own.
TAMORA	(to Chiron) Give me the poniard. You shall know, my boys, Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong.
DEMETRIUS	Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her. First thresh the corn, then after burn the straw. This minion stood upon her chastity, Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, And with that quaint hope braves your mightiness. And shall she carry this unto her grave?
CHIRON	An if she do I would I were an eunuch. Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
TAMORA	But when ye have the honey ye desire Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
CHIRON	I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure. Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, thou bearest a woman’s face—
TAMORA	I will not hear her speak. Away with her!
LAVINIA	Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
DEMETRIUS	(to Tamora) Listen, fair madam, let it be your glory To see her tears, but be your heart to them As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
LAVINIA	When did the tiger’s young ones teach the dam? O, do not learn her wrath! She taught it thee. The milk thou sucked’st from her did turn to marble, Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. Yet every mother breeds not sons alike. (To Chiron) Do thou entreat her show a woman’s pity.
CHIRON	What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
LAVINIA	’Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a lark. Yet have I heard—O, could I find it now!— The lion, moved with pity, did endure To have his princely paws pared all away. Some say that ravens foster forlorn children The whilst their own birds famish in their nests. O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.
TAMORA	I know not what it means. Away with her!
LAVINIA	O, let me teach thee for my father’s sake, That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee. Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
TAMORA	Hadst thou in person ne’er offended me Even for his sake am I pitiless. Remember, boys, I poured forth tears in vain To save your brother from the sacrifice, But fierce Andronicus would not relent. Therefore away with her, and use her as you will— The worse to her, the better loved of me.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, be called a gentle queen, And with thine own hands kill me in this place; For ’tis not life that I have begged so long; Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
TAMORA	What begg’st thou then, fond woman? Let me go.
LAVINIA	’Tis present death I beg, and one thing more That womanhood denies my tongue to tell. O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust, And tumble me into some loathsome pit Where never man’s eye may behold my body. Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
TAMORA	So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee. No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
DEMETRIUS	(to Lavinia) Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long.
LAVINIA	No grace, no womanhood—ah, beastly creature, The blot and enemy to our general name, Confusion fall—
CHIRON	Nay then, I’ll stop your mouth. (To Demetrius) Bring thou her husband. This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. Demetrius and Chiron cast Bassianus’ body into the
(didascalia)	pit and cover the mouth of it with branches, then
CHIRON	exeunt dragging Lavinia
TAMORA	Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure. Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed Till all the Andronici be made away. Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron with Quintus
TAMORA	and Martius, two of Titus’ sons
AARON	Come on, my lords, the better foot before. Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
QUINTUS	My sight is very dull, whate’er it bodes.
MARTIUS	And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame, Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. He falls into the pit
QUINTUS	What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this, Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers? A very fatal place it seems to me. Speak, brother. Hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
MARTIUS	O brother, with the dismall’st object hurt That ever eye with sight made heart lament.
AARON	(aside) Now will I fetch the King to find them here, That he thereby may have a likely guess How these were they that made away his brother.
(didascalia)	Exit
MARTIUS	Why dost not comfort me and help me out From this unhallowed and bloodstained hole?
QUINTUS	I am surprised with an uncouth fear. A chilling sweat o’erruns my trembling joints; My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
MARTIUS	To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
QUINTUS	Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise. O, tell me who it is, for ne’er till now Was I a child to fear I know not what.
MARTIUS	Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb, In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINTUS	If it be dark how dost thou know ’tis he?
MARTIUS	Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring that lightens all this hole, Which like a taper in some monument Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks And shows the ragged entrails of this pit. So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. O brother, help me with thy fainting hand— If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath— Out of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
QUINTUS	Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, I may be plucked into the swallowing womb Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave. I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink,
MARTIUS	Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
QUINTUS	Thy hand once more, I will not loose again Till thou art here aloft or I below. Thou canst not come to me; I come to thee. He falls into the pit.
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus the Emperor with attendants,
QUINTUS	and Aaron the Moor
SATURNINUS	Along with me! I’ll see what hole is here, And what he is that now is leapt into it. He speaks into the pit Say, who art thou that lately didst descend Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
MARTIUS	The unhappy sons of old Andronicus, Brought hither in a most unlucky hour To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
SATURNINUS	My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest. He and his lady both are at the lodge Upon the north side of this pleasant chase. ‘Tis not an hour since I left them there.
MARTIUS	We know not where you left them all alive, But, out alas, here have we found him dead!
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora, Titus Andronicus, and Lucius
TAMORA	Where is my lord the King?
SATURNINUS	Here, Tamora, though gripped with killing grief.
TAMORA	Where is thy brother Bassianus?
SATURNINUS	Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound. Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
TAMORA	Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, The complot of this timeless tragedy, And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. She giveth Saturnine a letter
SATURNINUS	(reads) ‘An if we miss to meet him handsomely, Sweet huntsman—Bassianus ’tis we mean— Do thou so much as dig the grave for him. Thou know‘st our meaning. Look for thy reward Among the nettles at the elder tree Which overshades the mouth of that same pit Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.’ O Tamora, was ever heard the like! This is the pit, and this the elder tree. Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out That should have murdered Bassianus here.
AARON	My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
SATURNINUS	(to Titus) Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind, Have here bereft my brother of his life. Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison. There let them bide until we have devised Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
TAMORA	What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! How easily murder is discovered! Attendants drag Quintus, Martius, and Bassianus’ body from the pit
TITUS	(kneeling) High Emperor, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed: That this fell fault of my accursed sons— Accursed if the fault be proved in them—
SATURNINUS	If it be proved? You see it is apparent. Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
TAMORA	Andronicus himself did take it up.
TITUS	I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail, For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow They shall be ready at your highness’ will To answer their suspicion with their lives.
SATURNINUS	Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me. Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers. Let them not speak a word—the guilt is plain; For by my soul, were there worse end than death
(didascalia)	That end upon them should be executed. Exit
TAMORA	Andronicus, I will entreat the King. Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough.
(didascalia)	TITUS rising
TAMORA	Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Empress’ sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and ravished
DEMETRIUS	So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, Who ‘twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.
CHIRON	Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
DEMETRIUS	See how with signs and tokens she can scrawl.
CHIRON	(to Lavinia) Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
DEMETRIUS	She hath no tongue to call nor hands to wash, And so let’s leave her to her silent walks.
CHIRON	An ‘twere my cause I should go hang myself.
DEMETRIUS	If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Chiron and Demetrius
(didascalia)	Wind horns. Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia
MARCUS	Who is this—my niece that flies away so fast? Cousin, a word. Where is your husband? If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me. If I do wake, some planet strike me down That I may slumber an eternal sleep. Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, And might not gain so great a happiness As half thy love. Why dost not speak to me? Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind, Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, Coming and going with thy honey breath. But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. Ah, now thou turn‘st away thy face for shame, And notwithstanding all this loss of blood, As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan’s face Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. Shall I speak for thee? Shall I say ’tis so? O that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast, That I might rail at him to ease my mind! Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. Fair Philomel, why she but lost her tongue And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind. But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee. A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, And he hath cut those pretty fingers off That could have better sewed than Philomel. O, had the monster seen those lily hands Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, He would not then have touched them for his life. Or had he heard the heavenly harmony Which that sweet tongue hath made, He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep, As Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet. Come, let us go and make thy father blind, For such a sight will blind a father’s eye. One hour’s storm will drown the fragrant meads: What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes? Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee. O, could our mourning ease thy misery! Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Judges, Tribunes, and Senators with Titus’ two sons, Martius and Quintus, bound, passing over the stage to the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading
TITUS	Hear me, grave fathers; noble Tribunes, stay. For pity of mine 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 bitter tears which now you see Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks, Be pitiful to my condemned sons, Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought. For two-and-twenty sons I never wept, Because they died in honour’s lofty bed. Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him For these two, Tribunes, in the dust I write My heart’s deep languor and my soul’s sad tears. Let my tears stanch the earth’s dry appetite; My sons’ sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Titus
TITUS	O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain That shall distil from these two ancient ruins Than youthful April shall with all his showers. In summer’s drought I’ll drop upon thee still. In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow And keep eternal springtime on thy face, So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn
TITUS	Oreverend Tribunes, O 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	My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
TITUS	Why, ‘tis no matter, man. If they did hear, They would not mark me; if they did mark, They would not pity me; yet plead I must. Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones, Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes For that they will not intercept my tale. When I do weep they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me, And were they but attired in grave weeds Rome could afford no tribunes like to these. A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than stones. A stone is silent and offendeth not, And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn?
LUCIUS	To rescue my two brothers from their death, For which attempt the Judges have pronounced My everlasting doom of banishment.
(didascalia)	TITUS rising
LUCIUS	O happy man, they have befriended thee! Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? Tigers 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?
(didascalia)	Enter Marcus with Lavinia
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 see it then.
MARCUS	This was thy daughter.
TITUS	Why, Marcus, so she is.
LUCIUS	(falling on his knees) Ay me, this object kills me.
TITUS	Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.
(didascalia)	Lucius rises
TITUS	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; And they have nursed this woe in feeding life; In bootless prayer have they been held up, And they have served me to effectless use. Now all the service I require of them Is that the one will help to cut the other. ’Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands, For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
LUCIUS	Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyred thee.
MARCUS	O, that delightful engine of her thoughts, That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence, Is torn from forth that pretty 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 deed?
MARCUS	O, thus I found her, straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer That hath received some unrecuring wound.
TITUS	It was my dear, and he that wounded her Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead; For now I stand as one upon a rock Environed with a wilderness of sea, Who marks the waxing 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 woes. But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. Had I but seen thy picture in this plight It would have madded me. What shall I do Now I behold thy lively body so? Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears, Nor 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. Look, Marcus, ah, son Lucius, look on her! When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
MARCUS	Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband; Perchance because she knows them innocent.
TITUS	If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, Because the law hath ta’en revenge on them. No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips; Or make some sign how I may do 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 miry 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 made a brine pit with our bitter tears? Or shall we cut away our hands like thine? Or shall we bite our tongues, 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, To make us wondered at in time to come.
LUCIUS	Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
MARCUS	Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
TITUS	Ah, Marcus, Marcus, brother, well I wot Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
LUCIUS	Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
TITUS	Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs. Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say That to her brother which I said to thee. His napkin with his true tears all bewet Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. O, what a sympathy of woe is this— As far from help as limbo is from bliss.
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron the Moor, alone
AARON	Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word: that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King. He for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
TITUS	O gracious Emperor! O gentle Aaron, 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. Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
LUCIUS	Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down 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 brothers’ lives.
MARCUS	Which of your hands hath not defended Rome And reared aloft the bloody battleaxe, Writing destruction on the enemy’s castle? O, none of both but are of high desert. My hand hath been but idle; let it serve To ransom my two nephews from their death, Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
AARON	Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come.
MARCUS	My hand shall go.
LUCIUS	By heaven it shall not go.
TITUS	Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
LUCIUS	Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
MARCUS	And for our father’s sake and mother’s care, Now let me show a brother’s love to thee.
TITUS	Agree between you. I will spare my hand.
LUCIUS	Then I’ll go fetch an axe.
MARCUS	But I will use the axe.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucius and Marcus
TITUS	Come hither, Aaron. I’ll deceive them both. Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
AARON	(aside) If that be called deceit, I will be honest And never whilst I live deceive men so. But I’ll deceive you in another sort, And that you’ll say ere half an hour pass. He cuts off Titus’ hand.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius and Marcus again
TITUS	Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched. Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand. Tell him it was a hand that warded him 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.
AARON	I go, Andronicus; and for thy hand Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. (Aside) Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace: Aaron will have his soul black like his face. Exit
TITUS	O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven And bow this feeble ruin to the earth. He kneels If any power pities wretched tears, To that I call. (To Lavinia, who kneels) What, wouldst thou kneel with me? Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers, Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
MARCUS	O brother, speak with possibility, And do not break into these deep extremes.
TITUS	Is not my sorrows deep, having no bottom? Then be my passions bottomless with them.
MARCUS	But yet let reason govern thy lament.
TITUS	If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes. When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o‘erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoll’n face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth. Then must my sea be moved with her sighs, Then must my earth with her continual tears Become a deluge overflowed and drowned, Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them. Then give me leave, for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand
MESSENGER	Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor. Here are the heads of thy two noble sons, And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back— Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked, That woe is me to think upon thy woes More than remembrance of my father’s death.
(didascalia)	He sets down the heads and hand. Exit
MARCUS	Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell. These miseries are more than may be borne. To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal, But sorrow flouted at is double death.
LUCIUS	Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound And yet detested life not shrink thereat— That ever death should let life bear his name Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! Lavinia kisses Titus
MARCUS	Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless As frozen water to a starved snake.
TITUS	When will this fearful slumber have an end?
MARCUS	Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus. Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads, Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here, Thy other banished son with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodless, and thy brother, I, Even like a stony image, cold and numb. Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs. Rend 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 storm. Why art thou still?
TITUS	Ha, ha, ha!
MARCUS	Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
TITUS	Why, I have not another tear to shed. Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes And make them blind with tributary tears. Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?— For these two heads do seem to speak to me And threat me I shall never come to bliss Till all these mischiefs be returned again Even in their throats that hath committed them. Come, let me see what task I have to do.
(didascalia)	He and Lavinia rise
TITUS	You heavy people, circle me about, That I may turn me to each one of you And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. Marcus, Lucius, and Lavinia circle Titus. He pledges them The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head, And in this hand the other will I bear. And Lavinia, thou shalt be employed. Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thine arms. As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight. Thou art an exile and thou must not stay. Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there, And if ye love me, as I think you do, Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do. They kiss. Exeunt all but Lucius
LUCIUS	Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father, The woefull‘st man that ever lived in Rome. Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again; He loves his pledges dearer than his life. Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister: O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs. If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs And make proud Saturnine and his empress Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen. Now will I to the Goths and raise a power, To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine. Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	A banquet. Enter Titus Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia, and the boy (young Lucius)
TITUS	So, so, now sit, and look you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
(didascalia)	They sit
TITUS	Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot. Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands, And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannize upon my breast, Who, when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down. He beats his breast (To Lavinia) Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs, When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still! Wound it with sighing, girl; kill it with groans, Or get some little knife between thy teeth And just against thy heart make thou a hole, That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall May run into that sink and, soaking in, Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
MARCUS	Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life.
TITUS	How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. What violent hands can she lay on her life? Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o’er How Troy was burnt and he made miserable? O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands, Lest we remember still that we have none. Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk, As if we should forget we had no hands If Marcus did not name the word of hands! Come, let’s fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this. Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says. I can interpret all her martyred signs. She says she drinks no other drink but tears, Brewed with her sorrow, mashed upon her cheeks. Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought. In thy dumb action will I be as perfect As begging hermits in their holy prayers. Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven, Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, But I of these will wrest an alphabet, And by still practice learn to know thy meaning.
YOUNG LUCIUS	Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments. Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
MARCUS	Alas, the tender boy in passion moved Doth weep to see his grandsire’s heaviness.
TITUS	Peace, tender sapling, thou art made of tears, And tears will quickly melt thy life away. Marcus strikes the dish with a knife What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
MARCUS	At that that I have killed, my lord—a fly.
TITUS	Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill’st my heart. Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny. A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus’ brother. Get thee gone. I see thou art not for my company.
MARCUS	Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly.
TITUS	‘But’? How if that fly had a father, brother? How would he hang his slender gilded wings And buzz lamenting dirges in the air! Poor harmless fly, That with his pretty buzzing melody Came here to make us merry—and thou hast killed him!
MARCUS	Pardon me, sir, it was a black ill-favoured fly, Like to the Empress’ Moor. Therefore I killed him.
TITUS	O, O, O! Then pardon me for reprehending thee, For thou hast done a charitable deed. Give me thy knife. I will insult on him, Flattering myself as if it were the Moor Come hither purposely to poison me. He takes a knife and strikes There’s for thyself, and that’s for Tamora. Ah, sirrah! Yet I think we are not brought so low But that between us we can kill a fly That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
MARCUS	Alas, poor man! Grief has so wrought on him He takes false shadows for true substances.
TITUS	Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me. I’ll to thy closet and go read with thee Sad stories chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me. Thy sight is young, And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius’ son and Lavinia running after him, and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm. Enter Titus and Marcus
YOUNG LUCIUS	Help, grandsire, help! My aunt Lavinia Follows me everywhere, I know not why. Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes. Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
(didascalia)	He drops his books
MARCUS	Stand by me, Lucius. Do not fear thine aunt.
TITUS	She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
YOUNG LUCIUS	Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
MARCUS	What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
(didascalia)	Fear her not, Lucius; somewhat doth she mean. MARCUS
TITUS	See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee. Somewhither would she have thee go with her. Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care Read to her sons than she hath read to thee Sweet poetry and Tully’s Orator. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
YOUNG LUCIUS	My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her; For I have heard my grandsire say full oft Extremity of griefs would make men mad, And I have read that Hecuba of Troy Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear, Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt Loves me as dear as e’er my mother did, And would not but in fury fright my youth, Which made me down to throw my books and fly, Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt; And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
MARCUS	Lucius, I will. Lavinia turns the books over with her stumps
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. (To Lavinia) But thou art deeper read and better skilled. Come and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.— Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
MARCUS	I think she means that there were more than one Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was, Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
TITUS	Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
YOUNG LUCIUS	Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s Metamorphoses. My mother gave it me.
MARCUS	For love of her that’s gone, Perhaps, she culled it from among the rest.
TITUS	Soft, so busily she turns the leaves. Help her. 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 thy annoy.
MARCUS	See, brother, see. Note how she quotes the leaves.
TITUS	Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, Ravished and wronged as Philomela was, Forced in the ruthless, vast, 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 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?
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, That left the camp to sin in Lucrece’ bed?
MARCUS	Sit down, sweet niece. Brother, sit down by me. They sit Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury Inspire me, that I may this treason find. My lord, look here. Look here, Lavinia. This sandy plot is plain. Guide if thou canst This after me. He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet and mouth I here have writ my name Without the help of any hand at all. Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift! Write thou, good niece, and here display at last What God will have discovered for revenge. Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, That we may know the traitors and the truth. She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
(didascalia)	TITUS ‘Stuprum—Chiron—Demetrius.’
MARCUS	What, what!—The lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous bloody deed?
TITUS	Magni dominator poli, 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. My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel; And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector’s hope, All kneel And swear with me—as, with the woeful fere And father of that chaste dishonoured dame Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece’ rape— That we will prosecute by good advice Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths, And see their blood, or die with this reproach. They rise
TITUS	’Tis sure enough an you knew how, But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware. The dam will wake, and if she wind ye once She’s with the lion deeply still in league, And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, And when he sleeps will she do what she list. You are a young huntsman, Marcus. Let alone, And come, I will go get a leaf of brass And with a gad of steel will write these words, And lay it by. The angry northern wind Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad, And where’s our lesson then? Boy, what say you?
YOUNG LUCIUS	I say, my lord, that if I were a man Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
MARCUS	Ay, that’s my boy! Thy father hath full oft For his ungrateful country done the like.
YOUNG LUCIUS	And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
TITUS	Come go with me into mine armoury. Lucius, I’ll fit thee; and withal, my boy, Shall carry from me to the Empress’ sons Presents that I intend to send them both. Come, come, thou’lt do my message, wilt thou not?
YOUNG LUCIUS	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 at the court. Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we’ll be waited on.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Marcus
MARCUS	O heavens, can you hear a good man groan And not relent, or not compassion him? Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy, 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! Exit

Atto 4, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door, and at the other door young Lucius and another with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them
CHIRON	Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius. He hath some message to deliver us.
AARON	Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
YOUNG LUCIUS	My lords, with all the humbleness I may I greet your honours from Andronicus (Aside) And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
DEMETRIUS	Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What’s the news?
YOUNG LUCIUS	(aside) That you are both deciphered, that’s the news, For villains marked with rape. (Aloud) May it please you, My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me The goodliest weapons of his armoury To gratify your honourable youth, The hope of Rome, for so he bid me say; His attendant gives the weapons And so I do, and with his gifts present Your lordships that, whenever you have need, You may be armed and appointed well; And so I leave you both (aside) like bloody villains.
(didascalia)	Exit with attendant
DEMETRIUS	What’s here—a scroll, and written round about? Let’s see. ‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.’
CHIRON	O, ’tis a verse in Horace, I know it well. I read it in the grammar long ago.
AARON	Ay, just, a verse in Horace; right, you have it. (Aside) Now what a thing it is to be an ass! Here’s no sound jest. The old man hath found their guilt, And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines That wound beyond their feeling to the quick. But were our witty Empress well afoot She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit. But let her rest in her unrest a while. (To Chiron and Demetrius) And now, young lords, was’t not a happy star Led us to Rome, strangers and, more than so, Captives, to be advanced to this height? It did me good before the palace gate To brave the Tribune in his brother’s hearing.
DEMETRIUS	But me more good to see so great a lord Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
AARON	Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius? Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
DEMETRIUS	I would we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay, by turn to serve 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.
DEMETRIUS	Come, let us go and pray to all the gods For our beloved mother in her pains.
AARON	Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound
DEMETRIUS	Why do the Emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?
CHIRON	Belike for joy the Emperor hath a son.
DEMETRIUS	Soft, who comes here?
(didascalia)	Enter Nurse with a blackamoor child
NURSE	Good morrow, lords. O tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
AARON	Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all, Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
NURSE	O gentle Aaron, we are all undone. Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
AARON	Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep! What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy 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!
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. The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal, And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.
AARON	Zounds, ye whore, is black so base a hue? Sweet blowze, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
DEMETRIUS	Villain, what hast thou done?
AARON	That which thou canst not undo.
CHIRON	Thou hast undone our mother. AARON Villain, I have done thy mother.
DEMETRIUS	And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her. Woe to her chance, and damned her loathed choice, Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend.
CHIRON	It shall not live.
AARON	It shall not die.
NURSE	Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.
AARON	What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I Do execution on my flesh and blood.
DEMETRIUS	I’ll broach the tadpole on my rapier’s point. Nurse, give it me. My sword shall soon dispatch it.
AARON	Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. He takes the child and draws his sword Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother? Now, by the burning tapers of the sky That shone so brightly when this boy was got, He dies upon my scimitar’s sharp point That touches this, my first-born son and heir. I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus With all his threat’ning band of Typhon’s brood, Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war Shall seize this prey out of his father’s hands. What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys, Ye whitelimed walls, ye alehouse painted signs, Coal-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 swan’s black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood. Tell the Empress from me I am of age To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
DEMETRIUS	Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
AARON	My mistress is my mistress, this myself, The figure and the picture of my youth. This before all the world do I prefer; This maugre all the world will I keep safe, Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome. no
DEMETRIUS	By this our mother is for ever shamed.
CHIRON	Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
NURSE	The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
CHIRON	I blush to think upon this ignomy.
AARON	Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears. Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing The close enacts and counsels of thy heart. Here’s a young lad framed of another leer. Look how the black slave smiles upon the father, As who should say ‘Old lad, I am thine own.’ He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed Of that self blood that first gave life to you, And from that womb where you imprisoned were He is enfranchised and come to light. Nay, he is your brother by the surer side, Although my seal be stamped in his face.
NURSE	Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?
DEMETRIUS	Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, And we will all subscribe to thy advice. Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
AARON	Then sit we down, and let us all consult. My son and I will have the wind of you. Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety. They sit
DEMETRIUS	(to the Nurse) How many women saw this child of his?
AARON	Why, so, brave lords, when we do 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 Aaron storms. (To the Nurse) But say again, how many saw the child?
NURSE	Cornelia the midwife, and myself, And no one else but the delivered Empress.
AARON	The Empress, the midwife, and yourself. Two may keep counsel when the third’s away. Go to the Empress, tell her this I said. He kills her ‘Wheak, wheak’—so cries a pig prepared to the spit.
DEMETRIUS	What mean’st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?
AARON	OLord, sir, ’tis a deed of policy. Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours— A long-tongued, babbling gossip? No, lords, no. And now be it known to you my full intent. Not far, one Muliteus my countryman His wife but yesternight was brought to bed. His child is like to her, fair as you are. Go pack with him, and give the mother gold, And tell them both the circumstance of all, And how by this their child shall be advanced And be received for the Emperor’s heir, And substituted in the place of mine, To calm this tempest whirling in the court; And let the Emperor dandle him for his own. Hark ye, lords, you see I have given her physic, And you must needs bestow her funeral. The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms. This done, see that you take no longer days, But send the midwife presently to me. The midwife and the nurse well made away, Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
CHIRON	Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air With secrets.
DEMETRIUS	For this care of Tamora, Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Chiron and Demetrius with the Nurse’s body
AARON	Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies, There to dispose this treasure in mine arms And secretly to greet the Empress’ friends. Come on, you thick-lipped slave, I’ll bear you hence, For it is you that puts us to our shifts. I’ll make you feed on berries and on roots, And fat on curds and whey, and suck the goat, And cabin in a cave, and bring you up To be a warrior and command a camp.
(didascalia)	Exit with the child

Atto 4, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Titus, old Marcus, his son Publius, young Lucius, and other gentlemen (Sempronius, Caius) with bows; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the ends of them
TITUS	Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way. Sir boy, let me see your archery. Look ye draw home enough, and ‘tis there straight. Terras Astraea reliquit. Be you remembered, Marcus: she’s gone, she’s fled. Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall Go sound the ocean and cast your nets. Happily you may catch her in the sea; Yet there’s as little justice as at land. No, Publius and Sempronius, you must do it. ’Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade And pierce the inmost centre of the earth. Then, when you come to Pluto’s region, I pray you deliver him this petition. Tell him it is for justice and for aid, And that it comes from old Andronicus, Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome. Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable What time I threw the people’s suffrages On him that thus doth tyrannize o’er me. Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all, And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched. This wicked Emperor may have shipped her hence, And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
MARCUS	O, Publius, is not this a heavy case, To see thy noble uncle thus distraught?
PUBLIUS	Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns By day and night t’attend him carefully And feed his humour kindly as we may, Till time beget some careful remedy.
MARCUS	Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy,
(didascalia)	But
MARCUS	Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude, And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
TITUS	Publius, how now? How now, my masters? What, have you met with her?
PUBLIUS	No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall. Marry, for Justice, she is now employed, He thinks, with Jove, in heaven or somewhere else, So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
TITUS	He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. I’ll dive into the burning lake below And pull her out of Acheron by the heels. Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we, No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops’ size, But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back, Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear; And sith there’s no justice in earth nor hell, We will solicit heaven and move the gods To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs. Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus. He gives them the arrows ‘Ad Iovem’, that’s for you. Here, ’ad Apollinem’. ‘Ad Martem’, that’s for myself. 55 Here, boy, ‘to Pallas’. Here ‘to Mercury’. ‘To Saturn’, Caius—not ‘to Saturnine’) You were as good to shoot against the wind. To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid. Of my word, I have written to effect. There’s not a god left unsolicited.
MARCUS	Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court. We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
TITUS	Now, masters, draw. They shoot O, well said, Lucius! Good boy, in Virgo’s lap ! Give it Pallas.
MARCUS	My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon. Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
TITUS	Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done? See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns.
MARCUS	This was the sport, my lord. When Publius shot, The Bull, being galled, gave Aries such a knock That down fell both the Ram’s horns in the court, And who should find them but the Empress’ villain! She laughed, and told the Moor he should not choose But give them to his master for a present.
TITUS	Why, there it goes. God give his lordship joy.
(didascalia)	Enter the Clown with a basket and two pigeons in it
TITUS	News, news from heaven; Marcus, the post is come. Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters? Shall I have justice? What says Jupiter?
CLOWN	Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.
TITUS	But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
CLOWN	Alas, sir, I know not ‘Jupiter’. I never drank with him in all my life.
TITUS	Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
CLOWN	Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
TITUS	Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
CLOWN	From heaven? Alas, sir, I never came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal’s men.
TITUS	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—(giving money) meanwhile, here’s money for thy charges. Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace Deliver up a supplication?
CLOWN	Ay, sir.
TITUS	(writing and giving the Clown a paper) 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. CLOWN I warrant you, sir. Let me alone.
TITUS	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.
CLOWN	God be with you, sir. I will. Exit
TITUS	Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus, the Emperor, and Tamora, the Empress, and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, and others. The Emperor brings the arrows in his hand that Titus shot at him
SATURNINUS	Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen An emperor in Rome thus overborne, Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent Of egall justice used in such contempt? My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods, However these disturbers of our peace Buzz in the people’s ears, there naught hath passed But even with law against the wilful sons Of old Andronicus. And what an if His sorrows have so overwhelmed 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 unjustice everywhere? 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 he sleep He’ll so awake as he in fury shall Cut off the proud’st conspirator that lives.
TAMORA	My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus’ age, Th’effects of sorrow for his valiant sons Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his heart; And rather comfort his distressed plight Than prosecute the meanest or the best For these contempts. (Aside) Why, thus it shall become High-witted Tamora to gloze with all. But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick. Thy life blood out if Aaron now be wise, Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
(didascalia)	Enter Clown
TAMORA	How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
CLOWN	Yea, forsooth, an your mistress-ship be Emperial.
TAMORA	Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
CLOWN	’Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good-e’ en. I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here. Saturninus reads the letter
SATURNINUS	(to an attendant) Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
CLOWN	How much money must I have?
TAMORA	Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
(didascalia)	CLOWN Hanged, by’ Lady? Then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. Exit with attendant
SATURNINUS	Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! Shall I endure this monstrous villainy? 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 butchered wrongfully! Go, drag the villain hither by the hair. Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege. For this proud mock I’ll be thy slaughterman, Sly frantic wretch, that holp’st to make me great In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
(didascalia)	Enter Aemilius, a messenger
SATURNINUS	What news with thee, Aemilius?
AEMILIUS	Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause. The Goths have gathered head, and with a power Of high-resolvèd men bent to the spoil They hither march amain under conduct Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus, Who threats in course of this revenge to do As much as ever Coriolanus did.
SATURNINUS	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 begins our sorrows to approach. ’Tis he the common people love so much. Myself hath often heard them say, When I have walked like a private man, That Lucius’ banishment was wrongfully, And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor.
TAMORA	Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
SATURNINUS	Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius, And will revolt from me to succour him.
TAMORA	King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name. Is the sun dimmed, 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 mayst 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 Whenas the one is wounded with the bait, The other rotted with delicious feed.
SATURNINUS	But he will not entreat his son for us.
TAMORA	If Tamora entreat him, then he will, For I can smooth and fill his aged ears With golden promises that, were his heart Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf, Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. (To Aemilius) Go thou before to be our ambassador. Say that the Emperor requests a parley Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting Even at his father’s house, the old Andronicus.
SATURNINUS	Aemilius, do this message honourably, And if he stand on hostage for his safety, Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
AEMILIUS	Your bidding shall I do effectually. Exit
TAMORA	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.
SATURNINUS	Then go incessantly, and plead to him.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 5, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Flourish.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius with an army of Goths, with drummers and soldiers
LUCIUS	Approved warriors and my faithful friends, I have received letters from great Rome Which signifies 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. A 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 flowered fields, And be avenged on cursed Tamora.
GOTHS	And as he saith, so say we all with him.
LUCIUS	I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
(didascalia)	Enter a Goth, leading of Aaron with his child in his
LUCIUS	arms
GOTH	Renowned Lucius, from our troops I strayed 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 controlled 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 mightst 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 Empress’ babe, Will hold thee dearly for thy mother’s sake.’ With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him, Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither To use as you think needful of the man.
LUCIUS	O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil That robbed Andronicus of his good hand. This is the pearl that pleased your Empress’ eye, And here’s the base fruit of her burning lust. (To Aaron) Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey This growing image of thy fiendlike face? Why dost not speak? What, deaf? What, not a word? A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree, And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
AARON	Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.
LUCIUS	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. Get me a ladder.
(didascalia)	A Goth brings a ladder which Aaron climbs
AARON	Lucius, save the child, And bear it from me to the Empress. If thou do this, I’ll show thee wondrous 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!’
LUCIUS	Say on, and if it please me which thou speak’st Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished.
AARON	And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius, ’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak; For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres, Acts of black night, abominable deeds, Complots of mischief, treason, villainies Ruthful to hear yet piteously performed, And this shall all be buried in my death Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
LUCIUS	Tell on thy mind. I say thy child shall live.
AARON	Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
LUCIUS	Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god. That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
AARON	What if I do not?—as indeed I do not— Yet for I know thou art religious And hast a thing within thee called conscience, With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies Which I have seen thee careful to observe, Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know An idiot holds his bauble for a god, And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, To that I’ll urge him, therefore thou shalt vow By that same god, what god soe’er it be, That thou adorest and hast in reverence, To save my boy, to nurse and bring him up, Or else I will discover naught to thee.
LUCIUS	Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
AARON	First know thou I begot him on the Empress.
LUCIIJS	O most insatiate and luxurious woman!
AARON	Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. ’Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus. They cut thy sister’s tongue, and ravished her, And cut her hands, and trimmed her as thou sawest.
LUCIUS	O detestable villain! Call’st thou that trimming?
AARON	Why, she was washed and cut and trimmed, and ’twas Trim sport for them which had the doing of it.
LUCIUS	O barbarous beastly villains, like thyself!
AARON	Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them. That codding spirit had they from their mother, As sure a card as ever won the set. That bloody mind I think they learned of me, As true a dog as ever fought at head. Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth. I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay. I wrote the letter that thy father found, And hid the gold within that letter mentioned, Confederate with the Queen and her two sons; And what not done that thou hast cause to rue Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it? I played the cheater for thy father’s hand, And when I had it drew myself apart, And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter. I pried me through the crevice of a wall When for his hand he had his two sons’ heads, Beheld his tears, and laughed so heartily That both mine eyes were rainy like to his; And when I told the Empress of this sport She swoonèd almost at my pleasing tale, And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses. A GOTH What, canst thou say all this and never blush?
AARON	Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
LUCIUS	Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
AARON	Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. Even now I curse the day—and yet I think Few come within the compass of my curse— Wherein I did not some notorious ill, As kill a man, or else devise his death; Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it; Accuse some innocent and forswear myself; Set deadly enmity between two friends; Make poor men’s cattle break their necks; Set fire on barns and haystacks in the night, And bid the owners quench them with their tears. Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves And set them upright at their dear friends’ door, Even when their sorrows almost was forgot, And on their skins, as on the bark of trees, Have with my knife carved in Roman letters ‘Let not your sorrow die though I am dead.’ But I have done a thousand dreadful things As willingly as one would kill a fly, And nothing grieves me heartily indeed But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
LUCIUS	Bring down the devil, for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently. Goths bring Aaron down the ladder
AARON	If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell But to torment you with my bitter tongue.
LUCIUS	Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. Goths gag Aaron.
(didascalia)	Enter Aemilius
LUCIUS	A GOTH My lord, there is a messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence.
LUCIUS	Let him come near. Welcome, Aemilius. What’s the news from Rome?
AEMILIUS	Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths, The Roman Emperor greets you all by me, And for he understands you are in arms, He craves a parley at your father’s house, Willing you to demand your hostages, And they shall be immediately delivered. A GOTH What says our general?
LUCIUS	Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus, And we will come. Away!
(didascalia)	Flourish. Exeunt marching

Atto 5, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, disguised
TAMORA	Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment, I will encounter with Andronicus And say I am Revenge, sent from below To join with him and right his heinous wrongs. Knock at his study, where they say he keeps To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge. Tell him Revenge is come to join with him And work confusion on his enemies.
(didascalia)	They knock, and Titus aloft opens his study door
TITUS	Who doth molest my contemplation? Is it your trick to make me ope the door, That so my sad decrees may fly away And all my study be to no effect? You are deceived; for what I mean to do, See here, in bloody lines I have set down, And what is written shall be executed.
TAMORA	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.
TAMORA	If thou didst know me thou wouldst talk with me.
TITUS	I am not mad, I know thee well enough; Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines, Witness these trenches made by grief and care, Witness the tiring day and heavy night, Witness all sorrow that I know thee well For our proud empress, mighty Tamora. Is not thy coming for my other hand?
TAMORA	Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora. She is thy enemy, and I thy friend. I am Revenge, sent from th’nfernal kingdom To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. Come down, and welcome me to this world’s light. Confer with me 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 them out, And in their ears tell them my dreadful name, Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
TITUS	Art thou Revenge, and art thou sent to me To be a torment to mine enemies?
TAMORA	I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.
TITUS	Do me some service ere I come to thee. Lo by thy side where Rape and Murder stands. Now give some surance that thou art Revenge, Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels, And then I’ll come and be thy wagoner, And whirl along with thee about the globe, Provide two proper palfreys, black as jet, To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away And find out murderers in their guilty caves. And when thy car is loaden with their heads I will dismount, and by thy wagon wheel Trot like a servile footman all day long, Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east Until his very downfall in the sea; And day by day I’ll do this heavy task, So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
TAMORA	These are my ministers, and come with me.
TITUS	Are they thy ministers? What are they called?
TAMORA	Rape and Murder, therefore called so ‘Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
TITUS	Good Lord, how like the Empress’ sons they are, And you the Empress! But we worldly men Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee, And if one arm’s embracement will content thee,
(didascalia)	I will embrace thee in it by and by. Exit aloft
TAMORA	This closing with him fits his lunacy. Whate’er I forge to feed his brainsick humours Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches, For now he firmly takes me for Revenge, And being credulous in this mad thought I’ll make him send for Lucius his son, And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure I’ll find some cunning practice out of hand To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths, Or at the least make them his enemies. See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus, below
TITUS	Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee. Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house. Rapine and Murder, you are welcome, too. How like the Empress and her sons you are! Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor. Could not all hell afford you such a devil?— For well I wot the Empress never wags But in her company there is a Moor, And would you represent our Queen aright It were convenient you had such a devil. But welcome as you are. What shall we do?
TAMORA	What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
DEMETRIUS	Show me a murderer, I’ll deal with him.
CHIRON	Show me a villain that hath done a rape, And I am sent to be revenged on him.
TAMORA	Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong, And I will be revenged on them all.
TITUS	(to Demetrius) 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. (To Chiron) Go thou with him, and when it is thy hap To find another that is like to thee, Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher. (To Tamora) Go thou with them, and in the Emperor’s court There is a queen attended by a Moor. Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion, For up and down she doth resemble thee. I pray thee, do on them some violent death; They have been violent to me and mine.
TAMORA	Well hast thou lessoned us. This shall we do; But would it please thee, good Andronicus, To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son, Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths, And bid him come and banquet at thy house— When he is here, even at thy solemn feast, I will bring in the Empress and her sons, The Emperor himself, and all thy foes, And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel, And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart. What says Andronicus to this device?
TITUS	Marcus, my brother! ’Tis sad Titus calls.
(didascalia)	Enter Marcus
TITUS	Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius. Thou shalt enquire him out among the Goths. Bid him repair to me, and bring with him Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths. Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are. Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them. This do thou for my love, and so let him, As he regards his aged father’s life.
MARCUS	This will I do, and soon return again. Exit
TAMORA	Now will I hence about thy business, And take my ministers along with me.
TITUS	Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, Or else I’ll call my brother back again, And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
TAMORA	(aside to her sons) What say you, boys, will you abide with him Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor How I have governed our determined jest? Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair, And tarry with him till I turn again.
TITUS	(aside) I knew them all, though they supposed me mad, And will o’erreach them in their own devices— A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam.
DEMETRIUS	Madam, depart at pleasure. Leave us here.
TAMORA	Farewell, Andronicus. Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
TITUS	I know thou dost, and sweet Revenge, farewell.
(didascalia)	Exit Tamora
CHIRON	Tell us, old man, how shall we be employed?
TITUS	Tut, I have work enough for you to do. Publius, come hither; Caius and Valentine.
(didascalia)	Enter Publius, Caius, and Valentine
PUBLIUS	What is your will?
TITUS	Know you these two?
PUBLIUS	The Empress’ sons I take them—Chiron, Demetrius.
TITUS	Fie, Publius, fie! Thou art too much deceived. The one is Murder, and Rape is the other’s name. And therefore bind them, gentle Publius; Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them. Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour, And now I find it. Therefore bind them sure, And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. Exit
CHIRON	Villains, forbear! We are the Empress’ sons.
PUBLIUS	And therefore do we what we are commanded. Publius, Caius, and Valentine bind and gag Chiron and Demetrius Stop close their mouths. Let them not speak a word. Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia
PUBLIUS	with a basin
TITUS	Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound. Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me, But let them hear what fearful words I utter. O 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 cut off and made a merry jest, Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity, Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced. What would you say if I should let you speak? Villains, for shame. You could not beg for grace. Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you. This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold The basin that receives your guilty blood. You know your mother means to feast with me, And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad. Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust, And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste, And of the paste a coffin I will rear, And make two pasties of your shameful heads, And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam, Like to the earth swallow her own increase. This is the feast that I have bid her to, And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, And worse than Progne I will be revenged. And now, prepare your throats. Lavinia, come. Receive the blood, and when that they are dead Let me go grind their bones to powder small, And with this hateful liquor temper it, And in that paste let their vile heads be baked. Come, come, be everyone officious To make this banquet, which I wish may prove More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast. He cuts their throats So, now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook And see them ready against their mother comes.
(didascalia)	Exeunt carrying the bodies

Atto 5, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron, prisoner, and an attendant with his child
LUCIUS	Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind That I repair to Rome, I am content. A GOTH And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
LUCIUS	Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil. Let him receive no sust’nance, fetter him Till he be brought unto the Empress’ face For testimony of her foul proceedings, And see the ambush of our friends be strong. I fear the Emperor means no good to us.
AARON	Some devil whisper curses in my ear And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my swelling heart.
LUCIUS	Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Goths with Aaron and his child
(didascalia)	Flourish
LUCIUS	The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus the Emperor, and Tamora the
LUCIUS	Empress, with Aemilius, Tribunes, Senators, and others
SATURNINUS	What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
LUCIUS	What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
MARCUS	Rome’s emperor and nephew, break the parle. These quarrels must be quietly debated. The feast is ready which the careful Titus Hath ordained to an honourable end, For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome. Please you therefore draw nigh, and take your places.
SATURNINUS	Marchs, we will.
(didascalia)	Hautboys. A table brought in. They sit.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus like a cook, placing the dishes, and
(didascalia)	Lavinia with a veil over her face; young Lucius,
(didascalia)	and others
TITUS	Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread Queen; Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius; And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor, ‘Twill fill your stomachs. Please you, eat of it.
SATURNINUS	Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
TITUS	Because I would be sure to have all well To entertain your highness and your Empress.
TAMORA	We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.
TITUS	An if your highness knew my heart, you were. My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: Was it well done of rash Virginius To slay his daughter with his own right hand Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?
SATURNINUS	It was, Andronicus.
TITUS	Your reason, mighty lord?
SATURNINUS	Because the girl should not survive her shame, And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
TITUS	A reason mighty, strong, effectual; A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant For me, most wretched, to perform the like. Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee, And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die.
(didascalia)	He kills her
SATURNINUS	What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
TITUS	Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind. I am as woeful as Virginius was, And have a thousand times more cause than he To do this outrage, and it now is done.
SATURNINUS	What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.
TITUS	Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your highness feed?
TAMORA	Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
TITUS	Not I, ‘twas Chiron and Demetrius. They ravished her, and cut away her tongue, And they, ’twas they, that did her all this wrong.
SATURNINUS	Go, fetch them hither to us presently.
(didascalia)	TITUS revealing the heads
SATURNINUS	Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. ‘Tis true, ’tis true, witness my knife’s sharp point. He stabs the Empress
SATURNINUS	Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed. He kills Titus
LUCIUS	Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed? There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. He kills Saturninus. Confusion follows.
(didascalia)	Enter Goths. Lucius, Marcus and others go aloft
MARCUS	You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome, By uproars severed, as a flight of fowl Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts, O, let me teach you how to knit again This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, These broken limbs again into one body. A ROMAN LORD Let Rome herself be bane unto herself, And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, Do shameful execution on herself But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, Grave witnesses of true experience, Cannot induce you to attend my words. (To Lucius) Speak, Rome’s dear friend, as erst our ancestor When with his solemn tongue he did discourse To lovesick Dido’s sad-attending ear The story of that baleful-burning night When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam’s Troy. Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears, Or who hath brought the fatal engine in That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound. My heart is not compact of flint nor steel, Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, But floods of tears will drown my oratory And break my utt’rance even in the time When it should move ye to attend me most, And force you to commiseration. Here’s Rome’s young captain. Let him tell the tale, While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
LUCIUS	Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you That Chiron and the damned Demetrius Were they that murdered our Emperor’s brother, And they it were that ravished our sister. For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, Our father’s tears despised, and basely cozened Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out And sent her enemies unto the grave. Lastly myself, unkindly banished, The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out To beg relief among Rome’s enemies, Who drowned their enmity in my true tears And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend. I am the turned-forth, be it known to you, That have preserved her welfare in my blood, And from her bosom took the enemy’s point, Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body. Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I. My scars can witness, dumb although they are, That my report is just and full of truth. But soft, methinks I do digress too much, Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me, For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
MARCUS	Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child. Of this was Tamora delivered, The issue of an irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes. The villain is alive in Titus’ house, And as he is to witness, this is true. Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge These wrongs unspeakable, past patience, Or more than any living man could bear. Now have you heard the truth. What say you, Romans? Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, And from the place where you behold us pleading The poor remainder of Andronici Will hand in hand all headlong hurl ourselves And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls And make a mutual closure of our house. Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall; Lo, hand in hand Lucius and I will fall.
AEMILIUS	Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, And bring our emperor gently in thy hand, Lucius, our emperor—for well I know The common voice do cry it shall be so.
ROMANS	Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal emperor!
MARCUS	(to attendants) Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house And hither hale that misbelieving Moor To be adjudged some direful slaught’ring death As punishment for his most wicked life. Exeunt some
(didascalia)	Lucius, Marcus, and the others come down
(didascalia)	ROMANS
MARCUS	Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!
LUCIUS	Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe. But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, For nature puts me to a heavy task. Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. (Kissing Titus) O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face, The last true duties of thy noble son.
MARCUS	(kissing Titus) Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips. O, were the sum of these that I should pay Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.
LUCIUS	(to young Lucius) Come hither, boy, come, come, and learn of us To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well. Many a time he danced thee on his knee, Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow. Many a story hath he told to thee, And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind, And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
MARCUS	How many thousand times hath these poor lips, When they were living, warmed themselves on thine! O now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss. Bid him farewell. Commit him to the grave. Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
YOUNG LUCIUS	(kissing Titus) O grandsire, grandsire, ev’n with all my heart Would I were dead, so you did live again. O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping. My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
(didascalia)	Enter some with Aaron
YOUNG LUCIUS	A ROMAN You sad Andronici, have done with woes. Give sentence on this execrable wretch That hath been breeder of these dire events.
LUCIUS	Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him. There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food. If anyone relieves or pities him, For the offence he dies. This is our doom. Some stay to see him fastened in the earth.
AARON	Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb? I am no baby, I, that with base prayers I should repent the evils I have done. Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did Would I perform if I might have my will. If one good deed in all my life I did I do repent it from my very soul.
LUCIUS	Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence, And give him burial in his father’s grave. My father and Lavinia shall forthwith Be closed in our household’s monument. As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora, No funeral rite nor man in mourning weed, No mournful bell shall ring her burial; But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey. Her life was beastly and devoid of pity, And being dead, let birds on her take pity.
(didascalia)	Exeunt with the bodies
A. AFTER	1.1.35 The following passage, found in the First Quarto following a comma after ‘field’ but not included in the Second or Third Quartos or the Folio, conflicts with the subsequent action and presumably should have been deleted. (In the second line, Q1 reads ’of that’ for ‘of the’.) and at this day To the monument of the Andronici Done sacrifice of expiation, And slain the noblest prisoner of the Goths.
B. AFTER	1.1.283 The following passage found in the quartos and the Folio is difficult to reconcile with the apparent need for Saturninus and his party to leave the stage at 275.1-2 before entering ‘above’ at 294.2-4. It is omitted from our text in the belief that Shakespeare intended it to be deleted after adding the episode of Mutius’ killing to his original draft, and that the printers of Q1 included it by accident.
(didascalia)	TITUS
B. AFTER	Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised.
SATURNINUS	Surprised, by whom?
BASSIANUS	By him that justly may Bear his betrothed from all the world away.
C. AFTER	4.3.93 The following lines, found in the early texts, appear to be a draft of the subsequent six lines.
MARCUS	(to Titus) Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration, and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from you.
TITUS	(to the Clown) Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with a grace?
CLOWN	Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
IN	narrative sequence, Richard III follows directly after Richard Duke of York, and that play’s closing scenes, in which Richard of Gloucester expresses his ambitions for the crown, suggest that Shakespeare had a sequel in mind. But he seems to have gone back to tell the beginning of the story of Henry VI’s reign before covering the events from Henry VI’s death (in 1471) to the Battle of Bosworth (1485). We have no record of the first performance of Richard III (probably in late 1592 or early 1593, outside London); it was printed in 1597, with five reprints before its inclusion in the 1623 Folio. The principal source of information about Richard III available to Shakespeare was Sir Thomas More’s History of King Richard III as incorporated in chronicle histories by Edward Hall (1542) and Raphael Holinshed (1577, revised in 1587), both of which Shakespeare seems to have used. His artistic influences include the tragedies of the Roman dramatist Seneca (who was born about 4 BC and died in AD 65), with their ghosts, their rhetorical style, their prominent choruses, and their indirect, highly formal presentation of violent events. (Except for the stabbing of Clarence (1.4) there is no on-stage violence in Richard III until the final battle scenes.) In this play, Shakespeare demonstrates a more complete artistic control of his historical material than in its predecessors: Richard himself is a more dominating central figure than is to be found in any of the earlier plays, historical events are freely manipulated in the interests of an overriding design, and the play’s language is more highly patterned and rhetorically unified. That part of the play which shows Richard’s bloody progress to the throne is based on the events of some twelve years; the remainder covers the two years of his reign. Shakespeare omits some important events, but invents Richard’s wooing of Lady Anne over her father-in-law’s coffin, and causes Queen Margaret, who had returned to France in 1476 and who died before Richard became king, to remain in England as a choric figure of grief and retribution. The characterization of Richard as a self-delighting ironist builds upon More. The episodes in which the older women of the play—the Duchess of York, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Margaret—bemoan their losses, and the climactic procession of ghosts before the final confrontation of Richard with the idealized figure of Richmond, the future Henry VII, help to make Richard III the culmination of a tetralogy as well as a masterly poetic drama in its own right. The final speech, in which Richmond, heir to the house of Lancaster and grandfather of Queen Elizabeth I, proclaims the union of ‘the white rose and the red’ in his marriage to Elizabeth of York, provides a patriotic climax which must have been immensely stirring to the play’s early audiences. Colley Cibber’s adaptation (1700) of Richard III, incorporating the death of Henry VI, shortening and adapting the play, and making the central role (played by Cibber) even more dominant than it had originally been, held the stage with great success until the late nineteenth century. Since then, Shakespeare’s text has been restored (though usually abbreviated—next to Hamlet, this is Shakespeare’s longest play), and the role of Richard has continued to present a rewarding challenge to leading actors.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt his soldiers and followers
SATURNINUS	(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.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	Sound drums and trumpets, and then enter Martius
(didascalia)	and Mutius, two of Titus’ sons, and then men
(didascalia)	bearing coffins covered with black, then Lucius and
(didascalia)	Quintus, two other sons; then Titus Andronicus in
(didascalia)	his chariot and then Tamora the Queen of Goths
CAPTAIN	and her sons Alarbus, Chiron, and Demetrius, with Aaron the Moor and others as many as can be.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	TAMORA kneeling
TITUS	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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Titus’ sons with Alarbus
(didascalia)	TAMORA rising
LUCIUS	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.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	Flourish. Then sound trumpets and lay the coffins in the tomb
TITUS	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.
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	Lavinia rises
(didascalia)	MARCUS aloft
TITUS	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!’
(didascalia)	A long flourish while Marcus and the other
MARCUS	Tribunes, with Saturninus and Bassianus, come down. Marcus invests Saturninus in the white
(didascalia)	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.
(didascalia)	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	Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal To do myself this reason and this right.
MARCUS	Suum cuique is our Roman justice. This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
LUCIUS	And that he will and shall, if Lucius live.
TITUS	Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor’s guard?
MUTIUS	Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I’ll keep this door safe.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Bassianus, Marcus, Quintus, and Martius, with Lavinia
MUTIUS	(To Titus) My lord, you pass not here.
TITUS	What, villain boy, Barr’st me my way in Rome? He attacks Mutius
MUTIUS	Help, Lucius, help! Titus kills him
LUCIUS	(to Titus) My lord, you are unjust; and more than so, In wrongful 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.
(didascalia)	Exit with Mutius’ body
(didascalia)	Enter aloft Saturninus the Emperor with Tamora
LUCIUS	and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, and Aaron the Moor
TITUS	Follow, my lord, and I’ll soon bring her back.
SATURNINUS	No, Titus, no. The Emperor needs her not, Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock. I’ll trust by leisure him that mocks me once, Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all thus to dishonour me. Was none in Rome to make a stale But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine That saidst I begged the empire at thy hands.
TITUS	O monstrous, what reproachful words are these?
SATURNINUS	But go thy ways, go give that changing piece 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 wounded heart.
SATURNINUS	And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths, That like the stately Phoebe ‘mongst her nymphs Dost overshine the gallant’st dames of Rome, If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, And will create thee Empress of Rome. Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? And here I swear by all the Roman gods, Sith priest and holy water are so near, And tapers burn so bright, and everything In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, Or climb my palace, till from forth this place I lead espoused my bride along with me.
TAMORA	And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths She will a handmaid be to his desires, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
SATURNINUS	Ascend, fair Queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered. There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Titus
TITUS	I am not bid to wait upon this bride. Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, Dishonoured thus and challenged of wrongs?
(didascalia)	Enter Marcus and Titus’ sons Lucius, Quintus, and
(didascalia)	Martius, carrying Mutius’ body
MARCUS	O Titus, see, O see 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, confederates in the deed That hath dishonoured all our family; Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
LUCIUS	But let us give him burial as becomes, Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
TITUS	Traitors, away, he rests not in this tomb. This monument five hundred years hath stood, Which I have sumptuously re-edified. 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	My lord, this is impiety in you. My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him. He must be buried with his brethren.
(didascalia)	QUINTUS and MARTIUS
MARCUS	And shall, or him we will accompany.
TITUS	‘And shall’? What villain was it spake that word?
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
TITUS	He that would vouch it in any place but here.
TITUS	What, would you bury him in my despite?
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 mine honour thou hast wounded. My foes I do repute you every one, So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
(didascalia)	MARTIUS
TITUS	He is not with himself, let us withdraw.
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
TITUS	Not I, till Mutius’ bones be buried. Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius kneel
MARCUS	Brother, for in that name doth nature plead—
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
MARCUS	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 nest, 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 graciously plead for his funerals. Let not young Mutius then, that was thy joy, Be barred his entrance here.
TITUS	Rise, Marcus, rise. The dismall‘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 Mutius in the tomb
LUCIUS	There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends’, Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. 385
(didascalia)	ALL BUT TITUS (kneeling)
LUCIUS	No man shed tears for noble Mutius; He lives in fame, that died in virtue’s cause.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Marcus and Titus
MARCUS	My lord—to step out of these dreary dumps— How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?
TITUS	I know not, Marcus, but I know it is— Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell. Is she not then beholden to the man That brought her for this high good turn so far?
(didascalia)	MARCUS
TITUS	Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
(didascalia)	Flourish. Enter the Emperor Saturninus, Tamora,
TITUS	and her two sons (Chiron and Demetrius), with Aaron the Moor at one door.
(didascalia)	Enter at the other door Bassianus and Lavinia with
(didascalia)	Lucius, Quintus,
(didascalia)	and Martius
SATURNINUS	So, Bassianus, you have played your prize. God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride.
BASSIANUS	And you of yours, my lord. I say no more, Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.
SATURNINUS	Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
BASSIANUS	‘Rape’ call you it, my lord, to seize my own— My true betrothed love, and now my wife? But let the laws of Rome determine all; Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine.
SATURNINUS	‘Tis good, sir; you are very short with us. But if we live we’ll be as sharp with you.
BASSIANUS	My lord, what I have done, as best I may Answer I must, and shall do with my life. Only thus much I give your grace to know: 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, Saturnine, That hath expressed himself in all his deeds A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
TITUS	Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds. ‘Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me.
(didascalia)	He kneels
TITUS	Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge How I have loved and honoured Saturnine!
TAMORA	(to Saturninus) My worthy lord, if ever Tamora Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, Then hear me speak indifferently for all; And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
SATURNINUS	What, madam—be dishonoured openly And basely put it up without revenge?
TAMORA	Not so, my lord. The gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you. But on mine honour dare I undertake For good lord Titus’ innocence in all, Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs. Then at my suit look graciously on him. Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. (Aside to Saturninus) My lord, be ruled by me, be won at last, Dissemble all your griefs and discontents. You are but newly planted in your throne; Lest then the people, and patricians too, Upon a just survey take Titus’ part, And so supplant you for ingratitude, Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: I’ll find a day to massacre them all, And raze their faction and their family, The cruel father and his traitorous sons To whom I sued for my dear son’s life, And make them know what ’tis to let a queen Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. (Aloud) Come, come, sweet Emperor; come, Andronicus, Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
SATURNINUS	Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevailed.
TITUS	(rising) I thank your majesty and her, my lord, 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 mine 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 tractable. And fear not, lords, and you, Lavinia; By my advice, all humbled on your knees, You shall ask pardon of his majesty.
(didascalia)	Bassianus, Lavinia, Lucius, Quintus, and
TAMORA	Martius kneel
(didascalia)	LOCIUS
TAMORA	We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness That what we did was mildly as we might, Tend’ring our sister’s honour and our own.
(didascalia)	MARCUS kneeling
TAMORA	That on mine honour here do I protest.
SATURNINUS	Away, and talk not, trouble us no more.
TAMORA	Nay, nay, sweet Emperor, we must all be friends. The Tribune and his nephews kneel for grace. I will not be denied; sweetheart, look back.
SATURNINUS	Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother’s here, And at my lovely Tamora’s entreats, I do remit these young men’s heinous faults. Stand up! Marcus, Bassianus, Lavinia, and Titus’ sons stand Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, I found a friend, and sure as death I swore I would not part a bachelor from the priest. Come, if the Emperor’s court can feast two brides You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
TITUS	Tomorrow an it please your majesty To hunt the panther and the hart with me, With horn and hound we’ll give your grace bonjour.
(didascalia)	Be it so, Titus, and gramercy, too. Flourish. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano i Tribuni e i Senatori in alto, e poi entrano in basso Saturnino e i suoi seguaci da una porta e Bassiano e i suoi seguaci dall’altra, con tamburino e insegne
SATURNINUS	Nobili patrizi, patroni del mio diritto, Difendete con le armi la giustizia della mia causa. E voi compatrioti, miei amorevoli seguaci, Perorate con le vostre spade il mio titolo di successione. Io sono il primogenito di colui che fu l’ultimo A portare l’imperiale diadema di Roma. Vivano dunque in me gli onori di mio padre, Né si offenda la mia età con questa indegnità.
BASSIANUS	Romani, amici, seguaci, fautori del mio diritto, Se mai Bassiano, figlio di Cesare, Fu grato agli occhi della regale Roma, Custodite dunque questo passaggio al Campidoglio, E non soffrite che il disonore s’accosti Al seggio imperiale, consacrato alla virtù, Alla giustizia, alla continenza e alla nobiltà; Ma il merito risplenda in pura elezione, E, Romani, combattete per la libertà della vostra scelta.
(didascalia)	Entra Marco Andronico in alto con la corona
MARCUS	Principi che contendete per fazioni e per amici Ambiziosamente per il dominio e l’impero, Sappiate che il popolo di Roma, di cui siamo Parte speciale, ha con comune voce Nell’elezione per l’impero romano Scelto Andronico, cognominato Pio Per molti buoni e grandi meriti verso Roma. Un uomo più nobile, un guerriero più valoroso, Non vive oggi entro le mura della città. Egli è chiamato in patria dal Senato Dalle stanche guerre contro i barbari Goti, Egli che coi suoi figli, terrore dei nostri nemici, Ha posto il giogo a una nazione forte, addestrata nelle armi. Dieci anni son passati da quando prese Questa causa di Roma, e castigò con le armi L’orgoglio dei nostri nemici. Cinque volte è tornato Sanguinante a Roma, portando i suoi valorosi figli In bare dal campo. E ora infine, carico delle spoglie dell’onore, Ritorna a Roma il buon Andronico, Il celebrato Tito, fiorente nelle armi. Vi preghiamo per l’onore del suo nome A cui degnamente vorreste ora succedere, E per il diritto del Campidoglio e del Senato, Che pretendete d’onorare e adorare, Che vi ritiriate e riduciate le vostre forze, Licenziate i vostri seguaci, e, come si conviene a postulanti, Perorate i vostri meriti in pace e umiltà.
SATURNINUS	Quanto bene parla il Tribuno per calmare i miei pensieri.
BASSIANUS	Marco Andronico, tanto io confido Nella tua rettitudine e integrità, E tanto amo e onoro te e i tuoi, Il tuo nobile fratello Tito e i suoi figli, E colei a cui tutti i miei pensieri s’inchinano, La graziosa Lavinia, ricco ornamento di Roma, Che qui licenzierò i miei amorevoli amici E alla mia fortuna e al favore del popolo Affido la mia causa perché sia pesata sulla bilancia.
(didascalia)	Escono i suoi soldati e seguaci
SATURNINUS	Amici che vi siete così fatti avanti per il mio diritto, Vi ringrazio tutti, e qui tutti vi licenzio, E all’amore e al favore della mia patria Affido me stesso, la mia persona e la causa.
(didascalia)	Escono i suoi soldati e seguaci
SATURNINUS	(Ai Tribuni e ai Senatori) Roma, sii verso di me tanto giusta e benigna Quanto io son fiducioso e benevolo verso di te. Aprite le porte e fatemi entrare.
BASSIANUS	Tribuni, e me, povero competitore.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Salgono nella Casa del Senato. Entra un Capitano
CAPITANO	Romani, fate largo. Il buon Andronico, Patrono della virtù, miglior campione di Roma, Vittorioso nelle battaglie che combatte, Con onore e con fortuna è tornato Da dove con la sua spada ha circoscritto E posto sotto il giogo i nemici di Roma.
(didascalia)	Suonano tamburi e trombe, e poi entra Marzio
(didascalia)	e Muzio, due dei figli di Tito, e poi uomini
(didascalia)	che portano bare coperte di nero, poi Lucio e
(didascalia)	Quinto, altri due figli; poi Tito Andronico nel
(didascalia)	suo carro e poi Tamora la Regina dei Goti
CAPITANO	e i suoi figli Alarbo, Chirone e Demetrio, con Aronne il Moro e altri quanti più possibile.
(didascalia)	Poi depongono le bare, e Tito parla
TITUS	Salve, Roma, vittoriosa nelle tue vesti di lutto! Ecco, come la barca che ha scaricato il suo carico Torna con preziosa merce alla baia Da cui in principio levò l’ancora, Viene Andronico, cinto di rami di lauro, A risalutare la sua patria con le sue lacrime, Lacrime di vera gioia per il suo ritorno a Roma. Tu grande difensore di questo Campidoglio, Sii propizio ai riti che intendiamo compiere. Romani, di venticinque valorosi figli, La metà del numero che aveva il Re Priamo, Ecco i poveri resti, vivi e morti. Quelli che sopravvivono Roma li premi con amore; Questi che io conduco alla loro ultima dimora, Con sepoltura fra i loro avi. Qui i Goti m’han dato licenza di rinfoderare la mia spada. Tito snaturato, e trascurato dei tuoi, Perché soffri che i tuoi figli, ancora insepolti, Vaghino sulla terribile riva dello Stige? Fate largo per deporli presso i loro fratelli. Aprono la tomba Là salutatevi in silenzio come usano i morti, E dormite in pace, uccisi nelle guerre della patria. Oh sacro ricettacolo delle mie gioie, Dolce cella di virtù e nobiltà, Quanti figli miei tieni in serbo Che non mi renderai mai più!
LUCIUS	Dateci il più superbo prigioniero dei Goti, Perché ne recidiamo le membra e su una pira Ad manes fratrum sacrifichiamo la sua carne Dinanzi a questa terrena prigione delle loro ossa, Sì che le ombre non restino inappagate, Né noi turbati da prodigi sulla terra.
TITUS	Io vi do lui, il più nobile che sopravviva, Il figlio maggiore di questa afflitta Regina.
(didascalia)	TAMORA inginocchiandosi
TITUS	Fermatevi, fratelli romani! Grazioso conquistatore, Vittorioso Tito, abbi pietà delle lacrime che verso— Lacrime d’una madre in passione per il figlio— E se i tuoi figli ti furono mai cari, Oh, pensa che mio figlio m’è altrettanto caro! Non basta che siam condotti a Roma Per abbellire i tuoi trionfi, e torniamo Prigionieri a te e al tuo giogo romano; Ma devono i miei figli esser trucidati per le strade Per valorose imprese nella causa della loro patria? Oh, se combattere per il re e per lo Stato Fu pietà nei tuoi, lo è in questi. Andronico, non macchiare di sangue la tua tomba. Vuoi tu accostarti alla natura degli dèi? Accostati a loro dunque nell’esser misericordioso. La dolce misericordia è il vero segno della nobiltà. Tre volte nobile Tito, risparmia il mio primogenito.
TITUS	Pazientate, signora, e perdonatemi. Questi sono i fratelli di coloro che i vostri Goti videro Vivi e morti, e per i loro fratelli uccisi Religiosamente chiedono un sacrificio. A ciò vostro figlio è segnato, e morire deve Per placare le loro ombre gementi che sono partite.
LUCIUS	Portatelo via, e accendete subito un fuoco, E con le nostre spade su una pira di legna Recidiamone le membra finché siano del tutto consumate.
(didascalia)	Escono i figli di Tito con Alarbo
(didascalia)	TAMORA alzandosi
LUCIUS	Oh crudele irreligiosa pietà!
CHIRON	Mai la Scizia fu barbara la metà.
DEMETRIUS	Non opporre la Scizia all’ambiziosa Roma. Alarbo va al riposo, e noi sopravviviamo Per tremare sotto il minaccioso sguardo di Tito. Dunque, signora, siate risoluta; ma sperate insieme Che quegli stessi dèi che armarono la Regina di Troia Con l’occasione d’acuta vendetta Sul tiranno tracio nella sua tenda Favoriscano Tamora, la Regina dei Goti— Quando i Goti eran Goti e Tamora era regina— A vendicare i suoi sanguinosi torti sui suoi nemici.
(didascalia)	Entrano di nuovo Quinto, Marco, Muzio e Lucio, i figli di Andronico, con spade sanguinose
LUCIUS	Vedi, signore e padre, come abbiamo compiuto I nostri riti romani. Le membra d’Alarbo son recise E le viscere alimentano il fuoco del sacrificio, Il cui fumo come incenso profuma il cielo. Non resta che seppellire i nostri fratelli E con alti squilli accoglierli in Roma.
TITUS	Così sia, e faccia Andronico Questo suo ultimo addio alle loro anime.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Poi suonano le trombe e depongono le bare nella tomba
TITUS	In pace e onore riposate qui, figli miei; Prontissimi campioni di Roma, qui riposate in quiete, Sicuri dai casi e dalle sventure del mondo. Qui non s’annida tradimento, qui non gonfia invidia, Qui non crescono erbe maledette, qui non son tempeste, Non rumore, ma silenzio ed eterno sonno. In pace e onore riposate qui, figli miei.
(didascalia)	Entra Lavinia
LAVINIA	In pace e onore viva lungamente il signor Tito, Mio nobile signore e padre, vivi nella fama. Ecco, a questa tomba le mie tributarie lacrime Rendo per le esequie dei miei fratelli, (Inginocchiandosi) E ai tuoi piedi m’inginocchio con lacrime di gioia Versate su questa terra per il tuo ritorno a Roma. Oh, benedicimi qui con la tua vittoriosa mano, Le cui fortune i migliori cittadini di Roma applaudono.
TITUS	Benigna Roma, che hai così amorosamente conservato Il conforto della mia vecchiaia per allietare il mio cuore! Lavinia, vivi; sopravvivi ai giorni di tuo padre E all’eterna durata della fama, a lode della virtù.
(didascalia)	Lavinia si alza
(didascalia)	MARCUS in alto
TITUS	Lunga vita al signor Tito, mio amato fratello, Grazioso trionfatore agli occhi di Roma!
TITUS	Grazie, gentile Tribuno, nobile fratello Marco.
MARCUS	E benvenuti, nipoti, dalle guerre vittoriose, Voi che sopravvivete e voi che dormite nella fama. Bei signori, le vostre sorti sono in tutto pari, Voi che in servizio della patria sguainaste le spade, Ma più sicuro trionfo è questa pompa funebre Che ha aspirato alla felicità di Solone E trionfa sulla sorte nel letto dell’onore. Tito Andronico, il popolo di Roma, Di cui fosti sempre amico nella giustizia, Ti manda per me, loro tribuno e loro fiducia, Questo palio di bianco e immacolato colore, E ti nomina in elezione per l’impero Con questi figli del nostro imperatore poco fa defunto. Sii dunque candidatus, e indossalo, E aiuta a porre un capo sulla Roma senza capo.
TITUS	Un capo migliore s’addice al suo glorioso corpo Di quello che trema per età e debolezza. Perché dovrei indossare questa veste e darvi molestia?— Esser scelto oggi con proclami, Domani cedere il dominio, rassegnare la vita, E procurare a voi tutti nuove brighe. Roma, son stato tuo soldato quarant’anni, E ho guidato con successo la forza della mia patria, E ho sepolto ventun valorosi figli Fatti cavalieri in campo, uccisi virilmente in armi Nel diritto e nel servizio della loro nobile patria. Datemi un bastone d’onore per la mia vecchiaia, Ma non uno scettro per governare il mondo. Diritto lo tenne, signori, chi lo tenne per ultimo.
MARCUS	Tito, tu otterrai l’impero, e lo chiederai.
SATURNINUS	Superbo e ambizioso Tribuno, che ne sai tu?
TITUS	Pazienza, Principe Saturnino.
SATURNINUS	Romani, fatemi giustizia. Patrizi, sguainate le spade, e non le rinfoderate Finché Saturnino non sia imperatore di Roma. Andronico, fossi tu imbarcato per l’inferno Piuttosto che rubarmi i cuori del popolo!
LUCIUS	Superbo Saturnino, interruttore del bene Che il nobile animo di Tito intende per te.
TITUS	Acquietati, Principe. Io ti restituirò I cuori del popolo, e li svezzerò da sé stessi.
BASSIANUS	Andronico, io non ti lusingo Ma t’onoro, e lo farò fino alla morte. Se rafforzerai la mia parte coi tuoi amici Te ne sarò gratissimo; e la gratitudine agli uomini D’animo nobile è onorevole mercede.
TITUS	Popolo di Roma, e tribuni del popolo qui presenti, Chiedo le vostre voci e i vostri suffragi. Volete concederli amichevolmente ad Andronico?
TRIBUNI	Per compiacere il buon Andronico E rallegrarsi del suo salvo ritorno a Roma Il popolo accetterà chi egli ammetterà.
TITUS	Tribuni, vi ringrazio, e questa domanda faccio: Che creiate il figlio maggiore del nostro imperatore, Il signor Saturnino, le cui virtù, spero, Rifletteranno su Roma come i raggi di Titano sulla terra, E matureranno la giustizia in questo Stato. Se dunque volete eleggere secondo il mio consiglio, Incoronatelo e dite: ‘Lunga vita al nostro Imperatore!’
MARCUS	Con voci e applausi d’ogni ordine, Patrizi e plebei, noi creiamo Il signor Saturnino grande imperatore di Roma, E diciamo: ‘Lunga vita al nostro Imperatore Saturnino!’
(didascalia)	Un lungo squillo mentre Marco e gli altri
MARCUS	Tribuni, con Saturnino e Bassiano, scendono. Marco riveste Saturnino del bianco
(didascalia)	palio e gli porge uno scettro
SATURNINUS	Tito Andronico, per i favori resi A noi nella nostra elezione in questo giorno Ti rendo grazie in parte dei tuoi meriti, E con opere ricambierò la tua cortesia. E per cominciare, Tito, a innalzare Il tuo nome e l’onorevole tua famiglia, Lavinia farò mia imperatrice, Regale signora di Roma, signora del mio cuore, E nel sacro Panteon la sposerò. Dimmi, Andronico, ti piace questa proposta?
TITUS	Mi piace, mio degno signore, e in queste nozze Mi tengo altamente onorato da vostra grazia, E qui alla vista di Roma a Saturnino, Re e comandante del nostro Stato, Imperatore del vasto mondo, io consacro La mia spada, il mio carro e i miei prigionieri— Doni ben degni dell’imperioso signore di Roma. Ricevili, dunque, il tributo che devo, Le insegne del mio onore umiliate ai tuoi piedi.
SATURNINUS	Grazie, nobile Tito, padre della mia vita. Quanto io sia fiero di te e dei tuoi doni Roma lo registrerà; e quando io dimenticassi Il minimo di questi ineffabili meriti, Romani, dimenticate la vostra fedeltà a me.
TITUS	(a Tamora) Ora, signora, siete prigioniera d’un imperatore, Di colui che per il vostro onore e il vostro stato Tratterà nobilmente voi e i vostri seguaci.
SATURNINUS	Una bella dama, credetemi, del colore Che sceglierei se dovessi scegliere di nuovo. Rischiarate, bella regina, quel volto nuvoloso. Se pur la sorte della guerra ha operato questo mutamento d’ umore, Non venite per esser fatta scherno in Roma. Principesco sarà in ogni modo il trattamento vostro. Fidatevi della mia parola, e non lasciate che il malcontento Abbatta ogni vostra speranza. Signora, colui che vi consola Può farvi più grande della Regina dei Goti. Lavinia, non vi dispiace questo?
LAVINIA	A me no, mio signore, poiché la vera nobiltà Garantisce queste parole in principesca cortesia.
SATURNINUS	Grazie, dolce Lavinia. Romani, andiamo. Senza riscatto qui liberiamo i nostri prigionieri. Proclamate i nostri onori, signori, con tromba e tamburo.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Escono Saturnino, Tamora, Demetrio, Chirone e Aronne il Moro
BASSIANUS	Signor Tito,.con vostra licenza, questa fanciulla è mia.
TITUS	Come, signore, dite dunque da senno, mio signore?
BASSIANUS	Sì, nobile Tito, e risoluto inoltre A rendere a me stesso questa ragione e questo diritto.
MARCUS	Suum cuique è la nostra giustizia romana. Questo principe per giustizia non prende che il suo.
LUCIUS	E ciò egli vuole e farà, se Lucio vive.
TITUS	Traditori, via! Dov’è la guardia dell’Imperatore?
MUTIUS	Fratelli, aiutate a portarla via di qui, E con la mia spada terrò sicura questa porta.
(didascalia)	Escono Bassiano, Marco, Quinto e Marzio, con Lavinia
MUTIUS	(A Tito) Mio signore, di qui non passate.
TITUS	Che, scellerato ragazzo, Mi sbarri la via in Roma? Assale Muzio
MUTIUS	Aiuto, Lucio, aiuto! Tito lo uccide
LUCIUS	(a Tito) Mio signore, siete ingiusto; e più ancora, In contesa ingiusta avete ucciso vostro figlio.
TITUS	Né tu né lui siete figli miei. I miei figli non mi disonorerebbero mai così. Traditore, restituisci Lavinia all’Imperatore.
LUCIUS	Morta, se volete, ma non per esser moglie a lui Colei che è il legittimo promesso amore d’un altro.
(didascalia)	Esce col corpo di Muzio
(didascalia)	Entra in alto Saturnino l’Imperatore con Tamora
LUCIUS	e Chirone e Demetrio, i suoi due figli, e Aronne il Moro
TITUS	Seguitemi, mio signore, e presto la ricondurrò.
SATURNINUS	No, Tito, no. L’Imperatore non ha bisogno di lei, Né di lei, né di te, né d’alcuno della tua stirpe. Mi fiderò con calma di chi mi beffa una volta, Di te mai, né dei tuoi traditori superbi figli, Tutti confederati a disonorarmi così. Non v’era altri in Roma da far ludibrio Che Saturnino? Assai bene, Andronico, S’accordano queste opere con quel tuo superbo vanto Con cui dicesti che io mendicai l’impero dalle tue mani.
TITUS	Oh mostruoso, che parole d’oltraggio son queste?
SATURNINUS	Ma va’ per la tua via, va’ a dare quella volubile creatura A colui che per lei brandì la sua spada. Un valoroso genero godrai, Uno adatto a scambiar colpi coi tuoi figli senza legge, A far rissa nello Stato di Roma.
TITUS	Queste parole sono rasoi al mio cuore ferito.
SATURNINUS	E perciò, leggiadra Tamora, Regina dei Goti, Che come la maestosa Febe fra le sue ninfe Oscuri le più splendide dame di Roma, Se ti piace questa mia subitanea scelta, Ecco, io scelgo te, Tamora, per mia sposa, E ti creerò Imperatrice di Roma. Parla, Regina dei Goti, approvi la mia scelta? E qui giuro per tutti gli dèi romani, Poiché il sacerdote e l’acqua santa son sì vicini, E i ceri ardono sì chiari, e ogni cosa Sta in pronto per Imeneo, Che non risaluterò le vie di Roma, Né salirò al mio palazzo, finché da questo luogo Non conduca sposa la mia sposa con me.
TAMORA	E qui, alla vista del cielo, a Roma io giuro Che se Saturnino innalza la Regina dei Goti Ella sarà ancella ai suoi desideri, Amorevole nutrice, madre alla sua giovinezza.
SATURNINUS	Ascendi, bella Regina, al Panteon. Signori, accompagnate Il vostro nobile imperatore e la sua leggiadra sposa, Mandata dai cieli per il Principe Saturnino, La cui saggezza ha vinto la fortuna di lei. Là consumeremo i nostri riti nuziali.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Tito
TITUS	Non son invitato a far corteggio a questa sposa. Tito, quando fosti tu usato a camminare solo, Così disonorato e accusato di torti?
(didascalia)	Entrano Marco e i figli di Tito Lucio, Quinto e
(didascalia)	Marzio, portando il corpo di Muzio
MARCUS	Oh Tito, vedi, oh vedi che hai fatto— In mala contesa ucciso un virtuoso figlio.
TITUS	No, sciocco Tribuno, no; nessun figlio mio, Né tu, né questi, confederati nell’atto Che ha disonorato tutta la nostra famiglia; Indegno fratello e indegni figli!
LUCIUS	Ma diamogli sepoltura come si conviene, Date a Muzio sepoltura coi nostri fratelli.
TITUS	Traditori, via, egli non riposa in questa tomba. Questo monumento sta da cinquecento anni, Ch’io ho sontuosamente riedificato. Qui nessuno se non soldati e servitori di Roma Riposa nella fama, nessuno vilmente ucciso in risse. Seppellitelo dove potete; qui non entra.
MARCUS	Mio signore, questa è empietà in voi. Le opere di mio nipote Muzio perorano per lui. Deve esser sepolto coi suoi fratelli.
(didascalia)	QUINTUS e MARTIUS
MARCUS	E lo sarà, o lo accompagneremo noi.
TITUS	‘E lo sarà’? Quale scellerato ha detto quella parola?
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
TITUS	Colui che lo sosterrebbe in qualunque luogo fuor che qui.
TITUS	Che, lo seppellireste a mio dispetto?
MARCUS	No, nobile Tito, ma ti preghiamo Di perdonare Muzio e di seppellirlo.
TITUS	Marco, anche tu hai colpito il mio cimiero, E con questi ragazzi il mio onore hai ferito. Miei nemici vi reputo tutti quanti, Dunque non mi molestate più, ma andatevene.
(didascalia)	MARTIUS
TITUS	Non è in sé, ritiriamoci.
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
TITUS	Io no, finché le ossa di Muzio non sian sepolte. Marco, Lucio, Quinto e Marzio s’inginocchiano
MARCUS	Fratello, ché in quel nome la natura perora—
(didascalia)	QUINTUS
MARCUS	Padre, e in quel nome la natura parla—
TITUS	Non parlare più, se tutti gli altri vogliono aver buon esito.
MARCUS	Celebrato Tito, più che metà della mia anima—
LUCIUS	Caro padre, anima e sostanza di noi tutti—
MARCUS	Permetti a tuo fratello Marco di seppellire Il suo nobile nipote qui nel nido della virtù, Che morì per l’onore e per la causa di Lavinia. Tu sei romano; non essere barbaro. I Greci per consiglio seppellirono Aiace, Che s’uccise; e il figlio del saggio Laerte Perorò graziosamente per i suoi funerali. Non sia dunque al giovane Muzio, che fu la tua gioia, Vietato l’ingresso qui.
TITUS	Alzati, Marco, alzati. Questo è il giorno più tetro che mai vidi, Esser disonorato dai miei figli in Roma. Bene, seppellitelo, e seppellite me appresso. Depongono Muzio nella tomba
LUCIUS	Là giacciano le tue ossa, dolce Muzio, con quelle dei tuoi, Finché di trofei non adorniamo la tua tomba. 385
(didascalia)	TUTTI TRANNE TITO (inginocchiandosi)
LUCIUS	Nessuno versi lacrime per il nobile Muzio; Vive nella fama chi morì per la causa della virtù.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Marco e Tito
MARCUS	Mio signore—per uscire da questa tetra malinconia— Come avviene che la sottile Regina dei Goti Sia d’improvviso così innalzata in Roma?
TITUS	Non so, Marco, ma so che così è— Se per macchinazione o no, i cieli lo possono dire. Non è dunque ella obbligata all’uomo Che di sì lontano la condusse per questo alto favore?
(didascalia)	MARCUS
TITUS	Sì, e nobilmente lo rimunererà.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano l’Imperatore Saturnino, Tamora,
TITUS	e i suoi due figli (Chirone e Demetrio), con Aronne il Moro da una porta.
(didascalia)	Entrano dall’altra porta Bassiano e Lavinia con
(didascalia)	Lucio, Quinto,
(didascalia)	e Marzio
SATURNINUS	Così, Bassiano, hai giocato la tua posta. Dio vi dia gioia, signore, della vostra galante sposa.
BASSIANUS	E a voi della vostra, mio signore. Non dico di più, Né auguro di meno; e così mi congedo.
SATURNINUS	Traditore, se Roma ha legge o noi abbiamo potere, Tu e la tua parte vi pentirete di questo ratto.
BASSIANUS	‘Ratto’ lo chiamate, mio signore, l’impadronirmi del mio— Il mio vero fidanzato amore, e ora mia moglie? Ma lascino le leggi di Roma decidere tutto; Intanto io possiedo ciò che è mio.
SATURNINUS	Sta bene, signore; siete molto breve con noi. Ma se viviamo saremo altrettanto taglienti con voi.
BASSIANUS	Mio signore, di ciò che ho fatto, come meglio posso Devo rispondere, e lo farò con la mia vita. Solo questo do a sapere a vostra grazia: Per tutti i doveri che debbo a Roma, Questo nobile gentiluomo, il signor Tito qui presente, È nella fama e nell’onore offeso, Egli che, nel ricupero di Lavinia, Con la propria mano uccise il figlio suo minore Per zelo verso di voi, e altamente mosso all’ira D’esser contrariato in ciò che donò francamente. Accoglietelo dunque in favore, Saturnino, Lui che s’è mostrato in tutte le sue opere Padre e amico a te e a Roma.
TITUS	Principe Bassiano, smetti di perorare le mie opere. Sei tu e quelli là che m’hanno disonorato.
(didascalia)	S’inginocchia
TITUS	Roma e i giusti cieli mi sian giudici Di come ho amato e onorato Saturnino!
TAMORA	(a Saturnino) Mio degno signore, se mai Tamora Fu grata a quei tuoi principeschi occhi, Ascoltami dunque parlare imparzialmente per tutti; E alla mia richiesta, dolce mio, perdona il passato.
SATURNINUS	Che, signora—esser disonorato apertamente E vilmente inghiottirlo senza vendetta?
TAMORA	Non così, mio signore. Gli dèi di Roma non permettano Ch’io sia causa di disonore per voi. Ma sul mio onore oso farmi garante Dell’innocenza del buon signor Tito in tutto, La cui furia non dissimulata dice i suoi dolori. Dunque alla mia richiesta guardatelo con grazia. Non perdete un amico sì nobile per vana supposizione, Né con sguardi acri affliggete il suo gentile cuore. (A parte, a Saturnino) Mio signore, lasciatevi guidare da me, cedete infine, Dissimulate tutti i vostri dolori e malcontenti. Voi siete appena piantato nel vostro trono; Ché altrimenti il popolo, e anche i patrizi, A un giusto esame prendano la parte di Tito, E così vi soppiantino per ingratitudine, Che Roma reputa peccato nefando, Cedete alle preghiere; e poi lasciate fare a me sola: Troverò un giorno per massacrarli tutti, E radere al suolo la loro fazione e la loro famiglia, Il crudele padre e i suoi traditori figli Cui supplicai per la vita del mio caro figlio, E far loro sapere che cosa sia lasciare una regina Inginocchiarsi per le strade e chiedere grazia in vano. (Ad alta voce) Venite, venite, dolce Imperatore; venite, Andronico, Rialzate questo buon vecchio, e rallegrate il cuore Che muore nella tempesta del tuo irato cipiglio.
SATURNINUS	Alzati, Tito, alzati; la mia imperatrice ha prevalso.
TITUS	(alzandosi) Ringrazio vostra maestà e lei, mio signore, Queste parole, questi sguardi, infondono in me nuova vita.
TAMORA	Tito, io sono incorporata in Roma, Romana ora felicemente adottata, E devo consigliare l’Imperatore per il suo bene. Oggi ogni contesa muore, Andronico; E sia mio onore, mio buon signore, D’aver riconciliato voi e i vostri amici. Per voi, Principe Bassiano, ho dato La mia parola e promessa all’Imperatore Che sarete più mite e trattabile. E non temete, signori, e voi, Lavinia; Per mio consiglio, tutti umiliati in ginocchio, Chiederete perdono a sua maestà.
(didascalia)	Bassiano, Lavinia, Lucio, Quinto e
TAMORA	Marzio s’inginocchiano
(didascalia)	LOCIUS
TAMORA	Lo facciamo, e giuriamo al cielo e a sua altezza Che ciò che facemmo fu mite quanto potevamo, Avendo caro l’onore di nostra sorella e il nostro.
(didascalia)	MARCUS inginocchiandosi
TAMORA	Ciò sul mio onore qui io protesto.
SATURNINUS	Via, e non parlate, non ci molestate più.
TAMORA	No, no, dolce Imperatore, dobbiamo tutti esser amici. Il Tribuno e i suoi nipoti s’inginocchiano per grazia. Non sarò ricusata; cuor mio, volgiti a guardare.
SATURNINUS	Marco, per amor tuo e di tuo fratello qui presente, E alle preghiere della mia leggiadra Tamora, Rimetto le nefande colpe di questi giovani. Alzatevi! Marco, Bassiano, Lavinia e i figli di Tito s’alzano Lavinia, sebbene m’abbiate lasciato come un villano, Trovai un’amica, e certo come la morte giurai Che non me ne sarei partito celibe dal sacerdote. Venite, se la corte dell’Imperatore può banchettare due spose Voi siete mia ospite, Lavinia, e i vostri amici. Questo giorno sarà giorno d’amore, Tamora.
TITUS	Domani, se piaccia a vostra maestà Di cacciare con me la pantera e il cervo, Con corno e cane daremo a vostra grazia il bonjour.
(didascalia)	Così sia, Tito, e grandi grazie ancora. Squilli di trombe. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron alone.
AARON	Now climbeth Tamora Olympus’ top, Safe out of fortune’s shot, and sits aloft, Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash, Advanced above pale envy’s threat’ning reach. As when the golden sun salutes the morn And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach And overlooks the highest-peering hills, So Tamora. Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long Hast prisoner held fettered in amorous chains, And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold To wait upon this new-made empress. To wait, said I?—to wanton with this queen, This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, This siren that will charm Rome’s Saturnine And see his shipwreck and his commonweal’s. Hollo, what storm is this?
(didascalia)	Enter Chiron and Demetrius, braving
DEMETRIUS	Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge And manners to intrude where I am graced And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be.
CHIRON	Demetrius, thou dost overween in all, And so in this, to bear me down with braves. ‘Tis not the difference of a year or two Makes me less gracious, or thee more fortunate. I am as able and as fit as thou To serve, and to deserve my mistress’ grace, And that my sword upon thee shall approve, And plead my passions for Lavinia’s love.
AARON	(aside) Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace.
DEMETRIUS	Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends? Go to, have your lath glued within your sheath Till you know better how to handle it.
CHIRON	Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
DEMETRIUS	Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? They draw
AARON	Why, how now, lords? So near the Emperor’s palace dare ye draw And maintain such a quarrel openly? Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge. I would not for a million of gold The cause were known to them it most concerns, Nor would your noble mother for much more Be so dishonoured in the court of Rome. For shame, put up.
DEMETRIUS	Not I, till I have sheathed My rapier in his bosom, and withal Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.
CHIRON	For that I am prepared and full resolved, Foul-spoken coward, that thund‘rest with thy tongue, And with thy weapon nothing dar’st perform.
AARON	Away, I say. Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, This petty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous It is to jet upon 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? Young lords, beware; and should the Empress know This discord’s 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.
DEMETRIUS	Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice. Lavinia is thine elder brother’s hope.
AARON	Why, are ye mad? Or know ye 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	Aaron, a thousand deaths Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
AARON	To achieve her how?
DEMETRIUS	Why makes thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. What, man, more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of, and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know. Though Bassianus be the Emperor’s brother, Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge.
AARON	(aside) Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
DEMETRIUS	Then why should he despair that knows to court it With words, fair looks, and liberality? What, hast not thou full often struck a doe And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose?
AARON	Why then, it seems some certain snatch or so Would serve your turns.
CHIRON	Ay, so the turn were served.
DEMETRIUS	Aaron, thou hast hit it.
AARON	Would you had hit it too, Then should not we be tired with this ado. Why, hark ye, hark ye, and are you such fools To square for this? Would it offend you then That both should speed?
CHIRON	Faith, not me.
DEMETRIUS	Nor me, so I were one.
AARON	For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar. ‘Tis policy and stratagem must do That you affect, and so must you resolve That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may. Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love. A speedier course than ling’ring languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path. My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; There will the lovely Roman ladies troop. The forest walks are wide and spacious, And many unfrequented plots there are, Fitted by kind for rape and villainy. Single you thither then this dainty doe, And strike her home by force, if not by words, This way or not at all stand you in hope. Come, come; our Empress, with her sacred wit To villainy and vengeance consecrate, Will we acquaint with all what we intend, And she shall file our engines with advice That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes’ height advance you both. The Emperor’s court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes and ears, The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull. There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns. There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven’s eye, And revel in Lavinia’s treasury.
CHIRON	Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice.
DEMETRIUS	Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, Per Styga, per manes vehor. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entra Aronne solo.
AARON	Or Tamora scala la cima d’Olimpo, Fuor del tiro della fortuna, e siede in alto, Sicura dallo schianto del tuono e dal guizzo del fulmine, Innalzata oltre la minacciosa presa della pallida invidia. Come quando il sole d’oro saluta il mattino E, indorato l’oceano co’ suoi raggi, Galoppa lo zodiaco nel suo carro splendente E sovrasta i colli che più alti si ergono, Così Tamora. Al suo ingegno l’onore terreno fa scorta, E la virtù s’inchina e trema al suo cipiglio. Dunque, Aronne, arma il tuo cuore e volgi i pensieri A salire in alto con la tua imperiale signora, E a raggiungere la vetta di colei che a lungo in trionfo Tenesti prigioniera, avvinta in amorose catene, E più strettamente legata agli occhi incantatori d’Aronne Che non sia Prometeo al Caucaso. Via i panni servili e i pensieri da schiavo! Sarò splendente, e brillerò di perle e d’oro Per servire questa imperatrice appena fatta. Servire, ho detto?—no, folleggiare con questa regina, Questa dea, questa Semiramide, questa ninfa, Questa sirena che incanterà il Saturnino di Roma E vedrà il naufragio suo e dello Stato. Olà, che tempesta è questa?
(didascalia)	Entrano Chirone e Demetrio, in atteggiamento di sfida
DEMETRIUS	Chirone, ai tuoi anni manca senno, al tuo senno manca il filo E il garbo, per intrudersi là dove io son favorito E posso, per quel che ne sai, essere amato.
CHIRON	Demetrio, tu presumi troppo in tutto, E così in questo, di sopraffarmi con le bravate. Non è la differenza d’un anno o due Che mi rende men grato, o te più fortunato. Io son valente e adatto quanto te A servire, e a meritare il favore della mia signora, E ciò la mia spada su di te proverà, E perorerà la mia passione per l’amore di Lavinia.
AARON	(a parte) Randelli, randelli! Questi innamorati non terranno la pace.
DEMETRIUS	Ehi, ragazzo, se pure nostra madre, incauta, Ti diede al fianco uno spadino da ballo, Sei divenuto sì temerario da minacciare gli amici? Va’ via, fatti incollare quel legnetto nel fodero Finché non sappia meglio maneggiarlo.
CHIRON	Intanto, signore, con la poca perizia che ho Assai bene vedrai quanto io osi.
DEMETRIUS	Ah, ragazzo, ti fai così ardito? Sguainano
AARON	Ebbene, che è questo, signori? Sì presso al palazzo dell’Imperatore osate sguainare E sostenere apertamente tale contesa? Assai bene conosco il fondo di tutto questo rancore. Non vorrei per un milione d’oro Che la causa fosse nota a chi più la riguarda, Né la vostra nobile madre vorrebbe per molto più Essere così disonorata nella corte di Roma. Vergogna, rinfoderate.
DEMETRIUS	Non io, finché non abbia inguainato Il mio stocco nel suo petto, e insieme Ricacciato in gola quelle parole oltraggiose Che egli ha esalato qui a mio disonore.
CHIRON	A ciò son preparato e ben risoluto, Codardo dalla lingua sozza, che tuoni con la lingua, E con l’arma nulla osi compiere.
AARON	Via, vi dico. Or, per gli dèi che i bellicosi Goti adorano, Questa meschina baruffa ci rovinerà tutti. Ebbene, signori, non pensate quanto sia pericoloso Usurpare il diritto d’un principe? Che, è dunque Lavinia divenuta sì leggera, O Bassiano sì degenere, Che per il suo amore tali contese si possano aprire Senza freno, giustizia o vendetta? Giovani signori, badate; e se l’Imperatrice sapesse Il fondamento di questa discordia, la musica non piacerebbe.
CHIRON	Non m’importa, io, che lo sappia lei e tutto il mondo, Io amo Lavinia più di tutto il mondo.
DEMETRIUS	Ragazzino, impara a fare scelta più modesta. Lavinia è la speranza del tuo fratello maggiore.
AARON	Ebbene, siete pazzi? O non sapete che in Roma Quanto siano furiosi e impazienti, E non tollerano rivali in amore? Vi dico, signori, non fate che tramare la vostra morte Con questo disegno.
CHIRON	Aronne, mille morti Mi proporrei per ottenere colei che amo.
AARON	Ottenerla come?
DEMETRIUS	Perché te ne fai tanta meraviglia? È donna, dunque può esser corteggiata; È donna, dunque può esser conquistata; È Lavinia, dunque deve esser amata. Che, amico, più acqua scorre presso il mulino Di quanta il mugnaio ne sappia, ed è facile Da un pane già tagliato rubare una fetta, si sa. Se anche Bassiano è fratello dell’Imperatore, Meglio di lui hanno portato l’insegna di Vulcano.
AARON	(a parte) Sì, e uno buono quanto Saturnino lo può.
DEMETRIUS	Perché dunque dovrebbe disperare chi sa fare la corte Con parole, sguardi cortesi e larghezza? Che, non hai tu ben spesso colpito una cerva E portatala via netta sotto il naso del guardiano?
AARON	Ebbene, pare che un certo bocconcino o simile Farebbe al caso vostro.
CHIRON	Sì, purché il caso fosse servito.
DEMETRIUS	Aronne, l’hai colto in pieno.
AARON	Volesse il cielo l’avessi colto anche tu, Che allora non saremmo stanchi di questo baccano. Ebbene, udite, udite, e siete tali sciocchi Da azzuffarvi per questo? Vi offenderebbe dunque Che ambedue avessero fortuna?
CHIRON	In fede, non me.
DEMETRIUS	Né me, purché io fossi uno dei due.
AARON	Vergogna, siate amici, e unitevi per ciò di cui contendete. Sono accortezza e stratagemma che devono ottenere Ciò che bramate, e così dovete risolvere Che quel che non potete ottenere come vorreste, Dovete per forza compierlo come potete. Prendete da me questo: Lucrezia non fu più casta Di questa Lavinia, amore di Bassiano. Un corso più rapido che un languire prolungato Dobbiamo seguire, e io ho trovato la via. Signori miei, s’apparecchia una caccia solenne; Là s’affolleranno le leggiadre dame romane. I sentieri della foresta son larghi e spaziosi, E molti luoghi appartati vi sono, Fatti per natura allo stupro e alla scelleratezza. Isolate colà dunque questa delicata cerva, E colpitela a fondo con la forza, se non con le parole, Per questa via o in nessun modo state in speranza. Venite, venite; la nostra Imperatrice, col suo sacro ingegno Consacrato alla scelleratezza e alla vendetta, La informeremo di tutto ciò che intendiamo, Ed ella affilerà i nostri ordigni col consiglio Che non permetterà che voi vi azzuffiate tra voi, Ma innalzerà entrambi al culmine dei vostri desideri. La corte dell’Imperatore è come la casa della Fama, Il palazzo pieno di lingue, d’occhi e d’orecchi, I boschi sono implacabili, terribili, sordi e ottusi. Là parlate e colpite, bravi ragazzi, e prendete il vostro turno. Là saziate la vostra libidine, celati all’occhio del cielo, E gozzovigliate nel tesoro di Lavinia.
CHIRON	Il tuo consiglio, ragazzo, non sa di codardia.
DEMETRIUS	Sit fas aut nefas, finché non trovi il rivo Per raffreddare quest’arsura, un incanto per calmare questi accessi, Per Styga, per manes vehor. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sons (Quintus, Lucius, and Martius), and Marcus, making a noise with hounds and horns
TITUS	The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant and the woods are green. Uncouple here, and let us make a bay And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride, And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter’s peal, That all the court may echo with the noise. Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, To attend the Emperor’s person carefully. I have been troubled in my sleep this night, But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal; then enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and their attendants Many good-morrows to your majesty. Madam, to you as many, and as good. I promised your grace a hunter’s peal.
SATURNINUS	And you have rung it lustily, my lords, Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
BASSIANUS	Lavinia, how say you?
LAVINIA	I say no. I have been broad awake two hours and more.
SATURNINUS	Come on then, horse and chariots let us have, And to our sport. (To Tamora) Madam, now shall ye see Our Roman hunting.
MARCUS	I have dogs, my lord, Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, And climb the highest promontory top.
TITUS	And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows o’er the plain.
DEMETRIUS	(aside) Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Tito Andronico e i suoi tre figli (Quinto, Lucio e Marzio), e Marco, facendo strepito con cani e corni
TITUS	La caccia è levata, il mattino è chiaro e grigio, Fragranti sono i campi e verdi i boschi. Sciogliete qui i segugi, e leviamo un latrato E destiamo l’Imperatore e la sua leggiadra sposa, E scuotiamo il Principe, e suoni la fanfara del cacciatore, Sì che tutta la corte echeggi di quel frastuono. Figli, sia vostro incarico, com’è il nostro, Vegliare con cura sulla persona dell’Imperatore. Fui turbato nel mio sonno questa notte, Ma il giorno nascente ha ispirato nuovo conforto. Qui un latrato di cani, e i corni si suonino a fanfara; poi entrano Saturnino, Tamora, Bassiano, Lavinia, Chirone, Demetrio, e i loro seguaci Molti buongiorno a vostra maestà. Signora, a voi altrettanti, e altrettanto buoni. Promisi a vostra grazia una fanfara di caccia.
SATURNINUS	E l’avete suonata di gran lena, miei signori, Alquanto troppo per tempo per dame appena sposate.
BASSIANUS	Lavinia, che ne dite voi?
LAVINIA	Dico di no. Son ben desta da due ore e più.
SATURNINUS	Su dunque, si abbiano cavalli e carri, E al nostro diporto. (A Tamora) Signora, or vedrete La nostra caccia romana.
MARCUS	Ho cani, mio signore, Che leveranno la più superba pantera nella caccia, E scaleranno la vetta del più alto promontorio.
TITUS	E io ho cavalli che seguiranno ovunque la preda Si apra il varco, e corron come rondini per la piana.
DEMETRIUS	(a parte) Chirone, noi non cacciamo, noi, con cavallo né con segugio, Ma speriamo d’abbattere al suolo una delicata cerva. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron alone, with gold
AARON	He that had wit would think that I had none, To bury so much gold under 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. And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest That have their alms out of the Empress’ chest. He hides the gold.
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora alone to the Moor
TAMORA	My lovely Aaron, wherefore look‘st thou sad When everything doth make a gleeful boast? The birds chant melody on every bush, The snakes lies rolled in the cheerful sun, The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequered shadow on the ground. Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise, And after conflict such as was supposed The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed When with a happy storm they were surprised, And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave, We may, each wreathed in the other’s arms, Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurse’s song Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
AARON	Madam, though Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine. What signifies my deadly-standing eye, My silence, and my cloudy melancholy, My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls Even as an adder when she doth unroll 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 hammering in my head. 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 today, Thy sons make pillage of her chastity And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood. Seest thou this letter? (Giving a letter) Take it up, I pray thee, And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll. Now question me no more. We are espied. Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, Which dreads not yet their lives’ destruction.
(didascalia)	Enter Bassianus and Lavinia
TAMORA	(aside to Aaron) Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
AARON	(aside to Tamora) No more, great Empress; Bassianus comes. Be cross with him, and I’ll go fetch thy sons To back thy quarrels, whatsoe’er they be. Exit
BASSIANUS	Who have we here? Rome’s royal empress Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop? Or is it Dian, habited like her Who hath abandoned her holy groves To see the general hunting in this forest?
TAMORA	Saucy controller of my private steps, Had I the power that some say Dian had, Thy temples should be planted presently With horns, as was Actaeon’s, and the hounds Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, Unmannerly intruder as thou art!
LAVINIA	Under your patience, gentle Empress, ‘Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning, And to be doubted that your Moor and you Are singled forth to try experiments. Jove shield your husband from his hounds today— ‘Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
BASSIANUS	Believe me, Queen, your swart Cimmerian Doth make your honour of his body’s hue, Spotted, detested, and abominable. Why are you sequestered from all your train, Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, And wandered hither to an obscure plot, Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, If foul desire had not conducted you?
LAVINIA	And being intercepted in your sport, Great reason that my noble lord be rated For sauciness. (To Bassianus) I pray you, let us hence, And let her joy her raven-coloured love. This valley fits the purpose passing well.
BASSIANUS	The King my brother shall have note of this.
LAVINIA	Ay, for these slips have made him noted long. Good King, to be so mightily abused!
TAMORA	Why have I patience to endure all this?
(didascalia)	Enter Chiron and Demetrius
DEMETRIUS	How now, dear sovereign and our gracious mother, Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?
TAMORA	Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? These two have ‘ticed me hither to this place. A barren detested vale you see it is; The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe. Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven, And when they showed me this abhorred pit They told me here at dead time of the night A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins Would make such fearful and confused cries As any mortal body hearing it Should straight fall mad or else die suddenly. No sooner had they told this hellish tale But straight they told me they would bind me here Unto the body of a dismal yew And leave me to this miserable death. And then they called me foul adulteress, Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest 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 be ye not henceforward called my children.
DEMETRIUS	This is a witness that I am thy son. He stabs Bassianus
CHIRON	And this for me, struck home to show my strength. He stabs Bassianus, who dies.
(didascalia)	Tamora turns to Lavinia
LAVINIA	Ay, come, Semiramis—nay, barbarous Tamora, For no name fits thy nature but thy own.
TAMORA	(to Chiron) Give me the poniard. You shall know, my boys, Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong.
DEMETRIUS	Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her. First thresh the corn, then after burn the straw. This minion stood upon her chastity, Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, And with that quaint hope braves your mightiness. And shall she carry this unto her grave?
CHIRON	An if she do I would I were an eunuch. Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
TAMORA	But when ye have the honey ye desire Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
CHIRON	I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure. Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, thou bearest a woman’s face—
TAMORA	I will not hear her speak. Away with her!
LAVINIA	Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
DEMETRIUS	(to Tamora) Listen, fair madam, let it be your glory To see her tears, but be your heart to them As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
LAVINIA	When did the tiger’s young ones teach the dam? O, do not learn her wrath! She taught it thee. The milk thou sucked’st from her did turn to marble, Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. Yet every mother breeds not sons alike. (To Chiron) Do thou entreat her show a woman’s pity.
CHIRON	What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
LAVINIA	’Tis true, the raven doth not hatch a lark. Yet have I heard—O, could I find it now!— The lion, moved with pity, did endure To have his princely paws pared all away. Some say that ravens foster forlorn children The whilst their own birds famish in their nests. O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.
TAMORA	I know not what it means. Away with her!
LAVINIA	O, let me teach thee for my father’s sake, That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee. Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
TAMORA	Hadst thou in person ne’er offended me Even for his sake am I pitiless. Remember, boys, I poured forth tears in vain To save your brother from the sacrifice, But fierce Andronicus would not relent. Therefore away with her, and use her as you will— The worse to her, the better loved of me.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, be called a gentle queen, And with thine own hands kill me in this place; For ’tis not life that I have begged so long; Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
TAMORA	What begg’st thou then, fond woman? Let me go.
LAVINIA	’Tis present death I beg, and one thing more That womanhood denies my tongue to tell. O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust, And tumble me into some loathsome pit Where never man’s eye may behold my body. Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
TAMORA	So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee. No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
DEMETRIUS	(to Lavinia) Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long.
LAVINIA	No grace, no womanhood—ah, beastly creature, The blot and enemy to our general name, Confusion fall—
CHIRON	Nay then, I’ll stop your mouth. (To Demetrius) Bring thou her husband. This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. Demetrius and Chiron cast Bassianus’ body into the
(didascalia)	pit and cover the mouth of it with branches, then
CHIRON	exeunt dragging Lavinia
TAMORA	Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure. Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed Till all the Andronici be made away. Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower. Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron with Quintus
TAMORA	and Martius, two of Titus’ sons
AARON	Come on, my lords, the better foot before. Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
QUINTUS	My sight is very dull, whate’er it bodes.
MARTIUS	And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame, Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. He falls into the pit
QUINTUS	What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this, Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers? A very fatal place it seems to me. Speak, brother. Hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
MARTIUS	O brother, with the dismall’st object hurt That ever eye with sight made heart lament.
AARON	(aside) Now will I fetch the King to find them here, That he thereby may have a likely guess How these were they that made away his brother.
(didascalia)	Exit
MARTIUS	Why dost not comfort me and help me out From this unhallowed and bloodstained hole?
QUINTUS	I am surprised with an uncouth fear. A chilling sweat o’erruns my trembling joints; My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
MARTIUS	To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
QUINTUS	Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart Will not permit mine eyes once to behold The thing whereat it trembles by surmise. O, tell me who it is, for ne’er till now Was I a child to fear I know not what.
MARTIUS	Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb, In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINTUS	If it be dark how dost thou know ’tis he?
MARTIUS	Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring that lightens all this hole, Which like a taper in some monument Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks And shows the ragged entrails of this pit. So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. O brother, help me with thy fainting hand— If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath— Out of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
QUINTUS	Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, I may be plucked into the swallowing womb Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave. I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink,
MARTIUS	Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
QUINTUS	Thy hand once more, I will not loose again Till thou art here aloft or I below. Thou canst not come to me; I come to thee. He falls into the pit.
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus the Emperor with attendants,
QUINTUS	and Aaron the Moor
SATURNINUS	Along with me! I’ll see what hole is here, And what he is that now is leapt into it. He speaks into the pit Say, who art thou that lately didst descend Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
MARTIUS	The unhappy sons of old Andronicus, Brought hither in a most unlucky hour To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
SATURNINUS	My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest. He and his lady both are at the lodge Upon the north side of this pleasant chase. ‘Tis not an hour since I left them there.
MARTIUS	We know not where you left them all alive, But, out alas, here have we found him dead!
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora, Titus Andronicus, and Lucius
TAMORA	Where is my lord the King?
SATURNINUS	Here, Tamora, though gripped with killing grief.
TAMORA	Where is thy brother Bassianus?
SATURNINUS	Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound. Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
TAMORA	Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, The complot of this timeless tragedy, And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. She giveth Saturnine a letter
SATURNINUS	(reads) ‘An if we miss to meet him handsomely, Sweet huntsman—Bassianus ’tis we mean— Do thou so much as dig the grave for him. Thou know‘st our meaning. Look for thy reward Among the nettles at the elder tree Which overshades the mouth of that same pit Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.’ O Tamora, was ever heard the like! This is the pit, and this the elder tree. Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out That should have murdered Bassianus here.
AARON	My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
SATURNINUS	(to Titus) Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind, Have here bereft my brother of his life. Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison. There let them bide until we have devised Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
TAMORA	What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! How easily murder is discovered! Attendants drag Quintus, Martius, and Bassianus’ body from the pit
TITUS	(kneeling) High Emperor, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed: That this fell fault of my accursed sons— Accursed if the fault be proved in them—
SATURNINUS	If it be proved? You see it is apparent. Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
TAMORA	Andronicus himself did take it up.
TITUS	I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail, For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow They shall be ready at your highness’ will To answer their suspicion with their lives.
SATURNINUS	Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me. Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers. Let them not speak a word—the guilt is plain; For by my soul, were there worse end than death
(didascalia)	That end upon them should be executed. Exit
TAMORA	Andronicus, I will entreat the King. Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough.
(didascalia)	TITUS rising
TAMORA	Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entra Aronne solo, con dell’oro
AARON	Chi avesse senno penserebbe ch’io non n’abbia, A seppellire tanto oro sotto un albero E a non ereditarlo mai più dipoi. Chi di me pensa così abiettamente Sappia che quest’oro deve coniare uno stratagemma Che, condotto con astuzia, genererà Un’eccellentissima opera di scelleratezza. E dunque riposa, dolce oro, per l’inquietudine di quelli Che hanno la loro elemosina dallo scrigno dell’Imperatrice. Nasconde l’oro.
(didascalia)	Entra Tamora sola, verso il Moro
TAMORA	Mio leggiadro Aronne, perché hai l’aria mesta Quando ogni cosa fa lieto vanto? Gli uccelli cantano melodie su ogni cespuglio, Le serpi giacciono ravvolte nel sole giocondo, Le verdi foglie fremono al vento rinfrescante E fanno un’ombra screziata sul terreno. Sotto la loro dolce ombra, Aronne, sediamoci, E mentre l’eco cianciera schernisce i segugi, Rispondendo stridula ai corni bene intonati, Come se una doppia caccia s’udisse a un tempo, Sediamoci e ascoltiamo il loro clamore latrante, E dopo un amplesso quale si suppone Godessero un tempo il principe errante e Didone Quando da una propizia tempesta furon sorpresi E velati da una caverna custode di segreti, Potremo, avvinti l’uno nelle braccia dell’altro, Finiti i nostri diletti, godere un aureo sopore Mentre segugi e corni e dolci melodiosi uccelli Ci saranno come il canto d’una nutrice Di ninnananna per addormentare il suo bimbo.
AARON	Signora, benché Venere governi i vostri desideri, Saturno è dominatore sui miei. Che significa il mio occhio fisso e mortale, Il mio silenzio, e la mia fosca malinconia, Il mio vello di capelli lanosi che ora si distende Proprio come una vipera quando si svolge Per compiere qualche fatale esecuzione? No, signora, questi non sono segni venerei. La vendetta è nel mio cuore, la morte nella mia mano, Sangue e vendetta martellano nel mio capo. Odi, Tamora, imperatrice dell’anima mia, Che non spera altro cielo di quello che in te riposa, Questo è il giorno del giudizio per Bassiano. La sua Filomela deve perdere oggi la lingua, I tuoi figli faran preda della sua castità E si laveran le mani nel sangue di Bassiano. Vedi tu questa lettera? (Le dà una lettera) Raccoglila, ti prego, E dà al Re questo rotolo di fatale trama. Or non chiedermi altro. Siamo spiati. Ecco venire una parte della nostra promettente preda, Che ancor non teme la distruzione delle proprie vite.
(didascalia)	Entrano Bassiano e Lavinia
TAMORA	(a parte, a Aronne) Ah, mio dolce Moro, più dolce per me della vita!
AARON	(a parte, a Tamora) Non più, grande Imperatrice; viene Bassiano. Sii aspra con lui, e io andrò a chiamare i tuoi figli A sostener le tue contese, quali che siano. Esce
BASSIANUS	Chi abbiamo qui? La regale imperatrice di Roma Sprovvista del corteo che bene le si conviene? O è Diana, vestita come lei, Che ha abbandonato i suoi sacri boschetti Per veder la caccia generale in questa foresta?
TAMORA	Insolente censore dei miei passi privati, Avessi io il potere che alcuni dicono di Diana, Le tue tempie sarebbero all’istante piantate Di corna, come quelle d’Atteone, e i segugi Si avventerebbero sulle tue membra or ora trasformate, Villano intruso che tu sei!
LAVINIA	Con vostra licenza, gentile Imperatrice, Si pensa che abbiate un bel dono nell’innestar corna, E c’è da sospettare che il vostro Moro e voi Vi siate appartati per far esperimenti. Giove protegga oggi vostro marito dai suoi segugi— Sarebbe un peccato che lo prendessero per un cervo.
BASSIANUS	Credetemi, Regina, il vostro fosco Cimmerio Fa del vostro onore il colore del suo corpo, Macchiato, detestato e abominevole. Perché siete appartata da tutto il vostro seguito, Scesa dal vostro bel destriero bianco come neve, E qui vagata fino a un luogo oscuro, Accompagnata soltanto da un barbaro Moro, Se turpe desiderio non vi avesse condotta?
LAVINIA	E, essendo interrotta nel vostro sollazzo, Gran ragione che il mio nobile signore sia rimbrottato Per insolenza. (A Bassiano) Vi prego, andiamocene, E lasciamola godere del suo amore color di corvo. Questa valle s’addice allo scopo oltremodo bene.
BASSIANUS	Il Re mio fratello ne avrà notizia.
LAVINIA	Sì, ché questi sdruccioli l’han reso da tempo notato. Buon Re, essere così grandemente ingannato!
TAMORA	Perché ho pazienza di sopportare tutto questo?
(didascalia)	Entrano Chirone e Demetrio
DEMETRIUS	Che c’è, cara sovrana e nostra graziosa madre, Perché vostra altezza appare così pallida e smorta?
TAMORA	Non ho ragione, credete, d’apparir pallida? Questi due m’han lusingata fin qui in questo luogo. Una valle sterile e detestata, come vedete; Gli alberi, benché sia estate, pur desolati e magri, Sopraffatti dal musco e dal vischio funesto. Qui mai splende il sole, qui nulla nasce Se non il gufo notturno o il fatale corvo, E quando mi mostrarono questa fossa aborrita Mi dissero che qui, nel morto tempo della notte, Mille demoni, mille serpi sibilanti, Diecimila rospi gonfi, altrettanti ricci Manderebbero grida tanto paurose e confuse Che qualunque corpo mortale nell’udirle Súbito impazzirebbe o all’istante morrebbe. Non appena ebbero narrato questa favola infernale Che tosto mi dissero che m’avrebbero legata qui Al tronco d’un tasso lugubre E lasciata a questa misera morte. E poi mi chiamarono turpe adultera, Gota lasciva, e con tutti i termini più amari Che mai orecchio udisse a tale effetto. E se non foste giunti per mirabile ventura, Questa vendetta su me avrebbero eseguita. Vendicatelo come amate la vita di vostra madre, O d’ora innanzi non siate chiamati miei figli.
DEMETRIUS	Questa è testimonianza ch’io sono tuo figlio. Pugnala Bassiano
CHIRON	E questo per me, vibrato a fondo per mostrar la mia forza. Pugnala Bassiano, che muore.
(didascalia)	Tamora si volge a Lavinia
LAVINIA	Sì, vieni, Semiramide—anzi, barbara Tamora, Ché nessun nome s’addice alla tua natura fuor del tuo.
TAMORA	(a Chirone) Dammi il pugnale. Saprete, ragazzi miei, Che la mano di vostra madre farà ragione del torto di vostra madre.
DEMETRIUS	Fermatevi, signora, a lei spetta ben altro. Prima si trebbia il grano, poi si brucia la paglia. Questa smorfiosa si faceva forte della sua castità, Del suo voto nuziale, della sua lealtà, E con quella lepida speranza sfida la vostra potenza. E dovrà portarsi questo nella tomba?
CHIRON	E se lo facesse, vorrei essere un eunuco. Trascinate via di qui suo marito in qualche buco segreto, E fate del suo tronco morto guanciale alla nostra libidine.
TAMORA	Ma quando avrete il miele che desiderate, Non lasciate sopravvivere questa vespa, a pungerci entrambe.
CHIRON	Ve lo garantisco, signora, di ciò ci faremo certi. Venite, madonna, ora per forza godremo Di quella vostra onestà sì scrupolosamente serbata.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, tu porti un volto di donna—
TAMORA	Non voglio udirla parlare. Via con lei!
LAVINIA	Dolci signori, pregatela che m’ascolti una sola parola.
DEMETRIUS	(a Tamora) Udite, bella signora, sia vostra gloria Vedere le sue lacrime, ma sia il vostro cuore ad esse Come selce inflessibile alle gocce di pioggia.
LAVINIA	Quando mai i piccoli della tigre ammaestrarono la madre? Oh, non insegnarle l’ira! Fu lei a insegnartela. Il latte che da lei succhiasti si mutò in marmo, Già alla sua poppa avesti la tua tirannia. Pur non ogni madre genera figli uguali. (A Chirone) Pregala tu di mostrare pietà di donna.
CHIRON	Che, vorresti farmi provare ch’io sono un bastardo?
LAVINIA	È vero, il corvo non cova un’allodola. Pure ho udito—oh, potessi trovarlo adesso!— Che il leone, mosso a pietà, sopportò Che gli fossero recise del tutto le regali unghie. Alcuni dicono che i corvi nutrono i bimbi abbandonati Mentre i loro nati patiscono la fame nei nidi. Oh, sii per me, benché il tuo duro cuore dica di no, Non tanto benigna, ma alquanto pietosa.
TAMORA	Non so che voglia dire. Via con lei!
LAVINIA	Oh, lascia ch’io t’insegni per amore di mio padre, Che ti diede la vita quando bene avrebbe potuto ucciderti. Non essere ostinata, apri le tue orecchie sorde.
TAMORA	Anche se tu in persona non m’avessi mai offesa, Proprio per amor suo io sono spietata. Ricordate, ragazzi, ch’io versai lacrime invano Per salvare vostro fratello dal sacrificio, Ma il feroce Andronico non volle piegarsi. Perciò via con lei, e usatela come vorrete— Peggio per lei, più amati da me.
LAVINIA	O Tamora, fatti chiamare una gentile regina, E con le tue stesse mani uccidimi in questo luogo; Ché non è la vita quel che ho implorato sì a lungo; Misera me, fui uccisa quando Bassiano morì.
TAMORA	Che implori dunque, donna insensata? Lasciami andare.
LAVINIA	È morte immediata quel ch’io imploro, e un’altra cosa Che il pudore femminile vieta alla mia lingua di dire. Oh, salvami dalla loro libidine peggiore dell’uccidere, E gettami in qualche fossa ripugnante Dove occhio d’uomo mai possa mirare il mio corpo. Fa’ questo, e sarai una caritatevole assassina.
TAMORA	Così deruberei i miei dolci figli del loro compenso. No, che sazino su di te la loro libidine.
DEMETRIUS	(a Lavinia) Via, ché troppo a lungo ci hai trattenuti qui.
LAVINIA	Nessuna grazia, nessuna femminilità—ah, bestiale creatura, Macchia e nemica del nostro comune nome, Rovina cada—
CHIRON	E allora ti tapperò la bocca. (A Demetrio) Porta tu suo marito. Questo è il buco dove Aronne ci disse di nasconderlo. Demetrio e Chirone gettano il corpo di Bassiano nella
(didascalia)	fossa e ne coprono la bocca con rami, poi
CHIRON	escono trascinando Lavinia
TAMORA	Addio, figli miei. Badate a metterla al sicuro. Mai il mio cuore conosca vera letizia Finché tutti gli Andronici non siano soppressi. Ora me n’andrò di qui a cercare il mio leggiadro Moro, E i miei figli biliosi deflorino questa sgualdrina. Esce
(didascalia)	Entra Aronne con Quinto
TAMORA	e Marzio, due dei figli di Tito
AARON	Venite, signori miei, il piede migliore avanti. Súbito vi condurrò alla ripugnante fossa Dove scorsi la pantera profondamente addormentata.
QUINTUS	La mia vista è assai offuscata, checché ciò presagisca.
MARTIUS	E la mia, ve l’assicuro. Se non fosse per la vergogna, Bene potrei lasciare il nostro diporto per dormire un poco. Cade nella fossa
QUINTUS	Come, sei caduto? Che insidioso buco è questo, La cui bocca è coperta di rovi cresciuti selvaggi Sulle cui foglie son gocce di sangue fresco versato Fresche come rugiada mattutina distillata sui fiori? Un luogo assai fatale mi sembra. Parla, fratello. Ti sei fatto male con la caduta?
MARTIUS	O fratello, ferito dal più lugubre oggetto Che mai occhio con la vista fece lamentare un cuore.
AARON	(a parte) Ora andrò a prendere il Re perché li trovi qui, Sì che ne possa trarre verosimile congettura Che questi furono quelli che soppressero suo fratello.
(didascalia)	Esce
MARTIUS	Perché non mi conforti e non m’aiuti a uscire Da questo buco profanato e macchiato di sangue?
QUINTUS	Sono colto da una strana paura. Un sudore agghiacciante mi corre per le giunture tremanti; Il mio cuore sospetta più di quanto il mio occhio veda.
MARTIUS	A provare che hai cuore veramente indovino, Aronne e tu guardate giù in questa tana, E vedete uno spettacolo tremendo di sangue e di morte.
QUINTUS	Aronne è partito, e il mio cuore compassionevole Non permette ai miei occhi di mirare pur una volta La cosa per cui trema al solo sospettarla. Oh, dimmi chi è, ché mai fino ad ora Fui fanciullo da temere non so che cosa.
MARTIUS	Il signor Bassiano giace imbrattato di sangue Tutto ammucchiato, come un agnello sgozzato, In questa detestata, oscura fossa bevitrice di sangue.
QUINTUS	Se è oscura, come sai che è lui?
MARTIUS	Sul suo dito insanguinato egli porta Un anello prezioso che rischiara tutto questo buco, Il quale, come un cero in qualche sepolcro, Splende sulle guance terrose del morto E mostra le scabre viscere di questa fossa. Così pallida splendeva la luna su Piramo Quando di notte giacque bagnato di sangue verginale. O fratello, aiutami con la tua mano che vien meno— Se la paura ti ha fatto venir meno, come ha fatto a me— Fuori da questo crudele ricettacolo divorante, Odioso come la nebbiosa bocca del Cocito.
QUINTUS	Porgimi la tua mano, ch’io possa trarti fuori, O, mancandomi la forza di farti tanto bene, Ch’io sia tratto nel grembo inghiottitore Di questa fossa profonda, tomba del povero Bassiano. Non ho forza di trarti fino all’orlo,
MARTIUS	Né io ho forza di salire senza il tuo aiuto.
QUINTUS	La tua mano ancora una volta, non la lascerò più Finché tu non sia quassù o io laggiù. Tu non puoi venire a me; io vengo a te. Cade nella fossa.
(didascalia)	Entra Saturnino l’Imperatore con il seguito,
QUINTUS	e Aronne il Moro
SATURNINUS	Venite con me! Voglio vedere che buco è questo, E chi è colui che or ora vi è saltato dentro. Parla dentro la fossa Di’, chi sei tu che poc’anzi discendesti In questa cavità spalancata della terra?
MARTIUS	Gli sventurati figli del vecchio Andronico, Condotti qui in un’ora funestissima A trovar morto tuo fratello Bassiano.
SATURNINUS	Mio fratello morto! So che tu non fai che scherzare. Lui e la sua dama sono entrambi al padiglione Sul lato settentrionale di questa amena riserva. Non è un’ora che ce li ho lasciati.
MARTIUS	Non sappiamo dove li lasciaste tutti vivi, Ma, ahimè, qui l’abbiamo trovato morto!
(didascalia)	Entrano Tamora, Tito Andronico e Lucio
TAMORA	Dov’è il mio signore, il Re?
SATURNINUS	Qui, Tamora, benché stretto da un dolore mortale.
TAMORA	Dov’è tuo fratello Bassiano?
SATURNINUS	Ora fino in fondo tu scandagli la mia ferita. Il povero Bassiano giace qui assassinato.
TAMORA	Troppo tardi dunque reco questo fatale scritto, La trama di questa tragedia immatura, E assai mi meraviglio che il volto d’un uomo possa avvolgere In sorrisi piacevoli tanto micidiale tirannia. Dà a Saturnino una lettera
SATURNINUS	(legge) ‘E se ci sfugge d’incontrarlo a modo, Dolce cacciatore—è Bassiano che intendiamo— Fa’ almeno tanto da scavargli la fossa. Conosci il nostro intento. Cerca la tua ricompensa Fra le ortiche presso il sambuco Che ombreggia la bocca di quella stessa fossa Dove decidemmo di seppellire Bassiano. Fa’ questo, e ci acquisterai tuoi amici duraturi.’ O Tamora, s’udì mai cosa simile! Questa è la fossa, e questo il sambuco. Guardate, signori, se sapete scovare il cacciatore Che qui avrebbe assassinato Bassiano.
AARON	Mio grazioso signore, ecco il sacco d’oro.
SATURNINUS	(a Tito) Due dei tuoi cuccioli, crudeli cagnacci di sanguinaria razza, Hanno qui privato mio fratello della vita. Signori, trascinateli dalla fossa alla prigione. Là restino finché non avremo escogitato Per loro qualche mai udito tormento di tortura.
TAMORA	Come, sono in questa fossa? O cosa mirabile! Con che facilità si scopre l’assassinio! I servi traggono Quinto, Marzio e il corpo di Bassiano fuori dalla fossa
TITUS	(inginocchiandosi) Alto Imperatore, sul mio debole ginocchio Imploro questa grazia con lacrime non versate alla leggera: Che questa atroce colpa dei miei maledetti figli— Maledetti se la colpa in loro sia provata—
SATURNINUS	Se sia provata? Vedete che è manifesta. Chi trovò questa lettera? Tamora, foste voi?
TAMORA	Andronico stesso la raccolse.
TITUS	Fui io, mio signore, pur lasciate ch’io sia la loro cauzione, Ché per la veneranda tomba di mio padre giuro Che saranno pronti al volere di vostra altezza A rispondere del sospetto con le loro vite.
SATURNINUS	Non li avrai in cauzione. Bada di seguirmi. Alcuni portino il corpo assassinato, altri gli assassini. Non li si lasci dire parola—la colpa è palese; Ché per l’anima mia, se vi fosse fine peggiore della morte
(didascalia)	Quella fine su loro sarebbe eseguita. Esce
TAMORA	Andronico, io supplicherò il Re. Non temere per i tuoi figli, se la caveranno abbastanza bene.
(didascalia)	TITO che si rialza
TAMORA	Vieni, Lucio, vieni, non fermarti a parlare con loro.
(didascalia)	Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Empress’ sons, Chiron and Demetrius, with Lavinia, her hands cut off and her tongue cut out, and ravished
DEMETRIUS	So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, Who ‘twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.
CHIRON	Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
DEMETRIUS	See how with signs and tokens she can scrawl.
CHIRON	(to Lavinia) Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
DEMETRIUS	She hath no tongue to call nor hands to wash, And so let’s leave her to her silent walks.
CHIRON	An ‘twere my cause I should go hang myself.
DEMETRIUS	If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Chiron and Demetrius
(didascalia)	Wind horns. Enter Marcus from hunting to Lavinia
MARCUS	Who is this—my niece that flies away so fast? Cousin, a word. Where is your husband? If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me. If I do wake, some planet strike me down That I may slumber an eternal sleep. Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, And might not gain so great a happiness As half thy love. Why dost not speak to me? Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind, Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, Coming and going with thy honey breath. But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. Ah, now thou turn‘st away thy face for shame, And notwithstanding all this loss of blood, As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan’s face Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. Shall I speak for thee? Shall I say ’tis so? O that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast, That I might rail at him to ease my mind! Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. Fair Philomel, why she but lost her tongue And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind. But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee. A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, And he hath cut those pretty fingers off That could have better sewed than Philomel. O, had the monster seen those lily hands Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, He would not then have touched them for his life. Or had he heard the heavenly harmony Which that sweet tongue hath made, He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep, As Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet. Come, let us go and make thy father blind, For such a sight will blind a father’s eye. One hour’s storm will drown the fragrant meads: What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes? Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee. O, could our mourning ease thy misery! Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano i figli dell’Imperatrice, Chirone e Demetrio, con Lavinia, le mani mozzate e la lingua tagliata, e violata
DEMETRIUS	Su, ora va’ a dire, se la tua lingua sa parlare, Chi fu che ti tagliò la lingua e ti violò.
CHIRON	Scrivi il tuo pensiero, palesa così il tuo intento, Se i tuoi moncherini ti lasceranno fare da scriba.
DEMETRIUS	Guarda come con segni e cenni sa scarabocchiare.
CHIRON	(a Lavinia) Va’ a casa, chiedi acqua profumata, làvati le mani.
DEMETRIUS	Non ha lingua per chiedere né mani per lavarsi, E dunque lasciamola ai suoi silenziosi passeggi.
CHIRON	Se fosse il caso mio, andrei a impiccarmi.
DEMETRIUS	Se avessi mani per aiutarti ad annodare la corda.
(didascalia)	Escono Chirone e Demetrio
(didascalia)	Squillano i corni. Entra Marco di ritorno dalla caccia, verso Lavinia
MARCUS	Chi è costei—mia nipote che fugge via così veloce? Nipote, una parola. Dov’è vostro marito? Se sogno, vorrei che tutte le mie ricchezze mi destassero. Se son desto, qualche pianeta mi fulmini Ch’io possa dormire un eterno sonno. Parla, gentile nipote, quali severe scortesi mani Hanno troncato e reciso e spogliato il tuo corpo Dei suoi due rami, quei dolci ornamenti Nella cui ombra cingente i re cercarono di dormire, E non poterono ottenere felicità sì grande Quanto la metà del tuo amore. Perché non mi parli? Ahimè, un cremisi fiume di caldo sangue, Simile a una fonte gorgogliante agitata dal vento, Sale e scende fra le tue labbra rosate, Andando e venendo col tuo alito di miele. Ma certo qualche Tereo t’ha deflorata E, perché tu non lo denunciassi, t’ha tagliato la lingua. Ah, ora volgi via il volto per la vergogna, E nonostante tutta questa perdita di sangue, Come da un condotto con tre bocche zampillanti, Pure le tue guance appaiono rosse come il volto di Titano Che arrossisce d’essere incontrato da una nube. Devo parlare io per te? Devo dire che è così? Oh, conoscessi il tuo cuore, e conoscessi la belva, Ch’io potessi inveire contro di lui per alleggerirmi l’animo! Il dolore celato, come un forno turato, Brucia in cenere il cuore là dov’è. La bella Filomela, ebbene, ella perse solo la lingua E in un tedioso ricamo cucì il suo pensiero. Ma, amabile nipote, quel mezzo t’è stato reciso. Un Tereo più scaltro, nipote, hai incontrato, Ed egli ha mozzato quelle belle dita Che avrebbero cucito meglio di Filomela. Oh, avesse il mostro veduto quelle mani di giglio Tremare come foglie di pioppo su un liuto E far sì che le corde di seta gioissero di baciarle, Non le avrebbe allora toccate per nulla al mondo. O avesse udito la celeste armonia Che quella dolce lingua ha creato, Avrebbe lasciato cadere il coltello e si sarebbe addormentato, Come Cerbero ai piedi del poeta tracio. Vieni, andiamo a render cieco tuo padre, Ché tale vista accecherà l’occhio d’un padre. La tempesta d’un’ora annegherà i prati fragranti: Che faranno mesi interi di lacrime agli occhi di tuo padre? Non ritrarti, ché noi piangeremo con te. Oh, potesse il nostro pianto alleviare la tua sventura! Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Judges, Tribunes, and Senators with Titus’ two sons, Martius and Quintus, bound, passing over the stage to the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading
TITUS	Hear me, grave fathers; noble Tribunes, stay. For pity of mine 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 bitter tears which now you see Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks, Be pitiful to my condemned sons, Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought. For two-and-twenty sons I never wept, Because they died in honour’s lofty bed. Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him For these two, Tribunes, in the dust I write My heart’s deep languor and my soul’s sad tears. Let my tears stanch the earth’s dry appetite; My sons’ sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Titus
TITUS	O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain That shall distil from these two ancient ruins Than youthful April shall with all his showers. In summer’s drought I’ll drop upon thee still. In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow And keep eternal springtime on thy face, So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn
TITUS	Oreverend Tribunes, O 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	My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
TITUS	Why, ‘tis no matter, man. If they did hear, They would not mark me; if they did mark, They would not pity me; yet plead I must. Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones, Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes For that they will not intercept my tale. When I do weep they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me, And were they but attired in grave weeds Rome could afford no tribunes like to these. A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than stones. A stone is silent and offendeth not, And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn?
LUCIUS	To rescue my two brothers from their death, For which attempt the Judges have pronounced My everlasting doom of banishment.
(didascalia)	TITUS rising
LUCIUS	O happy man, they have befriended thee! Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? Tigers 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?
(didascalia)	Enter Marcus with Lavinia
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 see it then.
MARCUS	This was thy daughter.
TITUS	Why, Marcus, so she is.
LUCIUS	(falling on his knees) Ay me, this object kills me.
TITUS	Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.
(didascalia)	Lucius rises
TITUS	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; And they have nursed this woe in feeding life; In bootless prayer have they been held up, And they have served me to effectless use. Now all the service I require of them Is that the one will help to cut the other. ’Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands, For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
LUCIUS	Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyred thee.
MARCUS	O, that delightful engine of her thoughts, That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence, Is torn from forth that pretty 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 deed?
MARCUS	O, thus I found her, straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer That hath received some unrecuring wound.
TITUS	It was my dear, and he that wounded her Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead; For now I stand as one upon a rock Environed with a wilderness of sea, Who marks the waxing 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 woes. But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. Had I but seen thy picture in this plight It would have madded me. What shall I do Now I behold thy lively body so? Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears, Nor 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. Look, Marcus, ah, son Lucius, look on her! When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
MARCUS	Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband; Perchance because she knows them innocent.
TITUS	If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, Because the law hath ta’en revenge on them. No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips; Or make some sign how I may do 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 miry 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 made a brine pit with our bitter tears? Or shall we cut away our hands like thine? Or shall we bite our tongues, 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, To make us wondered at in time to come.
LUCIUS	Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
MARCUS	Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
TITUS	Ah, Marcus, Marcus, brother, well I wot Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
LUCIUS	Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
TITUS	Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs. Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say That to her brother which I said to thee. His napkin with his true tears all bewet Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. O, what a sympathy of woe is this— As far from help as limbo is from bliss.
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron the Moor, alone
AARON	Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word: that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King. He for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
TITUS	O gracious Emperor! O gentle Aaron, 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. Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
LUCIUS	Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down 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 brothers’ lives.
MARCUS	Which of your hands hath not defended Rome And reared aloft the bloody battleaxe, Writing destruction on the enemy’s castle? O, none of both but are of high desert. My hand hath been but idle; let it serve To ransom my two nephews from their death, Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
AARON	Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come.
MARCUS	My hand shall go.
LUCIUS	By heaven it shall not go.
TITUS	Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
LUCIUS	Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
MARCUS	And for our father’s sake and mother’s care, Now let me show a brother’s love to thee.
TITUS	Agree between you. I will spare my hand.
LUCIUS	Then I’ll go fetch an axe.
MARCUS	But I will use the axe.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Lucius and Marcus
TITUS	Come hither, Aaron. I’ll deceive them both. Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
AARON	(aside) If that be called deceit, I will be honest And never whilst I live deceive men so. But I’ll deceive you in another sort, And that you’ll say ere half an hour pass. He cuts off Titus’ hand.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius and Marcus again
TITUS	Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched. Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand. Tell him it was a hand that warded him 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.
AARON	I go, Andronicus; and for thy hand Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. (Aside) Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace: Aaron will have his soul black like his face. Exit
TITUS	O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven And bow this feeble ruin to the earth. He kneels If any power pities wretched tears, To that I call. (To Lavinia, who kneels) What, wouldst thou kneel with me? Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers, Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
MARCUS	O brother, speak with possibility, And do not break into these deep extremes.
TITUS	Is not my sorrows deep, having no bottom? Then be my passions bottomless with them.
MARCUS	But yet let reason govern thy lament.
TITUS	If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes. When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o‘erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoll’n face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth. Then must my sea be moved with her sighs, Then must my earth with her continual tears Become a deluge overflowed and drowned, Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them. Then give me leave, for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand
MESSENGER	Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor. Here are the heads of thy two noble sons, And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back— Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked, That woe is me to think upon thy woes More than remembrance of my father’s death.
(didascalia)	He sets down the heads and hand. Exit
MARCUS	Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell. These miseries are more than may be borne. To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal, But sorrow flouted at is double death.
LUCIUS	Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound And yet detested life not shrink thereat— That ever death should let life bear his name Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! Lavinia kisses Titus
MARCUS	Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless As frozen water to a starved snake.
TITUS	When will this fearful slumber have an end?
MARCUS	Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus. Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads, Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here, Thy other banished son with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodless, and thy brother, I, Even like a stony image, cold and numb. Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs. Rend 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 storm. Why art thou still?
TITUS	Ha, ha, ha!
MARCUS	Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
TITUS	Why, I have not another tear to shed. Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes And make them blind with tributary tears. Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?— For these two heads do seem to speak to me And threat me I shall never come to bliss Till all these mischiefs be returned again Even in their throats that hath committed them. Come, let me see what task I have to do.
(didascalia)	He and Lavinia rise
TITUS	You heavy people, circle me about, That I may turn me to each one of you And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. Marcus, Lucius, and Lavinia circle Titus. He pledges them The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head, And in this hand the other will I bear. And Lavinia, thou shalt be employed. Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thine arms. As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight. Thou art an exile and thou must not stay. Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there, And if ye love me, as I think you do, Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do. They kiss. Exeunt all but Lucius
LUCIUS	Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father, The woefull‘st man that ever lived in Rome. Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again; He loves his pledges dearer than his life. Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister: O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs. If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs And make proud Saturnine and his empress Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen. Now will I to the Goths and raise a power, To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine. Exit

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano i Giudici, i Tribuni e i Senatori con i due figli di Tito, Marzio e Quinto, legati, attraversando la scena verso il luogo dell’esecuzione, e Tito che va innanzi, supplicando
TITUS	Uditemi, gravi padri; nobili Tribuni, fermatevi. Per pietà della mia età, la cui giovinezza fu spesa In guerre perigliose mentre voi dormivate sicuri; Per tutto il mio sangue versato nella gran contesa di Roma; Per tutte le gelide notti in cui ho vegliato, E per queste amare lacrime che ora vedete Colmare le vecchie rughe delle mie guance, Siate pietosi coi miei figli condannati, Le cui anime non sono corrotte come si crede. Per ventidue figli non piansi mai, Perché morirono nell’alto letto dell’onore. Andronico si getta a terra, e i Giudici gli passano accanto Per questi due, Tribuni, nella polvere io scrivo Il profondo languore del mio cuore e le tristi lacrime della mia anima. Che le mie lacrime estinguano l’arido appetito della terra; Il dolce sangue dei miei figli la farà vergognare e arrossire.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Tito
TITUS	O terra, ti sarò più amico con la pioggia Che stillerà da queste due antiche rovine Di quanto lo sarà il giovane aprile con tutti i suoi acquazzoni. Nell’arsura dell’estate gocciolerò su di te ancora. D’inverno con calde lacrime scioglierò la neve E terrò eterna primavera sul tuo volto, Purché tu rifiuti di bere il sangue dei miei cari figli.
(didascalia)	Entra Lucio con l’arma sguainata
TITUS	O venerandi Tribuni, o gentili, attempati uomini, Slegate i miei figli, revocate la sentenza di morte, E ch’io possa dire, io che mai piansi prima, Che le mie lacrime sono ora oratori vittoriosi!
LUCIUS	O nobile padre, invano vi lamentate. I Tribuni non vi odono. Nessuno è presente, E voi narrate i vostri dolori a una pietra.
TITUS	Ah Lucio, lascia ch’io supplichi per i tuoi fratelli. Gravi Tribuni, ancora una volta vi supplico—
LUCIUS	Mio grazioso signore, nessun tribuno vi ode parlare.
TITUS	Ebbene, non importa, uomo. Se pure udissero, Non mi darebbero ascolto; se pure ascoltassero, Non avrebbero pietà di me; pure devo supplicare. Perciò racconto i miei dolori alle pietre, Le quali, benché non possano rispondere alla mia angoscia, Pure in certo modo son migliori dei Tribuni Perché non interromperanno il mio racconto. Quando io piango, esse umilmente ai miei piedi Ricevono le mie lacrime e sembrano piangere con me, E fossero solo vestite di gravi paludamenti Roma non potrebbe offrire tribuni pari a queste. Una pietra è molle come cera, i tribuni più duri delle pietre. Una pietra è silente e non offende, E i tribuni con le loro lingue condannano gli uomini a morte. Ma perché te ne stai con l’arma sguainata?
LUCIUS	Per salvare i miei due fratelli dalla loro morte, Per il qual tentativo i Giudici hanno pronunciato La mia perpetua condanna al bando.
(didascalia)	TITO che si rialza
LUCIUS	O uomo felice, ti sono stati amici! Come, sciocco Lucio, non t’avvedi Che Roma non è che un deserto di tigri? Le tigri devono predare, e Roma non offre preda Se non me e i miei. Quanto sei felice dunque D’esser bandito da questi divoratori! Ma chi viene qui con nostro fratello Marco?
(didascalia)	Entra Marco con Lavinia
MARCUS	Tito, prepara i tuoi vecchi occhi a piangere, O se no, il tuo nobile cuore a spezzarsi. Reco un dolore che consuma alla tua vecchiaia.
TITUS	Mi consumerà? Fammelo vedere allora.
MARCUS	Questa era tua figlia.
TITUS	Ebbene, Marco, e tale è.
LUCIUS	(cadendo in ginocchio) Ahimè, questo spettacolo m’uccide.
TITUS	Ragazzo dal cuore fiacco, àlzati e guardala.
(didascalia)	Lucio si alza
TITUS	Parla, Lavinia, quale mano maledetta T’ha resa senza mani sotto gli occhi di tuo padre? Quale folle ha aggiunto acqua al mare, O ha portato una fascina a Troia ardente? Il mio dolore era al colmo prima che tu venissi, E ora, come il Nilo, disdegna ogni argine. Datemi una spada, mozzerò anche le mie mani, Ché han combattuto per Roma, e tutto invano; E hanno nutrito questa sventura nel nutrire la vita; In vana preghiera sono state levate, E m’hanno servito a inutile uso. Ora tutto il servigio ch’io chiedo loro È che l’una aiuti a mozzare l’altra. È bene, Lavinia, che tu non abbia mani, Ché aver mani per servire Roma è cosa vana.
LUCIUS	Parla, gentile sorella, chi t’ha martirizzata.
MARCUS	Oh, quel delizioso ordigno dei suoi pensieri, Che li svelava con sì piacevole eloquenza, È strappato via da quella bella gabbia incavata Dove, come dolce melodioso uccello, cantava Dolci note variate, incantando ogni orecchio.
LUCIUS	Oh, di’ tu per lei, chi ha compiuto quest’atto?
MARCUS	Oh, così la trovai, errante nel parco, Cercando di nascondersi, come fa il cervo Che ha ricevuto qualche ferita insanabile.
TITUS	Era la mia cerva, e chi la ferì M’ha fatto più male che se m’avesse ucciso; Ché ora io sto come uno su uno scoglio Circondato da un deserto di mare, Che osserva la marea crescere onda su onda, Aspettando sempre il punto in cui qualche flutto invidioso Lo inghiottirà nelle sue salse viscere. Per questa via alla morte sono andati i miei miseri figli. Qui sta l’altro mio figlio, uomo bandito, E qui mio fratello, che piange sulle mie sventure. Ma ciò che dà all’anima mia il colpo più grande È la cara Lavinia, più cara della mia anima. Avessi solo veduto il tuo ritratto in questo stato M’avrebbe fatto impazzire. Che farò Ora che vedo così il tuo corpo vivente? Non hai mani per asciugare le tue lacrime, Né lingua per dirmi chi t’ha martirizzata. Tuo marito è morto, e per la sua morte I tuoi fratelli son condannati e ormai morti. Guarda, Marco, ah, figlio Lucio, guardala! Quando nominai i suoi fratelli, allora fresche lacrime Sostarono sulle sue guance, come fa la melata Su un giglio colto e quasi appassito.
MARCUS	Forse ella piange perché uccisero suo marito; Forse perché li sa innocenti.
TITUS	Se davvero uccisero tuo marito, allora rallegrati, Perché la legge ha preso vendetta su loro. No, no, non avrebbero compiuto un atto sì turpe; Testimone il dolore che la loro sorella manifesta. Gentile Lavinia, lascia ch’io baci le tue labbra; O fa’ qualche segno di come io possa darti sollievo. Il tuo buon zio, e tuo fratello Lucio, E tu, e io, ci sederemo intorno a qualche fonte, Guardando tutti in giù per mirare le nostre guance Come sono macchiate, quali prati non ancora asciutti Del fango limaccioso lasciatovi da un’inondazione? E fisseremo la fonte tanto a lungo Finché il fresco sapore sia tolto a quella limpidezza, E ne sia fatta una salina con le nostre amare lacrime? O ci mozzeremo le mani come le tue? O ci morderemo le lingue, e in muti spettacoli Passeremo il resto dei nostri odiosi giorni? Che faremo? Noi che abbiamo ancora le lingue Tramiamo qualche invenzione di più grande miseria, Per farci oggetto di stupore nel tempo a venire.
LUCIUS	Dolce padre, cessate le vostre lacrime, ché al vostro dolore Vedete come la mia misera sorella singhiozza e piange.
MARCUS	Pazienza, cara nipote. Buon Tito, asciùgati gli occhi.
TITUS	Ah, Marco, Marco, fratello, bene so io Che il tuo fazzoletto non può bere una mia lacrima, Ché tu, pover’uomo, l’hai annegato con le tue.
LUCIUS	Ah, mia Lavinia, io t’asciugherò le guance.
TITUS	Guarda, Marco, guarda. Io intendo i suoi segni. Avesse lingua per parlare, ora direbbe A suo fratello ciò ch’io ho detto a te. Il suo fazzoletto tutto intriso delle sue vere lacrime Non può render servigio alle guance dolenti di lei. Oh, che consonanza di sventura è questa— Lontana dal soccorso quanto il limbo dalla beatitudine.
(didascalia)	Entra Aronne il Moro, solo
AARON	Tito Andronico, il mio signore l’Imperatore Ti manda questo messaggio: che, se ami i tuoi figli, Marco, Lucio o tu stesso, vecchio Tito, O uno qualunque di voi, si mozzi la mano E la mandi al Re. Egli per la medesima Ti manderà qui entrambi i tuoi figli vivi, E quello sarà il riscatto della loro colpa.
TITUS	O grazioso Imperatore! O gentile Aronne, Cantò mai corvo così somigliante all’allodola Che dà dolce annuncio del levarsi del sole? Con tutto il cuore manderò all’Imperatore la mia mano. Buon Aronne, vuoi tu aiutarmi a mozzarla?
LUCIUS	Fermatevi, padre, ché quella vostra nobile mano, Che ha atterrato tanti nemici, Non sarà mandata. La mia mano servirà allo scopo. La mia giovinezza può privarsi del mio sangue meglio di voi, E perciò la mia salverà la vita dei miei fratelli.
MARCUS	Quale delle vostre mani non ha difeso Roma E levato in alto la sanguinosa scure di guerra, Scrivendo distruzione sul castello del nemico? Oh, nessuna delle due che non sia d’alto merito. La mia mano non è stata che oziosa; serva essa A riscattare i miei due nipoti dalla loro morte, E allora l’avrò serbata a degno fine.
AARON	Suvvia, mettetevi d’accordo su quale mano debba andare, Per timore che muoiano prima che giunga il loro perdono.
MARCUS	Andrà la mia mano.
LUCIUS	Per il cielo, non andrà.
TITUS	Signori, non contendete oltre. Erbe appassite come queste Son degne d’esser divelte, e dunque la mia.
LUCIUS	Dolce padre, se devo esser ritenuto vostro figlio, Lasciate ch’io riscatti entrambi i miei fratelli dalla morte.
MARCUS	E per amore di nostro padre e per la cura di nostra madre, Lascia ch’io ti mostri ora l’amore d’un fratello.
TITUS	Accordatevi fra voi. Risparmierò la mia mano.
LUCIUS	Allora andrò a prendere una scure.
MARCUS	Ma sarò io a usare la scure.
(didascalia)	Escono Lucio e Marco
TITUS	Vieni qua, Aronne. Li ingannerò entrambi. Prestami la tua mano, e io ti darò la mia.
AARON	(a parte) Se questo si chiama inganno, io sarò onesto E finché vivo non ingannerò mai così gli uomini. Ma v’ingannerò in altra maniera, E lo direte prima che passi mezz’ora. Mozza la mano di Tito.
(didascalia)	Rientrano Lucio e Marco
TITUS	Ora cessi la vostra contesa. Ciò che doveva farsi è fatto. Buon Aronne, da’ a sua maestà la mia mano. Digli che fu una mano che lo difese Da mille pericoli; digli di seppellirla. Ha meritato di più; quello le sia concesso. Quanto ai miei figli, di’ ch’io li stimo Gioielli comprati a facile prezzo, E pur cari anch’essi, perché ho comprato ciò ch’era mio.
AARON	Vado, Andronico; e per la tua mano Aspèttati fra poco d’avere i tuoi figli con te. (A parte) Le loro teste, intendo. Oh, come questa scelleratezza M’ingrassa al solo pensarla! Facciano il bene gli sciocchi, e i bianchi invochino la grazia: Aronne vuole l’anima sua nera come il suo volto. Esce
TITUS	Oh, qui io levo quest’unica mano al cielo E piego questa debole rovina fino a terra. S’inginocchia Se qualche potenza ha pietà di misere lacrime, A quella io mi rivolgo. (A Lavinia, che s’inginocchia) Come, vorresti inginocchiarti con me? Fa’ pure, caro cuore; ché il cielo udrà le nostre preghiere, O coi nostri sospiri offuscheremo il firmamento E macchieremo il sole di nebbia, come talora le nubi Quando lo stringono nei loro seni struggenti.
MARCUS	O fratello, parla entro il possibile, E non prorompere in questi profondi eccessi.
TITUS	Non sono profondi i miei dolori, non avendo fondo? Siano dunque senza fondo con essi anche le mie passioni.
MARCUS	Pure lascia che la ragione governi il tuo lamento.
TITUS	Se ci fosse ragione per queste miserie, Allora potrei stringere entro limiti le mie sventure. Quando il cielo piange, non trabocca forse la terra? Se infuriano i venti, non impazza forse il mare, Minacciando il firmamento col suo volto gonfio? E tu vorresti una ragione per questo scompiglio? Io sono il mare. Odi come soffiano i suoi sospiri. Ella è il firmamento piangente, io la terra. Il mio mare dev’essere dunque agitato dai suoi sospiri, E la mia terra, per le sue continue lacrime, Deve divenire un diluvio, straripata e sommersa, Perché le mie viscere non possono celare le sue sventure, Ma come un ubriaco devo vomitarle. Datemi dunque licenza, ché chi perde avrà licenza Di sfogare lo stomaco con le sue lingue amare.
(didascalia)	Entra un Messaggero con due teste e una mano
MESSAGGERO	Degno Andronico, mal sei ripagato Per quella buona mano che mandasti all’Imperatore. Ecco le teste dei tuoi due nobili figli, Ed ecco la tua mano rimandatati per scherno— Il tuo dolore è il loro sollazzo, la tua risolutezza derisa, Sì che m’accora pensare alle tue sventure Più che il ricordo della morte di mio padre.
(didascalia)	Depone le teste e la mano. Esce
MARCUS	Ora si raffreddi in Sicilia l’ardente Etna, E sia il mio cuore un inferno che arde in eterno. Queste miserie sono più di quanto si possa sopportare. Piangere con chi piange dà qualche sollievo, Ma il dolore schernito è doppia morte.
LUCIUS	Ah, che questa vista faccia sì profonda ferita E pure la detestata vita non se ne ritragga— Che mai la morte lasci alla vita portare il suo nome Dove la vita non ha altro interesse che respirare! Lavinia bacia Tito
MARCUS	Ahimè, povero cuore, quel bacio è senza conforto Come acqua gelata a una serpe intirizzita.
TITUS	Quando avrà fine questo pauroso sopore?
MARCUS	Ora addio, lusinga; muori, Andronico. Tu non dormi. Guarda le teste dei tuoi due figli, La tua mano guerriera, qui la tua figlia straziata, L’altro tuo figlio bandito, che a questa cara vista È fatto pallido ed esangue, e tuo fratello, io, Proprio come un’immagine di pietra, freddo e intorpidito. Ah, ora non frenerò più i tuoi dolori. Stràppati i capelli d’argento, e l’altra tua mano Rodendo coi denti, e sia questa lugubre vista La chiusura dei nostri infelicissimi occhi. Ora è tempo di tempestare. Perché stai muto?
TITUS	Ah, ah, ah!
MARCUS	Perché ridi? Non s’addice a quest’ora.
TITUS	Ebbene, non ho un’altra lacrima da versare. Inoltre, questo dolore è un nemico, E vorrebbe usurpare i miei occhi acquosi E renderli ciechi di lacrime tributarie. Per qual via troverò allora la caverna della Vendetta?— Ché queste due teste sembrano parlarmi E minacciarmi ch’io non giungerò mai alla beatitudine Finché tutti questi misfatti non siano resi di nuovo Proprio nelle gole di coloro che li hanno commessi. Venite, ch’io veda che compito ho da compiere.
(didascalia)	Egli e Lavinia si alzano
TITUS	Voi, gente afflitta, fatemi cerchio intorno, Ch’io possa volgermi a ciascuno di voi E giurare all’anima mia di vendicare i vostri torti. Marco, Lucio e Lavinia fanno cerchio intorno a Tito. Egli presta loro giuramento Il voto è fatto. Vieni, fratello, prendi una testa, E in questa mano io porterò l’altra. E tu, Lavinia, sarai adoperata. Porta tu la mia mano, dolce fanciulla, fra le tue braccia. Quanto a te, ragazzo, va’, tòglimiti dagli occhi. Tu sei un esule e non devi restare. Affrèttati ai Goti, e leva colà un esercito, E se mi amate, come credo che facciate, Baciamoci e separiamoci, ché molto abbiamo da fare. Si baciano. Escono tutti tranne Lucio
LUCIUS	Addio, Andronico, mio nobile padre, L’uomo più sventurato che mai visse in Roma. Addio, superba Roma, finché Lucio non ritorni; Egli ama i suoi pegni più della propria vita. Addio, Lavinia, mia nobile sorella: Oh, fossi tu quale sei stata un tempo! Ma ora né Lucio né Lavinia vivono Se non nell’oblio e in odiosi dolori. Se Lucio vivrà, egli ripagherà i vostri torti E farà sì che il superbo Saturnino e la sua imperatrice Mendichino alle porte come Tarquinio e la sua regina. Ora andrò dai Goti e leverò un esercito, Per vendicarmi di Roma e di Saturnino. Esce

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	A banquet. Enter Titus Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia, and the boy (young Lucius)
TITUS	So, so, now sit, and look you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
(didascalia)	They sit
TITUS	Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot. Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands, And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannize upon my breast, Who, when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down. He beats his breast (To Lavinia) Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs, When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still! Wound it with sighing, girl; kill it with groans, Or get some little knife between thy teeth And just against thy heart make thou a hole, That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall May run into that sink and, soaking in, Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
MARCUS	Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life.
TITUS	How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. What violent hands can she lay on her life? Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o’er How Troy was burnt and he made miserable? O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands, Lest we remember still that we have none. Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk, As if we should forget we had no hands If Marcus did not name the word of hands! Come, let’s fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this. Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says. I can interpret all her martyred signs. She says she drinks no other drink but tears, Brewed with her sorrow, mashed upon her cheeks. Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought. In thy dumb action will I be as perfect As begging hermits in their holy prayers. Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven, Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, But I of these will wrest an alphabet, And by still practice learn to know thy meaning.
YOUNG LUCIUS	Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments. Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
MARCUS	Alas, the tender boy in passion moved Doth weep to see his grandsire’s heaviness.
TITUS	Peace, tender sapling, thou art made of tears, And tears will quickly melt thy life away. Marcus strikes the dish with a knife What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
MARCUS	At that that I have killed, my lord—a fly.
TITUS	Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill’st my heart. Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny. A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus’ brother. Get thee gone. I see thou art not for my company.
MARCUS	Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly.
TITUS	‘But’? How if that fly had a father, brother? How would he hang his slender gilded wings And buzz lamenting dirges in the air! Poor harmless fly, That with his pretty buzzing melody Came here to make us merry—and thou hast killed him!
MARCUS	Pardon me, sir, it was a black ill-favoured fly, Like to the Empress’ Moor. Therefore I killed him.
TITUS	O, O, O! Then pardon me for reprehending thee, For thou hast done a charitable deed. Give me thy knife. I will insult on him, Flattering myself as if it were the Moor Come hither purposely to poison me. He takes a knife and strikes There’s for thyself, and that’s for Tamora. Ah, sirrah! Yet I think we are not brought so low But that between us we can kill a fly That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
MARCUS	Alas, poor man! Grief has so wrought on him He takes false shadows for true substances.
TITUS	Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me. I’ll to thy closet and go read with thee Sad stories chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me. Thy sight is young, And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Un banchetto. Entrano Tito Andronico, Marco, Lavinia, e il fanciullo (il giovane Lucio)
TITUS	Su, su, ora sedete, e badate di non mangiare più Di quanto serbi in noi giusto tanta forza Quanta basti a vendicare queste nostre amare sventure.
(didascalia)	Siedono
TITUS	Marco, sciogli quel nodo intrecciato di dolore. Tua nipote e io, povere creature, siamo privi delle mani, E non possiamo esprimere il nostro decuplo dolore Con le braccia conserte. Questa mia povera destra M’è rimasta per tiranneggiare sul mio petto, Sì che, quando il mio cuore, tutto folle di miseria, Batte in questa cava prigione della mia carne, Allora così io lo percuoto giù. Si batte il petto (A Lavinia) Tu, mappa di sventura, che così parli per segni, Quando il tuo povero cuore batte d’un battito furioso Tu non puoi percuoterlo così per farlo tacere! Ferìscilo coi sospiri, fanciulla; uccidilo coi gemiti, O prendi fra i denti qualche coltellino E proprio contro il tuo cuore fatti un foro, Sì che tutte le lacrime che i tuoi poveri occhi lasciano cadere Possano scorrere in quella conca e, filtrando dentro, Annegare quel folle lamentoso in lacrime salse come il mare.
MARCUS	Vergogna, fratello, vergogna! Non insegnarle così a porre Mani sì violente sulla sua tenera vita.
TITUS	Come! Il dolore t’ha già fatto vaneggiare? Ebbene, Marco, nessuno dev’esser folle fuorché io. Quali mani violente può porre ella sulla sua vita? Ah, perché insisti sul nome di mani, Per invitare Enea a narrare due volte la storia Di come Troia arse e di come egli fu reso misero? Oh, non maneggiare il tema, non parlare di mani, Ché non ricordiamo del continuo che non ne abbiamo. Ohibò, ohibò, come freneticamente squadro il mio discorso, Come se dovessimo dimenticare che non avevamo mani Se Marco non nominasse la parola mani! Su, mettiamoci a tavola; e, gentile fanciulla, mangia questo. Qui non c’è da bere! Odi, Marco, quel che ella dice. Io so interpretare tutti i suoi martoriati segni. Dice che non beve altra bevanda che lacrime, Fermentate col suo dolore, ammostate sulle sue guance. Muta lamentatrice, io imparerò il tuo pensiero. Nel tuo muto gestire sarò tanto esperto Quanto gli eremiti mendicanti nelle loro sante preghiere. Non sospirerai, né leverai al cielo i tuoi moncherini, Né batterai ciglio, né accennerai, né t’inginocchierai, né farai un segno, Senza ch’io da questi tragga un alfabeto, E con assidua pratica impari a conoscere il tuo intento.
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Buon nonno, lasciate questi amari profondi lamenti. Rallegrate mia zia con qualche piacevole racconto.
MARCUS	Ahimè, il tenero fanciullo, commosso dalla pena, Piange nel vedere l’afflizione di suo nonno.
TITUS	Taci, tenero virgulto, tu sei fatto di lacrime, E le lacrime presto scioglieranno via la tua vita. Marco colpisce il piatto con un coltello Che cosa colpisci, Marco, col tuo coltello?
MARCUS	Ciò che ho ucciso, mio signore—una mosca.
TITUS	Vergogna a te, assassino! Tu uccidi il mio cuore. I miei occhi sono nauseati alla vista della tirannia. Un atto di morte compiuto sull’innocente Non si conviene al fratello di Tito. Vattene. Vedo che non fai per la mia compagnia.
MARCUS	Ahimè, mio signore, non ho ucciso che una mosca.
TITUS	‘Che’? E se quella mosca avesse avuto un padre, fratello? Come lascerebbe pendere le sue esili ali dorate E ronzerebbe nell’aria lamentose nenie! Povera mosca innocua, Che con la sua graziosa melodia ronzante Venne qui a rallegrarci—e tu l’hai uccisa!
MARCUS	Perdonatemi, signore, era una mosca nera e mal fatta, Simile al Moro dell’Imperatrice. Perciò l’ho uccisa.
TITUS	Oh, oh, oh! Allora perdonami d’averti ripreso, Ché hai compiuto un’opera di carità. Dammi il tuo coltello. Voglio infierire su di lui, Lusingandomi come se fosse il Moro Venuto qui apposta per avvelenarmi. Prende un coltello e colpisce Questo è per te, e questo per Tamora. Ah, furfante! Pure penso che non siamo ridotti tanto in basso Da non poter fra noi uccidere una mosca Che venga in sembianza d’un Moro nero come carbone.
MARCUS	Ahimè, pover’uomo! Il dolore ha così operato su di lui Che prende false ombre per vere sostanze.
TITUS	Su, sparecchiate. Lavinia, vieni con me. Andrò nel tuo studiolo e leggerò con te Tristi storie occorse nei tempi antichi. Vieni, fanciullo, e vieni con me. La tua vista è giovane, E tu leggerai quando la mia comincerà ad abbagliarsi.
(didascalia)	Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius’ son and Lavinia running after him, and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm. Enter Titus and Marcus
YOUNG LUCIUS	Help, grandsire, help! My aunt Lavinia Follows me everywhere, I know not why. Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes. Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
(didascalia)	He drops his books
MARCUS	Stand by me, Lucius. Do not fear thine aunt.
TITUS	She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
YOUNG LUCIUS	Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
MARCUS	What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
(didascalia)	Fear her not, Lucius; somewhat doth she mean. MARCUS
TITUS	See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee. Somewhither would she have thee go with her. Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care Read to her sons than she hath read to thee Sweet poetry and Tully’s Orator. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
YOUNG LUCIUS	My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her; For I have heard my grandsire say full oft Extremity of griefs would make men mad, And I have read that Hecuba of Troy Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear, Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt Loves me as dear as e’er my mother did, And would not but in fury fright my youth, Which made me down to throw my books and fly, Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt; And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
MARCUS	Lucius, I will. Lavinia turns the books over with her stumps
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. (To Lavinia) But thou art deeper read and better skilled. Come and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.— Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
MARCUS	I think she means that there were more than one Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was, Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
TITUS	Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
YOUNG LUCIUS	Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s Metamorphoses. My mother gave it me.
MARCUS	For love of her that’s gone, Perhaps, she culled it from among the rest.
TITUS	Soft, so busily she turns the leaves. Help her. 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 thy annoy.
MARCUS	See, brother, see. Note how she quotes the leaves.
TITUS	Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, Ravished and wronged as Philomela was, Forced in the ruthless, vast, 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 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?
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, That left the camp to sin in Lucrece’ bed?
MARCUS	Sit down, sweet niece. Brother, sit down by me. They sit Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury Inspire me, that I may this treason find. My lord, look here. Look here, Lavinia. This sandy plot is plain. Guide if thou canst This after me. He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet and mouth I here have writ my name Without the help of any hand at all. Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift! Write thou, good niece, and here display at last What God will have discovered for revenge. Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain, That we may know the traitors and the truth. She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
(didascalia)	TITUS ‘Stuprum—Chiron—Demetrius.’
MARCUS	What, what!—The lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous bloody deed?
TITUS	Magni dominator poli, 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. My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel; And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector’s hope, All kneel And swear with me—as, with the woeful fere And father of that chaste dishonoured dame Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece’ rape— That we will prosecute by good advice Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths, And see their blood, or die with this reproach. They rise
TITUS	’Tis sure enough an you knew how, But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware. The dam will wake, and if she wind ye once She’s with the lion deeply still in league, And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, And when he sleeps will she do what she list. You are a young huntsman, Marcus. Let alone, And come, I will go get a leaf of brass And with a gad of steel will write these words, And lay it by. The angry northern wind Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad, And where’s our lesson then? Boy, what say you?
YOUNG LUCIUS	I say, my lord, that if I were a man Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
MARCUS	Ay, that’s my boy! Thy father hath full oft For his ungrateful country done the like.
YOUNG LUCIUS	And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
TITUS	Come go with me into mine armoury. Lucius, I’ll fit thee; and withal, my boy, Shall carry from me to the Empress’ sons Presents that I intend to send them both. Come, come, thou’lt do my message, wilt thou not?
YOUNG LUCIUS	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 at the court. Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we’ll be waited on.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Marcus
MARCUS	O heavens, can you hear a good man groan And not relent, or not compassion him? Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy, 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! Exit

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entra il figlio di Lucio e Lavinia che gli corre dietro, e il fanciullo fugge da lei coi suoi libri sotto il braccio. Entrano Tito e Marco
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Aiuto, nonno, aiuto! Mia zia Lavinia Mi segue dappertutto, non so perché. Buon zio Marco, guardate come viene veloce. Ahimè, dolce zia, non so che cosa intendiate.
(didascalia)	Lascia cadere i suoi libri
MARCUS	Stammi vicino, Lucio. Non temere tua zia.
TITUS	Ella ti ama, fanciullo, troppo bene per farti del male.
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Sì, quando mio padre era in Roma m’amava.
MARCUS	Che intende mia nipote Lavinia con questi segni?
(didascalia)	Non temerla, Lucio; qualcosa ella intende. MARCUS
TITUS	Guarda, Lucio, guarda quanto conto fa di te. In qualche luogo vorrebbe che tu andassi con lei. Ah, fanciullo, mai Cornelia con maggior cura Lesse ai suoi figli di quanto ella abbia letto a te Dolce poesia e l’Oratore di Tullio. Non sai indovinare perché così t’incalza?
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Mio signore, io non lo so, né so indovinarlo, Se non che qualche accesso o frenesia la possieda; Ché ho udito ben spesso dire da mio nonno Che l’estremo dei dolori fa impazzire gli uomini, E ho letto che Ecuba di Troia Impazzì di dolore. Ciò mi fece temere, Benché, mio signore, io sappia che la mia nobile zia M’ama teneramente quanto mai fece mia madre, E non spaventerebbe la mia fanciullezza se non nel furore, Il che mi fece gettar giù i libri e fuggire, Senza motivo, forse. Ma perdonatemi, dolce zia; E, signora, se mio zio Marco viene, Io accompagnerò ben volentieri vostra signoria.
MARCUS	Lucio, verrò. Lavinia rovescia i libri coi suoi moncherini
TITUS	Che c’è, Lavinia? Marco, che significa questo? C’è qualche libro ch’ella desidera vedere. Quale è, fanciulla, fra questi?—Aprili, ragazzo. (A Lavinia) Ma tu sei più addentro nelle letture e più esperta. Vieni e scegli in tutta la mia biblioteca, E inganna così il tuo dolore finché i cieli Non rivelino il dannato ordinatore di quest’atto.— Perché leva così le braccia una dopo l’altra?
MARCUS	Credo ch’ella intenda che vi fu più d’un Complice nel fatto. Sì, più d’uno vi fu, Oppure le leva al cielo invocando vendetta.
TITUS	Lucio, che libro è quello che così agita?
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Nonno, sono le Metamorfosi d’Ovidio. Me le diede mia madre.
MARCUS	Per amore di colei che non è più, Forse, l’ha scelto fra gli altri.
TITUS	Piano, con che affanno ella volta le pagine. Aiutatela. Che vuol trovare? Lavinia, devo leggere io? Questa è la tragica storia di Filomela, E tratta del tradimento di Tereo e del suo stupro, E lo stupro, temo, fu radice del tuo tormento.
MARCUS	Guarda, fratello, guarda. Osserva come scruta le pagine.
TITUS	Lavinia, fosti tu così sorpresa, dolce fanciulla, Violata e oltraggiata come fu Filomela, Forzata nei boschi spietati, vasti e tenebrosi? Guarda, guarda. Sì, un tal luogo c’è dove noi cacciammo— Oh, non avessimo mai, mai cacciato là!— Simile a quello che il poeta qui descrive, Fatto dalla natura per omicidi e per stupri.
MARCUS	Oh, perché la natura costruirebbe una tana sì turpe, Se non perché gli dèi si dilettano di tragedie?
TITUS	Fa’ segni, dolce fanciulla, ché qui non ci sono che amici, Di qual signore romano fu che osò l’atto. O non si allontanò furtivo Saturnino, come già Tarquinio, Che lasciò il campo per peccare nel letto di Lucrezia?
MARCUS	Siediti, dolce nipote. Fratello, siedi accanto a me. Siedono Apollo, Pallade, Giove o Mercurio M’ispirino, ch’io possa scoprire questo tradimento. Mio signore, guardate qui. Guarda qui, Lavinia. Questo tratto di sabbia è liscio. Guida, se puoi, Questo dopo di me. Scrive il suo nome col bastone, e lo guida coi piedi e con la bocca Io qui ho scritto il mio nome Senza l’aiuto d’alcuna mano. Maledetto quel cuore che ci costrinse a tale espediente! Scrivi tu, buona nipote, e qui palesa infine Ciò che Dio vorrà sia scoperto per la vendetta. Il cielo guidi la tua penna a stampare chiari i tuoi dolori, Sì che possiamo conoscere i traditori e la verità. Ella prende il bastone in bocca, e lo guida coi suoi moncherini, e scrive Oh, leggete, mio signore, quel ch’ella ha scritto?
(didascalia)	TITUS ‘Stuprum—Chiron—Demetrius.’
MARCUS	Come, come!—I libidinosi figli di Tamora Esecutori di questo atroce sanguinoso atto?
TITUS	Magni dominator poli, Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides?
MARCUS	Oh, calmati, gentile signore, benché io sappia Che v’è abbastanza scritto su questa terra Da suscitare un ammutinamento nei più miti pensieri, E armare a grida le menti dei bambini. Mio signore, inginocchiatevi con me; Lavinia, inginocchiati; E inginocchiati, dolce fanciullo, speranza dell’Ettore romano, Tutti s’inginocchiano E giurate con me—come, col dolente sposo E padre di quella casta dama disonorata, Il signor Giunio Bruto giurò per lo stupro di Lucrezia— Che noi perseguiremo con buon consiglio Mortale vendetta su questi traditori Goti, E vedremo il loro sangue, o morremo con questa onta. Si alzano
TITUS	È abbastanza certo, se sapeste come, Ma se cacciate questi orsacchiotti, allora badate. La madre si desterà, e se una volta vi fiuta Ella è tuttora in stretta lega col leone, E lo culla mentre si trastulla supina, E quando egli dorme farà ciò che le piace. Tu sei un giovane cacciatore, Marco. Lascia stare, E vieni, andrò a prendere una lastra di bronzo E con una punta d’acciaio scriverò queste parole, E la riporrò. L’irato vento di tramontana Disperderà queste sabbie come le foglie della Sibilla, E dov’è allora la nostra lezione? Fanciullo, che dici?
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Dico, mio signore, che se fossi un uomo Neppure la camera da letto della loro madre sarebbe sicura Per questi vili schiavi al giogo di Roma.
MARCUS	Sì, questo è il mio ragazzo! Tuo padre ha ben spesso Fatto altrettanto per la sua ingrata patria.
GIOVANE LUCIUS	E, zio, così farò io, se vivrò.
TITUS	Su, vieni con me nella mia armeria. Lucio, t’equipaggerò; e insieme, ragazzo mio, Porterai da parte mia ai figli dell’Imperatrice Doni ch’io intendo mandare a entrambi. Su, su, farai la mia ambasciata, non è vero?
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Sì, col mio pugnale nei loro petti, nonno.
TITUS	No, ragazzo, non così. T’insegnerò un’altra via. Lavinia, vieni. Marco, bada alla mia casa. Lucio e io andremo a far bella figura a corte. Sì, per certo, lo faremo, signore, e saremo serviti.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Marco
MARCUS	O cieli, potete udire un uomo dabbene gemere E non intenerirvi, o non compatirlo? Marco, assistilo nel suo delirio, Egli che ha più cicatrici di dolore nel cuore Che segni di nemici sul suo scudo malconcio, Ma pure sì giusto che non vuole vendicarsi. Vendichino i cieli il vecchio Andronico! Esce

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door, and at the other door young Lucius and another with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them
CHIRON	Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius. He hath some message to deliver us.
AARON	Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
YOUNG LUCIUS	My lords, with all the humbleness I may I greet your honours from Andronicus (Aside) And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
DEMETRIUS	Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What’s the news?
YOUNG LUCIUS	(aside) That you are both deciphered, that’s the news, For villains marked with rape. (Aloud) May it please you, My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me The goodliest weapons of his armoury To gratify your honourable youth, The hope of Rome, for so he bid me say; His attendant gives the weapons And so I do, and with his gifts present Your lordships that, whenever you have need, You may be armed and appointed well; And so I leave you both (aside) like bloody villains.
(didascalia)	Exit with attendant
DEMETRIUS	What’s here—a scroll, and written round about? Let’s see. ‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.’
CHIRON	O, ’tis a verse in Horace, I know it well. I read it in the grammar long ago.
AARON	Ay, just, a verse in Horace; right, you have it. (Aside) Now what a thing it is to be an ass! Here’s no sound jest. The old man hath found their guilt, And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines That wound beyond their feeling to the quick. But were our witty Empress well afoot She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit. But let her rest in her unrest a while. (To Chiron and Demetrius) And now, young lords, was’t not a happy star Led us to Rome, strangers and, more than so, Captives, to be advanced to this height? It did me good before the palace gate To brave the Tribune in his brother’s hearing.
DEMETRIUS	But me more good to see so great a lord Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
AARON	Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius? Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
DEMETRIUS	I would we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay, by turn to serve 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.
DEMETRIUS	Come, let us go and pray to all the gods For our beloved mother in her pains.
AARON	Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
(didascalia)	Trumpets sound
DEMETRIUS	Why do the Emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?
CHIRON	Belike for joy the Emperor hath a son.
DEMETRIUS	Soft, who comes here?
(didascalia)	Enter Nurse with a blackamoor child
NURSE	Good morrow, lords. O tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
AARON	Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all, Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
NURSE	O gentle Aaron, we are all undone. Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
AARON	Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep! What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy 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!
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. The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal, And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.
AARON	Zounds, ye whore, is black so base a hue? Sweet blowze, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
DEMETRIUS	Villain, what hast thou done?
AARON	That which thou canst not undo.
CHIRON	Thou hast undone our mother. AARON Villain, I have done thy mother.
DEMETRIUS	And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her. Woe to her chance, and damned her loathed choice, Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend.
CHIRON	It shall not live.
AARON	It shall not die.
NURSE	Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.
AARON	What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I Do execution on my flesh and blood.
DEMETRIUS	I’ll broach the tadpole on my rapier’s point. Nurse, give it me. My sword shall soon dispatch it.
AARON	Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. He takes the child and draws his sword Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother? Now, by the burning tapers of the sky That shone so brightly when this boy was got, He dies upon my scimitar’s sharp point That touches this, my first-born son and heir. I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus With all his threat’ning band of Typhon’s brood, Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war Shall seize this prey out of his father’s hands. What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys, Ye whitelimed walls, ye alehouse painted signs, Coal-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 swan’s black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood. Tell the Empress from me I am of age To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
DEMETRIUS	Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
AARON	My mistress is my mistress, this myself, The figure and the picture of my youth. This before all the world do I prefer; This maugre all the world will I keep safe, Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome. no
DEMETRIUS	By this our mother is for ever shamed.
CHIRON	Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
NURSE	The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
CHIRON	I blush to think upon this ignomy.
AARON	Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears. Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing The close enacts and counsels of thy heart. Here’s a young lad framed of another leer. Look how the black slave smiles upon the father, As who should say ‘Old lad, I am thine own.’ He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed Of that self blood that first gave life to you, And from that womb where you imprisoned were He is enfranchised and come to light. Nay, he is your brother by the surer side, Although my seal be stamped in his face.
NURSE	Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?
DEMETRIUS	Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, And we will all subscribe to thy advice. Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
AARON	Then sit we down, and let us all consult. My son and I will have the wind of you. Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety. They sit
DEMETRIUS	(to the Nurse) How many women saw this child of his?
AARON	Why, so, brave lords, when we do 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 Aaron storms. (To the Nurse) But say again, how many saw the child?
NURSE	Cornelia the midwife, and myself, And no one else but the delivered Empress.
AARON	The Empress, the midwife, and yourself. Two may keep counsel when the third’s away. Go to the Empress, tell her this I said. He kills her ‘Wheak, wheak’—so cries a pig prepared to the spit.
DEMETRIUS	What mean’st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?
AARON	OLord, sir, ’tis a deed of policy. Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours— A long-tongued, babbling gossip? No, lords, no. And now be it known to you my full intent. Not far, one Muliteus my countryman His wife but yesternight was brought to bed. His child is like to her, fair as you are. Go pack with him, and give the mother gold, And tell them both the circumstance of all, And how by this their child shall be advanced And be received for the Emperor’s heir, And substituted in the place of mine, To calm this tempest whirling in the court; And let the Emperor dandle him for his own. Hark ye, lords, you see I have given her physic, And you must needs bestow her funeral. The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms. This done, see that you take no longer days, But send the midwife presently to me. The midwife and the nurse well made away, Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
CHIRON	Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air With secrets.
DEMETRIUS	For this care of Tamora, Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Chiron and Demetrius with the Nurse’s body
AARON	Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies, There to dispose this treasure in mine arms And secretly to greet the Empress’ friends. Come on, you thick-lipped slave, I’ll bear you hence, For it is you that puts us to our shifts. I’ll make you feed on berries and on roots, And fat on curds and whey, and suck the goat, And cabin in a cave, and bring you up To be a warrior and command a camp.
(didascalia)	Exit with the child

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Aronne, Chirone e Demetrio da una porta, e dall’altra porta il giovane Lucio e un altro con un fascio d’armi, e versi scritti su di esse
CHIRON	Demetrio, ecco il figlio di Lucio. Ha qualche messaggio da recarci.
AARON	Sì, qualche folle messaggio dal suo folle nonno.
GIOVANE LUCIUS	Signori miei, con tutta l’umiltà ch’io posso Saluto le vostre signorie da parte d’Andronico (A parte) E prego gli dèi romani di confondervi entrambi.
DEMETRIUS	Molte grazie, leggiadro Lucio. Quali novelle?
GIOVANE LUCIUS	(a parte) Che siete entrambi scoperti, ecco la novella, Quali scellerati marchiati di stupro. (Ad alta voce) Vi piaccia, signori, Mio nonno, bene consigliato, ha mandato per mio mezzo Le più belle armi della sua armeria A gratificare la vostra onorevole giovinezza, La speranza di Roma, ché così mi disse di dire; Il suo servo consegna le armi E così faccio, e coi suoi doni presento Le vostre signorie, affinché, ogni volta che n’abbiate bisogno, Possiate essere armati e bene equipaggiati; E così vi lascio entrambi (a parte) come sanguinari scellerati.
(didascalia)	Esce col servo
DEMETRIUS	Che c’è qui—un rotolo, e scritto tutt’intorno? Vediamo. ‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.’
CHIRON	Oh, è un verso d’Orazio, lo conosco bene. Lo lessi nella grammatica molto tempo fa.
AARON	Sì, appunto, un verso d’Orazio; giusto, ci sei. (A parte) Che gran cosa è essere un asino! Non è uno scherzo da nulla. Il vecchio ha scoperto la loro colpa, E manda loro armi avvolte in versi Che feriscono nel vivo oltre il loro sentire. Ma fosse la nostra arguta Imperatrice bene in piedi Ella applaudirebbe l’arguzia d’Andronico. Ma lasciamola riposare un poco nella sua inquietudine. (A Chirone e Demetrio) E ora, giovani signori, non fu una stella propizia Che ci condusse a Roma, stranieri e, più ancora, Prigionieri, per essere innalzati a quest’altezza? Mi fece bene, davanti alla porta del palazzo, Sfidare il Tribuno all’udito di suo fratello.
DEMETRIUS	E a me più bene vedere un sì gran signore Vilmente insinuarsi e mandarci doni.
AARON	Non aveva ragione, signor Demetrio? Non trattaste sua figlia assai amichevolmente?
DEMETRIUS	Vorrei che avessimo mille dame romane Così alle strette, a servire a turno la nostra libidine.
CHIRON	Un desiderio caritatevole, e pieno d’amore.
AARON	Qui manca solo vostra madre per dire amen.
CHIRON	E lo direbbe, per altre ventimila.
DEMETRIUS	Su, andiamo a pregare tutti gli dèi Per la nostra amata madre nelle sue doglie.
AARON	Pregate i diavoli; gli dèi ci hanno abbandonati.
(didascalia)	Suonano le trombe
DEMETRIUS	Perché le trombe dell’Imperatore squillano così?
CHIRON	Forse per la gioia che l’Imperatore ha un figlio.
DEMETRIUS	Piano, chi viene qui?
(didascalia)	Entra la Nutrice con un bambino moro
NURSE	Buongiorno, signori. Oh ditemi, avete visto Aronne il Moro?
AARON	Bene, più o meno, o punto affatto, Ecco Aronne; e che c’è ora con Aronne?
NURSE	O gentile Aronne, siamo tutti rovinati. Ora aiuta, o guai a te per sempre!
AARON	Ebbene, che miagolìo vai facendo! Che cosa avvolgi e brancichi fra le braccia?
NURSE	Oh, ciò ch’io vorrei nascondere all’occhio del cielo, La vergogna della nostra Imperatrice e il disonore della maestosa Roma. Ella s’è liberata, signori, s’è liberata.
AARON	Di chi?
NURSE	Voglio dire che ha partorito.
AARON	Bene, Dio le dia buon riposo. Che cosa le ha mandato?
NURSE	Un diavolo.
AARON	Ebbene allora, ella è la madre del diavolo. Lieta progenie!
NURSE	Una progenie senza gioia, lugubre, nera e dolorosa. Ecco il pargolo, ripugnante come un rospo Fra i generatori dal volto bianco del nostro clima. L’Imperatrice te lo manda, tua impronta, tuo sigillo, E t’ordina di battezzarlo con la punta del tuo pugnale.
AARON	Corpo di Dio, sgualdrina, è il nero un colore così vile? Dolce faccia rubiconda, tu sei un bel fiore, di certo.
DEMETRIUS	Scellerato, che hai fatto?
AARON	Ciò che tu non puoi disfare.
CHIRON	Tu hai rovinato nostra madre. AARON Scellerato, io ho posseduto tua madre.
DEMETRIUS	E in ciò, cane infernale, tu l’hai rovinata. Guai alla sua sorte, e dannata la sua odiosa scelta, Maledetta la prole d’un demonio sì turpe.
CHIRON	Non vivrà.
AARON	Non morirà.
NURSE	Aronne, deve; la madre così vuole.
AARON	Come, deve, nutrice? Allora nessun altro fuorché io Faccia giustizia della mia carne e del mio sangue.
DEMETRIUS	Infilzerò il girino sulla punta del mio stocco. Nutrice, dammelo. La mia spada presto lo spaccerà.
AARON	Prima questa spada t’arerà le viscere. Prende il bambino e sguaina la spada Fermi, scellerati assassini, volete uccidere vostro fratello? Ora, per le ardenti fiaccole del cielo Che splendettero sì luminose quando questo fanciullo fu generato, Muore sull’aguzza punta della mia scimitarra Chiunque tocchi costui, mio primogenito ed erede. Ve lo dico, giovincelli, né Encelado Con tutta la sua minacciosa schiera della stirpe di Tifone, Né il grande Alcide, né il dio della guerra Strapperà questa preda dalle mani di suo padre. Come, come, voi ragazzi sanguigni, dal cuore leggero, Voi muri imbiancati a calce, voi insegne dipinte di taverna, Il nero di carbone è migliore d’ogni altro colore In quanto disdegna di portarne un altro; Ché tutta l’acqua dell’oceano Non potrà mai far bianche le nere zampe del cigno, Benché egli le lavi ogni ora nell’onda. Dite all’Imperatrice da parte mia che ho l’età Di tenere il mio, se la scusi come può.
DEMETRIUS	Vuoi tradire così la tua nobile signora?
AARON	La mia signora è la mia signora, questo è me stesso, La figura e il ritratto della mia giovinezza. Questo io preferisco a tutto il mondo; Questo a dispetto di tutto il mondo terrò al sicuro, O qualcuno di voi ne pagherà il fumo in Roma. no
DEMETRIUS	Per questo nostra madre è svergognata per sempre.
CHIRON	Roma la disprezzerà per questa turpe scappata.
NURSE	L’Imperatore nella sua ira la condannerà a morte.
CHIRON	Arrossisco al pensiero di questa ignominia.
AARON	Ebbene, ecco il privilegio che porta la vostra bellezza. Ohibò, colore traditore, che tradisce arrossendo I segreti decreti e consigli del tuo cuore. Ecco un giovane fanciullo foggiato d’altra tinta. Guardate come il nero schiavetto sorride al padre, Come a dire ‘Vecchio mio, io sono tuo.’ Egli è vostro fratello, signori, nutrito realmente Di quello stesso sangue che per primo diede vita a voi, E da quel grembo dove voi foste imprigionati Egli è affrancato e venuto alla luce. Anzi, egli è vostro fratello dal lato più sicuro, Benché il mio sigillo sia impresso nel suo volto.
NURSE	Aronne, che dirò all’Imperatrice?
DEMETRIUS	Rifletti, Aronne, su ciò che si deve fare, E noi tutti sottoscriveremo il tuo consiglio. Salva tu il bambino, purché tutti si sia al sicuro.
AARON	Sediamoci dunque, e consultiamoci tutti. Io e mio figlio ci terremo al vento sopra di voi. State là; ora parlate a piacere della vostra salvezza. Siedono
DEMETRIUS	(alla Nutrice) Quante donne hanno visto questo suo bambino?
AARON	Ecco, bravi signori, quando ci uniamo in lega Io sono un agnello; ma se sfidate il Moro, Il cinghiale irritato, la leonessa dei monti, L’oceano non si gonfia tanto quanto Aronne tempesta. (Alla Nutrice) Ma dimmi ancora, quanti videro il bambino?
NURSE	Cornelia la levatrice, e io stessa, E nessun altro fuorché l’Imperatrice sgravata.
AARON	L’Imperatrice, la levatrice, e tu stessa. Due possono serbare un segreto quando la terza è via. Va’ dall’Imperatrice, dille questo ch’io ho detto. La uccide ‘Uìc, uìc’—così grida un porco preparato allo spiedo.
DEMETRIUS	Che intendi, Aronne? Perché hai fatto questo?
AARON	O signore, è un atto di prudenza politica. Deve ella vivere per tradire questa nostra colpa— Una pettegola dalla lingua lunga e ciarliera? No, signori, no. E ora vi sia noto il mio pieno intento. Non lontano, un certo Muliteo, mio compatriota, Sua moglie proprio la notte scorsa ha partorito. Il suo bambino somiglia a lei, bianco come voi. Andate a intendervi con lui, e date oro alla madre, E raccontate a entrambi tutta la circostanza, E come per questo il loro bambino sarà innalzato E accolto come erede dell’Imperatore, E sostituito al posto del mio, Per calmare questa tempesta che turbina nella corte; E lasciate che l’Imperatore lo culli come suo. Udite, signori, vedete che le ho dato la medicina, E voi dovete per forza provvedere ai suoi funerali. I campi son vicini, e voi siete gagliardi garzoni. Fatto questo, badate a non indugiare oltre, Ma mandatemi súbito la levatrice. Tolte di mezzo per bene la levatrice e la nutrice, Le dame poi ciarlino quel che vogliono.
CHIRON	Aronne, vedo che non vuoi affidare all’aria I segreti.
DEMETRIUS	Per questa cura di Tamora, Ella e i suoi ti sono altamente obbligati.
(didascalia)	Escono Chirone e Demetrio col corpo della Nutrice
AARON	Ora dai Goti, veloce come vola la rondine, Per collocare colà questo tesoro che ho fra le braccia E salutare in segreto gli amici dell’Imperatrice. Su, schiavetto dalle labbra grosse, ti porterò via di qui, Ché sei tu che ci costringi a questi ripieghi. Ti farò nutrire di bacche e di radici, E ingrassare di cagliata e siero, e succhiare la capra, E alloggiare in una caverna, e ti alleverò A essere un guerriero e a comandare un campo.
(didascalia)	Esce col bambino

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Titus, old Marcus, his son Publius, young Lucius, and other gentlemen (Sempronius, Caius) with bows; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the ends of them
TITUS	Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way. Sir boy, let me see your archery. Look ye draw home enough, and ‘tis there straight. Terras Astraea reliquit. Be you remembered, Marcus: she’s gone, she’s fled. Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall Go sound the ocean and cast your nets. Happily you may catch her in the sea; Yet there’s as little justice as at land. No, Publius and Sempronius, you must do it. ’Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade And pierce the inmost centre of the earth. Then, when you come to Pluto’s region, I pray you deliver him this petition. Tell him it is for justice and for aid, And that it comes from old Andronicus, Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome. Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable What time I threw the people’s suffrages On him that thus doth tyrannize o’er me. Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all, And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched. This wicked Emperor may have shipped her hence, And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
MARCUS	O, Publius, is not this a heavy case, To see thy noble uncle thus distraught?
PUBLIUS	Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns By day and night t’attend him carefully And feed his humour kindly as we may, Till time beget some careful remedy.
MARCUS	Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy,
(didascalia)	But
MARCUS	Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude, And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
TITUS	Publius, how now? How now, my masters? What, have you met with her?
PUBLIUS	No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall. Marry, for Justice, she is now employed, He thinks, with Jove, in heaven or somewhere else, So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
TITUS	He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. I’ll dive into the burning lake below And pull her out of Acheron by the heels. Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we, No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops’ size, But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back, Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear; And sith there’s no justice in earth nor hell, We will solicit heaven and move the gods To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs. Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus. He gives them the arrows ‘Ad Iovem’, that’s for you. Here, ’ad Apollinem’. ‘Ad Martem’, that’s for myself. 55 Here, boy, ‘to Pallas’. Here ‘to Mercury’. ‘To Saturn’, Caius—not ‘to Saturnine’) You were as good to shoot against the wind. To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid. Of my word, I have written to effect. There’s not a god left unsolicited.
MARCUS	Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court. We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
TITUS	Now, masters, draw. They shoot O, well said, Lucius! Good boy, in Virgo’s lap ! Give it Pallas.
MARCUS	My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon. Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
TITUS	Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done? See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns.
MARCUS	This was the sport, my lord. When Publius shot, The Bull, being galled, gave Aries such a knock That down fell both the Ram’s horns in the court, And who should find them but the Empress’ villain! She laughed, and told the Moor he should not choose But give them to his master for a present.
TITUS	Why, there it goes. God give his lordship joy.
(didascalia)	Enter the Clown with a basket and two pigeons in it
TITUS	News, news from heaven; Marcus, the post is come. Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters? Shall I have justice? What says Jupiter?
CLOWN	Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.
TITUS	But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
CLOWN	Alas, sir, I know not ‘Jupiter’. I never drank with him in all my life.
TITUS	Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
CLOWN	Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
TITUS	Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
CLOWN	From heaven? Alas, sir, I never came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal’s men.
TITUS	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—(giving money) meanwhile, here’s money for thy charges. Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace Deliver up a supplication?
CLOWN	Ay, sir.
TITUS	(writing and giving the Clown a paper) 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. CLOWN I warrant you, sir. Let me alone.
TITUS	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.
CLOWN	God be with you, sir. I will. Exit
TITUS	Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Tito, il vecchio Marco, suo figlio Publio, il giovane Lucio, e altri gentiluomini (Sempronio, Caio) con archi; e Tito porta le frecce con lettere infilate in punta
TITUS	Vieni, Marco, vieni; congiunti, ecco la via. Signor ragazzo, fammi vedere la tua arte dell’arco. Bada di tendere fino in fondo, e va’ dritto al segno. Terras Astraea reliquit. Ricòrdatene, Marco: se n’è andata, è fuggita. Signori, prendete i vostri arnesi. Voi, cugini, Andrete a scandagliare l’oceano e a gettar le reti. Forse la prenderete nel mare; Pure là c’è poca giustizia quanto in terra. No, Publio e Sempronio, tocca a voi farlo. Siete voi che dovete scavare con zappa e con vanga E trafiggere l’intimo centro della terra. Poi, quando giungerete al regno di Plutone, Vi prego, consegnategli questa supplica. Ditegli ch’è per giustizia e per soccorso, E che viene dal vecchio Andronico, Scosso dai dolori nell’ingrata Roma. Ah, Roma! Bene, bene, io ti resi misera Nel tempo in cui gettai i suffragi del popolo Su colui che così mi tiranneggia. Andate, partite, e vi prego siate tutti attenti, E non lasciate nave da guerra non perquisita. Questo malvagio Imperatore può averla imbarcata via di qui, E allora, congiunti, potremo suonare il piffero per la giustizia.
MARCUS	Oh, Publio, non è questo un caso grave, Veder così stravolto il tuo nobile zio?
PUBLIUS	Perciò, signori miei, ci preme grandemente Di giorno e di notte assisterlo con cura E assecondare benignamente il suo umore come possiamo, Finché il tempo non generi qualche sollecito rimedio.
MARCUS	Congiunti, i suoi dolori sono senza rimedio,
(didascalia)	Ma
MARCUS	Unitevi ai Goti, e con guerra vendicatrice Prendete vendetta su Roma per quest’ingratitudine, E castigo sul traditore Saturnino.
TITUS	Publio, che c’è? Che c’è, padroni miei? Come, l’avete incontrata?
PUBLIUS	No, mio buon signore, ma Plutone vi manda a dire Che se volete la Vendetta dall’inferno, l’avrete. Ma quanto alla Giustizia, ella è ora occupata, Egli crede, con Giove, in cielo o altrove, Sicché per forza dovete attendere un tempo.
TITUS	Mi fa torto a pascermi d’indugi. M’immergerò nel lago ardente laggiù E la tirerò fuori dall’Acheronte per i talloni. Marco, non siamo che arbusti, non cedri, Non uomini d’ossa grosse foggiati alla misura dei Ciclopi, Ma metallo, Marco, acciaio fino alla schiena, Pure oppressi da torti più di quanto le nostre schiene possano portare; E poiché non v’è giustizia in terra né in inferno, Solleciteremo il cielo e muoveremo gli dèi A mandar giù la Giustizia a vendicare i nostri torti. Su, a questa faccenda. Sei un buon arciere, Marco. Distribuisce loro le frecce ‘Ad Iovem’, questa è per te. Ecco, ‘ad Apollinem’. ‘Ad Martem’, questa è per me. 55 Ecco, ragazzo, ‘a Pallade’. Ecco ‘a Mercurio’. ‘A Saturno’, Caio—non ‘a Saturnino’) Tanto varrebbe tirare contro il vento. Dàgli, ragazzo! Marco, scocca quando lo dico. Sulla mia parola, ho scritto con efficacia. Non resta un dio non sollecitato.
MARCUS	Congiunti, tirate tutti i vostri dardi nella corte. Affliggeremo l’Imperatore nel suo orgoglio.
TITUS	Ora, padroni, tendete. Tirano Oh, ben detto, Lucio! Bravo ragazzo, in grembo alla Vergine! Dàlla a Pallade.
MARCUS	Mio signore, io miro un miglio oltre la luna. La vostra lettera è già presso Giove.
TITUS	Ah, ah! Publio, Publio, che hai fatto? Guarda, guarda, hai staccato una delle corna del Toro.
MARCUS	Questo fu lo spasso, mio signore. Quando Publio tirò, Il Toro, punto sul vivo, diede all’Ariete tal colpo Che caddero entrambe le corna del Montone nella corte, E chi le trovò se non lo scellerato dell’Imperatrice! Ella rise, e disse al Moro che non poteva far altro Che darle in dono al suo padrone.
TITUS	Ebbene, così va. Dio dia gioia a sua signoria.
(didascalia)	Entra il Buffone con un cesto e due piccioni dentro
TITUS	Novelle, novelle dal cielo; Marco, è giunto il corriere. Ehi tu, che notizie? Hai qualche lettera? Avrò giustizia? Che dice Giove?
BUFFONE	Oh, il giubbettiere, quello che fa le forche? Dice che le ha tirate giù di nuovo, ché l’uomo non dev’essere impiccato prima della settimana ventura.
TITUS	Ma che dice Giove, ti chiedo?
BUFFONE	Ahimè, signore, non conosco ‘Giove’. Non ho mai bevuto con lui in tutta la mia vita.
TITUS	Come, briccone, non sei tu il portalettere?
BUFFONE	Sì, dei miei piccioni, signore; nient’altro.
TITUS	Come, non vieni tu dal cielo?
BUFFONE	Dal cielo? Ahimè, signore, non ci sono mai stato. Dio mi guardi dall’essere così ardito da spingermi in cielo nei miei giovani anni. Ecco, vado coi miei piccioni al tribunale plebe per accomodare una questione di rissa fra mio zio e uno degli uomini dell’Imperiale.
TITUS	Ehi tu, vieni qua. Non far più storie, Ma dà i tuoi piccioni all’Imperatore. Per mio mezzo avrai giustizia dalle sue mani. Tieni, tieni—(dandogli denaro) intanto, ecco denaro per le tue spese. Datemi penna e inchiostro. Ehi tu, sapresti con garbo Presentare una supplica?
BUFFONE	Sì, signore.
TITUS	(scrivendo e dando al Buffone un foglio) Ecco dunque una supplica per te, e quando giungerai da lui, al primo accostarti devi inginocchiarti, poi baciargli il piede, poi consegnare i tuoi piccioni, e poi aspettarti la tua ricompensa. Sarò lì presso, signore; bada di farlo bravamente. BUFFONE Ve lo garantisco, signore. Lasciate fare a me.
TITUS	Ehi tu, hai un coltello? Su, fammelo vedere. Ecco, Marco, piegalo dentro l’orazione, Ché tu l’hai composta come un umile supplice. E quando l’avrai data all’Imperatore, Bussa alla mia porta e dimmi che cosa dice.
BUFFONE	Dio sia con voi, signore. Lo farò. Esce
TITUS	Vieni, Marco, andiamo. Publio, seguimi. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus, the Emperor, and Tamora, the Empress, and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, and others. The Emperor brings the arrows in his hand that Titus shot at him
SATURNINUS	Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen An emperor in Rome thus overborne, Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent Of egall justice used in such contempt? My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods, However these disturbers of our peace Buzz in the people’s ears, there naught hath passed But even with law against the wilful sons Of old Andronicus. And what an if His sorrows have so overwhelmed 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 unjustice everywhere? 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 he sleep He’ll so awake as he in fury shall Cut off the proud’st conspirator that lives.
TAMORA	My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus’ age, Th’effects of sorrow for his valiant sons Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his heart; And rather comfort his distressed plight Than prosecute the meanest or the best For these contempts. (Aside) Why, thus it shall become High-witted Tamora to gloze with all. But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick. Thy life blood out if Aaron now be wise, Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
(didascalia)	Enter Clown
TAMORA	How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
CLOWN	Yea, forsooth, an your mistress-ship be Emperial.
TAMORA	Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
CLOWN	’Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good-e’ en. I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here. Saturninus reads the letter
SATURNINUS	(to an attendant) Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
CLOWN	How much money must I have?
TAMORA	Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
(didascalia)	CLOWN Hanged, by’ Lady? Then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. Exit with attendant
SATURNINUS	Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! Shall I endure this monstrous villainy? 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 butchered wrongfully! Go, drag the villain hither by the hair. Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege. For this proud mock I’ll be thy slaughterman, Sly frantic wretch, that holp’st to make me great In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
(didascalia)	Enter Aemilius, a messenger
SATURNINUS	What news with thee, Aemilius?
AEMILIUS	Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause. The Goths have gathered head, and with a power Of high-resolvèd men bent to the spoil They hither march amain under conduct Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus, Who threats in course of this revenge to do As much as ever Coriolanus did.
SATURNINUS	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 begins our sorrows to approach. ’Tis he the common people love so much. Myself hath often heard them say, When I have walked like a private man, That Lucius’ banishment was wrongfully, And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor.
TAMORA	Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
SATURNINUS	Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius, And will revolt from me to succour him.
TAMORA	King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name. Is the sun dimmed, 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 mayst 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 Whenas the one is wounded with the bait, The other rotted with delicious feed.
SATURNINUS	But he will not entreat his son for us.
TAMORA	If Tamora entreat him, then he will, For I can smooth and fill his aged ears With golden promises that, were his heart Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf, Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. (To Aemilius) Go thou before to be our ambassador. Say that the Emperor requests a parley Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting Even at his father’s house, the old Andronicus.
SATURNINUS	Aemilius, do this message honourably, And if he stand on hostage for his safety, Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
AEMILIUS	Your bidding shall I do effectually. Exit
TAMORA	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.
SATURNINUS	Then go incessantly, and plead to him.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Saturnino, l’Imperatore, e Tamora, l’Imperatrice, e Chirone e Demetrio, i suoi due figli, e altri. L’Imperatore reca in mano le frecce che Tito gli ha scoccato contro
SATURNINUS	Ebbene, signori, che torti son questi! S’è mai visto Un imperatore in Roma così sopraffatto, Turbato, sfidato a tal segno, e per l’esercizio D’equa giustizia trattato con tanto disprezzo? Signori miei, voi sapete, come sanno i possenti dèi, Per quanto questi turbatori della nostra pace Ronzino agli orecchi del popolo, nulla è avvenuto Se non secondo legge contro i figli ostinati Del vecchio Andronico. E che importa se I suoi dolori gli hanno così sopraffatto il senno? Dovremo essere così tormentati dai suoi rancori, Dai suoi accessi, dalla sua frenesia e dalla sua amarezza? E ora scrive al cielo per il suo risarcimento. Guardate, ecco ‘a Giove’ e questa ‘a Mercurio’, Questa ‘ad Apollo’, questa ‘al dio della guerra’— Dolci cartigli da volare per le strade di Roma! Che è questo se non un libello contro il Senato E un blasonare dovunque la nostra ingiustizia? Un bell’umore, non è vero, signori miei?— Come a dire che in Roma non v’è giustizia. Ma, s’io vivo, le sue finte estasi Non saranno riparo a questi oltraggi, Ma egli e i suoi sapranno che la giustizia vive Nella salute di Saturnino, il quale, se dorme, Si desterà tale che nel furore Reciderà il più superbo cospiratore che viva.
TAMORA	Mio grazioso signore, mio amabile Saturnino, Signore della mia vita, comandante dei miei pensieri, Calmati, e sopporta le colpe dell’età di Tito, Gli effetti del dolore per i suoi valorosi figli La cui perdita l’ha trafitto a fondo e sfregiato il suo cuore; E piuttosto conforta il suo stato afflitto Che perseguire il più umile o il migliore Per questi disprezzi. (A parte) Ecco, così si converrà All’astuta Tamora blandire tutti. Ma, Tito, io t’ho toccato nel vivo. Fuori il sangue della tua vita: se Aronne ora è savio, Allora tutto è salvo, l’àncora è in porto.
(didascalia)	Entra il Buffone
TAMORA	Ebbene, buon uomo, vorresti parlare con noi?
BUFFONE	Sì, davvero, se la vostra signoria-nave è Imperiale.
TAMORA	Imperatrice io sono, ma laggiù siede l’Imperatore.
BUFFONE	È lui. Dio e santo Stefano vi diano la buona sera. Vi ho portato una lettera e un paio di piccioni qui. Saturnino legge la lettera
SATURNINUS	(a un servo) Va’, portalo via, e impiccalo súbito.
BUFFONE	Quanto denaro devo avere?
TAMORA	Su, briccone, devi essere impiccato.
(didascalia)	BUFFONE Impiccato, per la Madonna? Allora ho allevato un collo a un bel fine. Esce col servo
SATURNINUS	Torti dispettosi e intollerabili! Sopporterò io questa mostruosa scelleratezza? So donde procede questo stesso stratagemma. Si può tollerare?—Come se i suoi figli traditori, Che morirono per legge per l’assassinio di nostro fratello, Fossero stati per opera mia macellati ingiustamente! Andate, trascinate qui per i capelli lo scellerato. Né età né onore gli daranno privilegio. Per questa superba beffa sarò io il tuo macellaio, Astuto forsennato miserabile, che m’aiutasti a farmi grande Nella speranza di governare tu stesso Roma e me.
(didascalia)	Entra Emilio, un messaggero
SATURNINUS	Che novelle rechi, Emilio?
AEMILIUS	All’armi, signori! Roma non ebbe mai maggior motivo. I Goti hanno raccolto forze, e con un esercito D’uomini altamente risoluti, intenti al saccheggio, Marciano in fretta verso qui sotto la guida Di Lucio, figlio del vecchio Andronico, Il quale minaccia nel corso di questa vendetta di fare Altrettanto di quanto mai fece Coriolano.
SATURNINUS	È il bellicoso Lucio generale dei Goti? Queste novelle mi gelano, e chino il capo, Come fiori col gelo, o erba abbattuta dalle tempeste. Sì, ora cominciano ad avvicinarsi i nostri dolori. È lui che il popolo minuto ama tanto. Io stesso li ho spesso uditi dire, Quando andavo in giro come un privato, Che il bando di Lucio fu ingiusto, E hanno desiderato che Lucio fosse il loro imperatore.
TAMORA	Perché dovreste temere? Non è forte la vostra città?
SATURNINUS	Sì, ma i cittadini favoriscono Lucio, E si ribelleranno a me per soccorrerlo.
TAMORA	Re, siano i tuoi pensieri imperiosi come il tuo nome. È forse offuscato il sole perché vi volano dentro i moscerini? L’aquila lascia cantare i piccoli uccelli, E non si cura di ciò che con questo intendano, Sapendo che con l’ombra delle sue ali Può a piacere troncare la loro melodia. Così puoi tu con gli sventati uomini di Roma. Rallegra dunque il tuo spirito; ché sappi, Imperatore, Io incanterò il vecchio Andronico Con parole più dolci e pur più pericolose Che l’esca per i pesci o gli steli di miele per le pecore Poiché l’uno è ferito dall’esca, L’altra guastata dal delizioso pascolo.
SATURNINUS	Ma egli non pregherà suo figlio per noi.
TAMORA	Se Tamora lo prega, allora lo farà, Ché io so lisciare e colmare i suoi vecchi orecchi Di promesse d’oro, sì che, fosse il suo cuore Quasi inespugnabile, sordi i suoi vecchi orecchi, Pure orecchio e cuore obbedirebbero alla mia lingua. (A Emilio) Va’ tu innanzi a farci da ambasciatore. Di’ che l’Imperatore chiede un abboccamento Col bellicoso Lucio, e fissa l’incontro Proprio nella casa di suo padre, il vecchio Andronico.
SATURNINUS	Emilio, compi onorevolmente quest’ambasciata, E se egli insiste per ostaggi a sua sicurezza, Digli di chiedere il pegno che più gli piaccia.
AEMILIUS	Eseguirò efficacemente il vostro comando. Esce
TAMORA	Ora andrò da quel vecchio Andronico, E lo piegherò con tutta l’arte ch’io possiedo A strappare il superbo Lucio ai bellicosi Goti. E ora, dolce Imperatore, torna lieto, E seppellisci ogni tuo timore nei miei artifici.
SATURNINUS	Va’ dunque senza indugio, e supplicalo.
(didascalia)	Escono da parti diverse

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Flourish.
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius with an army of Goths, with drummers and soldiers
LUCIUS	Approved warriors and my faithful friends, I have received letters from great Rome Which signifies 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. A 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 flowered fields, And be avenged on cursed Tamora.
GOTHS	And as he saith, so say we all with him.
LUCIUS	I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
(didascalia)	Enter a Goth, leading of Aaron with his child in his
LUCIUS	arms
GOTH	Renowned Lucius, from our troops I strayed 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 controlled 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 mightst 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 Empress’ babe, Will hold thee dearly for thy mother’s sake.’ With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him, Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither To use as you think needful of the man.
LUCIUS	O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil That robbed Andronicus of his good hand. This is the pearl that pleased your Empress’ eye, And here’s the base fruit of her burning lust. (To Aaron) Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey This growing image of thy fiendlike face? Why dost not speak? What, deaf? What, not a word? A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree, And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
AARON	Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.
LUCIUS	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. Get me a ladder.
(didascalia)	A Goth brings a ladder which Aaron climbs
AARON	Lucius, save the child, And bear it from me to the Empress. If thou do this, I’ll show thee wondrous 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!’
LUCIUS	Say on, and if it please me which thou speak’st Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished.
AARON	And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius, ’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak; For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres, Acts of black night, abominable deeds, Complots of mischief, treason, villainies Ruthful to hear yet piteously performed, And this shall all be buried in my death Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
LUCIUS	Tell on thy mind. I say thy child shall live.
AARON	Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
LUCIUS	Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god. That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
AARON	What if I do not?—as indeed I do not— Yet for I know thou art religious And hast a thing within thee called conscience, With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies Which I have seen thee careful to observe, Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know An idiot holds his bauble for a god, And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, To that I’ll urge him, therefore thou shalt vow By that same god, what god soe’er it be, That thou adorest and hast in reverence, To save my boy, to nurse and bring him up, Or else I will discover naught to thee.
LUCIUS	Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
AARON	First know thou I begot him on the Empress.
LUCIIJS	O most insatiate and luxurious woman!
AARON	Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. ’Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus. They cut thy sister’s tongue, and ravished her, And cut her hands, and trimmed her as thou sawest.
LUCIUS	O detestable villain! Call’st thou that trimming?
AARON	Why, she was washed and cut and trimmed, and ’twas Trim sport for them which had the doing of it.
LUCIUS	O barbarous beastly villains, like thyself!
AARON	Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them. That codding spirit had they from their mother, As sure a card as ever won the set. That bloody mind I think they learned of me, As true a dog as ever fought at head. Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth. I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay. I wrote the letter that thy father found, And hid the gold within that letter mentioned, Confederate with the Queen and her two sons; And what not done that thou hast cause to rue Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it? I played the cheater for thy father’s hand, And when I had it drew myself apart, And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter. I pried me through the crevice of a wall When for his hand he had his two sons’ heads, Beheld his tears, and laughed so heartily That both mine eyes were rainy like to his; And when I told the Empress of this sport She swoonèd almost at my pleasing tale, And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses. A GOTH What, canst thou say all this and never blush?
AARON	Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
LUCIUS	Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
AARON	Ay, that I had not done a thousand more. Even now I curse the day—and yet I think Few come within the compass of my curse— Wherein I did not some notorious ill, As kill a man, or else devise his death; Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it; Accuse some innocent and forswear myself; Set deadly enmity between two friends; Make poor men’s cattle break their necks; Set fire on barns and haystacks in the night, And bid the owners quench them with their tears. Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves And set them upright at their dear friends’ door, Even when their sorrows almost was forgot, And on their skins, as on the bark of trees, Have with my knife carved in Roman letters ‘Let not your sorrow die though I am dead.’ But I have done a thousand dreadful things As willingly as one would kill a fly, And nothing grieves me heartily indeed But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
LUCIUS	Bring down the devil, for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently. Goths bring Aaron down the ladder
AARON	If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell But to torment you with my bitter tongue.
LUCIUS	Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. Goths gag Aaron.
(didascalia)	Enter Aemilius
LUCIUS	A GOTH My lord, there is a messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence.
LUCIUS	Let him come near. Welcome, Aemilius. What’s the news from Rome?
AEMILIUS	Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths, The Roman Emperor greets you all by me, And for he understands you are in arms, He craves a parley at your father’s house, Willing you to demand your hostages, And they shall be immediately delivered. A GOTH What says our general?
LUCIUS	Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus, And we will come. Away!
(didascalia)	Flourish. Exeunt marching

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di tromba.
(didascalia)	Entra Lucio con un esercito di Goti, con tamburini e soldati
LUCIUS	Provati guerrieri e miei fedeli amici, Ho ricevuto lettere dalla grande Roma Che significano quanto odio portino al loro imperatore E quanto desiderosi siano di vederci. Perciò, grandi signori, siate quali i vostri titoli attestano, Imperiosi, e impazienti dei vostri torti, E in ciò in cui Roma v’abbia fatto alcun danno Ch’ella ne dia triplice soddisfazione. UN GOTO Prode virgulto nato dal grande Andronico, Il cui nome fu un tempo il nostro terrore, ora il nostro conforto, Le cui alte imprese e onorevoli gesta L’ingrata Roma ricompensa con turpe disprezzo, Confida in noi. Ti seguiremo dove ci guidi, Come pungenti api nel più caldo giorno d’estate Condotte dal loro padrone ai campi fioriti, E ci vendicheremo della maledetta Tamora.
GOTI	E come dice lui, così diciamo tutti con lui.
LUCIUS	Umilmente lo ringrazio, e ringrazio voi tutti. Ma chi viene qui, condotto da un gagliardo Goto?
(didascalia)	Entra un Goto, conducendo Aronne col suo bambino fra le
LUCIUS	braccia
GOTO	Rinomato Lucio, m’allontanai dalle nostre truppe Per contemplare un monastero in rovina, E mentre fissavo intento il mio occhio Sull’edificio devastato, all’improvviso Udii un bambino piangere sotto un muro. Mi diressi al rumore, e presto udii Il pargolo piangente rimbrottato con questo discorso: ‘Taci, schiavo fulvo, metà me e metà tua madre! Se il tuo colore non tradisse di chi sei marmocchio, Se la natura t’avesse prestato solo l’aspetto di tua madre, Furfante, avresti potuto essere imperatore. Ma dove il toro e la vacca sono entrambi bianchi come latte Non generano mai un vitello nero come carbone. Taci, furfante, taci!’—così appunto sgrida il pargolo— ‘Ché devo portarti a un fidato Goto Il quale, quando saprà che sei il pargolo dell’Imperatrice, Ti terrà caro per amore di tua madre.’ A questo, sguainata l’arma, gli piombai addosso, Lo sorpresi d’improvviso, e l’ho condotto qua Perché ne facciate ciò che giudicate necessario.
LUCIUS	O degno Goto, questi è il diavolo incarnato Che derubò Andronico della sua buona mano. Questa è la perla che piacque all’occhio della vostra Imperatrice, Ed ecco il vile frutto della sua ardente libidine. (Ad Aronne) Di’, schiavo dagli occhi stralunati, dove volevi portare Questa crescente immagine del tuo volto demoniaco? Perché non parli? Come, sordo? Come, non una parola? Un capestro, soldati! Impiccatelo a quest’albero, E al suo fianco il suo frutto bastardo.
AARON	Non toccate il fanciullo; è di sangue regale.
LUCIUS	Troppo simile al padre per esser mai buono. Impiccate prima il bambino, ch’egli lo veda dibattersi— Vista da tormentare con essa l’anima del padre. Portatemi una scala.
(didascalia)	Un Goto porta una scala che Aronne sale
AARON	Lucio, salva il bambino, E portalo da parte mia all’Imperatrice. Se fai questo, ti mostrerò cose meravigliose Che grandemente ti gioverà udire. Se non vuoi, accada quel che accada, Non dirò altro che ‘La vendetta vi marcisca tutti!’
LUCIUS	Parla pure, e se mi piacerà ciò che dirai Il tuo bambino vivrà, e provvederò a nutrirlo.
AARON	E se ti piacerà? Ebbene, tienti per certo, Lucio, Tormenterà la tua anima udire ciò che dirò; Ché devo parlare d’omicidi, di stupri e di massacri, Atti di nera notte, gesta abominevoli, Complotti di misfatti, tradimenti, scelleratezze Pietose a udirsi eppure spietatamente compiute, E tutto questo sarà sepolto con la mia morte Se non mi giuri che il mio bambino vivrà.
LUCIUS	Di’ pure il tuo pensiero. Dico che il tuo bambino vivrà.
AARON	Giura che vivrà, e allora comincerò.
LUCIUS	Per chi dovrei giurare? Tu non credi in alcun dio. Ammesso ciò, come puoi credere a un giuramento?
AARON	E se non ci credo?—come in verità non ci credo— Pure, poiché so che tu sei religioso E hai dentro di te una cosa chiamata coscienza, Con venti trucchi e cerimonie papiste Che t’ho visto osservare scrupolosamente, Perciò insisto sul tuo giuramento; giacché so Che un idiota tiene per dio il suo sonaglio, E mantiene il giuramento che per quel dio fa, A quello lo terrò stretto, perciò tu giurerai Per quello stesso dio, qual dio che sia, Che tu adori e tieni in riverenza, Di salvare il mio fanciullo, di allattarlo e allevarlo, O altrimenti non ti rivelerò nulla.
LUCIUS	Proprio per il mio dio ti giuro che lo farò.
AARON	Sappi prima ch’io lo generai dall’Imperatrice.
LUCIIJS	O donna insaziabile e lussuriosa al sommo!
AARON	Bah, Lucio, questo non fu che un atto di carità Rispetto a ciò che udrai da me fra poco. Furono i suoi due figli ad assassinare Bassiano. Tagliarono la lingua a tua sorella, e la violarono, E le mozzarono le mani, e l’acconciarono come vedesti.
LUCIUS	O detestabile scellerato! Chiami quello acconciare?
AARON	Ebbene, fu lavata e tagliata e acconciata, e fu Acconcio spasso per chi ebbe a farlo.
LUCIUS	O scellerati barbari e bestiali, come te stesso!
AARON	Davvero, io fui il loro precettore a istruirli. Quello spirito puttaniere l’ebbero da loro madre, Carta sicura quanto mai ne vinse partita. Quella mente sanguinaria credo l’apprendessero da me, Cane fedele quanto mai ne affrontò il toro di fronte. Bene, siano le mie opere testimoni del mio valore. Io attirai i tuoi fratelli a quella fossa insidiosa Dove giaceva il cadavere di Bassiano. Io scrissi la lettera che tuo padre trovò, E nascosi l’oro in quella lettera menzionato, In lega con la Regina e i suoi due figli; E che cosa fu fatta, di cui tu abbia motivo di dolerti, In cui io non avessi la mia parte di malvagità? Feci il baro per la mano di tuo padre, E quando l’ebbi mi ritrassi in disparte, E quasi mi si spezzò il cuore per l’eccesso del ridere. Spiai attraverso la fessura d’un muro Quando per la sua mano ebbe le teste dei suoi due figli, Vidi le sue lacrime, e risi di sì buon cuore Che entrambi i miei occhi furono piovosi come i suoi; E quando raccontai all’Imperatrice questo spasso Ella quasi svenne al mio piacevole racconto, E per le mie novelle mi diede venti baci. UN GOTO Come, puoi dir tutto questo senza mai arrossire?
AARON	Sì, come un cane nero, come dice il proverbio.
LUCIUS	Non ti pesano queste atroci azioni?
AARON	Sì, di non averne fatte mille di più. Anche ora maledico il giorno—e pure credo Che pochi cadano nell’ambito della mia maledizione— In cui non abbia commesso qualche male notorio, Come uccidere un uomo, o macchinarne la morte; Violare una fanciulla, o tramare il modo di farlo; Accusare qualche innocente e spergiurare; Suscitare mortale inimicizia fra due amici; Far rompere il collo al bestiame dei poveri; Dar fuoco a granai e pagliai nella notte, E dire ai padroni di spegnerli con le loro lacrime. Spesso ho dissotterrato morti dalle loro fosse E li ho posti ritti alla porta dei loro cari amici, Proprio quando il loro dolore era quasi dimenticato, E sulle loro pelli, come sulla scorza degli alberi, Ho col mio coltello inciso in lettere romane ‘Non muoia il vostro dolore benché io sia morto.’ Ma ho fatto mille cose terribili Volentieri come si ucciderebbe una mosca, E nulla in verità mi affligge di cuore Se non che non ne posso fare diecimila di più.
LUCIUS	Fate scendere il diavolo, ché non deve morire D’una morte sì dolce come l’impiccagione immediata. I Goti fanno scendere Aronne dalla scala
AARON	Se ci sono diavoli, vorrei essere un diavolo, Per vivere e bruciare in eterno fuoco, Purché avessi la vostra compagnia all’inferno Solo per tormentarvi con la mia lingua amara.
LUCIUS	Signori, tappategli la bocca, e non lo lasciate più parlare. I Goti imbavagliano Aronne.
(didascalia)	Entra Emilio
LUCIUS	UN GOTO Mio signore, c’è un messaggero da Roma Che desidera essere ammesso alla vostra presenza.
LUCIUS	Fatelo avvicinare. Benvenuto, Emilio. Quali novelle da Roma?
AEMILIUS	Signor Lucio, e voi principi dei Goti, L’Imperatore romano vi saluta tutti per mio mezzo, E poiché intende che siete in armi, Chiede un abboccamento nella casa di vostro padre, Invitandovi a chiedere i vostri ostaggi, E vi saranno immediatamente consegnati. UN GOTO Che dice il nostro generale?
LUCIUS	Emilio, dia l’Imperatore i suoi pegni A mio padre e a mio zio Marco, E noi verremo. Via!
(didascalia)	Squilli di tromba. Escono marciando

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Tamora and Chiron and Demetrius, her two sons, disguised
TAMORA	Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment, I will encounter with Andronicus And say I am Revenge, sent from below To join with him and right his heinous wrongs. Knock at his study, where they say he keeps To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge. Tell him Revenge is come to join with him And work confusion on his enemies.
(didascalia)	They knock, and Titus aloft opens his study door
TITUS	Who doth molest my contemplation? Is it your trick to make me ope the door, That so my sad decrees may fly away And all my study be to no effect? You are deceived; for what I mean to do, See here, in bloody lines I have set down, And what is written shall be executed.
TAMORA	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.
TAMORA	If thou didst know me thou wouldst talk with me.
TITUS	I am not mad, I know thee well enough; Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines, Witness these trenches made by grief and care, Witness the tiring day and heavy night, Witness all sorrow that I know thee well For our proud empress, mighty Tamora. Is not thy coming for my other hand?
TAMORA	Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora. She is thy enemy, and I thy friend. I am Revenge, sent from th’nfernal kingdom To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. Come down, and welcome me to this world’s light. Confer with me 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 them out, And in their ears tell them my dreadful name, Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
TITUS	Art thou Revenge, and art thou sent to me To be a torment to mine enemies?
TAMORA	I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.
TITUS	Do me some service ere I come to thee. Lo by thy side where Rape and Murder stands. Now give some surance that thou art Revenge, Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels, And then I’ll come and be thy wagoner, And whirl along with thee about the globe, Provide two proper palfreys, black as jet, To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away And find out murderers in their guilty caves. And when thy car is loaden with their heads I will dismount, and by thy wagon wheel Trot like a servile footman all day long, Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east Until his very downfall in the sea; And day by day I’ll do this heavy task, So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
TAMORA	These are my ministers, and come with me.
TITUS	Are they thy ministers? What are they called?
TAMORA	Rape and Murder, therefore called so ‘Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
TITUS	Good Lord, how like the Empress’ sons they are, And you the Empress! But we worldly men Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee, And if one arm’s embracement will content thee,
(didascalia)	I will embrace thee in it by and by. Exit aloft
TAMORA	This closing with him fits his lunacy. Whate’er I forge to feed his brainsick humours Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches, For now he firmly takes me for Revenge, And being credulous in this mad thought I’ll make him send for Lucius his son, And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure I’ll find some cunning practice out of hand To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths, Or at the least make them his enemies. See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus, below
TITUS	Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee. Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house. Rapine and Murder, you are welcome, too. How like the Empress and her sons you are! Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor. Could not all hell afford you such a devil?— For well I wot the Empress never wags But in her company there is a Moor, And would you represent our Queen aright It were convenient you had such a devil. But welcome as you are. What shall we do?
TAMORA	What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
DEMETRIUS	Show me a murderer, I’ll deal with him.
CHIRON	Show me a villain that hath done a rape, And I am sent to be revenged on him.
TAMORA	Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong, And I will be revenged on them all.
TITUS	(to Demetrius) 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. (To Chiron) Go thou with him, and when it is thy hap To find another that is like to thee, Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher. (To Tamora) Go thou with them, and in the Emperor’s court There is a queen attended by a Moor. Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion, For up and down she doth resemble thee. I pray thee, do on them some violent death; They have been violent to me and mine.
TAMORA	Well hast thou lessoned us. This shall we do; But would it please thee, good Andronicus, To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son, Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths, And bid him come and banquet at thy house— When he is here, even at thy solemn feast, I will bring in the Empress and her sons, The Emperor himself, and all thy foes, And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel, And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart. What says Andronicus to this device?
TITUS	Marcus, my brother! ’Tis sad Titus calls.
(didascalia)	Enter Marcus
TITUS	Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius. Thou shalt enquire him out among the Goths. Bid him repair to me, and bring with him Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths. Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are. Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them. This do thou for my love, and so let him, As he regards his aged father’s life.
MARCUS	This will I do, and soon return again. Exit
TAMORA	Now will I hence about thy business, And take my ministers along with me.
TITUS	Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, Or else I’ll call my brother back again, And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
TAMORA	(aside to her sons) What say you, boys, will you abide with him Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor How I have governed our determined jest? Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair, And tarry with him till I turn again.
TITUS	(aside) I knew them all, though they supposed me mad, And will o’erreach them in their own devices— A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam.
DEMETRIUS	Madam, depart at pleasure. Leave us here.
TAMORA	Farewell, Andronicus. Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
TITUS	I know thou dost, and sweet Revenge, farewell.
(didascalia)	Exit Tamora
CHIRON	Tell us, old man, how shall we be employed?
TITUS	Tut, I have work enough for you to do. Publius, come hither; Caius and Valentine.
(didascalia)	Enter Publius, Caius, and Valentine
PUBLIUS	What is your will?
TITUS	Know you these two?
PUBLIUS	The Empress’ sons I take them—Chiron, Demetrius.
TITUS	Fie, Publius, fie! Thou art too much deceived. The one is Murder, and Rape is the other’s name. And therefore bind them, gentle Publius; Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them. Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour, And now I find it. Therefore bind them sure, And stop their mouths if they begin to cry. Exit
CHIRON	Villains, forbear! We are the Empress’ sons.
PUBLIUS	And therefore do we what we are commanded. Publius, Caius, and Valentine bind and gag Chiron and Demetrius Stop close their mouths. Let them not speak a word. Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia
PUBLIUS	with a basin
TITUS	Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound. Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me, But let them hear what fearful words I utter. O 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 cut off and made a merry jest, Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity, Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced. What would you say if I should let you speak? Villains, for shame. You could not beg for grace. Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you. This one hand yet is left to cut your throats, Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold The basin that receives your guilty blood. You know your mother means to feast with me, And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad. Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust, And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste, And of the paste a coffin I will rear, And make two pasties of your shameful heads, And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam, Like to the earth swallow her own increase. This is the feast that I have bid her to, And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; For worse than Philomel you used my daughter, And worse than Progne I will be revenged. And now, prepare your throats. Lavinia, come. Receive the blood, and when that they are dead Let me go grind their bones to powder small, And with this hateful liquor temper it, And in that paste let their vile heads be baked. Come, come, be everyone officious To make this banquet, which I wish may prove More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast. He cuts their throats So, now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook And see them ready against their mother comes.
(didascalia)	Exeunt carrying the bodies

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Tamora e Chirone e Demetrio, i suoi due figli, travestiti
TAMORA	Così, in questo strano e cupo abbigliamento, Andrò incontro ad Andronico E dirò d’essere la Vendetta, mandata di laggiù Per unirmi a lui e raddrizzare i suoi atroci torti. Bussate al suo studio, dove dicono che si tenga A ruminare strane trame di terribile vendetta. Ditegli che la Vendetta è venuta a unirsi a lui E a portare rovina sui suoi nemici.
(didascalia)	Bussano, e Tito in alto apre la porta del suo studio
TITUS	Chi turba la mia contemplazione? È un vostro trucco per farmi aprire la porta, Sì che i miei tristi decreti volino via E tutto il mio studio riesca senza effetto? V’ingannate; ché ciò che intendo fare, Vedete qui, l’ho vergato in righe sanguinose, E ciò che è scritto sarà eseguito.
TAMORA	Tito, sono venuta a parlare con te.
TITUS	No, non una parola. Come posso ornare il mio discorso, Mancandomi una mano per dargli gesto? Tu hai vantaggio su di me, dunque basta.
TAMORA	Se tu mi conoscessi, parleresti con me.
TITUS	Non sono pazzo, ti conosco abbastanza bene; Ne sia testimone questo misero moncherino, testimoni queste cremisi righe, Testimoni questi solchi scavati dal dolore e dall’affanno, Testimoni il giorno spossante e la greve notte, Testimone ogni dolore che ti conosco bene Per la nostra superba imperatrice, la possente Tamora. Non vieni forse per l’altra mia mano?
TAMORA	Sappi, uomo dolente, ch’io non sono Tamora. Ella è tua nemica, e io tua amica. Io sono la Vendetta, mandata dal regno infernale Ad alleviare l’avvoltoio che ti rode la mente Operando furiosa vendetta sui tuoi nemici. Scendi, e accoglimi alla luce di questo mondo. Confèrisci con me d’omicidio e di morte. Non v’è cava caverna o nascondiglio, Né vasta oscurità o valle nebbiosa Dove il sanguinoso omicidio o il detestato stupro Possano acquattarsi per paura, ch’io non li scovi, E ai loro orecchi non dica il mio nome tremendo, Vendetta, che fa tremare il turpe offensore.
TITUS	Sei tu la Vendetta, e sei mandata a me Per essere tormento ai miei nemici?
TAMORA	Lo sono; perciò scendi, e accoglimi.
TITUS	Rendimi qualche servigio prima ch’io venga a te. Ecco al tuo fianco dove stanno lo Stupro e l’Omicidio. Ora dammi qualche garanzia che tu sei la Vendetta, Pugnalali, o straziali sulle ruote del tuo carro, E allora verrò e sarò il tuo carrettiere, E turbinerò con te attorno al globo, Procurerò due bei palafreni, neri come giaietto, Per trascinar via veloce il tuo carro vendicativo E scovare gli assassini nelle loro colpevoli tane. E quando il tuo cocchio sarà carico delle loro teste Scenderò, e accanto alla ruota del tuo carro Trotterò come un servile staffiere tutto il giorno, Fin dal sorgere d’Iperione a oriente Fino al suo stesso tramonto nel mare; E giorno per giorno compirò questa grave fatica, Purché tu distrugga costì la Rapina e l’Omicidio.
TAMORA	Questi sono i miei ministri, e vengono con me.
TITUS	Sono essi i tuoi ministri? Come si chiamano?
TAMORA	Stupro e Omicidio, così chiamati Perché prendono vendetta di tal genere d’uomini.
TITUS	Buon Dio, come somigliano ai figli dell’Imperatrice, E tu all’Imperatrice! Ma noi uomini mondani Abbiamo occhi miseri, folli, ingannevoli. O dolce Vendetta, ora vengo a te, E se l’abbraccio d’un solo braccio ti contenta,
(didascalia)	T’abbraccerò con esso fra poco. Esce dall’alto
TAMORA	Quest’accordarmi con lui s’adatta alla sua follia. Qualunque cosa io foggi per pascere i suoi umori malati Voi sostenetela e mantenetela nei vostri discorsi, Ché ora egli fermamente mi prende per la Vendetta, E, credulo in questo folle pensiero, Gli farò mandare a chiamare Lucio, suo figlio, E mentre a un banchetto lo terrò sicuro Troverò lì per lì qualche astuto espediente Per sbandare e disperdere gli sventati Goti, O per lo meno renderli suoi nemici. Ecco, egli viene, e devo attenermi al mio tema.
(didascalia)	Entra Tito, in basso
TITUS	A lungo sono stato derelitto, e tutto per te. Benvenuta, tremenda Furia, nella mia dolente casa. Rapina e Omicidio, benvenuti anche voi. Come somigliate all’Imperatrice e ai suoi figli! Bene sareste al completo, aveste solo un Moro. Non poteva tutto l’inferno fornirvi un tal diavolo?— Ché ben so che l’Imperatrice non si muove mai Senza che in sua compagnia vi sia un Moro, E se voleste rappresentare a dovere la nostra Regina Sarebbe conveniente che aveste un tal diavolo. Ma siate i benvenuti come siete. Che faremo?
TAMORA	Che vorresti che facessimo, Andronico?
DEMETRIUS	Mostrami un assassino, me ne occuperò io.
CHIRON	Mostrami uno scellerato che abbia commesso uno stupro, E son mandato a vendicarmi di lui.
TAMORA	Mostrami un migliaio che t’abbiano fatto torto, E io mi vendicherò di tutti loro.
TITUS	(a Demetrio) Guàrdati intorno per le malvagie strade di Roma, E quando troverai un uomo simile a te stesso, Buon Omicidio, pugnalalo; è un assassino. (A Chirone) Va’ tu con lui, e quando ti capiterà Di trovarne un altro simile a te, Buona Rapina, pugnalalo; è un violentatore. (A Tamora) Va’ tu con loro, e nella corte dell’Imperatore V’è una regina servita da un Moro. Bene la riconoscerai dalla tua stessa figura, Ché in tutto e per tutto ti somiglia. Ti prego, dà loro qualche violenta morte; Sono stati violenti con me e coi miei.
TAMORA	Bene ci hai istruiti. Così faremo; Ma ti piacerebbe, buon Andronico, Mandare a chiamare Lucio, il tuo tre volte valoroso figlio, Che guida verso Roma una schiera di bellicosi Goti, E invitarlo a venire a banchettare nella tua casa— Quando sarà qui, proprio al tuo solenne convito, Io condurrò dentro l’Imperatrice e i suoi figli, L’Imperatore stesso, e tutti i tuoi nemici, E alla tua mercé si piegheranno e s’inginocchieranno, E su di loro sfogherai il tuo cuore adirato. Che dice Andronico a questo disegno?
TITUS	Marco, fratello mio! È il dolente Tito che chiama.
(didascalia)	Entra Marco
TITUS	Va’, gentile Marco, da tuo nipote Lucio. Lo cercherai fra i Goti. Digli di venire da me, e di condurre con sé Alcuni dei principali principi dei Goti. Digli d’accampare i suoi soldati dove sono. Digli che l’Imperatore e anche l’Imperatrice Banchettano nella mia casa, ed egli banchetterà con loro. Fa’ questo per il mio amore, e così faccia lui, Se ha a cuore la vita del suo vecchio padre.
MARCUS	Questo farò, e presto tornerò. Esce
TAMORA	Ora me n’andrò per la tua faccenda, E porterò con me i miei ministri.
TITUS	No, no, restino con me lo Stupro e l’Omicidio, O altrimenti richiamerò indietro mio fratello, E non m’atterrò ad altra vendetta che Lucio.
TAMORA	(a parte ai suoi figli) Che dite, ragazzi, resterete con lui Mentre io vado a dire al mio signore l’Imperatore Come ho condotto la burla che avevamo stabilita? Cedete al suo umore, lusingatelo e parlategli bene, E trattenetevi con lui finché io non ritorni.
TITUS	(a parte) Li ho riconosciuti tutti, benché mi credessero pazzo, E li supererò nei loro stessi artifici— Una coppia di maledetti mastini infernali e la loro madre.
DEMETRIUS	Signora, partite a piacere. Lasciateci qui.
TAMORA	Addio, Andronico. La Vendetta ora va A ordire un complotto per tradire i tuoi nemici.
TITUS	So che lo fai, e dolce Vendetta, addio.
(didascalia)	Esce Tamora
CHIRON	Dicci, vecchio, in che saremo impiegati?
TITUS	Bah, ho lavoro abbastanza da darvi. Publio, vieni qua; Caio e Valentino.
(didascalia)	Entrano Publio, Caio e Valentino
PUBLIUS	Qual è il vostro volere?
TITUS	Conosci questi due?
PUBLIUS	I figli dell’Imperatrice li ritengo—Chirone, Demetrio.
TITUS	Ohibò, Publio, ohibò! Sei troppo ingannato. L’uno è l’Omicidio, e Stupro è il nome dell’altro. E perciò legali, gentile Publio; Caio e Valentino, mettete loro le mani addosso. Spesso m’avete udito desiderare una tal ora, E ora la trovo. Perciò legateli stretti, E tappate loro la bocca se cominciano a gridare. Esce
CHIRON	Scellerati, fermatevi! Siamo i figli dell’Imperatrice.
PUBLIUS	E appunto per questo facciamo ciò che ci è comandato. Publio, Caio e Valentino legano e imbavagliano Chirone e Demetrio Tappate ben strette le loro bocche. Non li lasciate dire una parola. È legato sicuro? Badate di legarli forte.
(didascalia)	Entrano Tito Andronico con un coltello, e Lavinia
PUBLIUS	con un bacile
TITUS	Vieni, vieni, Lavinia. Guarda, i tuoi nemici sono legati. Signori, tappate loro la bocca. Non li lasciate parlare a me, Ma lasciate che odano quali terribili parole io pronuncio. O scellerati, Chirone e Demetrio! Qui sta la primavera che voi avete insozzata di fango, Questa bella estate mescolata al vostro inverno. Uccideste suo marito, e per quella vile colpa Due dei suoi fratelli furono condannati a morte, La mia mano fu mozzata e fattane allegra beffa, Entrambe le sue dolci mani, la lingua, e ciò che è più caro Di mani o di lingua, la sua immacolata castità, Traditori disumani, costringeste e violaste. Che direste se vi lasciassi parlare? Scellerati, vergogna. Non sapreste implorare grazia. Udite, miserabili, come intendo martoriarvi. Quest’unica mano mi resta per tagliarvi la gola, Mentre Lavinia fra i suoi moncherini regge Il bacile che riceve il vostro colpevole sangue. Sapete che vostra madre intende banchettare con me, E si chiama Vendetta, e mi crede pazzo. Udite, scellerati, macinerò le vostre ossa in polvere, E col vostro sangue e con essa farò una pasta, E della pasta innalzerò una crosta, E farò due pasticci delle vostre teste infami, E inviterò quella sgualdrina, la vostra empia madre, A inghiottire, come la terra, la sua stessa prole. Questo è il convito a cui l’ho invitata, E questo il banchetto di cui si satollerà; Ché peggio che Filomela trattaste mia figlia, E peggio che Progne io mi vendicherò. E ora, preparate le vostre gole. Lavinia, vieni. Ricevi il sangue, e quando saranno morti Ch’io vada a macinare le loro ossa in polvere minuta, E con questo odioso liquore la impasti, E in quella pasta si cuociano le loro vili teste. Su, su, sia ognuno sollecito A preparare questo banchetto, che spero risulti Più crudo e sanguinoso del convito dei Centauri. Taglia loro la gola Ecco, ora portateli dentro, ché farò il cuoco E li preparerò per quando verrà la loro madre.
(didascalia)	Escono portando i corpi

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron, prisoner, and an attendant with his child
LUCIUS	Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind That I repair to Rome, I am content. A GOTH And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
LUCIUS	Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil. Let him receive no sust’nance, fetter him Till he be brought unto the Empress’ face For testimony of her foul proceedings, And see the ambush of our friends be strong. I fear the Emperor means no good to us.
AARON	Some devil whisper curses in my ear And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my swelling heart.
LUCIUS	Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Goths with Aaron and his child
(didascalia)	Flourish
LUCIUS	The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
(didascalia)	Enter Saturninus the Emperor, and Tamora the
LUCIUS	Empress, with Aemilius, Tribunes, Senators, and others
SATURNINUS	What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
LUCIUS	What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
MARCUS	Rome’s emperor and nephew, break the parle. These quarrels must be quietly debated. The feast is ready which the careful Titus Hath ordained to an honourable end, For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome. Please you therefore draw nigh, and take your places.
SATURNINUS	Marchs, we will.
(didascalia)	Hautboys. A table brought in. They sit.
(didascalia)	Enter Titus like a cook, placing the dishes, and
(didascalia)	Lavinia with a veil over her face; young Lucius,
(didascalia)	and others
TITUS	Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread Queen; Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius; And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor, ‘Twill fill your stomachs. Please you, eat of it.
SATURNINUS	Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
TITUS	Because I would be sure to have all well To entertain your highness and your Empress.
TAMORA	We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.
TITUS	An if your highness knew my heart, you were. My lord the Emperor, resolve me this: Was it well done of rash Virginius To slay his daughter with his own right hand Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?
SATURNINUS	It was, Andronicus.
TITUS	Your reason, mighty lord?
SATURNINUS	Because the girl should not survive her shame, And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
TITUS	A reason mighty, strong, effectual; A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant For me, most wretched, to perform the like. Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee, And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die.
(didascalia)	He kills her
SATURNINUS	What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
TITUS	Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind. I am as woeful as Virginius was, And have a thousand times more cause than he To do this outrage, and it now is done.
SATURNINUS	What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.
TITUS	Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your highness feed?
TAMORA	Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
TITUS	Not I, ‘twas Chiron and Demetrius. They ravished her, and cut away her tongue, And they, ’twas they, that did her all this wrong.
SATURNINUS	Go, fetch them hither to us presently.
(didascalia)	TITUS revealing the heads
SATURNINUS	Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. ‘Tis true, ’tis true, witness my knife’s sharp point. He stabs the Empress
SATURNINUS	Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed. He kills Titus
LUCIUS	Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed? There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. He kills Saturninus. Confusion follows.
(didascalia)	Enter Goths. Lucius, Marcus and others go aloft
MARCUS	You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome, By uproars severed, as a flight of fowl Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts, O, let me teach you how to knit again This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, These broken limbs again into one body. A ROMAN LORD Let Rome herself be bane unto herself, And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, Do shameful execution on herself But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, Grave witnesses of true experience, Cannot induce you to attend my words. (To Lucius) Speak, Rome’s dear friend, as erst our ancestor When with his solemn tongue he did discourse To lovesick Dido’s sad-attending ear The story of that baleful-burning night When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam’s Troy. Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears, Or who hath brought the fatal engine in That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound. My heart is not compact of flint nor steel, Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, But floods of tears will drown my oratory And break my utt’rance even in the time When it should move ye to attend me most, And force you to commiseration. Here’s Rome’s young captain. Let him tell the tale, While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
LUCIUS	Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you That Chiron and the damned Demetrius Were they that murdered our Emperor’s brother, And they it were that ravished our sister. For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, Our father’s tears despised, and basely cozened Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out And sent her enemies unto the grave. Lastly myself, unkindly banished, The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out To beg relief among Rome’s enemies, Who drowned their enmity in my true tears And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend. I am the turned-forth, be it known to you, That have preserved her welfare in my blood, And from her bosom took the enemy’s point, Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body. Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I. My scars can witness, dumb although they are, That my report is just and full of truth. But soft, methinks I do digress too much, Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me, For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
MARCUS	Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child. Of this was Tamora delivered, The issue of an irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes. The villain is alive in Titus’ house, And as he is to witness, this is true. Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge These wrongs unspeakable, past patience, Or more than any living man could bear. Now have you heard the truth. What say you, Romans? Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, And from the place where you behold us pleading The poor remainder of Andronici Will hand in hand all headlong hurl ourselves And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls And make a mutual closure of our house. Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall; Lo, hand in hand Lucius and I will fall.
AEMILIUS	Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, And bring our emperor gently in thy hand, Lucius, our emperor—for well I know The common voice do cry it shall be so.
ROMANS	Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal emperor!
MARCUS	(to attendants) Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house And hither hale that misbelieving Moor To be adjudged some direful slaught’ring death As punishment for his most wicked life. Exeunt some
(didascalia)	Lucius, Marcus, and the others come down
(didascalia)	ROMANS
MARCUS	Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!
LUCIUS	Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe. But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, For nature puts me to a heavy task. Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk. (Kissing Titus) O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips, These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face, The last true duties of thy noble son.
MARCUS	(kissing Titus) Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss, Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips. O, were the sum of these that I should pay Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.
LUCIUS	(to young Lucius) Come hither, boy, come, come, and learn of us To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well. Many a time he danced thee on his knee, Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow. Many a story hath he told to thee, And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind, And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
MARCUS	How many thousand times hath these poor lips, When they were living, warmed themselves on thine! O now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss. Bid him farewell. Commit him to the grave. Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
YOUNG LUCIUS	(kissing Titus) O grandsire, grandsire, ev’n with all my heart Would I were dead, so you did live again. O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping. My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
(didascalia)	Enter some with Aaron
YOUNG LUCIUS	A ROMAN You sad Andronici, have done with woes. Give sentence on this execrable wretch That hath been breeder of these dire events.
LUCIUS	Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him. There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food. If anyone relieves or pities him, For the offence he dies. This is our doom. Some stay to see him fastened in the earth.
AARON	Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb? I am no baby, I, that with base prayers I should repent the evils I have done. Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did Would I perform if I might have my will. If one good deed in all my life I did I do repent it from my very soul.
LUCIUS	Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence, And give him burial in his father’s grave. My father and Lavinia shall forthwith Be closed in our household’s monument. As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora, No funeral rite nor man in mourning weed, No mournful bell shall ring her burial; But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey. Her life was beastly and devoid of pity, And being dead, let birds on her take pity.
(didascalia)	Exeunt with the bodies
A. AFTER	1.1.35 The following passage, found in the First Quarto following a comma after ‘field’ but not included in the Second or Third Quartos or the Folio, conflicts with the subsequent action and presumably should have been deleted. (In the second line, Q1 reads ’of that’ for ‘of the’.) and at this day To the monument of the Andronici Done sacrifice of expiation, And slain the noblest prisoner of the Goths.
B. AFTER	1.1.283 The following passage found in the quartos and the Folio is difficult to reconcile with the apparent need for Saturninus and his party to leave the stage at 275.1-2 before entering ‘above’ at 294.2-4. It is omitted from our text in the belief that Shakespeare intended it to be deleted after adding the episode of Mutius’ killing to his original draft, and that the printers of Q1 included it by accident.
(didascalia)	TITUS
B. AFTER	Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised.
SATURNINUS	Surprised, by whom?
BASSIANUS	By him that justly may Bear his betrothed from all the world away.
C. AFTER	4.3.93 The following lines, found in the early texts, appear to be a draft of the subsequent six lines.
MARCUS	(to Titus) Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration, and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from you.
TITUS	(to the Clown) Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with a grace?
CLOWN	Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
IN	narrative sequence, Richard III follows directly after Richard Duke of York, and that play’s closing scenes, in which Richard of Gloucester expresses his ambitions for the crown, suggest that Shakespeare had a sequel in mind. But he seems to have gone back to tell the beginning of the story of Henry VI’s reign before covering the events from Henry VI’s death (in 1471) to the Battle of Bosworth (1485). We have no record of the first performance of Richard III (probably in late 1592 or early 1593, outside London); it was printed in 1597, with five reprints before its inclusion in the 1623 Folio. The principal source of information about Richard III available to Shakespeare was Sir Thomas More’s History of King Richard III as incorporated in chronicle histories by Edward Hall (1542) and Raphael Holinshed (1577, revised in 1587), both of which Shakespeare seems to have used. His artistic influences include the tragedies of the Roman dramatist Seneca (who was born about 4 BC and died in AD 65), with their ghosts, their rhetorical style, their prominent choruses, and their indirect, highly formal presentation of violent events. (Except for the stabbing of Clarence (1.4) there is no on-stage violence in Richard III until the final battle scenes.) In this play, Shakespeare demonstrates a more complete artistic control of his historical material than in its predecessors: Richard himself is a more dominating central figure than is to be found in any of the earlier plays, historical events are freely manipulated in the interests of an overriding design, and the play’s language is more highly patterned and rhetorically unified. That part of the play which shows Richard’s bloody progress to the throne is based on the events of some twelve years; the remainder covers the two years of his reign. Shakespeare omits some important events, but invents Richard’s wooing of Lady Anne over her father-in-law’s coffin, and causes Queen Margaret, who had returned to France in 1476 and who died before Richard became king, to remain in England as a choric figure of grief and retribution. The characterization of Richard as a self-delighting ironist builds upon More. The episodes in which the older women of the play—the Duchess of York, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Margaret—bemoan their losses, and the climactic procession of ghosts before the final confrontation of Richard with the idealized figure of Richmond, the future Henry VII, help to make Richard III the culmination of a tetralogy as well as a masterly poetic drama in its own right. The final speech, in which Richmond, heir to the house of Lancaster and grandfather of Queen Elizabeth I, proclaims the union of ‘the white rose and the red’ in his marriage to Elizabeth of York, provides a patriotic climax which must have been immensely stirring to the play’s early audiences. Colley Cibber’s adaptation (1700) of Richard III, incorporating the death of Henry VI, shortening and adapting the play, and making the central role (played by Cibber) even more dominant than it had originally been, held the stage with great success until the late nineteenth century. Since then, Shakespeare’s text has been restored (though usually abbreviated—next to Hamlet, this is Shakespeare’s longest play), and the role of Richard has continued to present a rewarding challenge to leading actors.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Lucio, Marco e i Goti, con Aronne prigioniero, e un servo col suo bambino
LUCIUS	Zio Marco, poiché è volontà di mio padre Ch’io mi rechi a Roma, ne son contento. UN GOTO E la nostra con la tua, accada quel che la sorte vorrà.
LUCIUS	Buon zio, prendete in custodia questo barbaro Moro, Questa tigre vorace, questo maledetto diavolo. Non riceva alcun nutrimento, incatenatelo Finché non sia condotto al cospetto dell’Imperatrice A testimonianza dei suoi turpi maneggi, E badate che l’agguato dei nostri amici sia forte. Temo che l’Imperatore non ci voglia alcun bene.
AARON	Qualche diavolo mi sussurri maledizioni all’orecchio E mi suggerisca, sì che la mia lingua proferisca La velenosa malizia del mio cuore gonfio.
LUCIUS	Via, cane disumano, schiavo empio! Signori, aiutate nostro zio a condurlo dentro.
(didascalia)	Escono i Goti con Aronne e il suo bambino
(didascalia)	Squilli di tromba
LUCIUS	Le trombe indicano che l’Imperatore è vicino.
(didascalia)	Entrano Saturnino l’Imperatore, e Tamora l’
LUCIUS	Imperatrice, con Emilio, Tribuni, Senatori e altri
SATURNINUS	Come, ha il firmamento più d’un sole?
LUCIUS	A che ti giova chiamarti un sole?
MARCUS	Imperatore di Roma, e nipote, troncate la contesa. Queste dispute vanno discusse con calma. Il convito è pronto, che il sollecito Tito Ha ordinato a onorevole fine, Per la pace, per l’amore, per l’alleanza e per il bene di Roma. Vi piaccia dunque avvicinarvi, e prendere i vostri posti.
SATURNINUS	Marco, lo faremo.
(didascalia)	Oboi. Si porta dentro una tavola. Siedono.
(didascalia)	Entra Tito vestito da cuoco, disponendo le vivande, e
(didascalia)	Lavinia con un velo sul volto; il giovane Lucio,
(didascalia)	e altri
TITUS	Benvenuto, mio grazioso signore; benvenuta, temuta Regina; Benvenuti, bellicosi Goti; benvenuto, Lucio; E benvenuti tutti. Benché la mensa sia povera, Vi riempirà lo stomaco. Vi piaccia, mangiatene.
SATURNINUS	Perché sei così vestito, Andronico?
TITUS	Perché volevo esser certo che tutto andasse bene Per ricevere vostra altezza e la vostra Imperatrice.
TAMORA	Vi siamo obbligati, buon Andronico.
TITUS	E se vostra altezza conoscesse il mio cuore, lo sareste. Mio signore Imperatore, risolvetemi questo: Fece bene l’impetuoso Virginio A uccidere sua figlia con la propria destra Perché era stata forzata, macchiata e deflorata?
SATURNINUS	Fece bene, Andronico.
TITUS	La vostra ragione, possente signore?
SATURNINUS	Perché la fanciulla non sopravvivesse alla sua vergogna, E con la sua presenza ne rinnovasse di continuo i dolori.
TITUS	Una ragione possente, forte, efficace; Un modello, un precedente, e vivo mandato Per me, infelicissimo, a fare altrettanto. Muori, muori, Lavinia, e con te la tua vergogna, E con la tua vergogna muoia il dolore di tuo padre.
(didascalia)	La uccide
SATURNINUS	Che hai fatto, snaturato e crudele?
TITUS	Ucciso colei per cui le mie lacrime m’hanno reso cieco. Sono dolente quanto fu Virginio, E ho mille volte più motivo di lui Per compiere quest’atroce atto, e ora è compiuto.
SATURNINUS	Come, fu violata? Di’ chi commise il fatto.
TITUS	Vi piace mangiare? Piace a vostra altezza cibarsi?
TAMORA	Perché hai ucciso così la tua unica figlia?
TITUS	Non io, furono Chirone e Demetrio. Essi la violarono, e le recisero la lingua, E furono essi, essi, a farle tutto questo torto.
SATURNINUS	Andate, conduceteli qui da noi súbito.
(didascalia)	TITO che scopre le teste
SATURNINUS	Ebbene, eccoli lì, cotti entrambi in questo pasticcio, Del quale la loro madre s’è delicatamente pasciuta, Mangiando la carne che ella stessa ha generato. È vero, è vero, ne sia testimone l’aguzza punta del mio coltello. Pugnala l’Imperatrice
SATURNINUS	Muori, forsennato miserabile, per questo maledetto atto. Uccide Tito
LUCIUS	Può l’occhio del figlio veder sanguinare suo padre? Ecco merito per merito, morte per un atto mortale. Uccide Saturnino. Segue confusione.
(didascalia)	Entrano i Goti. Lucio, Marco e altri salgono in alto
MARCUS	Voi uomini dal volto mesto, popolo e figli di Roma, Divisi dai tumulti, come uno stormo d’uccelli Disperso da venti e da alte raffiche tempestose, Oh, lasciate ch’io v’insegni a riunire di nuovo Questo grano sparso in un unico covone comune, Queste membra spezzate di nuovo in un solo corpo. UN SIGNORE ROMANO Sia Roma stessa veleno a se stessa, Ed ella, a cui potenti regni fanno riverenza, Come un derelitto e disperato naufrago, Compia vergognosa esecuzione su se stessa Se i miei gelidi segni e le crepe dell’età, Gravi testimoni di vera esperienza, Non possono indurvi ad ascoltare le mie parole. (A Lucio) Parla, caro amico di Roma, come già il nostro antenato Quando con la sua solenne lingua narrò All’orecchio mestamente attento di Didone innamorata La storia di quella notte di funesto incendio Quando i sottili Greci sorpresero la Troia del Re Priamo. Dicci qual Sinone ha stregato i nostri orecchi, O chi ha introdotto la fatale macchina Che dà alla nostra Troia, alla nostra Roma, la ferita civile. Il mio cuore non è composto di selce né d’acciaio, Né posso esprimere tutto il nostro amaro dolore, Ché fiumi di lacrime annegheranno la mia oratoria E spezzeranno la mia parola proprio nel momento In cui dovrebbe muovervi ad ascoltarmi di più, E costringervi a commiserazione. Ecco il giovane capitano di Roma. Racconti egli la storia, Mentre io sto in disparte e piango a udirlo parlare.
LUCIUS	Allora, grazioso uditorio, vi sia noto Che Chirone e il dannato Demetrio Furono coloro che assassinarono il fratello del nostro Imperatore, E furono essi a violare nostra sorella. Per le loro crudeli colpe i nostri fratelli furono decapitati, Le lacrime di nostro padre disprezzate, ed egli vilmente truffato Di quella fedele mano che combatté fino in fondo la causa di Roma E mandò i suoi nemici alla tomba. Infine io stesso, crudelmente bandito, Le porte chiuse su di me, e cacciato via piangente A mendicare soccorso fra i nemici di Roma, I quali annegarono la loro inimicizia nelle mie sincere lacrime E apersero le braccia ad abbracciarmi come amico. Io sono il cacciato via, vi sia noto, Che ho preservato il suo bene col mio sangue, E dal suo seno ho ricevuto la punta del nemico, Inguainando l’acciaio nel mio avventuroso corpo. Ahimè, sapete ch’io non sono un millantatore. Le mie cicatrici possono testimoniare, mute benché siano, Che il mio racconto è giusto e pieno di verità. Ma piano, mi pare di divagare troppo, Adducendo la mia vana lode. Oh, perdonatemi, Ché quando non v’è amico accanto, gli uomini lodano se stessi.
MARCUS	Ora tocca a me parlare. Ecco il bambino. Di questo fu sgravata Tamora, La prole d’un Moro irreligioso, Principale architetto e ordinatore di queste sciagure. Lo scellerato è vivo nella casa di Tito, Ed egli è là a testimoniare che questo è vero. Ora giudicate qual motivo ebbe Tito di vendicare Questi torti indicibili, oltre ogni pazienza, O più di quanto uomo vivente potrebbe sopportare. Ora avete udito la verità. Che dite, Romani? Se abbiamo fatto alcunché di male, mostrateci in che, E dal luogo dove ci vedete perorare Il povero avanzo degli Andronici Mano nella mano ci getteremo tutti a capofitto E sulle pietre scabre spanderemo le nostre anime E faremo comune chiusura della nostra casa. Parlate, Romani, parlate, e se dite che lo faremo; Ecco, mano nella mano Lucio e io cadremo.
AEMILIUS	Venite, venite, o venerando uomo di Roma, E conducete gentilmente per mano il nostro imperatore, Lucio, il nostro imperatore—ché ben so Che la voce comune grida che così sarà.
ROMANI	Lucio, salve, regale imperatore di Roma!
MARCUS	(ai servi) Andate, andate nella dolente casa del vecchio Tito E trascinate qua quel miscredente Moro Perché gli sia aggiudicata qualche atroce morte carnefice A punizione della sua vita scelleratissima. Escono alcuni
(didascalia)	Lucio, Marco e gli altri scendono
(didascalia)	ROMANI
MARCUS	Lucio, salve, grazioso governatore di Roma!
LUCIUS	Grazie, gentili Romani. Possa io governare così Da sanare i mali di Roma e asciugarne il dolore. Ma, gentile popolo, datemi un poco di tregua, Ché la natura m’impone un grave compito. State tutti in disparte, ma voi, zio, avvicinatevi A spargere ossequiose lacrime su questo tronco. (Baciando Tito) Oh, prendi questo caldo bacio sulle tue pallide fredde labbra, Queste dolorose gocce sul tuo volto insanguinato, Gli ultimi veri doveri del tuo nobile figlio.
MARCUS	(baciando Tito) Lacrima per lacrima, e amoroso bacio per bacio, Tuo fratello Marco offre sulle tue labbra. Oh, fosse la somma di questi ch’io devo pagare Innumerevole e infinita, pure li pagherei.
LUCIUS	(al giovane Lucio) Vieni qua, fanciullo, vieni, vieni, e impara da noi A sciogliersi in pianto. Tuo nonno t’amava bene. Molte volte ti fece ballare sul ginocchio, Ti cantò per addormentarti, il suo petto amoroso tuo guanciale. Molte storie t’ha raccontato, E t’ha detto di serbare in mente i suoi bei racconti, E di parlarne quand’egli fosse morto e scomparso.
MARCUS	Quante migliaia di volte queste povere labbra, Quando erano vive, si sono scaldate sulle tue! Oh ora, dolce fanciullo, dà loro l’ultimo bacio. Dagli l’addio. Affidalo alla tomba. Fa’ loro questa cortesia, e prendi da esse congedo.
GIOVANE LUCIUS	(baciando Tito) O nonno, nonno, con tutto il cuore Vorrei esser morto, purché voi tornaste a vivere. O Signore, non posso parlargli per il pianto. Le mie lacrime mi soffocheranno se apro la bocca.
(didascalia)	Entrano alcuni con Aronne
GIOVANE LUCIUS	UN ROMANO Voi mesti Andronici, ponete fine ai lamenti. Pronunciate sentenza su questo esecrabile miserabile Che è stato generatore di questi terribili eventi.
LUCIUS	Piantatelo nella terra fino al petto e fatelo morire di fame. Là stia ritto, e deliri, e gridi per il cibo. Se alcuno lo soccorre o ne ha pietà, Per tale offesa muore. Questa è la nostra sentenza. Alcuni restino a vederlo confitto nella terra.
AARON	Ah, perché l’ira dovrebbe esser muta e la furia senza voce? Non sono un bambino, io, da pentirmi con vili preghiere Dei mali che ho commesso. Diecimila peggiori di quanti mai ne feci Ne compirei, se potessi fare a mio modo. Se una sola buona azione feci in tutta la mia vita Me ne pento dal fondo dell’anima.
LUCIUS	Alcuni amici affettuosi portino via di qui l’Imperatore, E gli diano sepoltura nella tomba di suo padre. Mio padre e Lavinia saranno súbito Chiusi nel monumento della nostra casata. Quanto a quella tigre vorace, Tamora, Nessun rito funebre né uomo in veste di lutto, Nessuna campana funerea suonerà la sua sepoltura; Ma gettatela in pasto alle bestie e agli uccelli. La sua vita fu bestiale e priva di pietà, E ora ch’è morta, abbiano gli uccelli pietà di lei.
(didascalia)	Escono coi corpi
A. DOPO	1.1.35 Il passo seguente, presente nel Primo in-quarto dopo una virgola che segue ‘field’ ma non incluso nel Secondo o nel Terzo in-quarto né nel Folio, contrasta con l’azione successiva e presumibilmente avrebbe dovuto essere espunto. (Nella seconda riga, Q1 legge ’of that’ invece di ‘of the’.) e in questo giorno Al monumento degli Andronici Compiuto sacrificio d’espiazione, E ucciso il più nobile prigioniero dei Goti.
B. DOPO	1.1.283 Il passo seguente, presente negli in-quarto e nel Folio, è difficile da conciliare con l’apparente necessità che Saturnino e il suo seguito lascino la scena a 275.1-2 prima di entrare ‘in alto’ a 294.2-4. È omesso dal nostro testo nella convinzione che Shakespeare intendesse espungerlo dopo aver aggiunto al suo abbozzo originale l’episodio dell’uccisione di Muzio, e che gli stampatori di Q1 lo includessero per errore.
(didascalia)	TITO
B. DOPO	Tradimento, mio signore! Lavinia è stata rapita.
SATURNINUS	Rapita, da chi?
BASSIANUS	Da colui che giustamente può Portar via la sua promessa lontano da tutto il mondo.
C. DOPO	4.3.93 Le righe seguenti, presenti nei testi antichi, sembrano essere un abbozzo delle sei righe successive.
MARCUS	(a Tito) Ebbene, signore, questo è quanto mai adatto a servire per la vostra orazione, e ch’egli consegni i piccioni all’Imperatore da parte vostra.
TITUS	(al Buffone) Dimmi, sapresti recitare un’orazione all’Imperatore con garbo?
BUFFONE	No davvero, signore, non ho mai saputo dire il benedicite in vita mia.