Titus Andronicus
Act V, Scene 3
Court of Titus’s house.
- Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths with Aaron prisoner, and
- his child in the arms of an Attendant.
Lucius
1 - 2- Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind
- That I repair to Rome, I am content.
First Goth
3- And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
Lucius
4 - 10- 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
11 - 13- Some devil whisper curses in my ear,
- And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
- The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
Lucius
14 - 16- Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!
- Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
- Exeunt Goths with Aaron. Sound trumpets within.
- The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
- Enter Emperor and Empress with Aemilius, Tribunes, Senators,
- and others.
Saturninus
17- What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
Lucius
18- What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
Marcus
19 - 24- Rome’s emperor, and nephew, break the parle,
- These quarrels must be quietly debated.
- The feast is ready which the careful Titus
- Hath ordain’d to an honorable end,
- For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome.
- Please you, therefore, draw nigh and take your places.
Saturninus
25- Marcus, we will.
- A table brought in. The company sit down.
- Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the
- dishes, and Lavinia with a veil over her face, young Lucius,
- and others.
Titus
26 - 29- Welcome, my 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
30- Why art thou thus attir’d, Andronicus?
Titus
31 - 32- Because I would be sure to have all well,
- To entertain your Highness and your empress.
Tamora
33- We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.
Titus
34 - 38- And 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 enforc’d, stain’d, and deflow’r’d?
Saturninus
39- It was, Andronicus.
Titus
40- Your reason, mighty lord?
Saturninus
41 - 42- Because the girl should not survive her shame,
- And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
Titus
43 - 47- A reason mighty, strong, and effectual,
- A pattern, president, 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!
- He kills her.
Saturninus
48- What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
Titus
49 - 52- Kill’d 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
53- What, was she ravish’d? Tell who did the deed.
Titus
54- Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your Highness feed?
Tamora
55- Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
Titus
56 - 58- Not I, ’twas Chiron and Demetrius:
- They ravish’d her, and cut away her tongue,
- And they, ’twas they, that did her all this wrong.
Saturninus
59- Go fetch them hither to us presently.
Titus
60 - 63- 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
64- Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!
- Kills Titus.
Lucius
65 - 66- Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed?
- There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!
- Kills Saturninus. A great tumult.
- Exeunt Lucius, Marcus, Aemilius, and others and enter above.
Marcus
67 - 72- You sad-fac’d men, people and sons of Rome,
- By uproars sever’d, as a flight of fowl
- Scatter’d 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.
Aemilius
73 - 95- Let Rome herself be bane unto herself,
- And she whom mighty kingdoms cur’sy 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 love-sick Dido’s sad attending ear
- The story of that baleful burning night,
- When subtile Greeks surpris’d King Priam’s Troy.
- Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch’d 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
96 - 118- Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you
- That Chiron and the damn’d Demetrius
- Were they that murd’red our Emperor’s brother,
- And they it were that ravished our sister.
- For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
- Our father’s tears despis’d, and basely cozen’d
- 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 turn’d weeping out
- To beg relief among Rome’s enemies,
- Who drown’d their enmity in my true tears,
- And op’d their arms to embrace me as a friend.
- I am the turned forth, be it known to you,
- That have preserv’d 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
119 - 136- Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child:
- Pointing to Aaron’s child in the arms of an Attendant.
- 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
137 - 140- Come, come, thou reverent 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.
All
141- Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal Emperor!
Marcus
142 - 145- To Attendants.
- Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house,
- And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
- To be adjudg’d some direful slaught’ring death,
- As punishment for his most wicked life.
- Exeunt Attendants
- Lucius, Marcus, Aemilius, and the others descend.
All
146- Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!
Lucius
147 - 155- Thanks, gentle Romans, may I govern so,
- To heal Rome’s harms, and wipe away her woe!
- But, gentle people, give me aim a while,
- For nature puts me to a heavy task.
- Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near
- To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
- O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
- Kisses Titus.
- These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain’d face,
- The last true duties of thy noble son!
Marcus
156 - 159- 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
160 - 166- Come hither, boy, come, come, and learn of us
- To melt in showers; thy grandsire lov’d thee well.
- Many a time he danc’d 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
167 - 171- How many thousand times hath these poor lips,
- When they were living, warm’d 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
172 - 175- 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.
- Enter Attendants with Aaron.
Aemilius
176 - 178- You sad Andronici, have done with woes.
- Give sentence on this execrable wretch
- That hath been breeder of these dire events.
Lucius
179 - 183- Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him,
- There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
- If any one relieves or pities him,
- For the offense he dies. This is our doom.
- Some stay to see him fast’ned in the earth.
Aaron
184 - 190- 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
191 - 200- Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
- And give him burial in his fathers’ 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.
- Exeunt.