 | Titus Andronicus, or The Rape of Lavinia |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter Bassianus, Lavinia; Mutius upon his Guard; Titus Pressing in with his Sword, and followers. Lucius behind.Mutius.
No man passes here.
Titus.
What Villain, boy, Bar'st me my way in Rome?
Mutius.
Help Lucius! help!
[falls.
Lucius.
O Sir you are unjust,
In a Wrong Quarrell you have slain your Son.
10
Nor thou, nor he, are any Sons of Mine,
My Sons wou'd never so dishonour me,
Traytor, Restore Lavinia to the Emperour.
Lucius.
Dead if you will, but not to be his Wife,
That is anothers Lawfull promis'd Love.
Enter Emperour, Tamora, Her two Sons; and Aron the Moor.
Emp.
No Titus, no, the Emperour needs thee not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy race,
She never, nor thy Trayterous Sons I'le trust,
Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
Was none in Rome to make a property,
But me? shortly thou'lt proudly Bragg,
I poorly begg'd the Empire at thy hands.
Titus.
O Monstrous! What reprochfull words are these?
Emp.
But go, go give that foolish toy thy daughter
To him that flourisht for her with his Sword.
A valiant Son-in-Law thou shalt Enjoy,
One Fit to Bandy with thy Law-less Sons,
To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome.
Titus.
These words are Razors to my Loyall heart.
Emp.
Therefore Lovely Tamora Queen of Goths,
That like the Stately Thebe 'mong her Nimphs,
Out-shin'st the brightest Roman Dames,
If thou art pleas'd with this my sudden choice,
Behold I take thee Tamora for my Bride,
And will Create thee Empress of Rome.
Speak thou Majestick Goth, dost thou approve
my choice? Then by all our Roman Gods
I swear to lead thee to their Altars strait,
Where Tapors now Burn Bright, and Ev'ry thing
In Readyness for Hymeneus Stand.
Thence in Imperiall Pomp shalt thou be Led,
The Glorious partner of my Throne and Bed.
Tamora.
And here in sight of Heaven to Rome I swear,
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
She but the trifles will of Empire share,
His Vacant hours shall her ambition bound,
And all her hopes with Love be fully crown'd.
But to my Emperour this one thing I commend
In highest care and greatest Love 'tis done,
Receive this worthy Moor to your esteem.
Emp.
Dark is the Case, but thro't a noble light
11
Tam.
First, be the place he holds in Trust and Confidence,
His head in Counsell, and his hand in Warr
Will never fail to do you service.
Aron.
If Blushes could be seen thro' this black Vayle,
These undeserved praises, from your Mouth,
Would dye my Vizage of another hue;
Quick mounts the blood up to my swarthy Cheeks:
Tho' not perceiv'd, the Oven glows within.
Emp.
Your word's a noble Warrant, If Rome or I
Can Merit his, or these two Young Princes Loves;
Their greatness knows no bounds but their desires:
And now Ascend fair Queen, Panthean Lords accompany
Your Emperour and his Royal Bride,
Whose Wisdome hath her fortune conquer'd.
Assistant be to see the Rites perform'd,
By heaven she was sent to bless my Reign,
Captive she came, but beauty broke her Chain.
[Exeunt, As to the Altar.
Titus.
I am not bid to attend these Ceremonies,
Titus when wer't thou wont to walk alone.
Dishonour'd thus and challenged of wrongs.
Enter Marcus, Lucius, Martius, Quintus, Mutius Born in Dead.
Marcus.
O Titus see, see here what thou hast done,
In a bad quarrell slain a Virtuous Son.
Titus.
No foolish Tribune, no; No Son of mine,
Nor thou nor these confederate in the Deed,
That hath dishonour'd all our Family,
Unworthy Brother and unworthy Sons.
Lucius.
But let me give him Buriall as becomes,
Give Mutius buriall with our Brothers.
Titus.
Traytors away, he rests not in this Tomb;
This Monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously re-edify'd:
Here none but Souldiers and Romes Servitors
Repose in Fame, None basely slain in brauls,
Bury him where you can, he comes not here.
Marcus.
This is impiety in you.
And Mutius deeds do strongly plead for him,
He must be bury'd with his Brothers.
Quintus.
And shall, or him we will accompany.
Titus.
And shall: what Villain was it spoke that word?
12
He that wou'd vouch it 'gainst any man but you.
Titus.
What wou'd you bury him in spight of me?
Marcus.
No, Noble Titus, but entreat of thee,
To pardon Mutius, and to bury him.
Titus.
Marcus, even thou hast strook upon my Crest,
And with these Boys my Honour thou hast wounded;
My Foes I do repute you every one,
So trouble me no more but hence—
Quintus.
Not I, 'till Mutius Bones be Bury'd.
[Marcus and the Sons all kneel.
Marcus.
Brother, for in that name doth Nature plead,
Lucius.
Father, and in that name doth Nature speak.
Titus.
Speak thou no more if all the rest will speed.
Marcus.
Renowned Titus, more then half my soul,
Lucius.
Dear Father, soul and substance of us all.
Marcus.
Suffer thy Brother Marcus to Interr
His Noble Nephew here in Virtues Cell,
That dy'd 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 piously plead for his Funeralls:
Let not young Mutius then that was thy Joy,
Be barr'd his entrance here.
Titus.
Rise Marcus, rise,
The dismal'st day is this that e're I saw,
To be dishonour'd by my Sons in Rome;
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
[they put him in the Vault.
Lucius.
There lye thy Bones, dear Mutius, with thy Friends,
'Till we with Trophees do adorn thy Tomb.
Marcus.
No man shed tears for Noble Mutius,
He lives in Fame that dy'd in Virtues cause.
Martius.
Mutius is bury'd and our griefs are eas'd:
Quintus.
The Emperour and his haughty Bride return.
Enter the Emperour, Tamora, Chiron, Demetrius, and Aron, at one door. Bassianus, Lavinia at the other, Sons with Attendants.
Emp.
So Bassianus!
You that so lately play'd the Gladiator—
Give you Joy Sir of your Gallant Bride.
Bassi.
The like to Saturnine and his, I say no more
13
Emp.
Traytor, if Rome have Law, or we have Power,
Thou and thy Faction shall repent this Rape.
Bassi.
Rape call you it to seize my own, ye Gods
My true betrothed Love, and now my Wife:
But let the Laws of Rome determine all,
Mean while am I possest of what is mine.
Emp.
You are, but look to answer the Affront.
Bassi.
Answer I must and shall do with my life,
Only thus much I wish thee understand;
By all the Duties that I owe to Rome,
This Noble Gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,
That in the Rescue of Lavinia
With his own hand did slay his youngest Son,
In Zeal to you and highly mov'd to wrath,
To be controul'd in that he frankly gave:
Receive him then to favour, Emperour,
That hath in all his deeds exprest himself
A Father and a Friend to thee and Rome.
Tamora.
If Tamora be gracious in your eyes
Then hear me speak indifferently for all;
And at my request pardon what is past.
Emp.
Be dishonour'd openly—
And basely put it up without Revenge!
Tamora.
Not so my Lord, the Gods of Rome defend,
I shou'd be Author to dishonour you;
But on my Honour dare I undertake,
For good Lord Titus innocence in all;
Whose Fury not dissembl'd speaks his Grief:
Then at my Sute look friendly on his Age,
Lose not so Noble a Friend on vain suppose,
See those gray hairs, behold the good old man;
Trust me my Lord he's innocent.
Bassi.
Subtle Empress! insinuating Goth!
Moor.
Hearken to this Counsel with attention,
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents,
You are but newly stept into your Throne,
Lest then the People and Patricians too
Upon a Just survey take Titus part,
(You know he has a plausible pretence,
He kill'd his Son, by him the Traytor fell)
And so supplant you for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous Crime.
14
What says the Moor?
Moor.
I say young Lord, Titus is innocent.
Tamora.
Innocent, where he shou'd play the Villain:
[aside.
Yield at Intreatice, and let me alone,
I'le watch a day that's fitted for Revenge,
And race their Faction and their Family.
The Cruell Father and his Trayterous Sons
To whom I once su'd for my dear Sons Life.
I'le make 'em know what 'tis to let a Queen
Kneel in the streets to beg for grace in Vain.
Look there my Lord, behold the good Andronicus!
Take up the dear Old man and cheer his Heart
That sinks in Tempest of your angry frown.
Bassia.
Feign'd as I Live!
Abstract of Woman and of Devil.
Emp.
Rise, Titus, Rise, my Empress has prevail'd.
Titus.
I thank you Sir, Most heartily I do,
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 Emperour for his good.
This day all Quarrells dye, Andronicus.
And let it be my honour, good my Lord,
That I have reconcil'd your Friends and you.
For you Prince Bassianus I have pass'd
My word and promise to the Emperour,
That you will be more mild and temperate:
And fear not Lords, and you Lavinia,
By my advice all humbled on your Knees,
You shall ask pardon of the Emperour.
Bassia.
Kneel, Kneel, Learn to dissemble all,
You have a Woman for your Instructor.
Martius.
We Kneel, and vow to Heaven and the Emperour,
That what we did was most sincerely meant,
Tending our Sisters Honour and our own.
Quintus.
That, that was all the ill we meant.
Marcus.
Here on my Honour I protest
They had no other Aim.
Bassia.
See the good Tribune Marcus too
Has taken the Scent, and Bows amongst the crow'd.
Emp.
Marcus, for thy sake and thy Brothers too,
I do remit their fault,
Stand up Lavinia, thou shalt be my guest,
With all thy Friends, Bassianus not excepted,
15
But first impart a Smile to Bassianus,
His looks are still contracted.
Come Tamora, this is a day of Triumph,
All Pleasures of the Banii shall delight thee,
Where every Sense is exquisitely touch'd,
Pleasures that not the World affords,
And yet is only known to Roman Lords.
[Emp. Tam. &c. Exeunt.
Aron Alone.
Aron.
Now climeth Tamora Olimpus top,
Safe out of Fortunes shot, and sits on high,
[aloft.
Secure of Thunder-crack, or Lightning-flash,
Advanced above pale Envies threatning reach.
Upon her Wit doth Earthly honour wait,
And Virtue stoops and trembles at her frown,
Then Aron, Arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
To mount aloft with thy Imperial Mistress.
And rise her pitch; whom thou in Triumph long,
Hast Prisoner held, fetter'd in Amorous chains,
And faster bound to Arons Charming Eyes
Then is Prometheus ty'd to Caucasus.
Hence abject thoughts that I am black and foul,
And all the Taunts of Whites that call me Fiend,
I still am Lovely in an Empress Eyes,
Lifted on high in Power, I'le hang above
Like a black threatning Cloud o're all their heads
That dare look up to me with Envious Eyes.
Hollo, what Storm is this?
Enter Chiron, Demetrius, braving one another.
Demet.
Chiron, thy years want Wit, thy wit wants edge,
And manners to intrude where I am grac'd.
Chiron.
Demetrius, thou presumest still in all,
And so in this to bear me off with Braves,
'Tis not the difference of a year or two,
Can render me less acceptable, or thee
More fortunate, I am as fit as thou
To serve and to deserve a Mistress favour,
And that my Sword shall instantly Maintain,
And plead my Passion for Lavinia.
16
Are you so desperate grown?
Chiron.
Thou shalt perceive how much I dare.
Demet.
Boy—
Chiron.
Coward—
Demet.
Do.—
Chi.
More then thou darest.
Demet.
Because I am thy Elder.
Chiron.
Because you want Courage.
Dem.
No, cause thou want'st wit.
Chi.
I could tear my flesh.
Dem.
And I Laugh at thy Madness.
Chi.
No more, no more—
Dem.
Then thus—
[Offers to draw.
Aron.
What mean you Princes?
So near the Emperours Pallace dare you draw?
And maintain such a Quarrell openly,
I have heard all the ground of this Debate;
I would not for all Tagus golden shore
The cause were known to them it most concerns,
Nor wou'd the Empress for much more then that,
Be so dishonour'd in the Court of Rome.
For shame put up.
Demet.
Not I, 'till that tongue lye breathless in his mouth
That utter'd those reproachfull words.
Chiron.
For that I am prepar'd, and full resolv'd.
Dead-hearted man that thunder'st with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.
Moor.
Now by the Gods that Warlike Goths adore,
This petty brabble will undo us all.
What, think you not how dangerous it is,
To make Invasion on a Princes right?
What, is Lavinia then become so loose?
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her Love such Quarrells may be broacht,
Without controlment, Justice, or Revenge?
Princes beware, for should the Empress know
This discords ground, the Musick would not please.
Chiron.
I care not I, knew she and all the World,
I Love Lavinia more then all the World.
Demet.
Hereafter Learn to make some other choice,
Lavinia is thy Elder Brothers hope.
Aron.
Why are you Mad, or know you 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.
17
A thousand Deaths wou'd I propose
To gain her whom I Love—
Aron.
To gain her, how?
Dem.
Why mak'st thou it so strange!
She is a woman, therefore may be courted,
She is a woman, therefore may be won,
She is Lavinia therefore must be Lov'd.
Chiron.
What tho' Bassianus be the Emperours Brother.
Must she therefore be proof 'gainst powerfull Love?
Aron.
Take this of me, Lucrece was not more chast,
Then this Lavinia, Bassianus Bride.
Chi.
But yet I'le not despair—
Aron.
How stand your Eager appetites affected?
Wou'd each have her all, all to himself,
And not allow the other to breakfast with him?
Dem.
So I were Satisfy'd.—
Chi.
And my desires obtain'd.
Aron.
You intend her then but for a running-Banquet,
A snatch or so, to feed like men that go a hunting.
Dem.
We can hope no more while Bassianus lives.
Aron.
Whilst he Lives you cannot hope that—
Chiron.
Wou'd he were dead then.
Aron.
Wou'd any of you had courage to see it done.
Dem.
I have—
Chir.
And I—
Aron.
Why arm you then your hands 'gainst one another?
Chi.
I vow his death—
Dem.
And so do I.
Aron.
Ay, now the work is likely to go forward;
Be friends and joyn to compass the Main End.
'Tis pollicy and Stratagem must do,
That which you cannot as you wou'd obtain,
You must per-force accomplish as you may.
Dem.
But when he's dead we are not sure she'l yield—
Chir.
At least not to us both.
Aron.
How poorly Skill'd in matters of this Nature;
Ravish her and make no more ado on't.
I'le give you a sudden hint both how and where
This matter may be brought about.
The Emperour at his Banii holds his Court,
The Gardens Round, are Large, Miles in Diameter,
Many close walks there are, and private Groves,
Grottoes, and on the more Remoter parts
Dark Caves and Vaults, where water crusted Lyes
18
As Christallin; And firm as when
'Twas taken from the Winters frost; and Snow
As white and Crisp as when at first it fell
From the cold Regions of the air.
There where these things are thus preserv'd,
To cool the hot Pallets of thirsty Romans,
Quench you the boyling feavors of your bloods,
And Bath your Limbs in fair Lavinia's Snow,
'Till all your Lust like that does melt away,
When to the Sun Expos'd.
Chir.
How fair a prospect do you give my hopes?
Dem.
Methinks in every walk I see
Some Lovely Roman Lady wandring now;
And now the fair Lavinia I behold,
Led by Bassianus to some distant place
Of close Retirement that none may hear
Their Amorous talk, a place fitted for Rape,
And every sin that Privacy Exacts.
Aron.
This way or not at all stand you in hope;
Come, now our Empress with her Sacred wit
To Vengeance Consecrate,
Will we acquaint with all that we intend,
And she shall file our Engines with advice,
That will not Suffer you to Err—
The Emperours Court is like the house of Fame,
The Pallace full of Tongues, of Eyes and Ears,
The Groves are gloomie, deaf and silent—
There speak and strike shaded from humane Eye,
And ransack fair Lavinia's treasury.
Chi.
Brave Moor!
Demet.
Excellent Moor.
[Exeunt.
| Titus Andronicus, or The Rape of Lavinia | |