Sicin. The very tricke on't
Mene. This is vnlikely,He, and Auffidius can no more attoneThen violent'st Contrariety.Enter Messenger.
Mes. You are sent for to the Senate:A fearefull Army, led by Caius Martius,Associated with Auffidius, RagesVpon our Territories, and haue alreadyO're-borne their way, consum'd with fire, and tookeWhat lay before them.Enter Cominius.
Com. Oh you haue made good worke
Mene. What newes? What newes?Com. You haue holp to rauish your owne daughters, &To melt the Citty Leades vpon your pates,To see your Wiues dishonour'd to your Noses
Mene. What's the newes? What's the newes?Com. Your Temples burned in their Ciment, andYour Franchises, whereon you stood, confin'dInto an Augors boare
Mene. Pray now, your Newes:You haue made faire worke I feare me: pray your newes,If Martius should be ioyn'd with Volceans
Com. If? He is their God, he leads them like a thingMade by some other Deity then Nature,That shapes man Better: and they follow himAgainst vs Brats, with no lesse Confidence,Then Boyes pursuing Summer Butter-flies,Or Butchers killing Flyes
Mene. You haue made good worke,You and your Apron men: you, that stood so muchVpon the voyce of occupation, andThe breath of Garlicke-eaters
Com. Hee'l shake your Rome about your eares
Mene. As Hercules did shake downe Mellow Fruite:You haue made faire worke
Brut. But is this true sir?Com. I, and you'l looke paleBefore you finde it other. All the RegionsDo smilingly Reuolt, and who resistsAre mock'd for valiant Ignorance,And perish constant Fooles: who is't can blame him?Your Enemies and his, finde something in him
Mene. We are all vndone, vnlesseThe Noble man haue mercy
Com. Who shall aske it?The Tribunes cannot doo't for shame; the peopleDeserue such pitty of him, as the WolfeDoe's of the Shepheards: For his best Friends, if theyShould say be good to Rome, they charg'd him, euenAs those should do that had deseru'd his hate,And therein shew'd like Enemies
Me. 'Tis true, if he were putting to my house, the brandThat should consume it, I haue not the faceTo say, beseech you cease. You haue made faire hands,You and your Crafts, you haue crafted faire
Com. You haue broughtA Trembling vpon Rome, such as was neuerS' incapeable of helpe
Tri. Say not, we brought it
Mene. How? Was't we? We lou'd him,But like Beasts, and Cowardly Nobles,Gaue way vnto your Clusters, who did hooteHim out o'th' Citty
Com. But I feareThey'l roare him in againe. Tullus Affidius,The second name of men, obeyes his pointsAs if he were his Officer: Desperation,Is all the Policy, Strength, and DefenceThat Rome can make against them.Enter a Troope of Citizens.
Mene. Heere come the Clusters.And is Auffidius with him? You are theyThat made the Ayre vnwholsome, when you castYour stinking, greasie Caps, in hootingAt Coriolanus Exile. Now he's comming,And not a haire vpon a Souldiers headWhich will not proue a whip: As many CoxcombesAs you threw Caps vp, will he tumble downe,And pay you for your voyces. 'Tis no matter,If he could burne vs all into one coale,We haue deseru'd it
Omnes. Faith, we heare fearfull Newes
1 Cit. For mine owne part, When I said banish him, I said 'twas pitty
2 And so did I
3 And so did I: and to say the truth, so did very many of vs, that we did we did for the best, and though wee willingly consented to his Banishment, yet it was against our will
Com. Y'are goodly things, you Voyces
Mene. You haue made good workeYou and your cry. Shal's to the Capitoll?Com. Oh I, what else?
Exeunt. both.
Sicin. Go Masters get you home, be not dismaid,These are a Side, that would be glad to haueThis true, which they so seeme to feare. Go home,And shew no signe of Feare
1 Cit. The Gods bee good to vs: Come Masters let's home, I euer said we were i'th wrong, when we banish'd him
2 Cit. So did we all. But come, let's home.
Exit Cit.
Bru. I do not like this Newes
Sicin. Nor I
Bru. Let's to the Capitoll: would halfe my wealthWould buy this for a lye
Sicin. Pray let's go.
Exeunt. Tribunes.
Enter Auffidius with his Lieutenant.
Auf. Do they still flye to'th' Roman?Lieu. I do not know what Witchcraft's in him: butYour Soldiers vse him as the Grace 'fore meate,Their talke at Table, and their Thankes at end,And you are darkned in this action Sir,Euen by your owne
Auf. I cannot helpe it now,Vnlesse by vsing meanes I lame the footeOf our designe. He beares himselfe more proudlier,Euen to my person, then I thought he wouldWhen first I did embrace him. Yet his NatureIn that's no Changeling, and I must excuseWhat cannot be amended
Lieu. Yet I wish Sir,(I meane for your particular) you had notIoyn'd in Commission with him: but either haue borneThe action of your selfe, or else to him, had left it soly
Auf. I vnderstand thee well, and be thou sureWhen he shall come to his account, he knowes notWhat I can vrge against him, although it seemesAnd so he thinkes, and is no lesse apparantTo th' vulgar eye, that he beares all things fairely:And shewes good Husbandry for the Volcian State,Fights Dragon-like, and does atcheeue as sooneAs draw his Sword: yet he hath left vndoneThat which shall breake his necke, or hazard mine,When ere we come to our account
Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'l carry Rome?Auf. All places yeelds to him ere he sits downe,And the Nobility of Rome are his:The Senators and Patricians loue him too:The Tribunes are no Soldiers: and their peopleWill be as rash in the repeale, as hastyTo expell him thence. I thinke hee'l be to RomeAs is the Aspray to the Fish, who takes itBy Soueraignty of Nature. First, he wasA Noble seruant to them, but he could notCarry his Honors eeuen: whether 'twas PrideWhich out of dayly Fortune euer taintsThe happy man; whether detect of iudgement,To faile in the disposing of those chancesWhich he was Lord of: or whether Nature,Not to be other then one thing, not moouingFrom th' Caske to th' Cushion: but commanding peaceEuen with the same austerity and garbe,As he controll'd the warre. But one of these(As he hath spices of them all) not all,For I dare so farre free him, made him fear'd,So hated, and so banish'd: but he ha's a MeritTo choake it in the vtt'rance: So our Vertue,Lie in th' interpretation of the time,And power vnto it selfe most commendable,Hath not a Tombe so euident as a ChaireT' extoll what it hath done.One fire driues out one fire; one Naile, one Naile;Rights by rights fouler, strengths by strengths do faile.Come let's away: when Caius Rome is thine,Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Menenius, Cominius, Sicinius, Brutus, the two Tribunes, with others.
Menen. No, ile not go: you heare what he hath saidWhich was sometime his Generall: who loued himIn a most deere particular. He call'd me Father:But what o'that? Go you that banish'd himA Mile before his Tent, fall downe, and kneeThe way into his mercy: Nay, if he coy'dTo heare Cominius speake, Ile keepe at home
Com. He would not seeme to know me
Menen. Do you heare?Com. Yet one time he did call me by my name:I vrg'd our old acquaintance, and the dropsThat we haue bled together. CoriolanusHe would not answer too: Forbad all Names,He was a kinde of Nothing, Titlelesse,Till he had forg'd himselfe a name a'th' fireOf burning Rome
Menen. Why so: you haue made good worke:A paire of Tribunes, that haue wrack'd for Rome,To make Coales cheape: A Noble memory
Com. I minded him, how Royall 'twas to pardonWhen it was lesse expected. He replyedIt was a bare petition of a StateTo one whom they had punish'd
Menen. Very well, could he say lesse
Com. I offered to awaken his regardFor's priuate Friends. His answer to me wasHe could not stay to picke them, in a pileOf noysome musty Chaffe. He said, 'twas follyFor one poore graine or two, to leaue vnburntAnd still to nose th' offence
Menen. For one poore graine or two?I am one of those: his Mother, Wife, his Childe,And this braue Fellow too: we are the Graines,You are the musty Chaffe, and you are smeltAboue the Moone. We must be burnt for you
Sicin. Nay, pray be patient: If you refuse your aydeIn this so neuer-needed helpe, yet do notVpbraid's with our distresse. But sure if youWould be your Countries Pleader, your good tongueMore then the instant Armie we can makeMight stop our Countryman
Mene. No: Ile not meddle
Sicin. Pray you go to him
Mene. What should I do?Bru. Onely make triall what your Loue can do,For Rome, towards Martius
Mene. Well, and say that Martius returne mee,As Cominius is return'd, vnheard: what then?But as a discontented Friend, greefe-shotWith his vnkindnesse. Say't be so?Sicin. Yet your good willMust haue that thankes from Rome, after the measureAs you intended well
Mene. Ile vndertak't:I thinke hee'l heare me. Yet to bite his lip,And humme at good Cominius, much vnhearts mee.He was not taken well, he had not din'd,The Veines vnfill'd, our blood is cold, and thenWe powt vpon the Morning, are vnaptTo giue or to forgiue; but when we haue stufftThese Pipes, and these Conueyances of our bloodWith Wine and Feeding, we haue suppler SoulesThen in our Priest-like Fasts: therefore Ile watch himTill he be dieted to my request,And then Ile set vpon him
Bru. You know the very rode into his kindnesse,And cannot lose your way
Mene. Good faith Ile proue him,Speed how it will. I shall ere long, haue knowledgeOf my successe.Enter.
Com. Hee'l neuer heare him
Sicin. Not
Com. I tell you, he doe's sit in Gold, his eyeRed as 'twould burne Rome: and his IniuryThe Gaoler to his pitty. I kneel'd before him,'Twas very faintly he said Rise: dismist meThus with his speechlesse hand. What he would doHe sent in writing after me: what he would not,Bound with an Oath to yeeld to his conditions:So that all hope is vaine, vnlesse his Noble Mother,And his Wife, who (as I heare) meane to solicite himFor mercy to his Countrey: therefore let's hence,And with our faire intreaties hast them on.
Exeunt.
Enter Menenius to the Watch or Guard.
1.Wat. Stay: whence are you
2.Wat. Stand, and go backe
Me. You guard like men, 'tis well. But by your leaue,I am an Officer of State, & come to speak with Coriolanus1 From whence?Mene. From Rome
I You may not passe, you must returne: our Generallwill no more heare from thence
2 You'l see your Rome embrac'd with fire, beforeYou'l speake with Coriolanus
Mene. Good my Friends,If you haue heard your Generall talke of Rome,And of his Friends there, it is Lots to Blankes,My name hath touch't your eares: it is Menenius
1 Be it so, go back: the vertue of your name,Is not heere passable
Mene. I tell thee Fellow,Thy Generall is my Louer: I haue beeneThe booke of his good Acts, whence men haue readHis Fame vnparalell'd, happely amplified:For I haue euer verified my Friends,(Of whom hee's cheefe) with all the size that verityWould without lapsing suffer: Nay, sometimes,Like to a Bowle vpon a subtle groundI haue tumbled past the throw: and in his praiseHaue (almost) stampt the Leasing. Therefore Fellow,I must haue leaue to passe
1 Faith Sir, if you had told as many lies in his behalfe, as you haue vttered words in your owne, you should not passe heere: no, though it were as vertuous to lye, as to liue chastly. Therefore go backe
Men. Prythee fellow, remember my name is Menenius, alwayes factionary on the party of your Generall
2 Howsoeuer you haue bin his Lier, as you say you haue, I am one that telling true vnder him, must say you cannot passe. Therefore go backe
Mene. Ha's he din'd can'st thou tell? For I would notspeake with him, till after dinner
1 You are a Roman, are you?Mene. I am as thy Generall is
1 Then you should hate Rome, as he do's. Can you, when you haue pusht out your gates, the very Defender of them, and in a violent popular ignorance, giuen your enemy your shield, thinke to front his reuenges with the easie groanes of old women, the Virginall Palms of your daughters, or with the palsied intercession of such a decay'd Dotant as you seeme to be? Can you think to blow out the intended fire, your City is ready to flame in, with such weake breath as this? No, you are deceiu'd, therfore backe to Rome, and prepare for your execution: you are condemn'd, our Generall has sworne you out of repreeue and pardon
Mene. Sirra, if thy Captaine knew I were heere,He would vse me with estimation
1 Come, my Captaine knowes you not
Mene. I meane thy Generall
1 My Generall cares not for you. Back I say, go: least I let forth your halfe pinte of blood. Backe, that's the vtmost of your hauing, backe
Mene. Nay but Fellow, Fellow.Enter Coriolanus with Auffidius.
Corio. What's the matter? Mene. Now you Companion: Ile say an arrant for you: you shall know now that I am in estimation: you shall perceiue, that a Iacke gardant cannot office me from my Son Coriolanus, guesse but my entertainment with him: if thou stand'st not i'th state of hanging, or of some death more long in Spectatorship, and crueller in suffering, behold now presently, and swoond for what's to come vpon thee. The glorious Gods sit in hourely Synod about thy particular prosperity, and loue thee no worse then thy old Father Menenius do's. O my Son, my Son! thou art preparing fire for vs: looke thee, heere's water to quench it. I was hardly moued to come to thee: but beeing assured none but my selfe could moue thee, I haue bene blowne out of your Gates with sighes: and coniure thee to pardon Rome, and thy petitionary Countrimen. The good Gods asswage thy wrath, and turne the dregs of it, vpon this Varlet heere: This, who like a blocke hath denyed my accesse to thee
Corio. Away
Mene. How? Away?Corio. Wife, Mother, Child, I know not. My affairesAre Seruanted to others: Though I oweMy Reuenge properly, my remission liesIn Volcean brests. That we haue beene familiar,Ingrate forgetfulnesse shall poison ratherThen pitty: Note how much, therefore be gone.Mine eares against your suites, are stronger thenYour gates against my force. Yet for I loued thee,Take this along, I writ it for thy sake,And would haue sent it. Another word Menenius,I will not heare thee speake. This man AuffidiusWas my belou'd in Rome: yet thou behold'st
Auffid. You keepe a constant temper.
Exeunt.
Manet the Guard and Menenius.
1 Now sir, is your name Menenius?2 'Tis a spell you see of much power:You know the way home againe
1 Do you heare how wee are shent for keeping your greatnesse backe? 2 What cause do you thinke I haue to swoond? Menen. I neither care for th' world, nor your General: for such things as you. I can scarse thinke ther's any, y'are so slight. He that hath a will to die by himselfe, feares it not from another: Let your Generall do his worst. For you, bee that you are, long; and your misery encrease with your age. I say to you, as I was said to, Away.
Exit
1 A Noble Fellow I warrant him
2 The worthy Fellow is our General. He's the Rock, The Oake not to be winde-shaken.
Exit Watch.
Enter Coriolanus and Auffidius.
Corio. We will before the walls of Rome to morrowSet downe our Hoast. My partner in this Action,You must report to th' Volcian Lords, how plainlyI haue borne this Businesse
Auf. Onely their ends you haue respected,Stopt your eares against the generall suite of Rome:Neuer admitted a priuat whisper, no not with such frendsThat thought them sure of you
Corio. This last old man,Whom with a crack'd heart I haue sent to Rome,Lou'd me, aboue the measure of a Father,Nay godded me indeed. Their latest refugeWas to send him: for whose old Loue I haue(Though I shew'd sowrely to him) once more offer'dThe first Conditions which they did refuse,And cannot now accept, to grace him onely,That thought he could do more: A very littleI haue yeelded too. Fresh Embasses, and Suites,Nor from the State, nor priuate friends heereafterWill I lend eare to. Ha? what shout is this?
Shout within
Shall I be tempted to infringe my vowIn the same time 'tis made? I will not.Enter Virgilia, Volumnia, Valeria, yong Martius, with Attendants.
My wife comes formost, then the honour'd mouldWherein this Trunke was fram'd, and in her handThe Grandchilde to her blood. But out affection,All bond and priuiledge of Nature breake;Let it be Vertuous to be Obstinate.What is that Curt'sie worth? Or those Doues eyes,Which can make Gods forsworne? I melt, and am notOf stronger earth then others: my Mother bowes,As if Olympus to a Mole-hill shouldIn supplication Nod: and my yong BoyHath an Aspect of intercession, whichGreat Nature cries, Deny not. Let the VolcesPlough Rome, and harrow Italy, Ile neuerBe such a Gosling to obey instinct; but standAs if a man were Author of himself, & knew no other kinVirgil. My Lord and Husband
Corio. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome
Virg. The sorrow that deliuers vs thus chang'd,Makes you thinke so
Corio. Like a dull Actor now, I haue forgot my part,And I am out, euen to a full Disgrace. Best of my Flesh,Forgiue my Tyranny: but do not say,For that forgiue our Romanes. O a kisseLong as my Exile, sweet as my Reuenge!Now by the iealous Queene of Heauen, that kisseI carried from thee deare; and my true LippeHath Virgin'd it ere since. You Gods, I pray,And the most noble Mother of the worldLeaue vnsaluted: Sinke my knee i'th' earth,
Kneeles
Of thy deepe duty, more impression shewThen that of common Sonnes
Volum. Oh stand vp blest!Whil'st with no softer Cushion then the FlintI kneele before thee, and vnproperlyShew duty as mistaken, all this while,Betweene the Childe, and Parent
Corio. What's this? your knees to me?To your Corrected Sonne?Then let the Pibbles on the hungry beachFillop the Starres: Then, let the mutinous windesStrike the proud Cedars 'gainst the fiery Sun:Murd'ring Impossibility, to makeWhat cannot be, slight worke
Volum. Thou art my Warriour, I hope to frame theeDo you know this Lady?Corio. The Noble Sister of Publicola;The Moone of Rome: Chaste as the IsicleThat's curdied by the Frost, from purest Snow,And hangs on Dians Temple: Deere Valeria
Volum. This is a poore Epitome of yours,Which by th' interpretation of full time,May shew like all your selfe
Corio. The God of Souldiers:With the consent of supreame Ioue, informeThy thoughts with Noblenesse, that thou mayst proueTo shame vnvulnerable, and sticke i'th WarresLike a great Sea-marke standing euery flaw,And sauing those that eye thee
Volum. Your knee, Sirrah
Corio. That's my braue Boy
Volum. Euen he, your wife, this Ladie, and my selfe,Are Sutors to you
Corio. I beseech you peace:Or if you'ld aske, remember this before;The thing I haue forsworne to graunt, may neuerBe held by you denials. Do not bid meDismisse my Soldiers, or capitulateAgaine, with Romes Mechanickes. Tell me notWherein I seeme vnnaturall: Desire not t' allayMy Rages and Reuenges, with your colder reasons
Volum. Oh no more, no more:You haue said you will not grant vs any thing:For we haue nothing else to aske, but thatWhich you deny already: yet we will aske,That if you faile in our request, the blameMay hang vpon your hardnesse, therefore heare vs
Corio. Auffidius, and you Volces marke, for wee'lHeare nought from Rome in priuate. Your request?Volum. Should we be silent & not speak, our RaimentAnd state of Bodies would bewray what lifeWe haue led since thy Exile. Thinke with thy selfe,How more vnfortunate then all liuing womenAre we come hither; since that thy sight, which shouldMake our eies flow with ioy, harts dance with comforts,Constraines them weepe, and shake with feare & sorow,Making the Mother, wife, and Childe to see,The Sonne, the Husband, and the Father tearingHis Countries Bowels out; and to poore weThine enmities most capitall: Thou barr'st vsOur prayers to the Gods, which is a comfortThat all but we enioy. For how can we?Alas! how can we, for our Country pray?Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory:Whereto we are bound: Alacke, or we must looseThe Countrie our deere Nurse, or else thy personOur comfort in the Country. We must findeAn euident Calamity, though we hadOur wish, which side should win. For either thouMust as a Forraine Recreant be ledWith Manacles through our streets, or elseTriumphantly treade on thy Countries ruine,And beare the Palme, for hauing brauely shedThy Wife and Childrens blood: For my selfe, Sonne,I purpose not to waite on Fortune, tillThese warres determine: If I cannot perswade thee,Rather to shew a Noble grace to both parts,Then seeke the end of one; thou shalt no soonerMarch to assault thy Country, then to treade(Trust too't, thou shalt not) on thy Mothers wombeThat brought thee to this world
Virg. I, and mine, that brought you forth this boy,To keepe your name liuing to time
Boy. A shall not tread on me: Ile run awayTill I am bigger, but then Ile fight
Corio. Not of a womans tendernesse to be,Requires nor Childe, nor womans face to see:I haue sate too long
Volum. Nay, go not from vs thus:If it were so, that our request did tendTo saue the Romanes, thereby to destroyThe Volces whom you serue, you might condemne vsAs poysonous of your Honour. No, our suiteIs that you reconcile them: While the VolcesMay say, this mercy we haue shew'd: the Romanes,This we receiu'd, and each in either sideGiue the All-haile to thee, and cry be BlestFor making vp this peace. Thou know'st (great Sonne)The end of Warres vncertaine: but this certaine,That if thou conquer Rome, the benefitWhich thou shalt thereby reape, is such a nameWhose repetition will be dogg'd with Curses:Whose Chronicle thus writ, The man was Noble,But with his last Attempt, he wip'd it out:Destroy'd his Country, and his name remainesTo th' insuing Age, abhorr'd. Speake to me Son:Thou hast affected the fiue straines of Honor,To imitate the graces of the Gods.To teare with Thunder the wide Cheekes a'th' Ayre,And yet to change thy Sulphure with a BoultThat should but riue an Oake. Why do'st not speake?Think'st thou it Honourable for a NoblemanStill to remember wrongs? Daughter, speake you:He cares not for your weeping. Speake thou Boy,Perhaps thy childishnesse will moue him moreThen can our Reasons. There's no man in the worldMore bound to's Mother, yet heere he let's me prateLike one i'th' Stockes. Thou hast neuer in thy life,Shew'd thy deere Mother any curtesie,When she (poor Hen) fond of no second brood,Ha's clock'd thee to the Warres: and safelie homeLoden with Honor. Say my Request's vniust,And spurne me backe: But, if it be not soThou art not honest, and the Gods will plague theeThat thou restrain'st from me the Duty, whichTo a Mothers part belongs. He turnes away:Down Ladies: let vs shame him with him with our kneesTo his sur-name Coriolanus longs more prideThen pitty to our Prayers. Downe: an end,This is the last. So, we will home to Rome,And dye among our Neighbours: Nay, behold's,This Boy that cannot tell what he would haue,But kneeles, and holds vp hands for fellowship,Doe's reason our Petition with more strengthThen thou hast to deny't. Come, let vs go:This Fellow had a Volcean to his Mother:His Wife is in Corioles, and his ChildeLike him by chance: yet giue vs our dispatch:I am husht vntill our City be afire, & then Ile speak a litle
Holds her by the hand silent.
Corio. O Mother, Mother!What haue you done? Behold, the Heauens do ope,The Gods looke downe, and this vnnaturall SceneThey laugh at. Oh my Mother, Mother: Oh!You haue wonne a happy Victory to Rome.But for your Sonne, beleeue it: Oh beleeue it,Most dangerously you haue with him preuail'd,If not most mortall to him. But let it come:Auffidius, though I cannot make true Warres,Ile frame conuenient peace. Now good Auffidius,Were you in my steed, would you haue heardA Mother lesse? or granted lesse Auffidius?Auf. I was mou'd withall
Corio. I dare be sworne you were:And sir, it is no little thing to makeMine eyes to sweat compassion. But (good sir)What peace you'l make, aduise me: For my part,Ile not to Rome, Ile backe with you, and pray youStand to me in this cause. Oh Mother! Wife!Auf. I am glad thou hast set thy mercy, & thy HonorAt difference in thee: Out of that Ile workeMy selfe a former Fortune
Corio. I by and by; But we will drinke together:And you shall beareA better witnesse backe then words, which weOn like conditions, will haue Counter-seal'd.Come enter with vs: Ladies you deserueTo haue a Temple built you: All the SwordsIn Italy, and her Confederate ArmesCould not haue made this peace.
Exeunt.
Enter Menenius and Sicinius.
Mene. See you yon'd Coin a'th Capitol, yon'd corner stone? Sicin. Why what of that? Mene. If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the Ladies of Rome, especially his Mother, may preuaile with him. But I say, there is no hope in't, our throats are sentenc'd, and stay vppon execution
Sicin. Is't possible, that so short a time can alter the condition of a man
Mene. There is differency between a Grub & a Butterfly, yet your Butterfly was a Grub: this Martius, is growne from Man to Dragon: He has wings, hee's more then a creeping thing
Sicin. He lou'd his Mother deerely
Mene. So did he mee: and he no more remembers his Mother now, then an eight yeare old horse. The tartnesse of his face, sowres ripe Grapes. When he walks, he moues like an Engine, and the ground shrinkes before his Treading. He is able to pierce a Corslet with his eye: Talkes like a knell, and his hum is a Battery. He sits in his State, as a thing made for Alexander. What he bids bee done, is finisht with his bidding. He wants nothing of a God but Eternity, and a Heauen to Throne in
Sicin. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly
Mene. I paint him in the Character. Mark what mercy his Mother shall bring from him: There is no more mercy in him, then there is milke in a male-Tyger, that shall our poore City finde: and all this is long of you
Sicin. The Gods be good vnto vs
Mene. No, in such a case the Gods will not bee good vnto vs. When we banish'd him, we respected not them: and he returning to breake our necks, they respect not vs. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Sir, if you'ld saue your life, flye to your House,The Plebeians haue got your Fellow Tribune,And hale him vp and downe; all swearing, ifThe Romane Ladies bring not comfort homeThey'l giue him death by Inches.Enter another Messenger.
Sicin. What's the Newes?Mess. Good Newes, good newes, the Ladies haue preuayl'd.The Volcians are dislodg'd, and Martius gone:A merrier day did neuer yet greet Rome,No, not th' expulsion of the Tarquins
Sicin. Friend, art thou certaine this is true?Is't most certaine
Mes. As certaine as I know the Sun is fire:Where haue you lurk'd that you make doubt of it:Ne're through an Arch so hurried the blowne Tide,As the recomforted through th' gates. Why harke you:
Trumpets, Hoboyes, Drums beate, altogether.
The Trumpets, Sack-buts, Psalteries, and Fifes,Tabors, and Symboles, and the showting Romans,Make the Sunne dance. Hearke you.
A shout within
Mene. This is good Newes:I will go meete the Ladies. This Volumnia,Is worth of Consuls, Senators, Patricians,A City full: Of Tribunes such as you,A Sea and Land full: you haue pray'd well to day:This Morning, for ten thousand of your throates,I'de not haue giuen a doit. Harke, how they ioy.
Sound still with the Shouts.
Sicin. First, the Gods blesse you for your tydings:Next, accept my thankefulnesse
Mess. Sir, we haue all great cause to giue great thanks
Sicin. They are neere the City
Mes. Almost at point to enter
Sicin. Wee'l meet them, and helpe the ioy.
Exeunt.
Enter two Senators, with Ladies, passing ouer the Stage, with otherLords.
Sena. Behold our Patronnesse, the life of Rome:Call all your Tribes together, praise the Gods,And make triumphant fires, strew Flowers before them:Vnshoot the noise that Banish'd Martius;Repeale him, with the welcome of his Mother:Cry welcome Ladies, welcome
All. Welcome Ladies, welcome.
A Flourish with Drummes & Trumpets.
Enter Tullus Auffidius, with Attendants.
Auf. Go tell the Lords a'th' City, I am heere:Deliuer them this Paper: hauing read it,Bid them repayre to th' Market place, where IEuen in theirs, and in the Commons earesWill vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse:The City Ports by this hath enter'd, andIntends t' appeare before the People, hopingTo purge himselfe with words. Dispatch.Enter 3 or 4 Conspirators of Auffidius Faction.
Most Welcome
1.Con. How is it with our Generall?Auf. Euen so, as with a man by his owne Almes impoyson'd,and with his Charity slaine
2.Con. Most Noble Sir, If you do hold the same intent Wherein you wisht vs parties: Wee'l deliuer you Of your great danger
Auf. Sir, I cannot tell,We must proceed as we do finde the People
3.Con. The People will remaine vncertaine, whil'st 'Twixt you there's difference: but the fall of either Makes the Suruiuor heyre of all
Auf. I know it:And my pretext to strike at him, admitsA good construction. I rais'd him, and I pawn'dMine Honor for his truth: who being so heighten'd,He watered his new Plants with dewes of Flattery,Seducing so my Friends: and to this end,He bow'd his Nature, neuer knowne before,But to be rough, vnswayable, and free
3.Consp. Sir, his stoutnesse When he did stand for Consull, which he lost By lacke of stooping
Auf. That I would haue spoke of:Being banish'd for't, he came vnto my Harth,Presented to my knife his Throat: I tooke him,Made him ioynt-seruant with me: Gaue him wayIn all his owne desires: Nay, let him chooseOut of my Files, his proiects, to accomplishMy best and freshest men, seru'd his designementsIn mine owne person: holpe to reape the FameWhich he did end all his; and tooke some prideTo do my selfe this wrong: Till at the lastI seem'd his Follower, not Partner; andHe wadg'd me with his Countenance, as ifI had bin Mercenary
1.Con. So he did my Lord:The Army marueyl'd at it, and in the last,When he had carried Rome, and that we look'dFor no lesse Spoile, then Glory
Auf. There was it:For which my sinewes shall be stretcht vpon him,At a few drops of Womens rhewme, which areAs cheape as Lies; he sold the Blood and LabourOf our great Action; therefore shall he dye,And Ile renew me in his fall. But hearke.
Drummes and Trumpets sounds, with great showts of the people.
1.Con. Your Natiue Towne you enter'd like a Poste, And had no welcomes home, but he returnes Splitting the Ayre with noyse
2.Con. And patient Fooles, Whose children he hath slaine, their base throats teare With giuing him glory
3.Con. Therefore at your vantage,Ere he expresse himselfe, or moue the peopleWith what he would say, let him feele your Sword:Which we will second, when he lies alongAfter your way. His Tale pronounc'd, shall buryHis Reasons, with his Body
Auf. Say no more. Heere come the Lords,Enter the Lords of the City.
All Lords. You are most welcome home
Auff. I haue not deseru'd it.But worthy Lords, haue you with heede perusedWhat I haue written to you?All. We haue
1.Lord. And greeue to heare't:What faults he made before the last, I thinkeMight haue found easie Fines: But there to endWhere he was to begin, and giue awayThe benefit of our Leuies, answering vsWith our owne charge: making a Treatie, whereThere was a yeelding; this admits no excuse
Auf. He approaches, you shall heare him.Enter Coriolanus marching with Drumme, and Colours. TheCommoners beingwith him.
Corio. Haile Lords, I am return'd your Souldier:No more infected with my Countries loueThen when I parted hence: but still subsistingVnder your great Command. You are to know,That prosperously I haue attempted, andWith bloody passage led your Warres, euen toThe gates of Rome: Our spoiles we haue brought homeDoth more then counterpoize a full third partThe charges of the Action. We haue made peaceWith no lesse Honor to the AntiatesThen shame to th' Romaines. And we heere deliuerSubscrib'd by'th' Consuls, and Patricians,Together with the Seale a'th Senat, whatWe haue compounded on
Auf. Read it not Noble Lords,But tell the Traitor in the highest degreeHe hath abus'd your Powers
Corio. Traitor? How now?Auf. I Traitor, Martius
Corio. Martius?Auf. I Martius, Caius Martius: Do'st thou thinkeIle grace thee with that Robbery, thy stolne nameCoriolanus in Corioles?You Lords and Heads a'th' State, perfidiouslyHe ha's betray'd your businesse, and giuen vpFor certaine drops of Salt, your City Rome:I say your City to his Wife and Mother,Breaking his Oath and Resolution, likeA twist of rotten Silke, neuer admittingCounsaile a'th' warre: But at his Nurses tearesHe whin'd and roar'd away your Victory,That Pages blush'd at him, and men of heartLook'd wond'ring each at others
Corio. Hear'st thou Mars?Auf. Name not the God, thou boy of Teares
Corio. Ha?Aufid. No more
Corio. Measurelesse Lyar, thou hast made my heartToo great for what containes it. Boy? Oh Slaue,Pardon me Lords, 'tis the first time that euerI was forc'd to scoul'd. Your iudgments my graue LordsMust giue this Curre the Lye: and his owne Notion,Who weares my stripes imprest vpon him, thatMust beare my beating to his Graue, shall ioyneTo thrust the Lye vnto him
1 Lord. Peace both, and heare me speake
Corio. Cut me to peeces Volces men and Lads,Staine all your edges on me. Boy, false Hound:If you haue writ your Annales true, 'tis there,That like an Eagle in a Doue-coat, IFlatter'd your Volcians in Corioles.Alone I did it, Boy
Auf. Why Noble Lords,Will you be put in minde of his blinde Fortune,Which was your shame, by this vnholy Braggart?'Fore your owne eyes, and eares?All Consp. Let him dye for't
All People. Teare him to peeces, do it presently:He kill'd my Sonne, my daughter, he kill'd my CosineMarcus, he kill'd my Father
2 Lord. Peace hoe: no outrage, peace:The man is Noble, and his Fame folds inThis Orbe o'th' earth: His last offences to vsShall haue Iudicious hearing. Stand Auffidius,And trouble not the peace
Corio. O that I had him, with six Auffidiusses, or more:His Tribe, to vse my lawfull Sword
Auf. Insolent Villaine
All Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him.
Draw both the Conspirators, and kils Martius, who falles, Auffidius stands on him
Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold
Auf. My Noble Masters, heare me speake
1.Lord. O Tullus
2.Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereatValour will weepe
3.Lord. Tread not vpon him Masters, all be quiet,Put vp your Swords
Auf. My Lords,When you shall know (as in this RageProuok'd by him, you cannot) the great dangerWhich this mans life did owe you, you'l reioyceThat he is thus cut off. Please it your HonoursTo call me to your Senate, Ile deliuerMy selfe your loyall Seruant, or endureYour heauiest Censure
1.Lord. Beare from hence his body,And mourne you for him. Let him be regardedAs the most Noble Coarse, that euer HeraldDid follow to his Vrne
2.Lord. His owne impatience, Takes from Auffidius a great part of blame: Let's make the Best of it
Auf. My Rage is gone,And I am strucke with sorrow. Take him vp:Helpe three a'th' cheefest Souldiers, Ile be one.Beate thou the Drumme that it speake mournfully:Traile your steele Pikes. Though in this City heeHath widdowed and vnchilded many a one,Which to this houre bewaile the Iniury,Yet he shall haue a Noble Memory. Assist.
Exeunt. bearing the Body of Martius. A dead March Sounded.
FINIS. The Tragedy of Coriolanus.
The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Flourish. Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft And then enter Saturninus and his Followers at one doore, and Bassianus and his Followers at the other, with Drum & Colours.
Saturninus. Noble Patricians, Patrons of my right,Defend the iustice of my Cause with Armes.And Countrey-men, my louing Followers,Pleade my Successiue Title with your Swords.I was the first borne Sonne, that was the lastThat wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome:Then let my Fathers Honours liue in me,Nor wrong mine Age with this indignitie
Bassianus. Romaines, Friends, Followers,Fauourers of my Right:If euer Bassianus, Cęsars Sonne,Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome,Keepe then this passage to the Capitoll:And suffer not Dishonour to approachTh' Imperiall Seate to Vertue: consecrateTo Iustice, Continence, and Nobility:But let Desert in pure Election shine;And Romanes, fight for Freedome in your Choice.Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft with the Crowne.
Princes, that striue by Factions, and by Friends,Ambitiously for Rule and Empery:Know, that the people of Rome for whom we standA speciall Party, haue by Common voyceIn Election for the Romane Emperie,Chosen Andronicus, Sur-named Pious,For many good and great deserts to Rome.A Nobler man, a brauer Warriour,Liues not this day within the City Walles.He by the Senate is accited homeFrom weary Warres against the barbarous Gothes,That with his Sonnes (a terror to our Foes)Hath yoak'd a Nation strong, train'd vp in Armes.Ten yeares are spent, since first he vndertookeThis Cause of Rome, and chasticed with ArmesOur Enemies pride. Fiue times he hath return'dBleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant SonnesIn Coffins from the Field.And now at last, laden with Honours Spoyles,Returnes the good Andronicus to Rome,Renowned Titus, flourishing in Armes.Let vs intreat, by Honour of his Name,Whom (worthily) you would haue now succeede,And in the Capitoll and Senates right,Whom you pretend to Honour and Adore,That you withdraw you, and abate your Strength,Dismisse your Followers, and as Suters should,Pleade your Deserts in Peace and Humblenesse
Saturnine. How fayre the Tribune speakes,To calme my thoughts
Bassia. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affieIn thy vprightnesse and Integrity:And so I Loue and Honor thee, and thine,Thy Noble Brother Titus, and his Sonnes,And Her (to whom my thoughts are humbled all)Gracious Lauinia, Romes rich Ornament,That I will heere dismisse my louing Friends:And to my Fortunes, and the Peoples Fauour,Commit my Cause in ballance to be weigh'd.
Exit Souldiours.
Saturnine. Friends, that haue beeneThus forward in my Right,I thanke you all, and heere Dismisse you all,And to the Loue and Fauour of my Countrey,Commit my Selfe, my Person, and the Cause:Rome, be as iust and gracious vnto me,As I am confident and kinde to thee.Open the Gates, and let me in
Bassia. Tribunes, and me, a poore Competitor.
Flourish. They go vp into the Senat house.
Enter a Captaine.
Cap. Romanes make way: the good Andronicus,Patron of Vertue, Romes best Champion,Successefull in the Battailes that he fights,With Honour and with Fortune is return'd,From whence he circumscribed with his Sword,And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.
Sound Drummes and Trumpets. And then enter two of Titus Sonnes; After them, two men bearing a Coffin couered with blacke, then two other Sonnes. After them, Titus Andronicus, and then Tamora the Queene of Gothes, & her two Sonnes Chiron and Demetrius, with Aaron the Moore, and others, as many as can bee: They set downe the Coffin, and Titus speakes.
Andronicus. Haile Rome:Victorious in thy Mourning Weedes:Loe as the Barke that hath discharg'd his fraught,Returnes with precious lading to the Bay,From whence at first she weigh'd her Anchorage:Commeth Andronicus bound with Lawrell bowes,To resalute his Country with his teares,Teares of true ioy for his returne to Rome,Thou great defender of this Capitoll,Stand gracious to the Rites that we intend.Romaines, of fiue and twenty Valiant Sonnes,Halfe of the number that King Priam had,Behold the poore remaines aliue and dead!These that Suruiue, let Rome reward with Loue:These that I bring vnto their latest home,With buriall amongst their Auncestors.Heere Gothes haue giuen me leaue to sheath my Sword:Titus vnkinde, and carelesse of thine owne,Why suffer'st thou thy Sonnes vnburied yet,To houer on the dreadfull shore of Stix?Make way to lay them by their Bretheren.
They open the Tombe.
There greete in silence as the dead are wont,And sleepe in peace, slaine in your Countries warres:O sacred receptacle of my ioyes,Sweet Cell of vertue and Nobilitie,How many Sonnes of mine hast thou in store,That thou wilt neuer render to me more?Luc. Giue vs the proudest prisoner of the Gothes,That we may hew his limbes, and on a pileAd manus fratrum, sacrifice his flesh:Before this earthly prison of their bones,That so the shadowes be not vnappeas'd,Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth
Tit. I giue him you, the Noblest that Suruiues,The eldest Son of this distressed Queene
Tam. Stay Romaine Bretheren, gracious Conqueror,Victorious Titus, rue the teares I shed,A Mothers teares in passion for her sonne:And if thy Sonnes were euer deere to thee,Oh thinke my sonnes to be as deere to mee.Sufficeth not, that we are brought to RomeTo beautifie thy Triumphs, and returneCaptiue to thee, and to thy Romaine yoake,But must my Sonnes be slaughtred in the streetes,For Valiant doings in their Countries cause?O! If to fight for King and Common-weale,Were piety in thine, it is in these:Andronicus, staine not thy Tombe with blood.Wilt thou draw neere the nature of the Gods?Draw neere them then in being mercifull.Sweet mercy is Nobilities true badge,Thrice Noble Titus, spare my first borne sonne
Tit. Patient your selfe Madam, and pardon me.These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes beheldAliue and dead, and for their Bretheren slaine,Religiously they aske a sacrifice:To this your sonne is markt, and die he must,T' appease their groaning shadowes that are gone
Luc. Away with him, and make a fire straight,And with our Swords vpon a pile of wood,Let's hew his limbes till they be cleane consum'd.
Exit Sonnes with Alarbus.
Tamo. O cruell irreligious piety
Chi. Was euer Scythia halfe so barbarous?Dem. Oppose me Scythia to ambitious Rome,Alarbus goes to rest, and we suruiue,To tremble vnder Titus threatning lookes.Then Madam stand resolu'd, but hope withall,The selfe same Gods that arm'd the Queene of TroyWith opportunitie of sharpe reuengeVpon the Thracian Tyrant in his Tent,May fauour Tamora the Queene of Gothes,(When Gothes were Gothes, and Tamora was Queene)To quit the bloody wrongs vpon her foes.Enter the Sonnes of Andronicus againe.
Luci. See Lord and Father, how we haue perform'dOur Romaine rightes, Alarbus limbs are lopt,And intrals feede the sacrifising fire,Whole smoke like incense doth perfume the skie.Remaineth nought but to interre our Brethren,And with low'd Larums welcome them to Rome
Tit. Let it be so, and let AndronicusMake this his latest farewell to their Soules.
Flourish.
Then Sound Trumpets, and lay the Coffins in the Tombe.
In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes,Romes readiest Champions, repose you heere in rest,Secure from worldly chaunces and mishaps:Heere lurks no Treason, heere no enuie swels,Heere grow no damned grudges, heere are no stormes,No noyse, but silence and Eternall sleepe,In peace and Honour rest you heere my Sonnes.Enter Lauinia.
Laui. In peace and Honour, liue Lord Titus long,My Noble Lord and Father, liue in Fame:Loe at this Tombe my tributarie teares,I render for my Bretherens Obsequies:And at thy feete I kneele, with teares of ioyShed on the earth for thy returne to Rome.O blesse me heere with thy victorious hand,Whose Fortune Romes best Citizens applau'd
Ti. Kind Rome,That hast thus louingly reseru'dThe Cordiall of mine age to glad my hart,Lauinia liue, out-liue thy Fathers dayes:And Fames eternall date for vertues praise
Marc. Long liue Lord Titus, my beloued brother,Gracious Triumpher in the eyes of Rome
Tit. Thankes Gentle Tribune,Noble brother Marcus
Mar. And welcome Nephews from succesfull wars,You that suruiue and you that sleepe in Fame:Faire Lords your Fortunes are all alike in all,That in your Countries seruice drew your Swords.But safer Triumph is this Funerall Pompe,That hath aspir'd to Solons Happines,And Triumphs ouer chaunce in honours bed.Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,Whose friend in iustice thou hast euer bene,Send thee by me their Tribune and their trust,This Palliament of white and spotlesse Hue,And name thee in Election for the Empire,With these our late deceased Emperours Sonnes:Be Candidatus then, and put it on,And helpe to set a head on headlesse Rome
Tit. A better head her Glorious body fits,Then his that shakes for age and feeblenesse:What should I don this Robe and trouble you,Be chosen with proclamations to day,To morrow yeeld vp rule, resigne my life,And set abroad new businesse for you all.Rome I haue bene thy Souldier forty yeares,And led my Countries strength successefully,And buried one and twenty Valiant Sonnes,Knighted in Field, slaine manfully in Armes,In right and Seruice of their Noble Countrie:Giue me a staffe of Honour for mine age,But not a Scepter to controule the world,Vpright he held it Lords, that held it last
Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtaine and aske the Emperie
Sat. Proud and ambitious Tribune can'st thou tell?Titus. Patience Prince Saturninus
Sat. Romaines do me right.Patricians draw your Swords, and sheath them notTill Saturninus be Romes Emperour:Andronicus would thou wert shipt to hell,Rather then rob me of the peoples harts
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the goodThat Noble minded Titus meanes to thee
Tit. Content thee Prince, I will restore to theeThe peoples harts, and weane them from themselues
Bass. Andronicus, I do not flatter theeBut Honour thee, and will doe till I die:My Faction if thou strengthen with thy Friend?I will most thankefull be, and thankes to menOf Noble mindes, is Honourable Meede
Tit. People of Rome, and Noble Tribunes heere,I aske your voyces and your Suffrages,Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?Tribunes. To gratifie the good Andronicus,And Gratulate his safe returne to Rome,The people will accept whom he admits
Tit. Tribunes I thanke you, and this sure I make,That you Create your Emperours eldest sonne,Lord Saturnine, whose Vertues will I hope,Reflect on Rome as Tytans Rayes on earth,And ripen Iustice in this Common-weale:Then if you will elect by my aduise,Crowne him, and say: Long liue our Emperour
Mar. An. With Voyces and applause of euery sort,Patricians and Plebeans we CreateLord Saturninus Romes Great Emperour.And say, Long liue our Emperour Saturnine.
A long Flourish till they come downe.
Satu. Titus Andronicus, for thy Fauours done,To vs in our Election this day,I giue thee thankes in part of thy Deserts,And will with Deeds requite thy gentlenesse:And for an Onset Titus to aduanceThy Name, and Honorable Familie,Lauinia will I make my Empresse,Romes Royall Mistris, Mistris of my hartAnd in the Sacred Pathan her espouse:Tell me Andronicus doth this motion please thee?Tit. It doth my worthy Lord, and in this match,I hold me Highly Honoured of your Grace,And heere in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,King and Commander of our Common-weale,The Wide-worlds Emperour, do I Consecrate,My Sword, my Chariot, and my Prisoners,Presents well Worthy Romes Imperiall Lord:Receiue them then, the Tribute that I owe,Mine Honours Ensignes humbled at my feete
Satu. Thankes Noble Titus, Father of my life,How proud I am of thee, and of thy giftsRome shall record, and when I do forgetThe least of these vnspeakable Deserts,Romans forget your Fealtie to me
Tit. Now Madam are you prisoner to an Emperour,To him that for your Honour and your State,Will vse you Nobly and your followers
Satu. A goodly Lady, trust me of the HueThat I would choose, were I to choose a new:Cleere vp Faire Queene that cloudy countenance,Though chance of warreHath wrought this change of cheere,Thou com'st not to be made a scorne in Rome:Princely shall be thy vsage euery way.Rest on my word, and let not discontentDaunt all your hopes: Madam he comforts you,Can make you Greater then the Queene of Gothes?Lauinia you are not displeas'd with this?Lau. Not I my Lord, sith true Nobilitie,Warrants these words in Princely curtesie
Sat. Thankes sweete Lauinia, Romans let vs goe:Ransomlesse heere we set our Prisoners free,Proclaime our Honors Lords with Trumpe and Drum
Bass. Lord Titus by your leaue, this Maid is mine
Tit. How sir? Are you in earnest then my Lord?Bass. I Noble Titus, and resolu'd withall,To doe my selfe this reason, and this right
Marc. Suum cuiquam, is our Romane Iustice,This Prince in Iustice ceazeth but his owne
Luc. And that he will and shall, if Lucius liue
Tit. Traytors auant, where is the Emperours Guarde?Treason my Lord, Lauinia is surpris'd
Sat. Surpris'd, by whom?Bass. By him that iustly mayBeare his Betroth'd, from all the world away
Muti. Brothers helpe to conuey her hence away,And with my Sword Ile keepe this doore safe
Tit. Follow my Lord, and Ile soone bring her backe
Mut. My Lord you passe not heere
Tit. What villaine Boy, bar'st me my way in Rome?Mut. Helpe Lucius helpe. He kils him
Luc. My Lord you are vniust, and more then so,In wrongfull quarrell, you haue slaine your son
Tit. Nor thou, nor he are any sonnes of mine,My sonnes would neuer so dishonour me.Traytor restore Lauinia to the Emperour
Luc. Dead if you will, but not to be his wife,That is anothers lawfull promist Loue.Enter aloft the Emperour with Tamora and her two sonnes, andAaron theMoore.
Empe. No Titus, no, the Emperour needs her not,Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stocke:Ile trust by Leisure him that mocks me once.Thee neuer: nor thy Trayterous haughty sonnes,Confederates all, thus to dishonour me.Was none in Rome to make a staleBut Saturnine? Full well AndronicusAgree these Deeds, with that proud bragge of thine,That said'st, I beg'd the Empire at thy hands
Tit. O monstrous, what reproachfull words are these?Sat. But goe thy wayes, goe giue that changing peece,To him that flourisht for her with his Sword:A Valliant sonne in-law thou shalt enioy:One, fit to bandy with thy lawlesse Sonnes,To ruffle in the Common-wealth of Rome
Tit. These words are Razors to my wounded hart
Sat. And therefore louely Tamora Queene of Gothes,That like the stately Thebe mong'st her NimphsDost ouer-shine the Gallant'st Dames of Rome,If thou be pleas'd with this my sodaine choyse,Behold I choose thee Tamora for my Bride,And will Create thee Empresse of Rome.Speake Queene of Goths dost thou applau'd my choyse?And heere I sweare by all the Romaine Gods,Sith Priest and Holy-water are so neere,And Tapers burne so bright, and euery thingIn readines for Hymeneus stand,I will not resalute the streets of Rome,Or clime my Pallace, till from forth this place,I leade espous'd my Bride along with me
Tamo. And heere in sight of heauen to Rome I sweare,If Saturnine aduance the Queen of Gothes,Shee will a Hand-maid be to his desires,A louing Nurse, a Mother to his youth
Satur. Ascend Faire Queene,Panthean Lords, accompanyYour Noble Emperour and his louely Bride,Sent by the heauens for Prince Saturnine,Whose wisedome hath her Fortune Conquered,There shall we Consummate our Spousall rites.
Exeunt. omnes.
Tit. I am not bid to waite vpon this Bride:Titus when wer't thou wont to walke alone,Dishonoured thus and Challenged of wrongs?Enter Marcus and Titus Sonnes.
Mar. O Titus see! O see what thou hast done!In a bad quarrell, slaine a Vertuous sonne
Tit. No foolish Tribune, no: No sonne of mine,Nor thou, nor these Confedrates in the deed,That hath dishonoured all our Family,Vnworthy brother, and vnworthy Sonnes
Luci. But let vs giue him buriall as becomes:Giue Mutius buriall with our Bretheren
Tit. Traytors away, he rest's not in this Tombe:This Monument fiue hundreth yeares hath stood,Which I haue Sumptuously re-edified.Heere none but Souldiers, and Romes Seruitors,Repose in Fame: None basely slaine in braules,Bury him where you can, he comes not heere
Mar. My Lord this is impiety in you,My Nephew Mutius deeds do plead for him,He must be buried with his bretheren
Titus two Sonnes speakes. And shall, or him we will accompany
Ti. And shall! What villaine was it spake that word?Titus sonne speakes. He that would vouch'd it in any place butheere
Tit. What would you bury him in my despight?Mar. No Noble Titus, but intreat of thee,To pardon Mutius, and to bury him
Tit. Marcus, Euen thou hast stroke vpon my Crest,And with these Boyes mine Honour thou hast wounded,My foes I doe repute you euery one.So trouble me no more, but get you gone
1.Sonne. He is not himselfe, let vs withdraw
2.Sonne. Not I tell Mutius bones be buried.
The Brother and the sonnes kneele.
Mar. Brother, for in that name doth nature plea'd
2.Sonne. Father, and in that name doth nature speake
Tit. Speake thou no more if all the rest will speede
Mar. Renowned Titus more then halfe my soule
Luc. Deare Father, soule and substance of vs all
Mar. Suffer thy brother Marcus to interreHis Noble Nephew heere in vertues nest,That died in Honour and Lauinia's cause.Thou art a Romaine, be not barbarous:The Greekes vpon aduise did bury AiaxThat slew himselfe: And Laertes sonne,Did graciously plead for his Funerals:Let not young Mutius then that was thy ioy,Be bar'd his entrance heere
Tit. Rise Marcus, rise,The dismall'st day is this that ere I saw,To be dishonored by my Sonnes in Rome:Well, bury him, and bury me the next.They put him in the Tombe.
Luc. There lie thy bones sweet Mutius with thy friends.Till we with Trophees do adorne thy Tombe.
They all kneele and say.
No man shed teares for Noble Mutius,He liues in Fame, that di'd in vertues cause.Enter.
Mar. My Lord to step out of these sudden dumps,How comes it that the subtile Queene of Gothes,Is of a sodaine thus aduanc'd in Rome?Ti. I know not Marcus: but I know it is,(Whether by deuise or no) the heauens can tell,Is she not then beholding to the man,That brought her for this high good turne so farre?Yes, and will Nobly him remunerate.
Flourish.
Enter the Emperor, Tamora, and her two sons, with the Moore atone doore.Enter at the other doore Bassianus and Lauinia with others.
Sat. So Bassianus, you haue plaid your prize,God giue you ioy sir of your Gallant Bride
Bass. And you of yours my Lord: I say no more,Nor wish no lesse, and so I take my leaue
Sat. Traytor, if Rome haue law, or we haue power,Thou and thy Faction shall repent this Rape
Bass. Rape call you it my Lord, to cease my owne,My true betrothed Loue, and now my wife?But let the lawes of Rome determine all,Meane while I am possest of that is mine
Sat. 'Tis good sir: you are very short with vs,But if we liue, weele be as sharpe with you
Bass. My Lord, what I haue done as best I may,Answere I must, and shall do with my life,Onely thus much I giue your Grace to know,By all the duties that I owe to Rome,This Noble Gentleman Lord Titus heere,Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,That in the rescue of Lauinia,With his owne hand did slay his youngest Son,In zeale to you, and highly mou'd to wrath.To be controul'd in that he frankly gaue:Receiue him then to fauour Saturnine,That hath expre'st himselfe in all his deeds,A Father and a friend to thee, and Rome
Tit. Prince Bassianus leaue to plead my Deeds,'Tis thou, and those, that haue dishonoured me,Rome and the righteous heauens be my iudge,How I haue lou'd and Honour'd Saturnine
Tam. My worthy Lord if euer Tamora,Were gracious in those Princely eyes of thine,Then heare me speake indifferently for all:And at my sute (sweet) pardon what is past