Titus Page #4

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,

will we acquaint with

all that we intend.

He that had wit

would think that I had none...

to bury so much gold

under a tree,

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.

My lovely Aaron,

wherefore lookst thou sad...

when everything doth

make a gleeful boast?

The birds chant melody

on every bush.

The snake lies rolled...

in the cheerful sun.

The green leaves quiver

with the cooling wind.

Under their sweet shade,

Aaron, let us sit.

And after conflict, 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.

Madam, though Venus

govern your desires,

Saturn is dominator over mine.

What signifies

my deadly standing eye,

my silence,

and my cloudy melancholy?

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.

Hmm.

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?

Take it up, I pray thee, and give

the king this fatal-plotted scroll.

Question me no more.

We are espied.

Ah, my sweet Moor,

sweeter to me than life!

No more, great empress.

Bassianus comes.

Now, be cross with him,

and I'll go fetch thy sons

to back thy quarrels,

whatsoe'er they be.

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?

Saucy controller

of our private steps!

Had I the power

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!

Under your patience,

gentle empress.

'Tis thought you have

a goodly gift in homing...

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.

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?

And, being

intercepted in your sport,

great reason that my noble lord

be rated for sauciness.

I pray you, let us hence,

and let her 'joy

her raven-colored love.

This valley fits the purpose

passing well.

The king my brother

shall have notice of this.

Good king, to be

so mightily abused.

Why have I patience

to endure all this?

Yah!

How now, dear sovereign

and our gracious mother!

Why doth your

highness look so pale and wan?

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.

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,

10,000 swelling toads-

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-

Then straight they told me

they would bind me here...

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 henceforth

called my children!

This is a witness

that I am thy son.

And this for me,

struck home to show my strength.

Ay.

Come, Semiramis!

Nay, barbarous Tamora,

for no name fits thy nature

but thy own!

Give me the poniard. Your mother's

hand shall right your mother's wrong.

Stay, madam.

Here is more belongs to her.

First thrash the corn,

then after burn the straw.

This minion stood upon

her chastity,

upon her nuptial vow,

her loyalty,

and with that painted hope

she braves your mightiness.

And shall she carry this

unto her grave?

And if she do,

I would I were a eunuch.

Drag hence her husband

to some secret hole...

and make his dead trunk

pillow to our lust.

But when ye have

the honey ye desire,

let not this wasp

outlive us all to sting.

I warrant you, madam,

we will make that sure.

Come, mistress.

Now perforce we will enjoy...

that nice preserved

honesty of yours.

O Tamora, thou bearest

a woman's face-

I will not hear her speak.

Away with her.

Sweet lords, entreat her

hear me but a word.

Oh, 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.

When did the tiger's young ones

teach the dam?

Ahh.

Do not learn her wrath.

She taught it thee?

The milk thou suckst from

her did turn to marble.

Yet every mother

breeds not sons alike.

Do thou entreat her

show a woman's pity.

What, wouldst thou have me

prove myself a bastard?

Oh, be to me, though

thy hard heart say no,

nothing so kind,

but something pitiful!

I know not what it means.

Away with her.

Let me teach thee!

For my father's sake

that gave thee life...

when well he might

have slain thee!

Hadst thou in person

never 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.

Use her as you will.

The worse to her,

the better loved of me.

Tamora, be called

a gentle queen,

and with thine own hands

kill me in this place!

And tumble me into

some loathsome pit...

where never man's eye

may behold my body.

Do this, and be

a charitable murderer.

So should I rob

my sweet sons of their fee?

No.

Let them satisfy

their lust on thee.

Away! For thou hast

stayed us here too long.

No grace? No womanhood?

Beastly creature!

Confusion fall!

Nay! I'll stop your mouth!

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.

Come on, my lords,

the better foot before.

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