Tam. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus ?(101) Tit. 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. Sat. Go fetch them hither to us presently. Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that pie; Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred. [Kills Tamora. Sat. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed! [Kills Titus. Luc. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed! [Kills Saturninus. A great tumult. Lucius, Marc. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome, O, let me teach you how to knit again Cannot induce you to attend my words, Speak, Rome's dear friend [to Lucius]: 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 subtle 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.- VOL. V. Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, But floods of tears will drown my oratory, And break my very utterance, even in the time Here is a captain, let him tell the tale; Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak. Were they that murdered our emperor's brother; For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded; Lastly, myself unkindly banishèd, The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, My scars can witness, dumb although they are, But, soft! methinks I do digress too much, Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me; For when no friends are by, men praise themselves. Marc. Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child,— Of this was Tamora delivered; The issue of an irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes: Damn'd (105) as he is, to witness this is true. Now judge what cause (106) had Titus to revenge These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience, Or more than any living man could bear. Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans? And, from the place where you behold us now, Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down, Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,(107) The common voice do cry it shall be so. (108) Romans. Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal emperor! [To Attendants, who go into the house. And hither hale that misbelieving Moor, To be adjudg'd some direful slaughtering death, LUCIUS, MARCUS, &c. descend. Romans. Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor! 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, [Kissing Titus. These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd (109) face, The last true duties of thy noble son! Marc. 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! Luc. 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; Meet and agreeing with thine infancy; Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring, Friends should associate friends in grief and woe: Boy. O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my heart Re-enter Attendants with AARON. First Rom.(110) You sad Andronici, have done with woes: Give sentence on this execrable wretch, That hath been breeder of these dire events. Luc. 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 offence he dies. This is our doom: Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth. Aar. O, 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: I do repent it from my very soul. Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor hence, And give him burial in his father's grave: My father and Lavinia shall forthwith As for that heinous tiger, Tamora, No funeral rite, nor man in mournful weeds, But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey : |