Shakespeare's First Folio Part 479

2 Lord. Peace hoe: no outrage, peace: The man is n.o.ble, and his Fame folds in This...o...b.. o'th' earth: His last offences to vs Shall 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 n.o.ble Masters, heare me speake

1.Lord. O Tullus

2.Lord. Thou hast done a deed, whereat Valour 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 Rage Prouok'd by him, you cannot) the great danger Which this mans life did owe you, you'l reioyce That he is thus cut off. Please it your Honours To call me to your Senate, Ile deliuer My selfe your loyall Seruant, or endure Your heauiest Censure

1.Lord. Beare from hence his body, And mourne you for him. Let him be regarded As the most n.o.ble Coa.r.s.e, that euer Herald Did 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 hee Hath widdowed and vnchilded many a one, Which to this houre bewaile the Iniury, Yet he shall haue a n.o.ble Memory. a.s.sist.

Exeunt. bearing the Body of Martius. A dead March Sounded.

FINIS. The Tragedy of Coriola.n.u.s.

The Tragedie of t.i.tus Andronicus

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Flourish. Enter the Tribunes and Senators aloft And then enter Saturninus and his Followers at one doore, and Ba.s.sia.n.u.s and his Followers at the other, with Drum & Colours.

Saturninus. n.o.ble Patricians, Patrons of my right, Defend the iustice of my Cause with Armes.

And Countrey-men, my louing Followers, Pleade my Successiue t.i.tle with your Swords.

I was the first borne Sonne, that was the last That wore the Imperiall Diadem of Rome: Then let my Fathers Honours liue in me, Nor wrong mine Age with this indignitie

Ba.s.sia.n.u.s. Romaines, Friends, Followers, Fauourers of my Right: If euer Ba.s.sia.n.u.s, Caesars Sonne, Were gracious in the eyes of Royall Rome, Keepe then this pa.s.sage to the Capitoll: And suffer not Dishonour to approach Th' Imperiall Seate to Vertue: consecrate To Iustice, Continence, and n.o.bility: But let Desert in pure Election s.h.i.+ne; 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 stand A speciall Party, haue by Common voyce In Election for the Romane Emperie, Chosen Andronicus, Sur-named Pious, For many good and great deserts to Rome.

A n.o.bler man, a brauer Warriour, Liues not this day within the City Walles.

He by the Senate is accited home From 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 vndertooke This Cause of Rome, and chasticed with Armes Our Enemies pride. Fiue times he hath return'd Bleeding to Rome, bearing his Valiant Sonnes In Coffins from the Field.

And now at last, laden with Honours Spoyles, Returnes the good Andronicus to Rome, Renowned t.i.tus, flouris.h.i.+ng 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

Ba.s.sia. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affie In thy vprightnesse and Integrity: And so I Loue and Honor thee, and thine, Thy n.o.ble Brother t.i.tus, 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 beene Thus 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

Ba.s.sia. Tribunes, and me, a poore Compet.i.tor.

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 circ.u.mscribed with his Sword, And brought to yoke the Enemies of Rome.

Sound Drummes and Trumpets. And then enter two of t.i.tus Sonnes; After them, two men bearing a Coffin couered with blacke, then two other Sonnes.

After them, t.i.tus 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 t.i.tus 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: t.i.tus vnkinde, and carelesse of thine owne, Why suffer'st thou thy Sonnes vnburied yet, To houer on the dreadfull sh.o.r.e 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 n.o.bilitie, 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 pile Ad ma.n.u.s 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

t.i.t. I giue him you, the n.o.blest that Suruiues, The eldest Son of this distressed Queene

Tam. Stay Romaine Bretheren, gracious Conqueror, Victorious t.i.tus, rue the teares I shed, A Mothers teares in pa.s.sion 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 Rome To beautifie thy Triumphs, and returne Captiue 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 G.o.ds?

Draw neere them then in being mercifull.

Sweet mercy is n.o.bilities true badge, Thrice n.o.ble t.i.tus, spare my first borne sonne

t.i.t. Patient your selfe Madam, and pardon me.

These are the Brethren, whom you Gothes beheld Aliue 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.