Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

Out of this fell devouring receptacle,

As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.

Quin. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; Or, wanting strength to do thee fo much good,

I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Baffianus' grave.

I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.

Mart. Nor I no ftrength to climb without thy help. Quin. Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, Till thou art here aloft, or I below:

Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee.

Enter SATURNINUS and AARON.

[Falls in.

Sat. Along with me :—I'll see what hole is here,
And what he is, that now is leap'd into it.—
Say, who art thou, that lately didft defcend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

Mart. The unhappy son of old Andronicus;
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,

To find thy brother Baffianus dead.

Sat. My brother dead? I know, thou doft but jeft: He and his lady both are at the lodge,

Upon the north fide of this pleasant chase;

'Tis not an hour fince I left him there.

Mart. We know not where you left him all alive,

But, out alas! here have we found him dead.

Enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and LUCIUS.

Tam. Where is my lord, the king?

Sat. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.
Tam. Where is thy brother Baffianus ?
D

Sat.

Sat. Now to the bottom doft thou fearch my wound; Poor Baffianus here lies murdered.

Tam. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,

The complot of this timeless tragedy;

[Giving a letter.

And wonder greatly, that man's face can fold
In pleafing fimiles fuch murderous tyranny.

Sat. [Reads.] An if we miss to meet him handsomely,Sweet buntfman, Baffianus 'tis, we mean,

Do thou fo much as dig the grave for him;

Thou know'ft our meaning: Look for thy reward
Among the netales at the elder tree,

Which overshades the mouth of that same pit,
Where we decreed to bury Baffianus.
Do this, and purchase us tby lafting friends.
O, Tamora! was ever heard the like?
This is the pit, and this the elder-tree :
Look, firs, if you can find the huntsman out,
That should have murder'd Baffianus here.

Aar. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.

[Showing it. Sat. Two of thy whelps, [To TIT.] fell curs of bloody

kind,

:

Have here bereft my brother of his life :-
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prifon;
There let them bide, until we have devis'd
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

Tam. What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing ! How eafily murder is discovered!

Tit. High emperor, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon, with tears nor lightly shed, That this fell fault of my accursed fons, Accurfed, if the fault be prov'd in them,

Sat.

Sat. If it be prov'd! you fee, it is apparent.-
Who found this letter? amora, was it you?
Tam. Andronicus himself did take it up.
Tit. I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail:
For by my father's reverend tomb, I vow,
They fhall be ready at your highness' will,
To answer their suspicion with their lives.

Sat. Thou shalt not bail them; fee, thou follow me.
Some bring the murder'd body, fome the murderers:
Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain;
For, by my foul, were there worse end than death,
That end upon them should be executed.

Tam. Andronicus, I will entreat the king;

Fear not thy fons, they shall do well enough.

Tit. Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them.

[Exeunt feverally.

SCENE V.

The fame.

Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, with LAVINIA, ravish'd; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

Dem. So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, Who 'twas that cut thy tongue, and ravish'd thee. Chi. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning fo; And, if thy ftumps will let thee, play the scribe.

Dem. See, how with signs and tokens she can scowl. Chi. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. Dem. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; And fo let's leave her to her filent walks.

Chi. An 'twere my cafe, I should go hang myself.

[blocks in formation]

Dem. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.

[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON.

Enter MARCUS.

Mar. Who's this,-my niece, that flies away so fast? Coufin, a word; Where is your husband ?—

If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, fome planet strike me down,
That I may flumber in eternal sleep!-

Speak, gentle niece, what ftern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
Of her two branches? thofe fweet ornaments,

Whofe circling fhadows kings have fought to sleep in ;
And might not gain fo great a happiness,

As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?—
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,

Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rife and fall between thy rofed lips,

Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, fure, fome Tereus hath defloured thee;
And, left thou should't detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
And, notwithstanding all this lofs of blood,-
As from a conduit with three iffuing spouts,-
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blushing to be encounter'd with a cloud.
Shall I fpeak for thee? fhall I fay, 'tis fo?
O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, the but loft her tongue,
And in a tedious fampler few'd her mind :

But,

But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;

A craftier Tereus haft thou met withal,
And he hath cut thofe pretty fingers off,
That could have better few'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like afpen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the filken ftrings delight to kiss them
He would not then have touch'd them for his life:
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made,

He would have dropp`d his knife, and fell asleep,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
For fuch a fight will blind a father's eye:
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee;
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

[Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »