Act IV, Scene iv: Rome. Before the Palace.
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seen | |
| | An emperor in Rome thus overborne, | |
| | Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent | |
| | Of legal justice, us'd in such contempt? | |
| | My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods, | |
| | However these disturbers of our peace | |
| | Buzz in the people's ears, there naught hath pass'd | |
| | But even with law, against the wilful sons | |
| | Of old Andronicus. And what an if | |
| | His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits, | |
| | Shall we be thus afflicted in his freaks, | |
| | His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness? | |
| | And now he writes to heaven for his redress: | |
| | See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury; | |
| | This to Apollo; this to the God of War;— | |
| | Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome! | |
| | What's this but libelling against the senate, | |
| | And blazoning our injustice everywhere? | |
| | A goodly humour, is it not, my lords? | |
| | As who would say, in Rome no justice were. | |
| | But if I live, his feigned ecstasies | |
| | Shall be no shelter to these outrages: | |
| | But he and his shall know that justice lives | |
| | In Saturninus' health; whom, if she sleep, | |
| | He'll so awake as he in fury shall | |
| | Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, | |
| | Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, | |
| | Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age, | |
| | The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons, | |
| | Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd his heart; | |
| | And rather comfort his distressed plight | |
| | Than prosecute the meanest or the best | |
| | For these contempts.—[Aside]Why, thus it shall become | |
| | High-witted Tamora to gloze with all: | |
| | But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick, | |
| | Thy life-blood on't; if Aaron now be wise, | |
| | Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.— | |
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| | How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us? | |
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| | CLOWN
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| | Yes, forsooth, an your mistership be imperial. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor. | |
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| | CLOWN
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| | 'Tis he.—God and Saint Stephen give you good-den; I have | |
| | brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here. | |
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[SATURNINUS reads the letter.]
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Go take him away, and hang him presently. | |
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| | CLOWN
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| | How much money must I have? | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd. | |
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| | CLOWN
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| | Hang'd! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! | |
| | Shall I endure this monstrous villainy? | |
| | I know from whence this same device proceeds: | |
| | May this be borne,—as if his traitorous sons, | |
| | That died by law for murder of our brother, | |
| | Have by my means been butchered wrongfully?— | |
| | Go, drag the villain hither by the hair; | |
| | Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege.— | |
| | For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughter-man; | |
| | Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great, | |
| | In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. | |
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| | What news with thee, Aemilius? | |
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| | AEMILIUS
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| | Arm, my lord! Rome never had more cause! | |
| | The Goths have gather'd head; and with a power | |
| | Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil, | |
| | They hither march amain, under conduct | |
| | Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus; | |
| | Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do | |
| | As much as ever Coriolanus did. | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths? | |
| | These tidings nip me; and I hang the head | |
| | As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms: | |
| | Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach: | |
| | 'Tis he the common people love so much; | |
| | Myself hath often overheard them say,— | |
| | When I have walked like a private man,— | |
| | That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully, | |
| | And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | Why should you fear? is not your city strong? | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius, | |
| | And will revolt from me to succour him. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name. | |
| | Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it? | |
| | The eagle suffers little birds to sing, | |
| | And is not careful what they mean thereby, | |
| | Knowing that with the shadow of his wing | |
| | He can at pleasure stint their melody; | |
| | Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome. | |
| | Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor, | |
| | I will enchant the old Andronicus | |
| | With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous, | |
| | Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep, | |
| | Whenas the one is wounded with the bait, | |
| | The other rotted with delicious feed. | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | But he will not entreat his son for us. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | If Tamora entreat him, then he will: | |
| | For I can smooth and fill his aged ear | |
| | With golden promises that, were his heart | |
| | Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf, | |
| | Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.— | |
| | Go thou before[to AEMILIUS]; be our ambassador: | |
| | Say that the emperor requests a parley | |
| | Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting | |
| | Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus. | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Aemilius, do this message honourably: | |
| | And if he stand on hostage for his safety, | |
| | Bid him demand what pledge will please him best. | |
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| | AEMILIUS
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| | Your bidding shall I do effectually. | |
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| | TAMORA
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| | Now will I to that old Andronicus, | |
| | And temper him with all the art I have, | |
| | To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths. | |
| | And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again, | |
| | And bury all thy fear in my devices. | |
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| | SATURNINUS
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| | Then go successantly, and plead to him. | |
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