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51 Cards in this Set

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TITUS ANDRONICUS: How many sons of mine hast thou in store,That thou wilt never render to me more!

Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,Before this earthy prison of their bones;That so the shadows be not unappeased,Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain Religiously they ask a sacrifice:To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,To


appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

Away with him! and make a fire straight;And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.

DEMETRIUS: When Goths were Goths and


Tamora was queen--To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

See, lord and father, how we have perform'd Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.

SATURNINUS: Romans, do me right: Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell,Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!

Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good That


noble-minded Titus means to thee!

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: 'Suum cuique' is our


Roman justice: This prince in justice seizeth but his own.

And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.

MUTIUS: Help, Lucius, help!

My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;My sons would never so dishonour me:Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.

Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,That is


another's lawful promised love.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed That hath dishonour'd all our family; Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!

But let us give him burial, as becomes; Give


Mutius burial with our brethren.

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,--

Dear father, soul and substance of us all,--

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Rise, Marcus, rise.


The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,


To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!


Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

TAMORA: By my advice, all humbled on your knees,You shall ask pardon of his majesty.

We do, and vow to heaven and to his


highness, That what we did was mildly as we might,Tendering our sister's honour and our own.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death;And let me say, that never wept before,My tears are now prevailing orators.

O noble father, you lament in vain: The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; And you recount your sorrows to a stone.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,--

My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?

To rescue my two brothers from their death: For which attempt the judges have pronouncedMy everlasting doom of banishment.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Why, Marcus, so she is.

Ay me, this object kills me!

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Now all the service I require of them Is that the one will help to cut the


other.'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.

Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: O, that delightful engine of her thoughts That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage,Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed?

TITUS ANDRONICUS: What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,Plot some deuce of further misery,To make us wonder'd at in time to come.

Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own.

Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! Did ever raven sing so like a lark,That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine,That hath thrown down so many enemies,Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn:My youth can better spare my blood than you;And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: My hand shall go.

By heaven, it shall not go!

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.

Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,Let me redeem my brothers both from death.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Agree between you; I will spare my hand.

Then I'll go fetch an axe.

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily,And be my heart an ever-burning hell! These miseries are more than may be borne.To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal;But sorrow flouted at is double death.

Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,And yet detested life not shrink thereat! That ever death should let life bear his name,Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!

TITUS ANDRONICUS: Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:And, if you love me, as I think you do,Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.

Farewell Andronicus, my noble father,


The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome:Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,He leaves his pledges dearer than his life:Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister; O, would thou wert as thou to fore hast been! But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs.If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs; And make proud Saturnine and his empress Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.Now will I to the Goths, and raise a


power,To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.

TAMORA: 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.


SATURNINUS: Then go successantly, and plead to him.

Approved warriors, and my faithful friends,I have received letters from great Rome,Which signify what hate they bear their emperor And how


desirous of our sight they are.Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,Imperious and


impatient of your wrongs,And wherein Rome hath done you any scath,Let him make treble


satisfaction.

GOTHS: And as he saith, so say we all with him.

I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?

SECOND GOTH: With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither,To use as you think needful of the man.

O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye, And here's the base fruit of his burning lust. Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey This growing image of thy fiend-like face? Why dost not speak? what, deaf? not a word?


A halter, soldiers! hang him on this tree.And by his side his fruit of bastardy.

AARON: Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.

Too like the sire for ever being good.First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl; A sight to vex the father's soul withal.Get me a ladder.

AARON: Lucius, save the child, And bear it from me to the empress.If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things,That highly may advantage thee to hear:If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,I'll speak no more but 'Vengeance rot you all!'

Say on: an if it please me which thou speak'st Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.

AARON: An if it please thee! why, assure thee,


Lucius,'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;For I must talk of murders, rapes and


massacres,Acts of black night, abominable deeds,Complots of mischief, treason, villanie


Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:And this shall all be buried by my death,Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.

Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live.

AARON: Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.

Who should I swear by? thou believest no god: That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?

AARON: By that same god, what god soe'er it be, That thou adorest and hast in reverence,To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up; Or else I will discover nought to thee.

Even by my god I swear to thee I will.

AARON: First know thou, I begot him on the


empress.

O most insatiate and luxurious woman!

AARON: Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of


charity To that which thou shalt hear of me anon. 'Twas her two sons that murder'd Bassianus; They cut thy sister's tongue and ravish'd her And cut her hands and trimm'd her as thou saw'st.

O detestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?

AARON: Why, she was wash'd and cut and trimm'd, and 'twas Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.

O barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!

AARON: Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.

Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?

AARON: Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things As willingly as one would kill a fly,And nothing grieves me heartily indeed


But that I cannot do ten thousand more.

Bring down the devil; for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently.

AARON: If there be devils, would I were a devil,To live and burn in everlasting fire,So I might have your company in hell,But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.

THIRD GOTH: My lord, there is a messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence.

Let him come near.


Welcome, Aemilius what's the news from Rome?

FIRST GOTH: What says our general?

Aemilius, let the emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,And we will come. March away.

TITUS ANDRONICUS: So, now bring them in, for I'll play the cook,And see them ready 'gainst their mother comes.

Uncle Marcus, since it is my father's mind That I repair to Rome, I am content.

FIRST GOTH: And ours with thine,


befall what fortune will.

Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;


Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him Till he be brought unto the empress' face,For testimony of her foul proceedings:And see the ambush of our friends be strong;I fear the emperor means no good to us.

AARON: Some devil whisper curses in mine ear,And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my swelling heart!

Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.


Exeunt Goths, with AARON.


Flourish within The trumpets show the emperor is at hand.

SATURNINUS: What, hath the firmament more suns than one?

What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?

SATURNINUS: Die, frantic wretch, for this


accursed deed!

Can the son's eye behold his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!

MARCUS: Here is a captain, let him tell the tale;Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.

Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,That cursed Chiron and Demetrius Were they that murdered our emperor's brother;And they it were that ravished our sister:For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;Our father's tears despised, and basely cozen'd Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out,And sent her enemies unto the grave.Lastly, myself unkindly banished,The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,To beg relief among Rome's


enemies: Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears.And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.I am the turned forth, be it known to you,That have preserved her welfare in my blood;And from her bosom took the enemy's point,Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body. Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;My scars can witness, dumb although they are,That my report is just and full of truth. But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.

ALL: Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor!

Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern so,To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe! But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,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 face,The last true duties of thy noble son!

MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:O were the sum of these that I should payCountless and infinite, yet would I pay them!

Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of usTo melt in showers: thy grandsire loved thee well:Many a time he danced thee on his knee,Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow:Many a matter hath he told to thee,Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;In that respect, then, like a loving child,Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,Because kind nature doth require it so:Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.

AEMILIUS: You sad Andronici, have done with woes:Give sentence on this execrable wretch,That hath been breeder of these dire events.

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.

AARON: 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;If one good deed in all my life I did,I do repent it from my very soul.

Some loving friends convey the emperor hence,And give him burial in his father's grave:My father and Lavinia shall forthwith Be closed in our household's monument.As for that heinous tiger, Tamora, No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weeds,No mournful bell shall ring her burial;But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey:Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;And, being so, shall have like want of pity.See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:Then, afterwards, to order well the state,That like events may ne'er it ruinate.