The Same. A Public Place. | |
| |
Enter TITUS, bearing arrows, with letters on the ends of them; with him MARCUS, young LUCIUS, PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, CAIUS, and other Gentlemen, with bows. | |
| Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way. | |
| Sir boy, now let me see your archery: | 4 |
| Look ye draw home enough, and ’tis there straight. | |
| Terras Astrœa reliquit: | |
| Be you remember’d, Marcus, she’s gone, she’s fled. | |
| Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall | 8 |
| Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets; | |
| Happily you may find her in the sea; | |
| Yet there’s as little justice as at land. | |
| No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it; | 12 |
| ’Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade, | |
| And pierce the inmost centre of the earth: | |
| Then, when you come to Pluto’s region, | |
| I pray you, deliver him this petition; | 16 |
| Tell him, it is for justice and for aid, | |
| And that it comes from old Andronicus, | |
| Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome. | |
| Ah! Rome. Well, well; I made thee miserable | 20 |
| What time I threw the people’s suffrages | |
| On him that thus doth tyrannize o’er me. | |
| Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all, | |
| And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch’d: | 24 |
| This wicked emperor may have shipp’d her hence; | |
| And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice. | |
| Mar. O Publius! is not this a heavy case, | |
| To see thy noble uncle thus distract? | 28 |
| Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns | |
| By day and night to attend him carefully, | |
| And feed his humour kindly as we may, | |
| Till time beget some careful remedy. | 32 |
| Mar. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy. | |
| Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war | |
| Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude, | |
| And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine. | 36 |
| Tit. Publius, how now! how now, my masters! | |
| What! have you met with her? | |
| Pub. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word, | |
| If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall: | 40 |
| Marry, for Justice, she is so employ’d, | |
| He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else, | |
| So that perforce you must needs stay a time. | |
| Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. | 44 |
| I’ll dive into the burning lake below, | |
| And pull her out of Acheron by the heels. | |
| Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we; | |
| No big-bon’d men fram’d of the Cyclops’ size; | 48 |
| But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back, | |
| Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear: | |
| And sith there’s no justice in earth nor hell, | |
| We will solicit heaven and move the gods | 52 |
| To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs. | |
| Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus. [He gives them the arrows. | |
| Ad Jovem, that’s for you: here, ad Apollinem: | |
| Ad Martem, that’s for myself: | 56 |
| Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury: | |
| To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine; | |
| You were as good to shoot against the wind. | |
| To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid. | 60 |
| Of my word, I have written to effect; | |
| There’s not a god left unsolicited. | |
| Mar. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court: | |
| We will afflict the emperor in his pride. | 64 |
| Tit. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot.] O! well said, Lucius! | |
| Good boy, in Virgo’s lap: give it Pallas. | |
| Mar. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon; | |
| Your letter is with Jupiter by this. | 68 |
| Tit. Ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done? | |
| See, see! thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns. | |
| Mar. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot, | |
| The Bull, being gall’d, gave Aries such a knock | 72 |
| That down fell both the Ram’s horns in the court; | |
| And who should find them but the empress’ villain? | |
| She laugh’d, and told the Moor, he should not choose | |
| But give them to his master for a present. | 76 |
| Tit. Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy! | |
| |
Enter a Clown, with a basket, and two pigeons in it. | |
| News! news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come. | |
| Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters? | 80 |
| Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter? | |
| Clo. O! the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week. | |
| Tit. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee? | |
| Clo. Alas! sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in all my life. | 84 |
| Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? | |
| Clo. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else. | |
| Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven? | |
| Clo. From heaven! alas! sir, I never came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial’s men. | 88 |
| Mar. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the emperor from you. | |
| Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace? | |
| Clo. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life. | |
| Tit. Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado, | 92 |
| But give your pigeons to the emperor: | |
| By me thou shalt have justice at his hands. | |
| Hold, hold; meanwhile, here’s money for thy charges. | |
| Give me pen and ink. | 96 |
| Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication? | |
| Clo. Ay, sir. | |
| Tit. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his foot; then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I’ll be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely. | |
| Clo. I warrant you, sir; let me alone. | 100 |
| Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it. | |
| Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration; | |
| For thou hast made it like a humble suppliant: | |
| And when thou hast given it to the emperor, | 104 |
| Knock at my door, and tell me what he says. | |
| Clo. God be with you, sir; I will. | |
| Tit. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. [Exeunt. | |
