delays.I’ll dive into the burning lake below,And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars weNo big-boned men framed of the Cyclops’ size;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 godsTo 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: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.Of my word, I have written to effect;There’s not a god left unsolicited.
Marcus Andronicus
Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
Titus Andronicus
Now, masters, draw.
They shoot
O, well said, Lucius!Good boy, in Virgo’s lap; give it Pallas.
Marcus Andronicus
My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
Titus Andronicus
Ha, ha!Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns.
Marcus Andronicus
This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,The Bull, being gall’d, gave Aries such a knockThat 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 chooseBut give them to his master for a present.
Titus Andronicus
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?Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?
Clown
O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.
Titus Andronicus
But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
Clown
Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in all my life.
Titus Andronicus
Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clown
Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
Titus Andronicus
Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
Clown
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.
Marcus Andronicus
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.
Titus Andronicus
Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace?
Clown
Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
Titus Andronicus
Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,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. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?
Clown
Ay, sir.
Titus Andronicus
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.
Clown
I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
Titus Andronicus
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.And when thou hast given it the emperor,Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clown
God be with you, sir; I will.
Titus Andronicus
Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.
Exeunt
S CENE IV. T HE SAME . B EFORE THE PALACE .
Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, Lords, and others; Saturninus with the arrows in his hand that Titus shot
Saturninus
Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seenAn emperor in Rome thus overborne,Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extentOf egal
He gives them the arrows
‘Ad Jovem,’ that’s for you: here, ‘Ad Apollinem:’‘Ad Martem,’ that’s for myself: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.Of my word, I have written to effect;There’s not a god left unsolicited.
Marcus Andronicus
Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
Titus Andronicus
Now, masters, draw.
They shoot
O, well said, Lucius!Good boy, in Virgo’s lap; give it Pallas.
Marcus Andronicus
My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
Titus Andronicus
Ha, ha!Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns.
Marcus Andronicus
This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,The Bull, being gall’d, gave Aries such a knockThat 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 chooseBut give them to his master for a present.
Titus Andronicus
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?Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?
Clown
O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.
Titus Andronicus
But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
Clown
Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in all my life.
Titus Andronicus
Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clown
Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
Titus Andronicus
Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
Clown
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.
Marcus Andronicus
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.
Titus Andronicus
Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace?
Clown
Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
Titus Andronicus
Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,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. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?
Clown
Ay, sir.
Titus Andronicus
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.
Clown
I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
Titus Andronicus
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.And when thou hast given it the emperor,Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clown
God be with you, sir; I will.
Titus Andronicus
Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.
Exeunt
S CENE IV. T HE SAME . B EFORE THE PALACE .
Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Demetrius, Chiron, Lords, and others; Saturninus with the arrows in his hand that Titus shot
Saturninus
Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seenAn emperor in Rome thus overborne,Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extentOf egal
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