The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1053 page)

please believe that I love my son just as much.

Isn't it enough that we have been brought to Rome

to decorate your triumphant return,

enslaved to you and the orders of Rome?

Do my sons have to be slaughtered in the streets

for their brave efforts on behalf of their country?

Oh, if to fight for your King and country

is a good thing for you and yours, then it is for them as well.

Andronicus, don't stain your tomb with blood.

Do you want to become as godlike as possible?

Then try being as merciful as them.

Sweet mercy is the truest indicator of nobility:

thrice noble Titus, spare my oldest son.

TITUS.

Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

These are their brethren whom your 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

T' appease their groaning shadows that are gone.

Calm yourself, madam, and forgive me.

These are the brothers of those whom your Goths saw

alive and dead, and for their slain brothers

they are asking for a holy sacrifice.

Your son is marked out for this, and he must die

to satisfy the moaning ghosts of the dead.

LUCIUS.

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 consum'd.

Exeunt TITUS' SONS, with ALARBUS

Take him away, and make a fire at once;

and let's hack his limbs with our swords,

on the wooden pyre, until there is nothing left.

TAMORA.

O cruel, irreligious piety!

O cruel, blasphemous piety!

CHIRON.

Was never Scythia half so barbarous!

The Scythians were never half as barbarous!

DEMETRIUS.

Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive

To tremble under Titus' threat'ning look.

Then, madam, stand resolv'd, but hope withal

The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy

With opportunity of sharp revenge

Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent

May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths-

When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-

To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.

Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and

MUTIUS, the sons of ANDRONICUS, with their swords bloody

Don't compare Scythia with the upstart Rome.

Alarbus goes to his rest and we survive

to tremble under the threatening look of Titus.

So, madam, resign yourself, but also hope

that the same gods that gave the Queen of Troy

the opportunity to take quick revenge upon

Polymestor in his tent

may also favour Tamora, the Queen of the Goths

(when the Goths were a people andTamora was queen),

and help her revenge the bloody wrongs of her enemies.

LUCIUS.

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.

See, lord and father, how we have undertaken

our Roman ceremonies: Alarbus' limbs have been chopped off

and his innards are feeding the sacrificial fire,

whose smoke perfumes the sky like incense.

There's nothing left to do but to bury our brothers

and with great trumpet calls welcome them to Rome.

TITUS.

Let it be so, and let Andronicus

Make this his latest farewell to their souls.

[Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb]

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;

Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,

Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!

Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,

Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms,

No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

Let this happen, and let Andronicus

say his last goodbye to their souls.

Rest here in peace and honour, my sons;

Rome's greatest champions, lie here and rest,

safe from fickle fate and accidents.

There is no treason here, no envy,

there are no poisonous plants, there are no storms,

no noise, just silence and eternal sleep:

rest here in peace and honour, my sons.

Enter LAVINIA

LAVINIA.

In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;

My noble lord and father, live in fame!

Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears

I render for my brethren's obsequies;

And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy

Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.

O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,

Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!

May Lord Titus have a long life in peace and honour;

my noble Lord and father, live through your fame!

See, at this tomb I add my own tears

to the funeral rites for my brothers,

and I kneel at your feet with tears of joy

falling on the earth for your return to Rome.

O bless me with your victorious hand,

whose actions are applauded by the greatest citizens of Rome.

TITUS.

Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd

The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!

Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,

And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!

Enter, above, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and TRIBUNES;

re-enter SATURNINUS, BASSIANUS, and attendants

Sweet Rome, you have lovingly kept for me

the nourishment of my old age which gladdens my heart.

Lavinia live, live longer than your father,

live longer than history, because of your great virtue.

MARCUS.

Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!

Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,

the great victor that all Rome can see!

TITUS.

Thanks, gentle Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

Thanks, kind Tribune, noble brother Marcus.

MARCUS.

And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,

You that survive and you that sleep in fame.

Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all

That in your country's service drew your swords;

But safer triumph is this funeral pomp

That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness

And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,

Send thee by me, their Tribune and their trust,

This par]iament of white and spotless hue;

And name thee in election for the empire

With these our late-deceased Emperor's sons:

Be candidatus then, and put it on,

And help to set a head on headless Rome.

And welcome, nephews, back from successful wars,

you survivors and you glorious dead.

Fair lords, you have all followed the same path

in fighting for your country;

but those who have died are more secure

and have found the happiness Solon spoke of,

which is better than the short lived benefits of honour.

Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,

to whom you have always been a fair friend,

have sent you, via me, their Tribune and representative,

this pure white candidate's gown,

and ask you to be a candidate for the Emperorship,

alongside these sons of our recently departed Emperor.

So become a candidate and put it on,

and help to give direction to leaderless Rome.

TITUS.

A better head her glorious body fits

Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.

What should I don this robe and trouble you?

Be chosen with proclamations to-day,

To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,

And set abroad new business for you all?

Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,

And led my country's strength successfully,

And buried one and twenty valiant sons,

Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,

In right and service of their noble country.

Give me a staff of honour for mine age,

But not a sceptre to control the world.

Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.

Her glorious body deserves a better head

than this one which is shaking with age and weakness.

Why should I put on this robe and cause you trouble?

I could be elected and declared Emperor today,

tomorrow I could die, give up my post,

and you'd have to do the whole business over again.

Rome, I have been a soldier for you for forty years,

and led my country's armies successfully,

I have buried twenty-one brave sons,

who were knighted in battle, killed bravely in warfare

in the justified service of their noble country:

give me a staff of honour to support me in my old age,

but not a sceptre to control the whole world.

The last one who had it, lords, held it in a firm grip.

MARCUS.

Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.

Titus, you shall have the emperorship if you ask for it.

SATURNINUS.

Proud and ambitious Tribune, canst thou tell?

Arrogant and ambitious Tribune, how do you know this?

TITUS.

Patience, Prince Saturninus.

Calm down, Prince Saturninus.

SATURNINUS.

Romans, do me right.

Patricians, draw your swords, and sheathe them not

Till Saturninus be Rome's Emperor.

Andronicus, would thou were shipp'd to hell

Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!

Romans, support my rights.

Patricians, draw your swords, and do not sheathe them

until Saturninus is emperor of Rome.

Andronicus, I'll see you in hell

before you steal the people's hearts from me!

LUCIUS.

Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good

That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

Arrogant Saturnine, you have interrupted noble minded

Titus when he was announcing good things for you!

TITUS.

Content thee, Prince; I will restore to thee

The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.

Be at peace, Prince; I will give the people's hearts back to you,

and reconcile them to not getting what they want.

BASSIANUS.

Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,