SCENE IV. Rome. Before the Palace
Enter Emperor Saturninus and Empress Tamora and her two sons Chiron and Demetrius, with Attendants. The Emperor brings the arrows in his hand that Titus shot at him.
SATURNINUS.
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, used 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 passed
But even with law against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits?
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
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.
TAMORA.
My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus’ age,
Th’ effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred 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 touched thee to the quick;
Thy life-blood out, if Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
Enter Clown.
How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
CLOWN.
Yes, forsooth, an your mistresship be emperial.
TAMORA.
Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.
CLOWN.
’Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good e’en. I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
[Saturninus reads the letter.]