The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus. Уильям Шекспир

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        MARCUS. Brother, for in that name doth nature plead-

        QUINTUS. Father, and in that name doth nature speak-

        TITUS. Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.

        MARCUS. Renowned Titus, more than half my soul-

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

        MARCUS. Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter

          His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,

          That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.

          Thou art a Roman- be not barbarous.

          The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax,

          That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son

          Did graciously plead for his funerals.

          Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,

          Be barr'd his entrance here.

        TITUS. Rise, Marcus, rise;

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

          To be dishonoured by my sons in Rome!

          Well, bury him, and bury me the next.

        LUCIUS. There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,

          Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.

        ALL. [Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius;

          He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

        MARCUS. My lord- to step out of these dreary dumps-

          How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths

          Is of a sudden thus advanc'd in Rome?

        TITUS. I know not, Marcus, but I know it is-

          Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell.

          Is she not, then, beholding to the man

          That brought her for this high good turn so far?

        MARCUS. Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.

        SATURNINUS. So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:

          God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!

        BASSIANUS. And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,

          Nor wish no less; and so I take my leave.

        SATURNINUS. Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,

          Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.

        BASSIANUS. Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,

          My true betrothed love, and now my wife?

          But let the laws of Rome determine all;

          Meanwhile am I possess'd of that is mine.

        SATURNINUS. 'Tis good, sir. You are very short with us;

          But if we live we'll be as sharp with you.

        BASSIANUS. My lord, what I have done, as best I may,

          Answer I must, and shall do with my life.

          Only thus much I give your Grace to know:

          By all the duties that I owe to Rome,

          This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,

          Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd,

          That, in the rescue of Lavinia,

          With his own hand did slay his youngest son,

          In zeal to you, and highly mov'd to wrath

          To be controll'd in that he frankly gave.

          Receive him then to favour, Saturnine,

          That hath express'd himself in all his deeds

          A father and a friend to thee and Rome.

        TITUS. Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds.

          'Tis thou and those that have dishonoured me.

          Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge

          How I have lov'd and honoured Saturnine!

        TAMORA. My worthy lord, if ever Tamora

          Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,

          Then hear me speak indifferently for all;

          And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.

        SATURNINUS. What, madam! be dishonoured openly,

          And basely put it up without revenge?

        TAMORA. Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend

          I should be author to dishonour you!

          But on mine honour dare I undertake

          For good Lord Titus' innocence in all,

          Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs.

          Then at my suit look graciously on him;

          Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,

          Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.

          [Aside to SATURNINUS] My lord, be rul'd by me,

            be won at last;

          Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.

          You are but newly planted in your throne;

          Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,

          Upon a just survey take Titus' part,

          And so supplant you for ingratitude,

          Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,

          Yield at entreats, and then let me alone:

          I'll find a day to massacre them all,

          And raze their faction and their family,

          The cruel father and his traitorous sons,

          To whom I sued for my dear son's life;

          And make them know what 'tis to let a queen

          Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. -

          Come, come, sweet Emperor; come, Andronicus.

          Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart

          That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.

        SATURNINUS. Rise, Titus, rise; my Empress hath prevail'd.

        TITUS. I thank your Majesty and her, my lord;

          These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.

        TAMORA. Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,

          A Roman now adopted happily,

          And must advise the СКАЧАТЬ