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Now climbeth Tamora Olympus’ top, Safe out of fortune’s shot; and sits aloft, Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash; Advanced above pale envy’s threatening reach. As when the golden sun salutes the morn, And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, And overlooks the highest-peering hills; So Tamora: Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long Hast prisoner held, fetter’d in amorous chains And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, To wait upon this new-made empress. To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, This siren, that will charm Rome’s Saturnine, And see his shipwreck and his commonweal’s. Holloa! what storm is this?
Now Tamora rises to the top of Olympus, Safe from the attacks of fortune; and sits high, Secure from the thunder or lightning strikes; Elevated above the reach of jealous envy. Just like the golden sun that greets the dawn, And, after gilding the ocean with his light, Rides through the zodiac in his shining chariot, Overlooking the highest mountains; So Tamora: She has earthly honor waiting on her wit, And virtue bows and trembles at her anger. Then, Aaron, prepare your heart, and get your thoughts ready, To rise high with your powerful mistress, And reach her level, she whom you’ve kept in captivity for so long, Chained in passionate love And more tightly bound to Aaron’s enchanting eyes Than Prometheus is to Mount Caucasus. Enough of slave-like thoughts and servile ways! I will shine brightly, wearing pearls and gold, To serve this newly crowned empress. Serve, I said? No, I’ll indulge myself with this queen, This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, This siren who will captivate Rome’s Saturnine, And watch his downfall and that of his people. What’s this noise? What storm is brewing?
Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, And manners, to intrude where I am graced; And may, for aught thou know’st, affected be.
Chiron, you’re young and foolish, your wit is blunt, And your manners don’t belong in places where I’m honored; And for all you know, you might even be pretending.
Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; And so in this, to bear me down with braves. ’Tis not the difference of a year or two Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: I am as able and as fit as thou To serve, and to deserve my mistress’ grace; And that my sword upon thee shall approve, And plead my passions for Lavinia’s love.
Demetrius, you’re too full of yourself in everything; And here, you try to put me down with threats. It’s not a matter of a year or two That makes me less important or you luckier: I’m just as capable and just as deserving as you To serve and earn my mistress’s favor; And my sword will prove this, As it argues for my passion for Lavinia’s love.
[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace.
[Aside] Enough, enough! These lovers can’t keep the peace.
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath Till you know better how to handle it.
Why, boy, although our mother foolishly gave you a sword, Are you really so desperate that you’d threaten your friends? Go ahead; keep your sword sheathed until you know how to use it properly.
Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, You’ll see exactly how much I dare to do.
Ay, boy, grow ye so brave?
Oh, you’re growing brave, are you?
[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! So near the emperor’s palace dare you draw, And maintain such a quarrel openly? Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: I would not for a million of gold The cause were known to them it most concerns; Nor would your noble mother for much more Be so dishonour’d in the court of Rome. For shame, put up.
[Coming forward] What’s going on here, lords? You’re drawing swords so close to the emperor’s palace, And openly fighting like this? I know exactly why you’re arguing: I wouldn’t risk revealing the cause to anyone who matters, And neither would your noble mother want this disgrace, Not for anything more than a million gold pieces. For shame, put your swords away.
Not I, till I have sheathed My rapier in his bosom and withal Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.
Not until I’ve stabbed my rapier into his chest, And shoved these insulting words down his throat For the dishonor he’s caused me here.
For that I am prepared and full resolved. Foul-spoken coward, that thunder’st with thy tongue, And with thy weapon nothing darest perform!
I’m ready for that and fully determined. Coward, you thunder with your words, But with your sword you don’t dare to act!
Away, I say! Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, This petty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous It is to jet upon a prince’s right? What, is Lavinia then become so loose, Or Bassianus so degenerate, That for her love such quarrels may be broach’d Without controlment, justice, or revenge? Young lords, beware! and should the empress know This discord’s ground, the music would not please.
Enough, I say! Now, by the gods that the warrior Goths worship, This petty squabble will ruin us all. Lords, can’t you see how dangerous it is To challenge a prince’s rights like this? Is Lavinia really so promiscuous, Or Bassianus so degraded, That such quarrels can be stirred up Without any consequences, justice, or revenge? Young lords, beware! If the empress learns The reason for this discord, the consequences will be severe.
I care not, I, knew she and all the world: I love Lavinia more than all the world.
I don’t care, I knew she and the whole world: I love Lavinia more than anyone in the world.
Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: Lavinia is thine elder brother’s hope.
Kid, you need to make a better choice: Lavinia is your older brother’s hope.
Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome How furious and impatient they be, And cannot brook competitors in love? I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths By this device.
Why, are you crazy? Or don’t you know, in Rome How angry and impatient people can be, And how they can’t stand rivals in love? I’m telling you, lords, you’re just plotting your deaths With this plan.
Aaron, a thousand deaths Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
Aaron, a thousand deaths I would face to win the woman I love.
To achieve her! how?
To win her! How?
Why makest thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be woo’d; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. What, man! more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of; and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: Though Bassianus be the emperor’s brother. Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge.
Why do you act like this is so unusual? She’s a woman, so she can be courted; She’s a woman, so she can be won; She’s Lavinia, so she must be loved. What, man! More water flows by the mill Than the miller knows about; and it’s easy To steal a slice from a loaf, we know: Even though Bassianus is the emperor’s brother, Better men than him have worn Vulcan’s badge.
[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
[Aside] Yeah, and as good as Saturninus might.
Then why should he despair that knows to court it With words, fair looks and liberality? What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose?
Then why should he give up, when he knows how to win her With words, sweet looks, and generosity? What, haven’t you often hunted a doe, And led her away right under the keeper’s nose?
Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so Would serve your turns.
Well then, I guess a quick grab or two Would work for you.
Ay, so the turn were served.
Yeah, as long as the goal is achieved.
Aaron, thou hast hit it.
Aaron, you’ve got it.
Would you had hit it too! Then should not we be tired with this ado. Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools To square for this? would it offend you, then That both should speed?
I wish you had too! Then we wouldn’t be tired of this mess. Why, listen, listen! Are you really so foolish To fight over this? Would it upset you then If both of you succeeded?
Faith, not me.
Honestly, not me.
Nor me, so I were one.
Nor me, as long as I’m the one.
For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: ’Tis policy and stratagem must do That you affect; and so must you resolve, That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may. Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love. A speedier course than lingering languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path. My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: The forest walks are wide and spacious; And many unfrequented plots there are Fitted by kind for rape and villany: Single you thither then this dainty doe, And strike her home by force, if not by words: This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit To villany and vengeance consecrate, Will we acquaint with all that we intend; And she shall file our engines with advice, That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes’ height advance you both. The emperor’s court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns; There serve your lusts, shadow’d from heaven’s eye, And revel in Lavinia’s treasury.
For shame, be friends, and stop arguing: It’s strategy and cleverness that will get you What you want; and you must accept, That what you can’t get the way you want it, You’ll have to get by any means you can. Listen to me: Lucrece was no more pure Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love. We must take a quicker route than wasting time With slow suffering; I’ve found the way. My lords, there’s a grand hunt coming up; The lovely Roman ladies will gather: The forest paths are wide and open; And many secluded spots are there Ready for rape and evil deeds: Go alone and find this delicate doe, And take her by force, if not by words: This is the way, or none, that gives you hope. Come, come, our empress, with her sharp mind Dedicated to evil and revenge, Will help us with our plans; And she’ll sharpen our schemes with advice, That will make sure you don’t fight each other, But instead take what you both desire. The emperor’s court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of gossip, eyes, and ears: The woods are brutal, terrifying, silent, and empty; There, you can speak and strike, brave boys, and take Your turns; There, follow your desires, hidden from heaven’s sight, And enjoy Lavinia’s wealth.
Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice,
Your plan, boy, shows no cowardice,
Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. Per Styga, per manes vehor.
Whether it’s right or wrong, I’ll wait until I find the way To cool this anger, a spell to calm these outbursts. By the River Styx, by the souls of the dead, I ride.