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| Character | Marcus Andronicus | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Adult (36-50), Senior (>50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Lamenting | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Renaissance | |
| Genre | Tragedy | |
| Description | Marcus Andronicus finds his niece Lavinia with her tongue and hands cut off | |
| Location | ACT II, Scene 4 | |
Summary
The play starts after the death of the emperor of Rome. His two sons, Saturninus and Bassianus, fight to become the next emperor. The Tribune of Rome (Marcus Andronicus), however, elects Titus Andronicus, a Roman general, as emperor. Titus Andronicus has just spent ten years fighting in a war to protect Rome and has captured the Queen of the Goths, Tamora, her three sons and her lover Aaron. Following a Roman custom, Titus Andronicus sacrifices Tamora's oldest son to honor all Titus' sons who died in the war. Titus Andronicus refuses to become the next emperor and passes the title to Saturninus. To prove his gratitude Saturninus marries Lavinia, Titus' daughter. Lavinia, however, is already bethothed to Bassinus and decides to flee. Humiliated, Saturninus decides to marry Tamora who now will seek revenge against Titus Andronicus.
Chiron and Demetrious, Tamora's sons, are advised by Aaron to rape Lavinia and satisfy their lust on her. At first they kill her husband Bassianus and Aaron frames Titus' sons for the murder, then they rape her in the forest and cut off her tongue and hands so that she can't reveal the perpetrators of the crime.
In this scene, Marcus Andronicus, her uncle, finds her in the forest and laments the sight of his niece in such a state.
Chiron and Demetrious, Tamora's sons, are advised by Aaron to rape Lavinia and satisfy their lust on her. At first they kill her husband Bassianus and Aaron frames Titus' sons for the murder, then they rape her in the forest and cut off her tongue and hands so that she can't reveal the perpetrators of the crime.
In this scene, Marcus Andronicus, her uncle, finds her in the forest and laments the sight of his niece in such a state.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
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| MARCUS Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! Cousin, a word; where is your husband? If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! If I do wake, some planet strike me down, That I may slumber in eternal sleep! Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, And might not gain so great a happiness As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, Coming and going with thy honey breath. But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, That could have better sew'd than Philomel. O, had the monster seen those lily hands Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, He would not then have touch'd them for his life! Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony Which that sweet tongue hath made, He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; For such a sight will blind a father's eye: One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee O, could our mourning ease thy misery! |
