Whiles I go tell my Lord, the Emperor, Yield to his humour, fmooth and speak him fair, [4. [Afic Tit. I know them all, tho' they fuppofe me mad; And will o'er-reach them in their own devices: A pair of curfed hell-hounds and their dam. Dem. Madam, depart at pleafure, leave us here. Tam. Farewel, Andronicus, Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes. [Exit Tamora. Tit. I know thou doft; and, fweet Revenge, farewel! Chi. Tell us, old man, how fhall we be employ'd? Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do. Publius, come hither, Caius and Valentine! Enter Publius and Servants. Pub. What is your will? Pub. The Emprefs' fons I take them, Chiron, and Demetrius. 2 Tit. Fie, Publius, fie, thou art too much deceiv'd, The one is Murder, Rape 'is the other's name; And therefore bind them, gentle Publius, Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them; Oft have you heard me with for fuch an hour, SCENE Enter Titus Andronicus with a Knife, and Lavinia with a Bafon. Tit. Come, come, Lavinia, look, thy foes are bound; Sirs, ftop their mouths, let them not speak to me, But 2 is th' other's But let them hear what fearful words I utter. Here ftands the spring whom you have ftain'd with mud, Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear And make two pafties of your fhameful heads, To make this banquet, which I wish might prove [He cuts their throats. So, So, now bring them in, for I'll play the cook, 3 And fee them ready 'gainst 'their mother comes. [Exeuni. Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths with Aaron Prifoner. Luc. 'Good uncle Marcus, fince 'tis my father's mind That I repair to Rome, I am content. Goth. And ours with thine, befal what fortune will. Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, This ravenous tiger, this accurfed devil, Let him receive no fuftenance, fetter him, 'Till he be brought unto the Emp'ror's face, For teftimony of these foul proceedings; And fee the ambush of our friends be strong, I fear the Emperor means no good to us. Aar. Some devil whisper curfes in my ear, And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my fwelling heart! Luc. Away, inhuman dog, unhallow'd flave! [Exeunt Goths with Aaron. Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. The trumpets fhew the Emperor is at hand. [Flourifb. Sound Trumpets. Enter Emperor and Empress, with Tribunes and others. Sat. What, hath the firmament more funs than one? Luc. What boots it thee to call thy felf a fun? [parley; Mar. Rome's Emperor, and, nephew, break your Thefe quarrels muft be quietly debated: The feaft is ready, which the careful Titus For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome: [Hautboys. A Table brought in. Enter Titus like a Cook, placing the meat on the Table, and Lavinia with a veil over her face. 6 Tit. Welcome, my gracious Lord, welcome, dread Queen, To flay his daughter with his own right-hand, Tit. Your reafon, mighty Lord? Sat. Because the girl fhould not furvive her fhame, And with thy fhame thy father's forrow die! [He kills her. And have a thoufand times more caufe than he To do this outrage. And it is now done. Sat. What, was fhe ravifh'd? tell, who did the deed? feed? Tam. Why haft thou flain thine only daughter thus? They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue, And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong. 6 welcome Lucius, 7 Arong, and efectual, Sat. Sat. Go fetch them hither to us presently. Eating the flesh that fhe her felf hath bred. [He ftabs the Empreji. Sat. Die, frantick wretch, for this accurfed deed! [He ftabs Titus, Luc. Can the fon's eye behold his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed. [Lucius ftabs the Emperor. Mar. You fad-fac'd men, people and fons of Rome, By uprore fever'd, like a flight of fowl Scatter'd by winds and high tempeftuous gufts, Oh let me teach you how to knit again This fcatter'd corn into one mutual fheaf, Thefe broken limbs again into one body. Goth. Let Rome her felf be bane unto her felf, And fhe whom mighty kingdoms curtfie to, Like a forlorn and defperate caft-away, Do fhameful execution on her felf. Mar. But if my frofty figns and chaps of age, Grave witneffes of true experience, Cannot induce you to attend my words, Speak, Rome's dear friend; as erft our anceftor, [To Lucius. When with his folemn tongue he did difcourfe To love-fick Dido's fad attending ear, The ftory of that baleful burning night, But floods of tears will drown my oratory, Your |