Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.

O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee:

And, if one arm's embracement will content thee,
I will embrace thee in it by and by.

[Eait TITUS from above.

Tam. This closing with him fits his lunacy
Whate'er I forge, to feed his brain-sick fits,
Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches.
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
And, being credulous in this mad thought,
I'll make him send for Lucius, his son;
And, whilst I at the banquet hold him sure,
I'll find some cunning practice out of hand,
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.

Enter TITUS.

Tit. Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee: Welcome, dread fury, to my woeful house;― Rapine, and Murder, you are welcome too :How like the empress and her sons you are! Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor:Could not all hell afford you such a devil?— For, well I wot, the empress never wags, But in her company there is a Moor; And, would you represent our queen aright, It were convenient you had such a devil: But welcome as you are. What shall we do? Tam. What would'st thou have us do, Andronicus? Dem. Shew me a murderer, I'll deal with him. Chi. Shew me a villain, that hath done a rape,

And I am sent to be reveng'd on him.

Tam. Shew me a thousand, that have done thee wrong, And I will be revenged on them all.

Tit. Look round about the wicked streets of Rome,
And when thou find'st a man that's like thyself,
Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.-
Go thou with him; and when it is thy hap
To find another that is like to thee,
Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher.—
Go thou with them; and in the emperor's court
There is a queen attended by a Moor;

Well may'st thou know her by thy own proportion,
For up and down she doth resemble thee;

I pray thee, do on them some violent death,
They have been violent to me and mine.

Tam. Well hast thou lesson'd us; this shall we do: But would it please thee, good Andronicus,

To send for Lucius, thy thrice valiant son,

Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house:
When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
I will bring in the empress and her sons,
The emperor himself, and all thy foes;
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
What says Andronicus to this device?

Tit. Marcus, my brother!-'tis sad Titus calls.

Enter MARCUS.

Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths:
Bid him repair to me, and bring with him

2

Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths;

Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are:
Tell him, the emperor and the empress too

Feast at my house: and he shall feast with them.
This do thou for my love; and so let him,

As he regards his aged father's life.

Mar. This will I do, and soon return again. [Exit. Tam. Now will I hence about thy business,

And take my ministers along with me.

Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, Or else I'll call my brother back again,

And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

Tam. [To her Sons.] What say you, boys? will you abide with him,

Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor,

How I have govern'd our determin'd jest?

Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,

And tarry with him till I come again.

Tit. I know them all, though they suppose me mad, And will o'er-reach them in their own devices; A pair of cursed hell-hounds, and their dam.

[Aside.

Dem. Madam, depart at pleasure, leave us here. Tam. Farewell, Andronicus: Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes.

[Exit TAM.

Tit. I know, thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell. Chi. Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd? Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do.Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine!

Enter PUBLIUS, and Others.

Pub. What is your will?

Tit. Know you these two?

Pub. The empress' sons,

I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.

Tit. Fye, Publius, fye! 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 wish for such an hour, And now I find it; therefore bind them sure, And stop their mouths, if they begin to cry.

[Exit TITUS.-PUBLIUS, &c. lay hold on CHIRON and DEMETRIUS.

Chi. Villains, forbear; we are the empress' sons. Pub. And therefore do we what we are commanded.-Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a word: Is he sure bound? look that you bind them fast.

Re-enter TITUS ANDRONICUS and LAVINIA; she bearing a Bason, he a Knife.

Tit. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound.--Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me; But let them hear what fearful words I utter.

O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!

Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud;
This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.

You kill'd her husband; and, for that vile fault,
Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death:

My hand cut off, and made a merry jest :

Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that, more dear
Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forced.
What would you say, if I should let you speak?
Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.

Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats;
Whilst that Lavinia 'twixt her stumps doth hold
The bason, that receives your guilty blood.

You know, your mother means to feast with me,
And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad,—
Hark, villains; I will grind your bones to dust,
And with your blood and it I'll make a paste;
And of the paste a coffin will I rear,

And make two pasties of your shameful heads;
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
Like to the earth, swallow her own increase.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she will surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter,
And worse than Progne I will be reveng'd:
And now prepare your throats.-Lavinia, come,

[He cuts their Throats.
Receive the blood; and, when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
And with this hateful liquor temper it;

And in that paste let their vile heads be bak'd.—
Come, come, be every one officious

To make this banquet; which I wish might prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaur's feast.
So, now bring them in, for I will play the cook,
And see them ready 'gainst their mother comes.

[Exeunt, bearing the dead Bodies.