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Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
Tit. Marcus, my brother !-'tis sad Titus calls.
Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
[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. 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,
[Aside. And tarry with him till I come again. Tit. I know them all, though they suppose me
And will o'er-reach them in their own devices,
[ Aside. Dem. Madam, depart at pleasure, leave us here.
Tam. Farewell, Andronicus: Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
[Exit TAMORA. Tit. I know, thou dost; and, sweet Revenge,
farewell. Chi. Tell us, old man, how shall we be em
ploy'd ? Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do.Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine !
Enter Publius, and Others.
Know you these two ?
Th' empress' sons, I take them, Chiron and Demetrius. Tit. Fye, Publius, fye! thou art too much de
ceiv'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 Chi
RON and DEMETRIUS. Chi. Villains, forbear; we are the empress' sons. Pub. And therefore do we what we are com
manded.Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a
word: Is he sure bound ? look, that you bind them fast.
Re-enter Titus ANDRONICUS, with LAVINIA; she
bearing a Bason, and 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 forc'd. 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 'tween 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 coffino I will 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 of the paste a coffin-) A coffin is the term of art for the cavity of a raised pye.
- her own increase.] i. e. her own produce. VOL. IX.
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
[He cuts their Throats.
[Exeunt, bearing the dead Bodies.
SCENE III. The same. A Pavilion, with Tables, &c. Enter Lucius, MARCUS, and Goths, with AARON,
Prisoner. Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind, That I repair to Rome, I am content. i Goth. And ours, with thine, befall what for
tune will. Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous
8 And ours with thine,) And our content runs parallel with thine, be the consequence of our coming to Rome what it may.
Aar. Some devil whisper curses in mine ear, And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my swelling heart !
Luc. Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave ! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
Exeunt Goths, with AARON. Flourish. The trumpets show, the emperor is at hand.
Enter SATURNINUS and TAMORA, with Tribunes,
Senators, and Others. Sat. What, hath the firmament more suns than
one? Luc. What boots it thee, to call thyself a sun? Mar. Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the
parle; These quarrels must be quietly debated. The feast is ready, which the careful Titus Hath ordain'd to an honourable end, For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome: Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your
places. Sat. Marcus, we will. [Hautboys sound. The Company sit down at
Enter Tirus, dressed like a Cook, LAVINIA, veiled,
young Lucius, and Others. Titus places the Dishes on the Table. Tit. Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread
queen; Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius; And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor, ”Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.
'— break the parle;] That is, begin the parley. We yet say, he breaks his mind.