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Then let the ladies tattle what they please.

Chi. Aaron, I fee, thou wilt not trust the air With secrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora, Her self and hers are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt.

Aar. Now to the Goths, as swift as Swallow flies, There to dispose this treasure in my arms, And secretly to greet the Empress' friends. Come on, you thick-lip'd save, I bear you hence, For it is you that put us to our fhifts: I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots, And feed on curds and whey, and fuck the goat, And cabin in a cave ; and bring you up To be a warrior, and command a camp. [Exit.

SCEN E, a Street near the Palace.

Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gen

tlemen with bows-; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the end of them.

Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way. Sir boy, now let me see your archery, Look, ye draw home enough, and 'tis there ftraight; Terras Aftræa reliquit - be you remember'd, Marcus She' gone, she's fled — Sirs, take you to your tools ; You, cousins, shall go found the ocean, And cast your nets ; haply, you may find her in the sea ; Yet there's as little justice as at land No, Publius and Sempronius ; you muit do it, 'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade, And pierce the inmost centre of the earth : Then, when you come to Pluto's region, I pray you, deliver this petition, Tell him it is for justice, and for aid ; And that it comes from old Andronicus, Shaken with forrows in ungrateful Rome. Ah, Rome ! Well, well, I made thee miserable, What time I threw the people's fuffrages On him, that thus doth tyrannize o'er m.


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Go, get you gone, and, pray, be careful all,
And leave you not a man of war unsearch'd;
This wicked Emperor may have ship'd her hence,
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.

Mar. Oh Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract:

Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns,
By day and night to attend him carefully :
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
'Till time beget some careful remedy.

Mar. Kinsmen, his forrows are pait remedy.
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude.
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit. Publius, how now ? how now, my masters, What, have you met with her ?

Pub. No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word, If you will have revenge

from hell, you shall:
Marry, for justice, she is so employ'd,
He thinks, with Jove in heav'n, or somewhere else ;
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I'll dive into the burning lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' size ;
But metal, Marcus, steel to th' very back;

with wrongs, more than our backs can bear,
And fith there is no justice in earth nor hell,
We will follicit heav'n, and move the Gods,
To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs :
Come, to this gear ; you're a good archer, Marcus.

[He gives them the arrows. Ad Jovem, that's for you here, ad Apollinem Ad Martem, that's for my self; Here, boy, to Pallas here, to MercuryTo Saturn and to Cælus not to Saturnine You were as good to foot against the wind. To it, boy ; Marcus loole when I bid : O' my word, I have written to effect,


Yer wrung

There's not a God left unsollicited.

Mar. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the Court, We will affli& the Emperor in his pride.. [They shoot.

Tit Now, masters, draw ; oh, well said, Lucius : Good boy, in Virgo's lap, give it Pallas.

Mar. My lord, I am a mile beyond the moon ; Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

Tit. Ha, ha, Publius, Publius, what hast thou done ? See, see, thou'st shot off one of Taurus' horns.

Mar. This was the sport, my lord; when Publius shot,
The bull being galld, gave Aries such a knock,
That down fell both the ram's horns in the Court,
And who should find them but the Empress’ villain :
She laugh’d, and told the Moor, he should not chuse
But give them to his master for a present,
Tit. Why, there it goes. God give your lordship joy!

Enter a Clown with a basket and two pigeons.
News, news from heav'n; Marcus, the post is come.
Sirrah, what tidings ? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice, what says Jupiter ?

Clown. Who? the gibbet-maker ? he says, that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hang'd 'till the next week.

Tit. Tut, what says Jupiter, I ask thee?

Clown. Alas, Sir, I know not Jupiter, I never drank with him in all


Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier ?
Clown. Ay, of my pigeons, Sir, nothing else:
Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heav'n?

Clown. From heav'n? alas, Sir, I never came there. God forbid, I should be so bold to press into heav'n in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperial's men.

Mar. Why, Sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration, and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from you.

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Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with a grace ?

Clown. Nay, truly, Sir, I could never say grace in all my life.

Tit. Sirrah, come hither, make no more ado,
But give your pigeons to the Emperor.
By me thou shalt

have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold - mean while, here's mony for thy charges.
Give me a pen and ink.
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication ?

Clown. Ay, Sir.

Tit. Then, here is a supplication for you : and when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel, then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, Sir ; see you do it bravely.

Clown. I warrant you, Sir, let me alone.

Tit. Sirrah, haft thou a knife! come, let me see it.
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration,
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant ;
And when thou haft given it the Emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me, what he says.

Clown. God be with you, Sir, I will.
Tit. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.

[Exeunt. SCENE, the Palace.


Enter Emperor and Empress, and her two sons; the Em

peror brings the arrows in his hand, that Titus fhot. Sat. THY, lords, what wrongs are these ? was ever

An Emperor of Rome thus over-borne,
Troubled, confronted thus, and for th' extent
Of equal justice, us'd in such contempt?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful Gods,
(However the disturbers of our peace
Buz in the people's ears) there nought hath past,
But even with law against the wilful fons


Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
His fits, his frensie, and his bitterness ?
And now he writes to heav'n for his redress.
See, here's to jove, and this to Mercury,
This to Apollo, this to the God of war :
Sweet scrouls, to fly about the streets of Rome !
What's this but libelling against the Senate,
And blazoning our injustice ev'ry where ?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords ?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages :
But he and his shall know, that Justice lives
In Saturninus' health ; whom, if the sleep,
He'll fo awake, as she in fury shall
Cut off the proud't conspirator that lives.

Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thought,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
Th'effects of sorrow for his valiant fons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr’d his heart ;
And rather comfort his distressed plight,
Than prosecute the meaneft, or the best,
For these contempts

Why, thus it shall become High-witted Tamora to glose with all : But, Titus, I have touchd thee to the quick, Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise, Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port. (Afids.

Enter Clown. How, now, good fellow, would'ft thou speak with us ?

Cla. Yea, forsooth, an your Miftership be Emperial. Tam. Empress I am, but yonder fits the Emperor. Clown. 'Tis he : God and St. Stephen give you good.

Even : I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.

[He reads the letter. Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him prefently.



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