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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.
Go, get you gone, and, pray, be careful all,
Mar. Oh Publius, is not this a heavy case,
Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns,
Mar. Kinsmen, his forrows are pait remedy.
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:
Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
with wrongs, more than our backs can bear,
[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,
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,
Enter a Clown with a basket and two pigeons.
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
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.
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,
have justice at his hands.
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.
Clown. God be with you, Sir, I will.
[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
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
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.