Then let the ladies tattle what they please. Chi. Aaron, I fee, thou wilt not trust the air With fecrets. Dem. For this care of Tamora, Her felf and hers are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt. Aar. Now to the Goths, as fwift as Swallow flies, I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots, To be a warrior, and command a camp. SCENE, a Street near the Palace. [Exit. Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen with bows; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the end of them. Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinfmen, this is the way. Sir boy, now let me fee your archery. Look, ye draw home enough, and 'tis there ftraight; Terras Aftraa reliquit - be you remember'd, MarcusShe' gone, fhe's fled— Sirs, take you to your tools; You, coufins, fhall go found the ocean, And caft your nets; haply, you may find her in the feas Yet there's as little juftice as at land No, Publius and Sempronius; you must do it, 'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade, Go, get you gone, and, pray, be careful all, Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns, Mar. Kinfmen, his forrows are pait remedy. Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my mafters, What, have you met with her? Pub. No, my good lord, but Pluto fends you word, If you will have revenge from hell, you shall: Marry, for juftice, fhe is fo employ'd, He thinks, with Jove in heav'n, or fomewhere else; So that perforce you must needs stay a time. Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. And pull her out of Acheron by the heels. No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' fize; Yet wrung with wrongs, more than our backs can bear. [He gives them the arrows. here, ad Apollinem felf; Ad Jovem, that's for you - not to Saturnine You were as good to fhoot against the wind. There's There's not a God left unfollicited. Mar. Kinfmen, fhoot all your fhafts into the Court, We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.. [They Shoot. Tit Now, masters, draw; oh, well faid, 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 haft thou done See, fee, thou'ft shot off one of Taurus' horns. Mar. This was the fport, my lord; when Publius shot, The bull being gall'd, gave Aries fuch a knock, That down fell both the ram's horns in the Court, And who should find them but the Emprefs' villain : She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he should not chuse But give them to his mafter for a present. Tit. Why, there it goes. God give your lordship joy ! Enter a Clown with a basket and two pigeons. Clown. Who? the gibbet-maker? he fays, that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hang'd 'till the next week. Tit. Tut, what fays Jupiter, I ask thee? I never drank with him in all my life. Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? Clown. From heav'n? alas, Sir, I never came there. God forbid, I fhould be fo 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 ferve 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 fay 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. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a fupplication? Tit. Then, here is a fupplication for you: and when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel, then kifs his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, Sir; fee you do it bravely. Clown. I warrant you, Sir, let me alone. Tit. Sirrah, haft thou a knife? come, let me fee it. For thou haft made it like an humble fuppliant ; Tit. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me. SCENE, the Palace. [Exeunt. Enter Emperor and Empress, and her two fons; the Em-· peror brings the arrows in his hand, that Titus fhot. Sat. HY, An Emperor of Rome thus over-borne, Troubled, confronted thus, and for th' extent Buz in the people's ears) there nought hath past, Of Of old Andronicus. And what an if Shall be no fhelter to thefe outrages: But he and his fhall know, that Juftice lives Whose lofs hath pierc'd him deep, and fearr'd his heart; And rather comfort his diftreffed plight, Than profecute the meaneft, or the beft, For these contempts Why, thus it fhall become High-witted Tamora to glofe with all: But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick, Enter Clown. [Afide. How, now, good fellow, would'ft thou speak with us? I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here. Clown. |