Boy. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments:

Make my aunt inerry with some pleasing tale.
Marc. Alas, the tender boy, in passion mov'd,
Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
Tit. Peace,tender sapling; thou art made of tears,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.-

[MARCUS strikes the Dish with a Knife.
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
Marc. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.
Til. Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart:
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
A deed of death, done on the innocent,
Becomes not Titus brother: Get thee gone;
I see thou art not for my company.

Marc. Alas, my lord. I have but kill'd a fly. Til But how, if that fly had a father and mother? How would he hang his slender gilded wings, And buz lamenting doings in the air?

Poor harmless fly!

That with his pretty buzzing melody,

Marc. Pardon me, sir; 'twas a blackin ene fly,

Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I WA
Tit. 0, 0, 0,

Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor,
Come hither purposely to poison me.-
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamorango the
Ah, sirrah!9

Yet I do think we are not brought so low,
But that, between us, we can kill a fly.
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Mo
Marc. Alas, poor man! grief has so wro
him,

He takes false shadows for true substances.
Tit. Come, take away.-Lavinia, go with
I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee
Sad stories, chanced in the times of old.—
Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is your

i

see, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee:
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her sons, than she hath read to thee,
Sweet poetry, and Tully's Orator.s

Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
Boy. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs would make men mad;
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy

Ran mad through sorrow: That made me to fear:
Although, my lord, I know, my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:
Which made me down to throw my books, and fly;
Causeless, perhaps: But pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,

I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
Marc. Lucius, I will.

[LAVINIA turns over the Books which
LUCIUS has let fall.

Tit. How now, Lavinia ?-Marcus, what means this?

Some book there is that she desires to see:-
Which is it, girl, of these?-Open them, boy.-
But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd;
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.-
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
Mare. I think, she means, that there was more

than one

Confederate in the fact:-Ay, more there was:-
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
Tit. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
Boy. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;
My mother gave't me.
Marc.
For love of her that's gone,
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.
Tit. Soft! see, how busily she turns the leaves!
Help her:-

· Tully's Treatise on Eloquence, entitled Orator.

Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, swertz Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was, Forced in the ruthless,2 vast, and gloomy woods See, see!

Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt,
(0, had we never, never, hunted there!)
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders, and for rapes.
Marc. O why should nature build so foul a de
Unless the gods delight in tragedies!

Tit. Give signs, sweet girl,-for here are nat but friends,

What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?
Marc. Sit down, sweet niece; brother, sit dow

by me.

Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
Inspire me, that I may this treason find!-
My lord, look here;-Look here, Lavinia:
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This after me, when I have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.

[He writes his Name with his Steff guides it with his Feet and Mouth Curs'd be that heart, that forced us to this sho Write thou, good niece; and here display, at aske What God will have discover'd for reverze: Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows pudlia That we may know the traitors, and the truth!

[She takes the Staff in her Mouth, and guida it with her Stümps, and writes. Tit. O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ Stuprum-Chiron-Demetrius.

Marc. What, what!--the lustful sons of Tim Performers of this heinous, bloody deed! Tit. Magne Dominator poli

Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus video? Marc. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although I

know,

There is enough written upon this earth,
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,
And arm the minds of infants to exclaims,
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's bori
And swear with me,-as with the woetal teere,
And father, of that chaste dishonor'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,—
That we will prosecute, by good advies,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
This was formerly not a disrespectful expression.
1 Observes.
⚫ Pitiless.

Is sure enough, and you knew how, a hurt these bear-whelps, then beware: will wake; and, if she wind you once, h the lion deeply still in league,

him while she playeth on her back, en he sleeps, will she do what she list. young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone; he, I will go get a leaf of brass, ha gad of steel will write these words, at by: the angry northern wind w these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad, ere's your lesson then?-Boy, what say you? I say, my lord, that if I were a man, other's bed-chamber should not be safe se bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft s ungrateful country done the like. And uncle, so will I, an if I live. Come, go with me into mine armory; I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy arry from me to the empress' sons ts, that I intend to send them both:

come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not? .Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grand

sire.

No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course. ia, come:-Marcus, look to my house; is and I'll go brave it at the court; arry, will we, sir: and we'll be waited on.

[Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Boy. c. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, Lot relent, or not compassion him? as, attend him in his ecstasy; hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, n foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield: yet so just, that he will not revenge:enge the heavens for old Andronicus! [Exit.

SCENE II-A Room in the Palace.

AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, at one wor; at another Door, young LUCIUS and an ttendant, with a bundle of Weapons, and erses writ upon them.

hi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; hath some message to deliver us.

lar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

By. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, Teet your honors from Andronicus;—

ad pray the Roman gods confound you both.

[Aside. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news? Bou. That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, villains mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you,

yzrandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me e goodliest weapons of his armory, gratify your honorable youth,

e hope of Rome: for so he bade me say;

nd so I do, and with his gifts present

our lordships, that whenever you have need, Du may be armed and appointed well: nd so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round about?

et's see.

Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? Did you not use his daughter very friendly

Dem. I would we had a thousand Romai, dames At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust. Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love. Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand

more.

Dem. Come, let us go; and pray to all the gels For our beloved mother in her pains.

Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us
o'er.
[Aside. Flourish
Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish
thus?

Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
Dem. Soft; who comes here!

Enter a Nurse, with a Black-a-moor Child in her
Arms.

Nur.

Good-morrow, lords:
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
Aar. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is: and what with Aaron now?
Nur. O, gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
Aar. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep?
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?
Nur. O, that which I would hide from heaven's
eye,

Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace;
She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver'd.
Aar. To whom?

Nur. Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so. Aar. What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Dem. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point; Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it. Aur.Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.

[Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws.
Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!

I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,

Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what; ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-lim'd walls! ye ale-house painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,

In that it scorns to bear another hue:
For all the water in the ocean

Can never turn a swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood
Tell the emperess from me, I am of age
To keep mine own; excuse it how she can.
Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus
Aar. My mistress is my mistress; this, myself
The vigor and the picture of my youth:
This, before all the world, do I prefer;
This, maugre7 all the world, will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

J'ent. By this our mother is for ever shamed.
hi. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
Nur.The emperor, in his rage,will doom her death.
Chi. I blush to think upon this ignomy.8
Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
Fye,treacherous hue! that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counsels of the heart!
Here's a young lad framed of another leer:9
Look how the black slave smiles upon the father;
As who should say, Old lad, I am thine own.
He is your brother, lords; sensibly fed

Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;
And, from that womb, where you imprison'd were,
He is enfranchised and come to light:
Nay, he's your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.
Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?
Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice;
Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.

Aar. Then sit we down, and let us all consult. My son and I will have the wind of you: Keep there: Now talk at pleasure of your safety. [They sit on the Ground. Dem. How many women saw this child of his? Aar. Why, so, brave lords! when we all join in league,

I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.-
But. say again, how many saw the child?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife, and myself:
And no one else but the deliver'd empress.

Aar. The emperess, the midwife, and yourself: Two may keep counsel when the third's away: Go, to the empress; tell her, this I said :

[Stabbing her. Weke, weke!-so cries a pig prepared to the spit. Dent. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?

Aar. O, lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy: Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours? A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no. And now be it known to you my full intent. Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman; His wife but yesternight was brought to bed; His child is like to her, fair as you are: Go pack' with him, and give the mother gold, And tell them both the circumstance of all; And how by this their child shall be advanced And be received for the emperor's heir, And substituted in the place of mine, To calm this tempest whirling in the court: And let the emperor dandle him for his own. Hark ye, lords; ye see, that I have given her physic, [Pointing to the Nurse. And you must needs bestow her funeral; The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms: This done, see that you take no longer days, But send the midwife presently to me. The midwife, and the nurse well made away, Then let the ladies tattle what they please. Chi. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air With secrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora. Herself, and hers, are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, bearing off

the Nurse.

Sir boy, now let me see your archery;

Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
Sir, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
Happily you may find her in the sea;
Yet there's as little justice as at land :-
No; Publius and Sempronius, you must 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 him this petition:
Tell him, it is for justice, and for aid:
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.-
Ah, Rome!-Well, well; I made thee miserable,
What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.-
Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man of war unsearch'd;
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence,
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
Marc. O, 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 humor kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.

Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past 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 heaven 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, framed of the Cyclops' size:
But, metal, Marcus, steel to the very back;
Yet wrung2 with wrongs, more than our backs can
bear:

And sith3 there is no justice in earth nor hell,
We will solicit heaven; and move the gods,
To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs:
Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus.
He gives them the Arrows.
Ad Jovem, that's for you: Here, ad Apollinem:—
Ad Martem, that's for myself:-
To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine.--
Here, boy, to Pallas:-Here, to Mercury:
You were as good to shoot against the wind.--
To it, boy. Marcus, loose when I bid:
O' my word, I have written to effect;
There's not a god left unsolicited.
Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the

court;

We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
Tit. Now, masters, draw. [They shoot.] 0, well

said, Lucius!

Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.

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

See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus horns.
Tit. Ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
Marc. This was the sport, my lord: when Pub-

lius shot,

The bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock,
That down fell both the ram's horns in the court,
And who should find them but the empress villam!
She laugh'd and told the Moor, he should not
choose
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 heaven! Marcus, the post

come.

Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter! Clo. Ho! the gibbet-maker! he says, that he be hanged till the next week. a Since.

Ignominy. Complexion. Contrive, bargain with.

2 Strained.