Whiles I go tell my Lord, the Emperor,
How I have govern'd our determin'd jest?

Yield to his humour, fmooth and speak him fair, [4.
And tarry with him 'till I come again.

[Afic

Tit. I know them all, tho' they fuppofe me mad; And will o'er-reach them in their own devices: A pair of curfed hell-hounds and their dam. Dem. Madam, depart at pleafure, leave us here. Tam. Farewel, Andronicus, Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes. [Exit Tamora. Tit. I know thou doft; and, fweet Revenge, farewel! Chi. Tell us, old man, how fhall we be employ'd? Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do. Publius, come hither, Caius and Valentine!

Enter Publius and Servants.

Pub. What is your will?
Tit. Know ye these two?

Pub. The Emprefs' fons

I take them, Chiron, and Demetrius.

2

Tit. Fie, Publius, fie, thou art too much deceiv'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 with for fuch an hour,
And now I find it, therefore bind them fure. [Exit Titus
Chi. Villains, forbear, we are the Emprefs' fons.
Pub. And therefore do we what we are commanded.
Stop close their mouths; let them not speak a word.
Is he fure bound? look that ye bind them faft.

SCENE
ENE V.

Enter Titus Andronicus with a Knife, and Lavinia with a Bafon.

Tit. Come, come, Lavinia, look, thy foes are bound; Sirs, ftop their mouths, let them not speak to me,

But

2 is th' other's

But let them hear what fearful words I utter.
Oh villains, Chiron and Demetrius!

Here ftands the spring whom you have ftain'd with mud,
This goodly fummer with your winter mixt:
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 jeft;

Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear
Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
Inhuman traitors, you conftrain'd and forc'd.
What would you fay if I fhould let you speak?
Villains! for fhame you could not beg for grace.
Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
Whilft that Lavinia 'twixt her ftumps doth hold
The bason that receives your guilty blood.
You know your mother means to feast with me,
And calls her felf Revenge, and thinks me mad
Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to duft,
And with your blood and it I'll make a paste,
And of the paste a coffin will I rear,

And make two pafties of your fhameful heads,
And bid that ftrumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
Like to the earth, fwallow her own increase.
This is the feaft that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet fhe fhall furfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you us'd my daughter,
And worse than Progne I will be reveng❜d.
And now prepare your throats: Lavinia, come,
Receive the blood; and when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
And with this hateful liquor temper it;
And in that paste let their vile heads be bak'd.
Come, come, be every one officious

To make this banquet, which I wish might prove
More ftern and bloody than the Centaurs feaft.

[He cuts their throats.

So,

So, now bring them in, for I'll play the cook,

3

And fee them ready 'gainst 'their mother comes. [Exeuni.

Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths with Aaron Prifoner.

Luc. 'Good uncle Marcus, fince 'tis my father's mind That I repair to Rome, I am content.

Goth. And ours with thine, befal what fortune will. Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, This ravenous tiger, this accurfed devil, Let him receive no fuftenance, fetter him, 'Till he be brought unto the Emp'ror's face, For teftimony of these foul proceedings; And fee the ambush of our friends be strong, I fear the Emperor means no good to us.

Aar. Some devil whisper curfes in my ear, And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my fwelling heart! Luc. Away, inhuman dog, unhallow'd flave! [Exeunt Goths with Aaron. Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in. The trumpets fhew the Emperor is at hand.

[Flourifb.

Sound Trumpets. Enter Emperor and Empress, with Tribunes and others.

Sat. What, hath the firmament more funs than one? Luc. What boots it thee to call thy felf a fun? [parley; Mar. Rome's Emperor, and, nephew, break your Thefe quarrels muft be quietly debated:

The feaft 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.

A Table brought in. Enter Titus like a Cook, placing the meat on the Table, and Lavinia with a veil over her face.

6

Tit. Welcome, my gracious Lord, welcome, dread Queen,
Welcome, ye warlike Goths, thou Lucius, welcome,
And welcome all; although the cheer be poor,
'Twill fill your ftomachs, please you eat of it.
Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus?
Tit. Because I would be fure to have all well,
To entertain your Highness, and your Emprefs.
Tam. We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.
Tit. An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.
My Lord the Emperor, refolve me this;
Was it well done of rafh Virginius,

To flay his daughter with his own right-hand,
Becaufe fhe was enforc'd, ftain'd, and deflour'd?
Sat. It was, Andronicus.

Tit. Your reafon, mighty Lord?

Sat. Because the girl fhould not furvive her fhame,
And by her prefence ftill renew his forrows.
Tit. A reafon mighty, 7'ftrong, effectual,`
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant,
For me, moft wretched, to perform the like:
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy fhame with thee,

And with thy fhame thy father's forrow die! [He kills her.
Sat. What haft thou done, unnatural and unkind?
Tit. Kill'd her for whom my tears have made me blind.
I am as woful as Virginius was,

And have a thoufand times more caufe than he

To do this outrage. And it is now done.

Sat. What, was fhe ravifh'd? tell, who did the deed?
Tit. Will't pleafe you eat, will't pleafe your Highnets

feed?

Tam. Why haft thou flain thine only daughter thus?
Tit. Not I, 'twas Chiron and Demetrius.

They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue,

And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.

6 welcome Lucius,

7 Arong, and efectual,

Sat.

Sat. Go fetch them hither to us presently.
Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that pye,
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,

Eating the flesh that fhe her felf hath bred.
'Tis true, 'tis true, witnefs my knife's fharp point.

[He ftabs the Empreji. Sat. Die, frantick wretch, for this accurfed deed! [He ftabs Titus, Luc. Can the fon's eye behold his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

[Lucius ftabs the Emperor. Mar. You fad-fac'd men, people and fons of Rome, By uprore fever'd, like a flight of fowl Scatter'd by winds and high tempeftuous gufts, Oh let me teach you how to knit again This fcatter'd corn into one mutual fheaf, Thefe broken limbs again into one body. Goth. Let Rome her felf be bane unto her felf, And fhe whom mighty kingdoms curtfie to, Like a forlorn and defperate caft-away, Do fhameful execution on her felf.

Mar. But if my frofty figns and chaps of age, Grave witneffes of true experience,

Cannot induce you to attend my words,

Speak, Rome's dear friend; as erft our anceftor, [To Lucius.

When with his folemn tongue he did difcourfe

To love-fick Dido's fad attending ear,

The ftory of that baleful burning night,
When fubtle Greeks furpriz'd King Priam's Troy:
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in,
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,

But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
And break my very utt'rance; even in the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
Lending your kind commiferation.
Here is a captain, let him tell the tale,

Your