More stern and bloody than the Centaur's feast.
So, now bring them in, for I will play the cook,
And see them ready 'gainst their mother comes.

[Exeunt, bearing the dead Bodies.

SCENE III. The same. A Pavilion, with

Tables, &c. Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths, with AARON,

Prisoner.

Lucius.
UNC
TNCLE Marcus, since it is my father's mind,

That I repair to Rome, I am content. 1 Goth. And ours, with thine, befall what Fortune

will. Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil; Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him, Till he be brought unto the Empress' face, For testimony of her foul proceedings. And see the ambush of our friends be strong; I fear, the Emperor means no good to us.

Aar. Some devil whisper curses in mine ear, And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth The venomous malice of my swelling heart.

Luc. Away, inhuman dog! unballow'd slave! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.

[Exeunt Goths, with Aaron. Flourish. The trumpets shew the Emperor is at band. Enter SATURNINUS and TAMORA, with Tribunes,

Senators, and Others. Sat. What! hath the firmament more suns than one? Luc. What boots it thee, to call thyself a sun? Mar. Rome's Emperor and nephew, break the

parle; These quarrels must be quietly debated.

The feast is ready, which the careful Titus
Hath ordained 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 sound. The Company sit down

at Table. Enter Titus, dressed like a Cook; Lavinia, veiled,

Young Lucius, and others. Titus pluces the

Dishes on the Table. Tit. Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread

queen; Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius; And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor, 'Twill till your stomachs; please you eat of it.

Sat. Why art thou thus attir'd, Andronicus ?

Tit. Because I would be sure to have all well, To entertain your Highness and your Empress.

Tam. We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.

Tit. An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.
My lord the Emperor, resolve me this:
Was it well done of rash Virginius,
To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
Because she was enforc'd, stain'd, and deflour'd ?

Sat. It was, Andronicus.
Tit.

Your reason, mighty lord ! Sat. Because the girl should not survive her shame, And by her presence still renew his sorrows.

Tit. A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant,
For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee;

[He kills LAVINIA. And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow die!

Sat. What hast 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 thousand times more cause than he
To do this outrage ; and it is now done.

Sat. What! was she ravish'd ? tell, who did the deed.
Tit. Will't please you eat? will’t please your High-

ness feed ?
Tam. Why hast thou slain 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.

Sat. Go, fetch them hither to us presently,
Tit. Why, there they are both, baked in that pie;
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
'Tis true, 'tis true; witness my knife's sharp point.

[Killing TAMORA. Sat. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed.

(Killing Titus. Luc. Can the son's eye behold the father bleed ? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

[Kills SATURNINUS. A great Tumult. The

People in confusion disperse. MARCUS,
Lucius and their Partisans ascend the Steps

before Titus' House.
Mar. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of Rome,
By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl
Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
Oh! let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body!
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself;
And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
Do shameful execution on herself.
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
Grave witnesses of true experience,
Cannot induce you to attend my words,
Speak, Rome's dear friend! [TO Lucius) as erst our

ancestor, When with his solemn tongue he did discourse

a

To lovesick Dido's sad attending ear,
The story of that baleful burning night,
When subtle Greeks surpris’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 fint nor steel;
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
And break my very utterance; even i’the time
When it should move you to attend me most,
Lending your kind commiseration.
Here is a captain, let him tell the tale;
Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.

Luc. Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,
That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
Were they that murdered our Emperor's brother;
And they it were that ravished our sister:
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;
Our father's tears despis’d; and basely cozen'd
Of that true hand, that fought Rome's quarrel out,
And sent her enemies unto the

grave: Lastly, myself unkindly banished, The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, To beg relief among Rome's enemies ; Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears, And op'd their arms to embrace me as a friend. And I am the turn'd-forth, be it known to you, That have preserv'd her welfare in my blood; And from her bosom took the enemy's point, Sheathing the steel in my advent'rous body. Alas! you know, I am no vaunter, I; My scars can witness, dumb although they are, That my report is just, and full of truth. But, soft! methinks, I do digress too much, Citing my worthless praise. Oh! pardon me; For, when no friends are by, men praise themselves. Mar. Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child, [Pointing to the Child in the arms of an

Attendant.

Of this was Tamora delivered,
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes;
The villain is alive in Titus' house,
And as he is, to witness this is true.
Now judge, what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.
Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?
Have we done aught amiss ? Shew us wherein,
And, from the place where you behold us now,
The poor remainder of Andronici
Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down,
And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak; and, if you say we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
Æmil. Come, come to us, thou reverend man of

Rome,
And bring our Emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our Emperor; for, well I know,
The common voice do

cry,

it shall be so. Mar. Lucius, all bail; Rome's royal Emperor !

Lucius, &c. descend.
Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house;

[To an Attendant.
And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
To be adjudg’ some direful slaughtering death,
As punishment for his most wicked life.
Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail! Rome's

gracious Governour! Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans; may I govern so, To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe! But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, For Nature puts me to a heavy task ;Stand all aloof,—but, uncle, draw you near, To obsequious tears upon this trunk.Oh, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,

[Kisses Titus.