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And would you reprefent our Queen aright,
It were convenient you had such a Devil:
But welcome, as you are, what shall we do?

Tam. What would it thou have us do, Andronic#s?
Dem. Shew me a Murtherer, I'll deal with him,

Chi. Shew me a Villain that hath done a Rape,
And I am sent to be reveng'd on him.

Tam. Shew me a Thousand that have done thee wrong,
And I will be revenged on them all.

Tit. Look round about the wicked Streets of Rome,
And when thou find'st a Man that's like thy felf,
• Good Murder stab him, he's a Murderer.

Go thou with him, and when it is thy hap
To find another that is like to thee,
Good Rapine ftab him, he is a Ravisher.
Go thou with them, and in the Emperor's Court
There is a Queen attended by a Moor;
Well may'st thou know her by thy own proportion,
For up and down the doth resemble thee;
I pray thee do on them some violent Death ;
They have been violent to me and mine.

Tam. Well baft thou Lesson'd us ; this shall we do.
But would it please chee, good Andronicus,
To send for Lucius thy chrice valiant Son,
Who leads towards Rome a Band of Warlike Goths,
And bid him come and Banquet at thy House.
When he is here, even at thy folemn Feast,
I will bring in the Empress and her Sons;
The Emperor himself, and all thy Foes,
And at thy Mercy shall chey stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry Heart:
What says Andronicus to this Devise?

Enter Marcus.
Tit. Marcus my Brother, 'tis fad Titus calls;
Go gentle Marcus to thy Brother Lucius ;
Thou shalt enquire him out among the Goths :
Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
Some of the chiefest Princes of the Goths;
Bid him Encamp his Soldiers where they are;
Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too,

Feafts

1

.

Feast at my House, and he shall Feast with them;

This do thou for my love, and so let him, As he regards his aged Facher's Life.

Mar. This will I do, and foon return again. [Exit.

Tum. Now will I hence about thy Bufiness,
And take my Ministers along with me.

Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me,
Or else I'll call my Brother back again,
And cleave to no Revenge but Lucius.

Tam. What say you, Boys, will you abide with him,
Whiles I go tell my Lord, the Emperor,
How I have govern'd our determined just?
Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
And tarry with him 'till I turn again.

Tit. I know them all, cho' they fuppose me mad,
And will o'er-reach them in their own Devises,
A pair of cursed Hell-hounds and their Dam, [Afides

Dem, Madam, depart at pleasure, leave us here.

Tam. Farewel, Andronicus, Revenge now goes
To lay a Complot to betray thy Foes. Exit Tamora.

Tit. I know thou dost, and sweet Revenge farewel.
Chi. Tellus, Old Man, how shall 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 Empress Sons
I take them, Chiron, Demetrius.

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 wish for such an hour,
And now I find it, therefore bind them sure. [Exit Titus.

Chi. Villains, forbear, we are the Empress' Sons.

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

Tit. Come, come, Lavinia, look, thy Foes are bound; Vol. IV,

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Sirs

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Sirs, stop their Mouths, let them not speak to me,
But let them hear what fearful Words I utter.
Oh Villains, Chiron and Demetrius !
Here stands the Spring whom you have stain’d with Mid,
This goodly Summer 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 jest,
Both her sweet Hands, her Tongue, and that more dear
Than Hands or Tongue, her spotless Chastity,
Inhuman Traitors, you constrain'd and forc'd.
What would you say if I should let you speak?
Villains !--for shame you could not beg for Grace.
Hark, Wretches, how I mean to Martyr you,
This one Hand yet is left to cut your Throats,
Whilst that Lavinia 'twixt her Stumps doth hold
The Bason that receives your guilty Blood.
You know

your

Mother means to fealt with me,
And calls her self Revenge, and thinks me mad-
Hark, Villains; I will grind your Bones to Dust,
And with your Blood and it, I'll make a Paste,
And of the Paste a Coffin will I rear,
And make two Pasties of your shameful Heads,
And bid that Strumpet, your uphallowed Dam,
Like to the Earth, swallow her own Increase.
This is the Feast that I have bid her to,
And this the Banquet she shall surfeit 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,

He cuts their Throats, and Lavinia receives the

Blood in a Bafon.
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 wild Heads be bak'd.
Come, come, be every one officious
To make this Banquet, which I wish might prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs Feast.
So, now bring them in, for I'll play the Cook,
And see them ready 'gainst the Mother comes. [Exeunt.

Enter

Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths with Aaron Prisoner.

Luc. Uncle Marcus, since '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 accursed Devil,
Let him receive no Sustenance, fetter him,
'Till he be brought unto the Emperor's Face,
For Testimony of these 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 my Ear,
And prompt me, that my Tongue may utter forth
The venemous Malice of my swelling Heart.
Luc.A way, inhuman Dog, untallowed Slave,

[Exeunt Goths with Aaron.
Sirs, help our Uncle, to convey him in. [Flourish.
The Trumpets thew the Emperor is at hand.
Sound Trumpets. Enter Emperor and Emprefs, with Tri.

bunes and others.
Sat. What, hath the Firmament more Suns than one?
Luc. What boots it thee to call thy self a Sun?
Mar. Rome's Emperor and Nephew break the Parley,
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. A Table brought in. Enter Titus like a Cook, placing the Meat

on the Table, and Lavinia with a Veil over her Face. Titus. Welcome, my gracious Lord, Welcome, Dread Queen, Welcome, ye Warlike Goths, welcome Lucius, And welcome all; although the Cheer be poor, 'Twill fill your Stomachs, please you eat of it.

Sa. 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 beholding to you, good Andronicus,

Tit. And if your Highness knew my Heart, you were; My Lord, the Emperor, resolve me this?

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Sirs, stop their Mouths, let them not speak to me,
But let them hear what fearful Words I utter.
Oh Villains, Chiron and Demetrius !
Here stands the Spring whom you have stain’d with Md,
This goodly Summer 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 jest,
Both her sweet Hands, her Tongue, and that more dear
Than Hands or Tongue, her spotless Chastity,
Inhuman Traitors, you constrain’d and forc'd.
What would you say if I should let you speak?
Villains for shame you could not begfor Grace.
Hark, Wretches, how I mean to Martyr you,
This one Hand yet is left to cut your Throats,
Whilst that Lavinia 'twixt her Scumps doth hold
The Bason that receives your guilty Blood.
You know your Mother means to feast with me,
And calls her self Revenge, and thinks me mad-
Hark, Villains; I will grind your Bones to Dust,
And with your Blood and it, I'll make a Paste,
And of the Paste a Coffio will I rear,
And make two Pasties of your shameful Heads,
And bid that Strumpet, your unhallowed Dam,
Like to the Earth, swallow her own Increase.
This is the Feast that I have bid her to,
And this che Banquet she shall surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you us'd my Daughter,
And worse than Progne, I will be revengid,
And now prepare your Throats: Lavinia, come,

He cuts their Throats, and Lavinia receives the

Blood in a Bafon.
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 wild Heads be bak’d.
Come, come, be every one officious
To make this Banquet, which I wish might prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs Feast.
So, now bring them in, for I'll play the Cook,
And see them ready 'gainst the Mother comes. (Exeunt.

Enter

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