Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
That we may know the traitors, and the truth!

[She takes the Staff in her Mouth, and guides it
with her Stumps, and writes.

Tit. O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ? Stuprum-Chiron-Demetrius.

Mar. What, what!-the lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this hateful bloody deed?

Tit. Magne Dominator Poli,

Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

Mar. 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 hope,
And swear with me,-as with the woful feere,
And father, of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,-
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
Tit. "Tis sure enough, an' you knew how,
But if you hurt these bear-whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,
She's with the lion deeply still in league,

And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And, when he sleeps, will she do what she list.
You're a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,

And, with a gad of steel, will write these words,

And lay it by the angry northern wind

Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad,
And where's your lesson then?-Boy, what say you?
Boy. I say, my lord, that, if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
For these bad bond-men to the yoke of Rome.
Mar. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft
For this ungrateful country done the like.
Boy. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury;
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and, withal, my boy
Shall carry from me to the empress' sons
Presents, that I intend to send them both:

Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not?
Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.—
Lavinia, come :-Marcus, look to my house;
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;

Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on.

[Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Boy.

Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?—
Marcus, attend him in his extacy,

That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Than foe-men's marks upon his batter'd shield:
But yet so just, that he will not revenge :-
Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!

[Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, at one Door; at another Door, young Lucius, and an Attendant, with a Bundle of Weapons, and Verses writ upon

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

them.

Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

I greet your honours from Andronicus ;—

And pray the Roman gods confound you both! [Aside. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news?

Boy. That you are both decypher'd, that's the news, For villains, mark'd with rape. [Aside.]—May it please

you,

My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury,

To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say,
And so I do, and with his gifts present

Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
You may be armed, and appointed well:

And so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody villains.

[Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? a scroll; and written round about? Let's see :

Integer vita, scelerisque purus,

Non eget Mauri jaculis nec arcu.

Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago.

Aar. Ay, just!-a verse in Horace ;—right, you have

it.

Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!

Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt,

And sends the weapons wrapp'd about with

lines,

That wound, beyond their feeling, to the

quick.

But, were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest a while.—
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aside.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman 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 gods
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 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. I mean, she is brought to bed.

Aar. Well, God

Give her good rest! what hath he sent her?

Nur. A devil.

Aar. Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue. Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue: Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad

Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime.

The empress' sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.

Aar. Out, out, you whore! is black so base a hue?—
Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar. Done! That which thou

Canst not undo.

Chi. Thou hast undone our mother.

Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother.