Pub.

I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.

Tit. Fye, Publius, fye! 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;
And stop their mouths, if they begin to cry.

Th' empress' sons,

[Exit Titus.-Publius, &c. lay hold on Chiron and Demetrius.

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 sure bound? look, that you bind them fast.

Re-enter Titus Andronicus, with Lavinia; she bear. ing a bason, and he a knife.

Tit. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound ;

Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me; But let them hear what fearful words I utter.

O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!

Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud;

This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
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 'tween her stumps doth hold
The bason, that receives your guilty blood.
You know, your mother means to feast with me,
And calls herself, 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* I will rear,

And make two pasties of your shameful heads;
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd 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.
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 may prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' 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.

• Crust of a raised pye.

SCENE III.

A pavilion, with tables, &c.

Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths, with Aaron, prisoner.

The same.

Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis 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! unhallow'd slave !Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.

[Exeunt Goths, with Aaron. Flourish. The trumpets show, the emperor is at hand.

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 ;

* Advantage benefit.

ti. e. Begin the parley.

These quarrels must be quietly debated.
The feast 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 sound. The company sit down at table.

Enter Titus, dressed like a cook, Lavinia, veiled, Young Lucius, and others. Titus places 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 fill 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 defiour'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 un

kind?

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 highness 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 pye; 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, frantick wretch, for this accursed deed. [Killing Titus. Luc. Can the son's eye behold his 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's 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,
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body.

Sen. Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself;
And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate cast-away,