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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 bearing 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
For worse than Philomel

shall surfeit on;

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.

SCENE III.

The Same. A Pavilion, with Tables, &c.

Enter LUCIUS, MARCUS, and Goths; with AARON, Prisoner. Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 't 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! unhallow'd slave! Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.

[Exeunt Goths with AARON. Trumpets sound.

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;
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, 'T will 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 beholding 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.

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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;

And with thy shame thy father's sorrow die!

[He kills LAVINIA.

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

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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; 't was Chiron, and Demetrius:
They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue,
And they, 't was 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.

'T is true, 't is 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 his father bleed? There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

[Killing 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.

Roman Lord. Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself;

And she, whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,

Like a forlorn and desperate cast-away,
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; as erst our ancestor,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse,
To love-sick 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 flint, "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 was 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,

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