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brave? [They draw]

AARON. [Coming forward] Why, how now, lords!

So near the Emperor’s palace dare ye draw And maintain such a quarrel openly?

Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: I would not for a million of gold

The cause were known to them it most concerns; Nor would your noble mother for much more Be so dishonoured in the court of Rome.

For shame, put up.

DEMETRIUS. Not I, till I have sheath’d

My rapier in his bosom, and withal

Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat That he hath breath’d in my dishonour here.

CHIRON. For that I am prepar’d and full resolv’d, Foul-spoken coward, that thund’rest with thy tongue, And with thy weapon nothing dar’st perform.

AARON. Away, I say!

Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, This pretty brabble will undo us all.

Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous It is to jet upon a prince’s right?

What, is Lavinia then become so loose, Or Bassianus so degenerate,

That for her love such quarrels may be broach’d Without controlment, justice, or revenge?

Young lords, beware; an should the Empress know This discord’s ground, the music would not please.

CHIRON. I care not, I, knew she and all the world: I love Lavinia more than all the world.

DEMETRIUS. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: Lavina is thine elder brother’s hope.

AARON. Why, are ye mad, or know ye not in Rome How furious and impatient they be,

And cannot brook competitors in love?

I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths By this device.

CHIRON. Aaron, a thousand deaths

Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.

AARON. To achieve her-how?

DEMETRIUS. Why mak’st thou it so strange?

She is a woman, therefore may be woo’d; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov’d.

What, man! more water glideth by the mill Than wots the miller of; and easy it is Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know.

Though Bassianus be the Emperor’s brother, Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge.

AARON. [Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.

DEMETRIUS. Then why should he despair that knows to court it With words, fair looks, and liberality?

What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose?

AARON. Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so Would serve your turns.

CHIRON. Ay, so the turn were served.

DEMETRIUS. Aaron, thou hast hit it.

AARON. Would you had hit it too!

Then should not we be tir’d with this ado.

Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools To square for this? Would it offend you, then, That both should speed?

CHIRON. Faith, not me.

DEMETRIUS. Nor me, so I were one.

AARON. For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar.

‘Tis policy and stratagem must do

That you affect; and so must you resolve That what you cannot as you would achieve, You must perforce accomplish as you may.

Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love.

A speedier course than ling’ring languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path.

My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; There will the lovely Roman ladies troop; The forest walks are wide and spacious, And many unfrequented plots there are Fitted by kind for rape and villainy.

Single you thither then this dainty doe, And strike her home by force if not by words.

This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.

Come, come, our Empress, with her sacred wit To villainy and vengeance consecrate, Will we acquaint with all what we intend; And she shall file our engines with advice That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes’ height advance you both.

The Emperor’s court is like the house of Fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears; The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull.

There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your turns; There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven’s eye, And revel in Lavinia’s treasury.

CHIRON. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice.

DEMETRIUS. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, Per Styga, per manes vehor. Exeunt

SCENE II.

A forest near Rome

 

Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, and his three sons, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, making a noise with hounds and horns; and MARCUS

 

TITUS. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.

Uncouple here, and let us make a bay, And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride, And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter’s peal, That all the court may echo with the noise.

Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, To attend the Emperor’s person carefully.

I have been troubled in my sleep this night, But dawning day new comfort hath inspir’d.

 

Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal.

Then enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS LAVINIA, CHIRON, DEMETRIUS, and their attendants Many good morrows to your Majesty!

Madam, to you as many and as good!

I promised your Grace a hunter’s peal.

SATURNINUS. And you have rung it lustily, my lords-Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

BASSIANUS. Lavinia, how say you?

LAVINIA. I say no;

I have been broad awake two hours and more.

SATURNINUS. Come on then, horse and chariots let us have, And to our sport. [To TAMORA] Madam, now shall ye see Our Roman hunting.

MARCUS. I have dogs, my lord,

Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, And climb the highest promontory top.

TITUS. And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows o’er the plain.

DEMETRIUS. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. Exeunt

SCENE III.

A lonely part of the forest

 

Enter AARON alone, with a bag of gold

 

AARON. He that had wit would think that I had none, To bury so much gold under a tree

And never after to inherit it.

Let him that thinks of me so abjectly Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, Which, cunningly effected, will beget A very excellent piece of villainy.

And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest [Hides the gold]

That have their alms out of the Empress’ chest.

 

Enter TAMORA alone, to the Moor TAMORA. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look’st thou sad When everything does make a gleeful boast?

The birds chant melody on every bush; The snakes lie rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequer’d shadow on the ground; Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And while the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tun’d horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise; And-after conflict such as was suppos’d The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed, When with a happy storm they were surpris’d, And curtain’d with a counsel-keeping cave-We may, each wreathed in the other’s arms, Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber, Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurse’s song

Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.

AARON. Madam, though Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine.

What signifies my deadly-standing eye, My silence and my cloudy melancholy,

My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls Even as an adder when she doth unroll To do some fatal execution?

No, madam, these are no venereal signs.

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.

Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul, Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee-This is the day of doom for Bassianus; His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, Thy sons make pillage of her chastity, And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood.

Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee, And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll.

Now question me no more; we are espied.

Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, Which dreads not yet their lives’ destruction.

 

Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA TAMORA. Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!

AARON. No more, great Empress: Bassianus comes.

Be cross with him; and I’ll go fetch thy sons To back thy quarrels, whatsoe’er they be. Exit BASSIANUS. Who have we here? Rome’s royal Emperess, Unfurnish’d of her well-beseeming troop?

Or is it Dian, habited like her,

Who hath abandoned her holy groves

To see the general hunting in this forest?

TAMORA. Saucy controller of my private steps!

Had I the pow’r that some say Dian had, Thy temples should be planted presently With horns, as was Actaeon’s; and the hounds Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, Unmannerly intruder as thou art!

LAVINIA. Under your patience, gentle Emperess, ‘Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning, And to be doubted that your Moor and you Are singled forth to try thy experiments.

Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day!

‘Tis pity they should take him for a stag.

BASSIANUS. Believe me, Queen, your swarth Cimmerian Doth make your honour of his body’s hue, Spotted, detested, and abominable.

Why are you sequest’red from all your train, Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed, And wand’red hither to an obscure plot, Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, If foul desire had not conducted you?

LAVINIA. And, being intercepted in your sport, Great reason that my noble lord be rated For sauciness. I pray you let us hence, And let her joy her raven-coloured love; This valley fits the purpose passing well.

BASSIANUS. The King my brother shall have notice of this.

LAVINIA. Ay, for these slips have made him noted long.

Good king, to be so mightily abused!

TAMORA. Why, I have patience to endure all this.

 

Enter CHIRON and DEMETRIUS

 

DEMETRIUS. How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother!

Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan?

TAMORA. Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?

These two have ‘ticed me hither to this place.

A barren detested vale you see it is: The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe; Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven.

And when they show’d me this abhorred pit, They told me, here, at dead time of the night, A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, Would make such fearful and confused cries As any mortal body hearing it

Should straight fall mad or else die suddenly.

No sooner had they told this hellish tale But straight they told me they would bind me here Unto the body of a dismal yew,

And leave me to this miserable death.

And then they call’d me foul adulteress, Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms That ever ear did hear to such effect; And had you not by wondrous fortune come, This vengeance on me had they executed.

Revenge it, as you love your mother’s life, Or be ye not henceforth call’d my children.

DEMETRIUS. This is a witness that I am thy son.

[Stabs BASSIANUS]

CHIRON. And this for me, struck home to show my strength.

[Also stabs]

LAVINIA. Ay, come, Semiramis-nay, barbarous Tamora, For no name fits thy nature but thy own!

TAMORA. Give me the poniard; you shall know, my boys, Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong.

DEMETRIUS. Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her; First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.

This minion stood upon her chastity,

Upon her nuptial

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