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 'tis my father's mind, That I repair to Rome, I am content. 1 Goth. And ours, with thine, befall what for- Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil; Aar. Some devil whisper curses in mine ear, [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 Luc. What boots! it thec, to call thyself a sun? parle; These quarrels must be quietly debated. The feast is ready, which the careful Titus Hath ordain'd to an honourable end, (1) Advantage, benefit. (2) i. e. Begin the parley. 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; To slay his daughter with his own right hand, Tit. Your reason, mighty lord? Sat. Because the girl should not survive her shame, And by her presence still renew his sorrows. [He kills Lavinia. And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow die! I am as woful as Virginius was: And have a thousand times more cause than he 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, 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. [Kills Saturninus. A great tumult. The people in confusion disperse. Marcus, Lucius, and their partisans, ascend the steps be fore Titus's house. Mar. You sad-fac'd men, people and sons of By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl Sen. Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, Speak, Rome's dear friend; [To Lucius.] as erst our ancestor, When with his solemn tongue he did discourse, The story of that baleful burning night, But floods of tears will drown my oratory, 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; For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded; The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out, Mar. Now is my turn to speak; Behold this child, [Pointing to the child in the arms of an Attendant. Of this was Tamora delivered; The issue of an irreligious Moor, Chief architect and plotter of these woes; Damn'd as he is, to witness this is true. Now judge, what cause had Titus to revenge Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans? Have we done aught amiss? Shew us wherein, Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down, Emil. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, The common voice do cry, shall be so. Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's royal emperor! Lucius, &c. descend. Mar. Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house; [To an Attendant. And hither hale that misbelieving Moor, Rom. [Several speak.] Lucius, all hail; Rome's gracious governor! Luc. Thanks, gentle Romans; May I govern so, To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her wo! But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,— |