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Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd Horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us fit down and mark their yelping noise:
And after conflia such as was suppos'd
The wandring Prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
When with a happy storm they were surpriz’d,
And curtain'd with a Counsel-keeping Cave,
We may each wreathed in the others Arms,
(Our Paltimes done) possess a Golden slumber,
Whilft Hounds and Horns, and sweet melodious Birds
Be unto us, as is a Nurse's Song
Of Lullaby, to bring her Babe asleep.

Aar. 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 unrowl
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 muft lose her Tongue to Day,
Thy Sons rake Pillage of her Chastity,
And wash their Hands in Baffianus's Blood.
Seelt thou this Letter, take it up I pray thee,
And give the King this fatal plotted Scrowl;
Now question me no more, we are espied,
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful Booty,
Which dreads not yet their Lives destruction,

Enter Ballianus and Lavinia.
Tam. Ah, my sweet Moor,
Sweeter to me than Lifi.

Aar. No more, great Empress, Bassianus comes;
Be c:ofs with him, and I'll go fetch thy Sons
To back thy Quarrels, whatsoe'er they be.

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Baf. Whom have we here?
Rome's Royal Empress!
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 ?

Tam. Sawcy Controller of our private Steps:
Had I the Power that some say Dian had,
Thy Temples should be planted presently
With Horns, as was Acteon's, and the Hounds
Should drive upon thy new transformed Limb,
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art.

Lav. Under your Patience, gentle Empress,
'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in Horning,
And to be doubted, that your Moor and you
And singled forth to try Experiments :
Jove shield your Husband from his Hounds to Day,
'Tis picy they should take him for a Stag.

Bas. Believe me, Queen, your swarth Cymmerian
Doth make your Honour of his Body's hue,
Sported, derested and abominable.
Why are you sequestred from all


Train? Dismounted from your Snow-white goodly Steed, And wandred hither to an obscure plot, Accompanied with a barbarous Moor,

a If foul defire had not conduded you?

Lav. And being interrupted 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 palling well.

Baf. The King my Brother shall have notice of this.

Lav. Ay, for these lips have made him noted long.
Good King, to be so mightily abused.
Tam. Why have I patience to endure all this?

Enter Chiron and Demetrius.
Dem. How now, dear Sovereign
And our gracious Mother,
Why does your Highness look fo pale and wan?

Tam. Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have tic'd me hither to this place,


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A barren and detested Vale you see it is.
The Trees, tho' Summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with Moss, and baleful Miffelto.
Here never shines the Sun, here nothing breeds,
Unless the nightly Owl, or fatal Raven.
And when they shew'd me this abhorred Pit,
They told me, here at dead time of the Night,
A thousand Fiends, a thousand hisling Snakes,
Ten thousand swelling Toads, as many Urchins,
Would make fuch 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 streight 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 callid me foul Adulteress,
Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
That ever Ears did hear to such effect.
And had you not by wondrous fortune come, 6
This Vengeance on me had they executed :
Revenge it, as you love your Mother's Life, ,
Or be ye not henceforth calld my Children.

Dem. This is a witness that I am thy Son.

Chi. And this for me,
Struck home to thew my Strength.

Lav. I come, Semiramis, nay barbarous Tamora,
For no Name fits thy Nature but thy own.

Tam. Give me thy Poniard; you thall know, my Boys,
Your Mother's Hand shall right your Mother's wrong.

Dem. Stay, Madam, here is more belongs to her,
Firlt, thrash the Corn, then after burn the Straw:
This Minion stood upon her Chastity,
Upon her Nuptial Vow, her Loyalty,
And with that painted hope the braves your Mightiness;
And shall she carry this unto her Grave?

Chi. And if she do,
I would I were an Eunuch.
Diag hence her Husband to some secret Hole,
And make his dead Trunk Pillow to our Luft.

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(Stabs Baf.

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Tam. But when you have the Honey you desire,
Let not this Wasp out-live us both to sting.

Chi. I warrant you, Madam, we will make that sure;
Come Mistress, now per force we will enjoy
That nice-preserved honesty of yours. .

Lav. O Tamora, thou bear'ít a Woman's Face-
Tam. I will not hear her speak; away with her.
Lav. Sweet Lords, intreat her hear me but a Word-

Dem. Listen, fair Madam, let ic be your glory
To see her Tears; but be your Heart to them,
As unrelenting Flints to drops of Rain,

Lav. When did the Tyger's young ones teach the Dama?
O do not learn her Wrath, she taught it thee,
The Milk thou fuck'st from her did turn to Marble ;
Even at thy Teat thou hads thy Tyranny:
Yet every Mother breeds not Sons alike;
Do thou intreat her, Mew a Woman Pity.

Chi. What !
Wouldst thou have me prove my self a Bastard ?

Lav. 'Tis true,
The Raven doth not hatch a Lark:
Yęt have I heard, O could I find it now,
The Lion, mov’d with Pity, did endure
To have his Princely Paws par'd all away.
Some say, that Ravens foster forlorn Children,
The whilft their own Birds famish in their Nefts:
Oh be to me, tho' thy hard Heart say no,
Nothing to kind, but something pitiful.

Tam. I know not what it means; away with her.

Lav. Oh let me teach thee for my Father's fake,
That gave thec Life, when well he might have slain thee:
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf Ears.

Tam. Hadit thou in Person ne'er offended me,
Even for his fake am I now pitiless :
Remember, Boys, I pour'd forth l'ears in vain,
To save your Brother from the Sacrifice ;
But fierce Andronicus would not relent:
Therefore away with her, and use her as you will,
The worse to her, the better lord of me.

Lav. 0 Tamora,
Be calld a gentle Queen,


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And with thine own Hands kill me in this place ;
For 'tis not Life that I have begg'd so long;
Poor I was slain when Basianus dy'd.

Tam. What begg'st thou then? Fond Woman, let me go.

Lav. 'Tis present Death I beg, and one thing more,
That Womanhood denies my Tongue to tell:
O keep me from their worse than killing Luft,
And tumble me into some loathsom Pit,
Where never Man's Eye may behold my Body: :
Do this, and be a charitable Murderer.

Tam. So should I rob my sweet Sons of their Fee,
No, let them satisfie their Lust on thee.

Dem. Away:
For thou hast staid us here too long.

Lav. No Grace?
No Woman-hood? Ah beastly Creature,
The blot and Enemy of our general Name;
Confusion all-

Chi. Nay, then I'll stop your Mouth
Bring thou her Husband: [Dragging off Lavinia.
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Exeunt.

Tam. Farewel, my Sons, see that ye make her sure;
Ne'er let my Heart know merry Cheer indeed,
Till all the Andronici be made away:
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful Sons this Trull deflour. [Exit.

Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Marcus.
Aaron. Come on, my Lords, the better Foot before,
Strait will I bring you to the loathsom Pit,
Where I espied the Panther fast alleep.

Quix. My sight is very dull, what e'er it bodes.
Mar. And mine, I promise you; were it not for shame,

Well could I leave our Sport to sleep a while.

[Marcus falls into the Pit.
Quin. What, art thou fallen?
What fubile Hole is this,
Whose Mouth is covered with rude growing Briars?
Upon whose Leaves are drops of new-shed Blood,
As fresh as Morning Dew distillid on Flowers?
A very fatal Place it seems to me:
Speak, Brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
i Mar. O Biother,


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