Aar.
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 villany:
And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest,
That have their alms out of the empress' chest. Enter Tamora.

Tam.
My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
The birds chaunt melody on every bush;
The snake lies rowled in the chearful 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,—whilst the babling 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 yelling noise:
And,—after conflict, such as was suppos'd
The wandering 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 other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;
While hounds, and horns, and sweet melodious birds,
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep* ^note.

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?
&blquo;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.
See'st thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee,
And give the king this fatal-plotted scrowl:
Now question me no more, we are espy'd;
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. Enter Bassianus, and Lavinia.

Tam.
Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!

Aar.
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 Aaron.

Bas.
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?

Tam.
Saucy controuler of our private steps!
Had I the power, that, some say, Dian had,
Thy temples should be planted presently
With horns, as were Actæon's; and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
Unmannerly intruder as thou art!

Lav.
Under your patience, gentle emperess,
'Tis thought, you have a goodly gift in horning;
And to be doubted, that your Moor and you
Are singl'd forth to try experiments;
Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day!

'Tis pity they should take him for a stag* ^note.

Bas.
Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian
Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
Why are you sequester'd from all your train?
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
And wander'd hither to an obscure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moor,
If foul desire had not conducted you?

Lav.
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-colour'd love† ^note;
This valley fits the purpose passing well.

Bas.
The king my brother shall have note of this.

Lav.
Ay, for these slips have made him noted long:
Good king! to be so mightily abus'd!

Tam.
Why have I patience to endure all this? Enter Chiron and Demetrius.

Dem.
How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother?
Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?

Tam.
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have 'tic'd me hither to this place:
A bare detested vale, you see, it is;
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean.
O'ercome with moss, and baleful misselto:
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 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 not henceforth call'd my childeren.

Dem.
This is a witness, that I am thy son.

Chi.
And this for me, strook home to shew my strength. [Stabbing suddenly Bassianus; who falls.

Lav.
I, come, Semiramis;—nay, barbarous Tamora;
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!

Tam.
Give me thy poniard;—you shall know, my boys,
Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.

Dem.
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 vow, her loyalty,
And with that paint now braves your mightiness:
And shall she carry this unto her grave?

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
&blquo;Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
&blquo;And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.

&blquo;Tam.
&blquo;But, when you have the honey you desire,
&blquo;Let not this wasp out-live, us both to sting.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;I warrant you, madam; we will make that sure.—
&blquo;Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
&blquo;That nice-preserved honesty of yours.

Lav.
O, Tamora! thou bear'st 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 it be your glory,
To see her tears; but be your heart to them,
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.

&blquo;Lav.
&blquo;When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
&blquo;O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee:
&blquo;The milk thou suck'st from her, did turn to marble;
&blquo;E'en at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.—
&blquo;Yet every mother breeds not sons alike;
&blquo;Do thou intreat her shew a woman pity.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;What, would'st thou have me prove myself a bastard?

&blquo;Lav.
&blquo;'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:
&blquo;Yet have I heard (O, could I find it now!)
&blquo;The lion, mov'd with pity, did endure
&blquo;To have his princely paws par'd all away.
&blquo;Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
&blquo;The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:
&blquo;O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
&blquo;Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!

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

Lav.
O, let me teach thee; for my father's sake,—
That gave thee life, when well he might have slain thee,—
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.

Tam.
Had'st thou in person ne'er offended me,
Even for his sake am I now pitiless:—
Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain,
To save your brother from the sacrifice;
But fierce Andronicus would not relent:
Therefore away with her, use her as you will;
The worse to her, the better lov'd of me * ^note.

Lav.
O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
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 Bassianus dy'd.

Tam.
What begg'st thou then? fond woman, let me go.

&blquo;Lav.
&blquo;'Tis present death, I beg; and one thing more,

&blquo;That womanhood denies my tongue to tell;
&blquo;O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust;
&blquo;And tumble me into some loathsom pit,
&blquo;Where never man's eye may behold my body:
&blquo;Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

&blquo;Tam.
&blquo;So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:
&blquo;No, let them satisfy their lust on thee† ^note.

Dem.
Away; for thou hast stay'd us here too long.

Lav.
No grace? no womanhood? Ah beastly creature!
The blot and enemy to our general name!
Confusion fall,—

Chi.
Nay, then I'll stop your mouth:—Bring thou her husband;
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Dem. throws the body of Bas. into the pit; Exeunt he and Chi. dragging off Lav.

Tam.
Farewel, my sons: see, that you make her sure.—
Ne'er let my heart know merry chear indeed,
'Till all the Andronici be made away‡ ^note.
Now will I hence, to seek my lovely Moor;
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflour. [Exit.

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