Tit.
The Hunt is up, the morn is bright and gray;
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 rouze 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 tend 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.

Tit.
Many good morrows to your Majesty;
Madam, to you as many and as good.
I promised your Grace a hunter's peal.

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

Bas.
Lavinia, how say you?

Lav.
I say, no:
I have been broad awake two hours and more.

Sat.
Come on then, horse and chariots let us have,
And to our sport: Madam, now ye shall see
Our Roman Hunting.

Mar.
I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouze the proudest Panther in the chase,
And climb the highest promontory-top.

Tit.
And I have horse will follow, where the game
Makes way, and run like Swallows o'er the plain.

Dem.
Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound;
But hope to pluck a dainty Doe to ground. [Exeunt.

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