Boy. ^note
Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
Follows me every where, I know not why:
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.

Marc.
Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine ^note aunt.

Tit.
She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.

Boy.
Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.

Marc.
What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?

Tit.
Fear her not ^note, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:
See ^note, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee:
Somewhither ^note would she have thee go with her.
Ah, ^note boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her sons than she hath read ^note to thee
Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator ^note.

Marc. ^note
Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?

Boy.
My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless some fit or ^note frenzy do possess her:
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs ^note would make men mad;
And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad for ^note sorrow: that made me to fear;
Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:
Which made me down to throw my books and fly,
Causeless perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:
And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I wil ^notel most willingly attend your ladyship.

Marc.
Lucius, I will. [Lavinia ^note turns over with her stumps the books which Lucius has let fall.

Tit.
How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?
Some book there is that she desires to see.
Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.

But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd:
Come, and take ^note choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens ^note
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?

Marc.
I think she means that there were ^note more than one
Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was;
Or else to heaven she heaves them for ^note revenge.

Tit.
Lucius, what book is that she tosseth ^note so?

Boy.
Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses ^note:
My mother gave it me.

Marc.
For love of her that's gone,
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.

Tit.
Soft! so ^note busily she turns the leaves!
Help her: ^note
What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape;
And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.

Marc.
See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.

Tit.
Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was,
Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
See, see!
Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt ^note—
O, had we never, never hunted there!—
Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.

Marc.
O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies? ^note

Tit.
Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:
Or slunk ^note not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst ^note,
That left the camp to sin ^note in Lucrece' bed? ^note

Marc.
Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.
Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
Inspire me, that I may this treason find!
My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This after me. [He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with feet ^note and mouth. ^{note note}] I ^note have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.
Cursed be that ^note heart ^note that forced us to this ^note shift!
Write thou, good niece; and here display at last ^note
What God will have discovered ^note for revenge:
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
That we may know the traitors and the truth! [She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes.

Tit. ^note
O, do ye ^note read, my lord, what she hath writ ^note?
‘Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.’

Marc.
What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora
Performers of this heinous ^note, bloody deed?

Tit.
Magni Dominator ^note poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

Marc.
O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know

There is enough written upon this earth
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts
And arm the minds of infants to exclaims ^note.
My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
And swear with me, as, with the woful fere ^note
And father of that chaste dishonour'd ^note dame,
Lord Junius Brutus sware ^note for Lucrece' rape,
That we will prosecute by good advice ^note
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or ^note die with this reproach.

Tit.
'Tis sure enough, an ^note you knew how ^note.
But if you hunt ^note these bear-whelps, then beware:
The ^note dam will wake; and if she wind you once, ^note
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth ^note on her back,
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
You are ^note a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone ^note;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by: the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,
And where's your ^note lesson then? Boy, what say you?

Boy.
I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

Marc.
Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft
For his ^note ungrateful country done the like.

Boy.
And, uncle, so will I, an if ^note I live.

Tit.
Come, go with me into mine ^note armoury;
Lucius, I'll fit thee, and withal, my boy
Shall ^note carry from ^note me to the empress' sons
Presents that I intend to send them both:
Come, come; thou'lt do thy ^note message, wilt thou not?

Boy.
Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms ^note, grandsire.

Tit.
No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee ^note another course.
Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house:
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt ^note Titus, Lavinia, and Young Lucius.

Marc.
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield,
But yet ^note so just that he will not revenge.
Revenge, ye heavens, ^note for old Andronicus! [Exit. ^note Scene II. [Footnote: The same. A room in the palace. ^note Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door; and at another door, young Lucius, and an Attendant ^note, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.

Chi.
Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;

He hath some message to deliver us.

Aar.
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

Boy.
My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
I greet your honours from Andronicus. [Aside ^note]
And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

Dem.
Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what's ^note the news?

Boy. [Aside ^note]
That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, ^note
For villains ^note mark'd with rape.—May it please you,
My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bid ^note me say;
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that ^note, whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both, [Aside ^note] like bloody ^note villains. [Exeunt ^note Boy and Attendant.

Dem.
What's here? A scroll, and written round about!
Let's see:

[Reads]
‘Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,
Non eget ^note Mauri ^note jaculis, nec arcu ^note.’

Chi.
O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:
I read it in the grammar long ago.

Aar.
Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it. [Aside]
Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
Here's no sound ^note jest: the old man hath found their guilt,
And sends them ^note weapons wrapp'd about with lines,
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.

But were our witty empress well afoot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit:
But let her rest in her unrest awhile ^note.—
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's ^note hearing.

Dem.
But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.

Aar.
Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

Dem.
I would we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our ^note lust.

Chi.
A charitable wish and full of love.

Aar.
Here ^note lacks ^note but your ^note mother for to say ^note amen.

Chi.
And that would she for twenty thousand more.

Dem.
Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods
For our beloved mother in her pains.

Aar. [Aside ^note]
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over. [Trumpets sound within. ^note

Dem.
Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

Chi.
Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

Dem.
Soft! who comes here? ^noteEnter ^note Nurse, with a blackamoor Child.

Nur.
Good morrow, lords:
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor? ^note

Aar.
Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

Nur.
O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

Aar.
Why, what a caterwauling ^note dost thou keep!
What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?

Nur.
O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
Our empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace!
She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver'd ^note.

Aar.
To whom? ^note

Nur.
I mean, she is brought a-bed ^note.

Aar.
Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her ^note?

Nur.
A devil.

Aar.
Why, then she is the devil's dam;
A joyful issue ^{note note}.

Nur.
A joyless, dismal, black and sorrowful issue:
Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fairest breeders ^note of our clime:
The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.

Aar.
'Zounds, ye ^note whore! is black so base a hue?
Sweet blowse ^note, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

Dem.
Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar.
That ^note which thou canst not undo.

Chi.
Thou hast undone our mother.

Aar.
Villain, I have ^note done thy mother. ^note

Dem.
And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her. ^note
Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!
Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!

Chi.
It shall not live.

Aar.
It shall not die ^note.

Nur.
Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.

Aar.
What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I
Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Dem.
I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:
Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.

Aar.
Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. [Takes ^note the Child from the Nurse, and draws.
Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my scimitar's ^note sharp point
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey ^note out of his father's hands.
What, what, ye sanguine ^note, shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-limed ^note walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns ^note to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white ^note,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the empress from me, I am of age ^note
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.

Dem.
Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?

Aar.
My mistress is my mistress, this myself,
The vigour and the picture of my youth:
This before all the world do I prefer;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

Dem.
By this our mother is for ever shamed.

Chi.
Rome will despise her for this foul escape.

Nur.
The emperor in his rage will doom her death.

Chi.
I blush to think upon this ignomy ^note.

Aar.
Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counsels of the heart ^note!
Here's a young lad framed of another leer:
Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father,
As who should say ‘Old lad, I am thine own.’
He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;
And from that ^note womb where you imprison'd ^note were
He is enfranchised and come to light:
Nay, he is ^note your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.

Nur.
Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress? ^note

Dem.
Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice ^note:
Save thou the child, so we may all be ^note safe.

Aar.
Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
My son and I will have the wind of you:
Keep there: now talk at pleasure of your safety. [They sit. ^note

Dem.
How many women saw this child of his?

Aar.
Why, so, brave lords! when ^note we ^note join in league,

I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as ^note Aaron storms.
But say, again, how many saw the child? ^note

Nur.
Cornelia the midwife and myself;
And no one ^note else but the deliver'd ^note empress.

Aar.
The empress, the midwife, and yourself:
Two may keep counsel when the ^note third's away:
Go to the empress, tell her this I said. [He kills the Nurse. ^note
Weke, weke!
So cries a pig prepared ^note to the spit ^note.

Dem.
What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this? ^note

Aar.
O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no:
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus ^note, my countryman,
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;
His child is like to her, fair as you are:
Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumstance of all;
And how by this their child shall ^note be advanced,
And be received ^note for the emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling ^note in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.

Hark ye, lords ^note; you see ^note I ^note have given her physic, [Pointing to the Nurse. ^note
And you must needs bestow her funeral;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, see that you take no longer days ^note,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please ^note.

Chi.
Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
With secrets ^note.

Dem.
For this care of Tamora,
Herself and hers are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt ^note Dem. and Chi. bearing off the Nurse's body.

Aar.
Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies;
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
And secretly to greet the empress' friends,
Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;
For it is you that puts ^note us to our shifts:
I'll make you feed ^{note note} on berries and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
To be a warrior and command a camp. [Exit.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: The same. A public place. ^note Enter ^note Titus, bearing arrows with letters at the ends of them; with him, Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen (Publius, Sempronius, and Caius) ^note, with bows.

Tit.
Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, ^note this is the way.
Sir boy, let ^note me see your archery;
Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
Terras Astræa reliquit:
Be you ^note remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
Sirs ^note, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
Happily ^note you may catch ^note her in the sea ^note;
Yet there's as little justice as at land:
No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth:
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you, deliver him ^note this petition;
Tell him, it is for justice and for aid,
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome! Well, well; I made thee miserable

What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.

Marc.
O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?

Pub. ^note
Therefore, my lord ^note, it highly us concerns
By day and night to attend him carefully,
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.

Marc.
Kinsmen ^note, his sorrows are past remedy.
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit.
Publius, how now! how now, my masters!
What, have ^note you met with her?

Pub. ^note
No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall:
Marry, for Justice, she is so ^note employ'd,
He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

Tit.
He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I'll dive into the burning lake below,
And pull her out of Acheron ^note by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size;
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs ^note can bear:
And sith there's no justice ^note in earth nor ^note hell,
We will solicit heaven, and move the gods

To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
Come, to ^note this gear. You are ^note a good archer, Marcus; [He gives them the arrows.
‘Ad Jovem,’ that's for you: here, ‘Ad Apollinem ^note:’
‘Ad Martem,’ that's ^note for myself:
Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury:
To Saturn, Caius ^note, not to Saturnine;
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
To it, boy ^note! Marcus, loose ^note when I bid.
Of my ^note word, I have written to effect;
There's not a god left unsolicited.

Marc.
Kinsmen ^note, shoot all your shafts into the court:
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.

Tit.
Now, masters, draw. [They shoot. ^note] O, well said, Lucius!
Good boy, in ^note Virgo's lap; give it ^note Pallas ^note.

Marc.
My lord, I aim ^note a mile beyond the moon;
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

Tit.
Ha, ha!
Publius, Publius ^note, what hast thou done?
See, see, thou hast ^note shot off one of Taurus' horns.

Marc.
This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;
And who should find them but the empress' villain ^note? ^note

She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present.

Tit.
Why, there it goes: God give his ^note lordship joy! Enter a Clown ^note, with a basket, and two pigeons in it ^note.
News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come. ^note
Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

Clo.

O, ^note the gibbet-maker ^note! he says that he hath ^note taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.

Tit.

But ^note what says Jupiter, I ask thee?

Clo.

Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter ^note; I never drank with him in all my life. ^note

Tit.

Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?

Clo.

Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing ^note else.

Tit.

Why, didst thou not come from heaven?

Clo.

From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there: ^note God forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven ^note in my young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's men.

Marc.

Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the emperor from you.

Tit.

Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace?

Clo.

Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.

Tit.
Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,
But give your pigeons to the emperor:

By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold; meanwhile here's ^note money for thy charges.
Give me pen ^note and ink.
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication?

Clo.

Ay, sir.

Tit.

Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his foot; then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.

Clo.
I warrant you, sir, let me alone.

Tit.
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant:
And when thou hast given it to ^note the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.

Clo.
God be with you, sir; I will. [Exit. ^note

Tit.
Come, Marcus, let us ^note go. Publius, follow me. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: The same. Before ^note the palace. Enter ^note Saturninus, Tamora, Chiron, Demetrius, Lords, and others; Saturninus with the Arrows in his hand that Titus shot.

Sat.
Why, lords, ^note what wrongs are these! was ever seen
An ^note emperor in ^note Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent

Of egal ^note justice used in such contempt? ^note
My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods ^note,
However these ^note disturbers of our peace
Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd
But even with law ^note against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if ^note
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks ^note,
His fits, his frenzy and his bitterness?
And now he writes to heaven for his redress:
See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury;
This to Apollo; this to the god of war:
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
What's this but libelling against the senate,
And blazoning ^note our unjustice ^note every where?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies ^note
Shall be no shelter to these outrages:
But he and his shall know that justice lives
In Saturninus' health ^note; whom ^note, if he sleep,
He'll so awake, as he ^note in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st ^note conspirator that lives.

Tam.
My gracious lord, my lovely ^note Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts ^note,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age ^note,
The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarr'd his heart;

And rather comfort ^note his distressed plight
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts. [Aside ^note] Why, thus it shall become
High-witted Tamora to gloze with all ^note:
But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
Thy ^note life-blood out ^note: if Aaron now be wise, ^note
Then is all safe, the anchor ^note in the port. Enter Clown.
How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us?

Clo.

Yea ^note, forsooth, an ^note your mistership ^note be emperial.

Tam.

Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.

Clo.

'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you god-den ^note: I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here ^note. ^note

Sat.

Go, take him away, and hang him presently. ^note

Clo.

How much money must I have? ^note

Tam.

Come, sirrah, you ^note must be hanged.

Clo.

Hanged! by'r ^note lady, then ^note I have brought up a ^note neck to a fair end.

Sat.
Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
Shall I endure this monstrous villany?

I know from whence this same device ^note proceeds:
May this be borne? As ^note if his traitorous sons,
That died by law for murder of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd ^note wrongfully!
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
Nor age nor honour shall shape ^note privilege:
For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughter-man;
Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me. Enter Æmilius. ^note
What ^note news with thee, Æmilius?

Æmil.
Arm, my lords ^note; Rome never had more cause.
The Goths have gather'd ^note head, and with a power
Of high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under conduct ^note
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
Who threats, in course of this ^note revenge, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.

Sat. ^note
Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths? ^note
These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms:
Ay, now begin ^note our sorrows to approach:
'Tis he the common people love so much;
Myself hath often heard ^note them say ^note,

When I have walked like a private man,
That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
And they have ^note wish'd that Lucius ^note were their emperor.

Tam.
Why should you fear? is not your ^note city strong?

Sat. ^note
Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius,
And will revolt from me to succour him.

Tam.
King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy name.
Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it ^note? ^note
The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings ^note
He can at pleasure stint their melody:
Even so mayst ^note thou the giddy men of Rome.
Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor,
I will enchant the old Andronicus
With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep;
Whenas the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed ^note.

Sat. ^{note note}
But he will not entreat his son for us.

Tam.
If Tamora entreat him, then ^note he will:
For I can smooth ^note, and fill his aged ears ^note
With golden promises; that, were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears ^note deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. [To Æmilius ^note]
Go thou before, be ^note our ambassador:
Say that the emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting

Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus. ^note

Sat. ^{note note}
Æmilius, do this message honourably:
And if he stand on ^note hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.

Æmil.
Your bidding shall I do effectually. [Exit.

Tam.
Now will I to that old Andronicus,
And temper him with all ^note the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices ^note.

Sat.
Then go successantly ^note, and plead ^note to him ^note. [Exeunt. ^note

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