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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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SCENE VIII. Enter the Emperor, and Aaron.

Sat.
Along, with me—I'll see what hole is here,
And what he is, that now is leap'd into't.
Say, who art thou, that lately didst descend
Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

Mar.
Th' unhappy son of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,
To find thy brother Bassianus dead.

Sat.
My brother dead? I know, thou dost but jest:
He and his lady both are at the Lodge,
Upon the north-side of this pleasant chase;
'Tis not an hour since I left him there.

Mar.
We know not where you left him all alive,
But out, alas! here have we found him dead.
Enter Tamora with Attendants; Andronicus, and Lucius.

Tam.
Where is my lord, the King?

-- 276 --

Sat.
Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.

Tam.
Where is thy brother Bassianus?

Sat.
Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound;
Poor Bassianus here lies murthered.

Tam.
Then all too late I bring this fatal Writ,
The complot of this timeless tragedy;
And wonder greatly, that man's face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
[She giveth Saturninus a letter.

Saturninus reads the letter.

And if we miss to meet him handsomly,
Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean;
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him,
Thou know'st our meaning: look for thy reward
Among the nettles at the elder-tree,
Which over-shades the mouth of that same pit,
Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
Oh, Tamora! was ever heard the like?
This is the pit, and this the elder-tree:
Look, Sirs, if you can find the huntsman out,
That should have murther'd Bassianus here.

Aar.
My gracious lord here is the bag of gold.

Sat.
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
Have here bereft my brother of his life. [To Titus.
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison,
There let them bide, until we have devis'd
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.

Tam.
What, are they in this pit? oh wondrous thing!
How easily murder is discovered?

Tit.
High Emperor, upon my feeble knee
I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,

-- 277 --


That this fell fault of my accursed sons,
(Accursed, if the fault be prov'd in them—)

Sat.
If it be prov'd! you see, it is apparent.
Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?

Tam.
Andronicus himself did take it up.

Tit.
I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail.
For by my father's reverend tomb, I vow,
They shall be ready at your Highness' will,
To answer their suspicion with their lives.

Sat.
Thou shalt not bail them: see, thou follow me:
Some bring the murder'd body, some the murtherers.
Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain;
For by my soul, were there worse end than death,
That end upon them should be executed.

Tam.
Andronicus, I will entreat the King;
Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough.

Tit.
Come, Lucius, come, stay not to talk with them.
[Exeunt severally.
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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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