But let them hear what fearful words I utter.

O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!

Here stands the spring whom you have stained with

mud,

This goodly summer with your winter mixed.

You killed her husband, and for that vile fault

Two of her brothers were condemned to death,

My hand cut off and made a merry jest,

Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more

dear

Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,

Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced.

What would you say if I should let you speak?

Villains, for shame. You could not beg for grace.

Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.

This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,

Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold

The basin that receives your guilty blood.

You know your mother means to feast with me,

And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad.

Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust,

And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste,

And of the paste a coffin I will rear,

And make two pasties of your shameful heads,

And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam,

Like to the earth swallow her own increase.

This is the feast that I have bid her to,

And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;

For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,

And worse than Progne I will be revenged.

And now, prepare your throats. Lavinia, come.

Receive the blood, and when that they are dead

Let me go grind their bones to powder small,

And with this hateful liquor temper it,

And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.

Come, come, be everyone officious

To make this banquet, which I wish may prove

More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast.

He cuts their throats

So, now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook

And see them ready against their mother comes.

Exeunt carrying the bodies

5.3 Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths, with Aaron, prisoner, ⌈and an attendant with his child⌉

LUCIUS

Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind

That I repair to Rome, I am content.

A GOTH

And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.

LUCIUS

Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,

This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil.

Let him receive no sust’nance, fetter him

Till he be brought unto the Empress’ face

For testimony of her foul proceedings,

And see the ambush of our friends be strong.

I fear the Emperor means no good to us.

AARON

Some devil whisper curses in my ear

And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth

The venomous malice of my swelling heart.

LUCIUS

Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!

Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.

⌈Exeunt Goths with Aaron and his child⌉

Flourish

The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.

Enter Saturninus the Emperor, and Tamora the

Empress, with Aemilius, Tribunes, Senators, and

others

SATURNINUS

What, hath the firmament more suns than one?

LUCIUS

What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?

MARCUS

Rome’s emperor and nephew, break the parle.

These quarrels must be quietly debated.

The feast is ready which the careful Titus

Hath ordained to an honourable end,

For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome.

Please you therefore draw nigh, and take your places.

SATURNINUS Marchs, we will.

⌈Hautboys. A table brought in.⌉ They sit.

Enter Titus like a cook, placing the dishes, and

Lavinia with a veil over her face; ⌈young Lucius,

and others⌉

TITUS

Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread Queen;

Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;

And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor,

‘Twill fill your stomachs. Please you, eat of it.

SATURNINUS

Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?

TITUS

Because I would be sure to have all well

To entertain your highness and your Empress.

TAMORA

We are beholden to you, good Andronicus.

TITUS

An if your highness knew my heart, you were.

My lord the Emperor, resolve me this:

Was it well done of rash Virginius

To slay his daughter with his own right hand

Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?

SATURNINUS

It was, Andronicus.

TITUS

Your reason, mighty lord?

SATURNINUS

Because the girl should not survive her shame,

And by her presence still renew his sorrows.

TITUS

A reason mighty, strong, effectual;

A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant

For me, most wretched, to perform the like.

Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee,

And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die.

⌈He kills her⌉

SATURNINUS

What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?

TITUS

Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind.

I am as woeful as Virginius was,

And have a thousand times more cause than he

To do this outrage, and it now is done.

SATURNINUS

What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.

TITUS

Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your highness feed?

TAMORA

Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?