Baf. Whom have we here?
Rome's Royal Emprefs!
Unfurnish'd of her well-befeeming Troop?
Or is it Dian habited like her,
Who hath abandoned her holy Groves,
To fee the general Hunting in this Forest?
Tam. Sawcy Controller of our private Steps:
Had I the Power that fome fay Dian had,
Thy Temples should be planted prefently
With Horns, as was Acteon's, and the Hounds
Should drive upon thy new transformed Limbs,'
Unmannerly Intruder as thou art.
Lav. Under your Patience, gentle Emprefs,
'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in Horning,
And to be doubted, that your Moor and you
Are fingled forth to try Experiments:
Jove fhield your Husband from his Hounds to Day,
Tis pity they should take him for a Stag.
Baf. Believe me, Queen, your fwarth Cymmerian
Doth make your Honour of his Body's hue,
Spotted, detefted and abominable.
Why are you fequeftred from all your Train?
Difmounted from your Snow-white goodly Steed,
And wandred hither to an obfcure plot,
Accompanied with a barbarous Moor,
If foul defire had not conducted you?
Lav. And being interrupted in your sport,
Great reason that my Noble Lord be rated
For Saucinefs; I pray you let us hence,
And let her joy her Raven-coloured Love,
This Valley fits the purpose paffing well.
Baf. The King my Brother fhall have notice of this.
Lav. Ay, for thefe flips have made him noted long,
Good King, to be fo mightily abused.
Tam. Why have I patience to endure all this?
Enter Chiron and Demetrius.
Dem. How now, dear Sovereign
And our gracious Mother,
Why does your Highnefs look fo pale and wan?
Tam. Have I not reafon, think you, to look pale?
These two have tic'd me hither to this place,
A barren and detested Vale you fee it is.
The Trees, tho' Summer, yet forlorn and lean,
O'ercome with Mofs, and baleful Miffelto.
Here never shines the Sun, here nothing breeds,
Unless the nighly Owl, or fatal Raven.
And when they fhew'd me this abhorred Pit,
They told me, here at dead time of the Night,
A thousand Fiends, a thousand hiffing Snakes,
Ten thousand fwelling Toads, as many Urchins,
Would make such fearful and confufed Cries,
As any mortal Body hearing it,
Should ftraight fall mad, or elfe die fuddenly.
No fooner had they told this hellish Tale,
But ftreight they told me they would bind me here,
Unto the Body of a difmal Yew,
And leave me to this miferable Death.
And then they call'd me foul Adulterefs,
Lafcivious Goth, and all the bittereft terms
That ever Ears did hear to fuch 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 ye not henceforth call'd Children.
Dem. This is a witness that I am thy Son.
Chi. And this for me,
Struck home to fhew my Strength.
Lav. I come, Semiramis, nay barbarous Tamora, For no Name fits thy Nature but thy own.
Tam. Give me thy Poinard; you fhall know, my Boys,
Your Mother's Hand fhall 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 ftood upon her Chastity,
Upon her Nuptial Vow, her Loyalty,
And with that painted hope the braves your Mightiness;
And fhall the carry this unto her Grave?
Chi. And if the do,
I would I were an Eunuch.
Drag hence her Husband to fome fecret Hole,
And make his dead Trunk Pillow to our Luft.
Tam. But when you have the Honey you defire, Let not this Wafp out-live us both to fting.
Chi. I warrant you, Madam, we will make that fure;
Come Mistress, now per force we will enjoy,
That nice-preferved honefty of yours.
Lav. O Tamora, thou bear'ft a Woman's Face-
Tam. I will not hear her fpeak; away with her.
Lav. Sweet Lords, intreat her hear me but a word-
Dem. Liften, fair Madam, let it be your glory
To fee her Tears; but be your Heart to them,
As unrelenting Flints to drops of Rain.
Lav. When did the Tygers young-ones teach the Dam? O do not learn her wrath, the taught it thee,
The Milk thou fuck'it from her did turn to Marble;
Even at thy Teat thou hadft thy Tyranny:
Yet every Mother breeds not Sons alike;
Do thou intreat her, fhew a Woman pity.
Chi. What!
Wouldst thou have me prove my self a Bastard?
The Raven doth not hatch a Lark:
Yet have I heard, O could I find it now,
The Lion mov'd with pity, did endure
To have his Princely Paws par'd all away.
Some fay, that Ravens fofter forlorn Children,
The whilft their own Birds famifh in their Nefts:
Oh be to me, tho' thy hard Heart fay no,
Nothing fo kind, but fomething pitiful.
Tam. I know not what it means; away with her.
Lav. Oh let me teach thee for my Father's fake,
That gave thee Life, when well he might have flain thee:
Be not obdurate, open thy deaf Ears.
Tam. Hadft thou in Perfon ne'er offended me,
Even for his fake am I now pitiless:
Remember, Boys, I pour'd forth Tears in vain,
To fave your Brother from the Sacrifice;
But fierce Andronicus would not relent:
Therefore away with her, and ufe her as you will,
The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.
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 fo long;
Poor I was flain when Baffianus dy'd.
Tam. What begg'ft thou then? Fond Woman, let me go. Lav. 'Tis prefent Death I beg, and one thing more, That Womanhood denies my Tongue to tell:
O keep me from their worse than killing Luft,
And tumble me into fome loathfom Pit,
Where never Man's Eye may behold my Body:
Do this, and be a charitable Murderer.
Tam. So fhould I rob my fweet Sons of their Fee, No, let them fatisfie their Luft on thee.
For thou haft ftaid us here too long.
No Woman-hood? Ah beaftly Creature,
The blot and Enemy of our general Name;
Confufion all-
Chi. Nay, then I'll ftop your Mouth-
Bring thou her Husband:
[Dragging off Lavinia. [Exeunt. Tam. Farewel, my Sons, fee that ye make her fure; Ne'er let my Heart know merry Cheer indeed, Till all the Andronici be made away: Now will I hence to feck my lovely Moor, And let my fpleenful Sons this Trull deflour.
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Marcus.
Aaron. Come on, my Lords, the better Foot before, Strait will I bring you to the loathfom Pit,
Where I efpied the Panther faft afleep.
Quin. My fight is very dull, what e'er it bodes.
Mar. And mine, I promise you; were it not for fhame,
Well could I leave our Sport to fleep a while.
Quin. What art thou fallen?
What fubtle Hole is this,
[Marcus falls into the Pit.
Whofe Mouth is covered with rude growing Briars ?
Upon whofe Leaves are drops of new-fhed Blood,
As fresh as Morning-Dew diftill'd on Flowers ?
A very fatal Place it feems to me :
Speak, Brother, haft thou hurt thee with the fall?
Mar. O Brother,
With the difmal'st Object
That ever Eye, with fight, made Heart lament.
Aar. Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
That he thereby may have a likely guefs,
How these were they that made away his Brother.
Mar. Why doft not comfort me, and help me out,
From this unhallow'd and blood-ftained Hole ?
Quin. I am furprized with an uncouth fear;
A killing Sweat o'er-runs my trembling Joints;
My Heart fufpects more than mine Eye can fee.
Mar To prove thou haft a true divining Heart,
Aaron and thou, look down into the Den,
And fee a fearful fight of Blood and Death.
Quin. Aaron is gone,
And my compaffionate Heart
Will not permit mine Eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by furmise:
O tell me how it is; for ne'er till now,
Was I a Child, to fear I know not what.
Mar. Lord Baffianus lyes embrewed here,
All on a heap, like to the flaughter'd Lamb,
In this detefted, dark, blood-drinking Pit.
Quin. If it be dark, how do'st thou know 'tis he?
Mar. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole:
Which like a Taper in fome Monument,
Doth fhine upon the dead Man's earthly Cheeks,
And fhews the ragged intrails of the Pit.
So pale did fhine the Moon on Pyramus,
When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden-blood.
O Brother help me, with thy fainting Hand;
If Fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath,
Out of this fell devouring Receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus mifty Mouth.
Quin. Reach me thy Hand, that I may help thee out,
Or wanting ftrength, to do thee fo much good,
I may be pluck'd into the fwallowing Womb
Of this deep Pit, poor Baffianus Grave:
I have no ftrength to pluck thee to the brink.
Mar. Nor I no ftrength to climb without thy help.
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