Tit. Good Lord how like the Empresse Sons they are, And you the Empresse: But we worldly men, Haue miserable mad mistaking eyes: Oh sweet Reuenge, now do I come to thee, And if one armes imbracement will content thee, I will imbrace thee in it by and by
Tam. This closing with him, fits his Lunacie, What ere I forge to feede his braine-sicke fits, Do you vphold, and maintaine in your speeches, For now he firmely takes me for Reuenge, And being Credulous in this mad thought, Ile make him send for Lucius his Sonne, And whil'st I at a Banquet hold him sure, Ile find some cunning practise out of hand To scatter and disperse the giddie Gothes, Or at the least make them his Enemies: See heere he comes, and I must play my theame
Tit. Long haue I bene forlorne, and all for thee, Welcome dread Fury to my woefull house, Rapine and Murther, you are welcome too, How like the Empresse and her Sonnes you are. Well are you fitted, had you but a Moore, Could not all hell afford you such a deuill? For well I wote the Empresse neuer wags; But in her company there is a Moore, And would you represent our Queene aright It were conuenient you had such a deuill: But welcome as you are, what shall we doe? Tam. What would'st thou haue vs doe Andronicus? Dem. Shew me a Murtherer, Ile deale with him
Chi. Shew me a Villaine that hath done a Rape, And I am sent to be reueng'd on him
Tam. Shew me a thousand that haue done thee wrong, And Ile be reuenged on them all
Tit. Looke round about the wicked streets of Rome, And when thou find'st a man that's like thy selfe, Good Murder stab him, hee's a Murtherer. Goe thou with him, and when it is thy hap To finde another that is like to thee, Good Rapine stab him, he is a Rauisher. Go thou with them, and in the Emperours Court, There is a Queene attended by a Moore, Well maist thou know her by thy owne proportion, For vp and downe she doth resemble thee. I pray thee doe on them some violent death, They haue bene violent to me and mine
Tam. Well hast thou lesson'd vs, this shall we do. But would it please thee good Andronicus, To send for Lucius thy thrice Valiant Sonne, Who leades towards Rome a Band of Warlike Gothes, And bid him come and Banquet at thy house. When he is heere, euen at thy Solemne Feast, I will bring in the Empresse and her Sonnes, The Emperour himselfe, and all thy Foes, And at thy mercy shall they stoop, and kneele, And on them shalt thou ease, thy angry heart: What saies Andronicus to this deuise? Enter Marcus.
Tit. Marcus my Brother, 'tis sad Titus calls, Go gentle Marcus to thy Nephew Lucius, Thou shalt enquire him out among the Gothes, Bid him repaire to me, and bring with him Some of the chiefest Princes of the Gothes, Bid him encampe his Souldiers where they are, Tell him the Emperour, and the Empresse too, Feasts at my house, and he shall Feast with them, This do thou for my loue, and so let him, As he regards his aged Fathers life
Mar. This will I do, and soone returne againe
Tam. Now will I hence about thy businesse, And take my Ministers along with me
Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me, Or els Ile call my Brother backe againe, And cleaue to no reuenge but Lucius
Tam. What say you Boyes, will you bide with him, Whiles I goe tell my Lord the Emperour, How I haue gouern'd our determined iest? Yeeld to his Humour, smooth and speake him faire, And tarry with him till I turne againe
Tit. I know them all, though they suppose me mad, And will ore-reach them in their owne deuises, A payre of cursed hell-hounds and their Dam