Dem. Why makest thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; [Aside. Dem. Then why should he despair, that knows to court it. With words, fair looks, and liberality? What, hast thou not full often struck a doe, And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? Aar. Why then, it seems, some certain snatch Then should not we be tir'd with this ado. Why, hark ye, hark ye,-And are you such fools, To squaret for this? Would it offend you then Chi. Dem. I'faith, not me. Nor me, So I were one. Aar. For shame, be friends; and join for that you jar. 'Tis policy and stratagem must do That you affect; and so must you resolve; A speedier course than lingering languishment Must we pursue, and I have found the path. There serve your lust, shadow'd from heaven's eye, Chi. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. Dem. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, Per Styga, per manes vehor. By nature. [Exeunt. + Sacred here signifies accursed; a Latinism. SCENE II. A forest near Rome. A lodge seen at a distance. Horns, and cry of hounds heard. Enter Titus Andronicus, with Hunters, &c. Marcus, Lucius, Quintus, and Martius. Tit. The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green : Uncouple here, and let us make a bay, And wake the emperor and his lovely bride, Horns wind a peal. Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and Attendants. Tit. Many good morrows to your majesty ;- Sat. And you have rung it lustily, my lords, Lav. I say, no; I have been broad awake two hours and more. Sat. Come on then, horse and chariots let us have, And to our sport:-Madam, now shall ye see Our Roman hunting. Mar. [To Tamora. I have dogs, my lord, Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, Tit. And I have horse will follow where the game Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. Dem. Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A desert part of the forest. Enter Aaron, with a bag of gold. Aar. He, that had wit, would think that I had none, To bury so much gold under a tree, And never after to inherit* it. Let him, that thinks of me so abjectly, Know, that this gold must coin a stratagem ; A very excellent piece of villainy; And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrestt [Hides the gold. That have their alms out of the empress' chest.. Enter Tamora. Tam. My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? The birds chaunt melody on every bush; The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind, And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once,- The wandering prince of Dido once enjoy'd, Be unto us, as is a nurse's song Of lullaby, to bring her babe asleep. Aar. Madam, though Venus govern your desires, Saturn is dominator over mine: What signifies my deadly-standing eye, No, madam, these are no venereal signs; Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,- life! Aar. No more, great empress, Bassianus comes: Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. * See Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book VI. [Exit. + Part. |