Chi. What! would'ft thou have me prove myself a baftard? Lav. 'Tis true, the raven doth not hatch the lark; To have his princely paws par'd all away. 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 facrifice, But fierce Andronicus would not relent; Therefore away with her, ufe her as you The worse to her, the better lov'd of me. Lav. [Laying hold on Tamora.] O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, will; And with thine own hands kill me in this place; 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 loathfome pit; Where never man's eye may behold my body: Do this, and be a charitable murderer. Tam. So fhould I rob my fweet fons of their fee. No; let them fatisfy their luft on thee. Dem. Away! for thou haft ftaid us here too long, VOL. VIII. Ff Lay. Lav. No grace? no womanhood? ah beaf J creature! The blot and enemy of our general name! Chi. Nay, then I'll ftop your mouth-bring thou her husband; [Dragging off Lavinia. This is the hole, where Aaron bid us hide him. [Exeunt. Tam. Farewell, my fons. See, that you make her fure. Ne'er let my heart know merry chear indeed, Now will I hence to feek my lovely Moor, And let my spleenful fons this trull deflow'r. [Exit. SCENE IV. Enter Aaron, with Quintus and Marcus. Aar. Come on, my lords, the better foot before; Strait will I bring you to the loathsome pit, Where I efpied the panther faft afleep. Quin. My fight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. Mar. And mine, I promife you; wer't not for fhame, Well could I leave our fport to sleep awhile. [Marcus falls into the pit. Quin. What, art thou fallen? what fubtle hole is this, Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briars, Speak, brother, haft thou hurt thee with the fall? That That he thereby may have a likely guefs, Quin. I am furprized with an uncouth fear; Quin. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out, Or, wanting ftrength to do thee fo much good, 4 A precions ring,] There is fuppofed to be a gem called a carbuncle, which emits not reflected but native light. Mr. Boyle believes the reality of its existence. Ff2 JOHNSON. I may I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb Of this deep pit, poor Baffianus' grave, -I have no ftrength to pluck thee to the brink. Mar. And I no strength to climb without thy help. Quin. Thy hand once more; I will not lose again, Till thou art here aloft, or I below. Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee. Enter the Emperor and Aaron. [Falls in. Sat. Along with me.-I'll fee what hole is here, Mar. The unhappy fon of old Andronicus, Sat. My brother dead? I know, thou doft but jest, He and his lady both are at the lodge, Upon the north fide of this pleasant chafe; "Tis not an hour fince 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? Sat. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief. Tam. Where is thy brother Baffianus ? Sat. Now to the bottom doft thou fearch my wound; Poor Baffianus here lies murdered. Tam. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, The complot of this timeless tragedy: [She giveth Saturninus a letter. Saturninus reads the letter. And if we mifs to meet him handsomely, Which over-fhades the mouth of that fame pit, Do this, and purchafe us thy lafting friends. Aar. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. [Shewing it. 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 prifon; 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 wond'rous thing! How eafily murder is difcovered? Tit. High emperor, upon my feeble knee Sat. If it be prov'd! You fee, it is apparent, Ff3 Sat |