Chapter: SCENE III.
Rome. A public place

Enter TITUS, bearing arrows with letters on the ends of them;
with him MARCUS, YOUNG LUCIUS, and other gentlemen,
PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, and CAIUS, with bows

  TITUS. Come, Marcus, come; kinsmen, this is the way.
    Sir boy, let me see your archery;
    Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
    Terras Astrea reliquit,
    Be you rememb'red, Marcus; she's gone, she's fled.
    Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
    Go sound the ocean and cast your nets;
    Happily you may catch her in the sea;
    Yet there's as little justice as at land.
    No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
    'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
    And pierce the inmost centre of the earth;
    Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
    I pray you deliver him this petition.
    Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
    And that it comes from old Andronicus,
    Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
    Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable
    What time I threw the people's suffrages
    On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
    Go get you gone; and pray be careful all,
    And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd.
    This wicked Emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
    And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
  MARCUS. O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
    To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
  PUBLIUS. Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns
    By day and night t' attend him carefully,
    And feed his humour kindly as we may
    Till time beget some careful remedy.
  MARCUS. Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
    Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
    Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
    And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
  TITUS. Publius, how now? How now, my masters?
    What, have you met with her?
  PUBLIUS. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
    If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall.
    Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd,
    He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
    So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
  TITUS. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
    I'll dive into the burning lake below
    And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
    Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
    No big-bon'd men fram'd of the Cyclops' size;
    But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
    Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear;
    And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell,
    We will solicit heaven, and move the gods
    To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs.
    Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus.
                                      [He gives them the arrows]
    'Ad Jovem' that's for you; here 'Ad Apollinem.'
    'Ad Martem' that's for myself.
    Here, boy, 'To Pallas'; here 'To Mercury.'
    'To Saturn,' Caius- not to Saturnine:
    You were as good to shoot against the wind.
    To it, boy. Marcus, loose when I bid.
    Of my word, I have written to effect;
    There's not a god left unsolicited.
  MARCUS. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court;
    We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
  TITUS. Now, masters, draw.  [They shoot]  O, well said, Lucius!
    Good boy, in Virgo's lap! Give it Pallas.
  MARCUS. My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
    Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
  TITUS. Ha! ha!
    Publius, Publius, hast thou done?
    See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
  MARCUS. This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
    The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
    That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;
    And who should find them but the Empress' villain?
    She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
    But give them to his master for a present.
  TITUS. Why, there it goes! God give his lordship joy!

    Enter the CLOWN, with a basket and two pigeons in it

    News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.
    Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters?
    Shall I have justice? What says Jupiter?
  CLOWN. Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that he hath taken them
down
    again, for the man must not be hang'd till the next week.
  TITUS. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
  CLOWN. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him in
all
    my life.
  TITUS. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
  CLOWN. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
  TITUS. Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
  CLOWN. From heaven! Alas, sir, I never came there. God forbid I
    should be so bold to press to heaven in my young days. Why, I
am
    going with my pigeons to the Tribunal Plebs, to take up a
matter
    of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal's men.
  MARCUS. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your
    oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the Emperor from
you.
  TITUS. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor with
a
    grace?
  CLOWN. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
  TITUS. Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado,
    But give your pigeons to the Emperor;
    By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
    Hold, hold! Meanwhile here's money for thy charges.
    Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver up
a
    supplication?
  CLOWN. Ay, sir.
  TITUS. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come
to
    him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his
foot;
    then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward.
I'll
    be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.
  CLOWN. I warrant you, sir; let me alone.
  TITUS. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come let me see it.
    Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
    For thou hast made it like a humble suppliant.
    And when thou hast given it to the Emperor,
    Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
  CLOWN. God be with you, sir; I will.
  TITUS. Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.     Exeunt





SCENE IV.
Rome. Before the palace

Enter the EMPEROR, and the EMPRESS and her two sons, DEMETRIUS
and CHIRON;
LORDS and others. The EMPEROR brings the arrows in his hand that
TITUS
shot at him

  SATURNINUS. Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen
    An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
    Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
    Of egal justice, us'd in such contempt?
    My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
    However these disturbers of our peace
    Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd
    But even with law against the wilful sons
    Of old Andronicus. And what an if
    His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
    Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
    His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
    And now he writes to heaven for his redress.
    See, here's 'To Jove' and this 'To Mercury';
    This 'To Apollo'; this 'To the God of War'-
    Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
    What's this but libelling against the Senate,
    And blazoning our unjustice every where?
    A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
    As who would say in Rome no justice were.
    But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
    Shall be no shelter to these outrages;
    But he and his shall know that justice lives
    In Saturninus' health; whom, if she sleep,
    He'll so awake as he in fury shall
    Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
  TAMORA. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
    Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
    Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
    Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons
    Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep and scarr'd his heart;
    And rather comfort his distressed plight
    Than prosecute the meanest or the best
    For these contempts.  [Aside]  Why, thus it shall become
    High-witted Tamora to gloze with all.
    But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
    Thy life-blood on't; if Aaron now be wise,
    Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.

                       Enter CLOWN

    How now, good fellow! Wouldst thou speak with us?
  CLOWN. Yes, forsooth, an your mistriship be Emperial.
  TAMORA. Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
  CLOWN. 'Tis he.- God and Saint Stephen give you godden. I have
    brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
                                   [SATURNINUS reads the letter]
  SATURNINUS. Go take him away, and hang him presently.
  CLOWN. How much money must I have?
  TAMORA. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd.
  CLOWN. Hang'd! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to a
fair
    end.                                          [Exit guarded]
  SATURNINUS. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
    Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?
    I know from whence this same device proceeds.
    May this be borne- as if his traitorous sons
    That died by law for murder of our brother
    Have by my means been butchered wrongfully?
    Go drag the villain hither by the hair;
    Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege.
    For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughterman,
    Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
    In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.

                   Enter NUNTIUS AEMILIUS

    What news with thee, Aemilius?
  AEMILIUS. Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause.
    The Goths have gathered head; and with a power
    Of high resolved men, bent to the spoil,
    They hither march amain, under conduct
    Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
    Who threats in course of this revenge to do
    As much as ever Coriolanus did.
  SATURNINUS. Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
    These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
    As flowers with frost, or grass beat down with storms.
    Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach.
    'Tis he the common people love so much;
    Myself hath often heard them say-
    When I have walked like a private man-
    That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
    And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.
  TAMORA. Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
  SATURNINUS. Ay, but the citizens favour Lucius,
    And will revolt from me to succour him.
  TAMORA. King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name!
    Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it?
    The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
    And is not careful what they mean thereby,
    Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
    He can at pleasure stint their melody;
    Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome.
    Then cheer thy spirit; for know thou, Emperor,
    I will enchant the old Andronicus
    With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
    Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep,
    When as the one is wounded with the bait,
    The other rotted with delicious feed.
  SATURNINUS. But he will not entreat his son for us.
  TAMORA. If Tamora entreat him, then he will;
    For I can smooth and fill his aged ears
    With golden promises, that, were his heart
    Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
    Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
    [To AEMILIUS]  Go thou before to be our ambassador;
    Say that the Emperor requests a parley
    Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
    Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
  SATURNINUS. Aemilius, do this message honourably;
    And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
    Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
  AEMILIUS. Your bidding shall I do effectually.            Exit
  TAMORA. Now will I to that old Andronicus,
    And temper him with all the art I have,
    To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
    And now, sweet Emperor, be blithe again,
    And bury all thy fear in my devices.
  SATURNINUS. Then go successantly, and plead to him.
                                                          Exeunt

 Titus brings Marcus, Young Lucius, and his kinsmen Publius, Sempronius, and Caius to shoot arrows at the constellations. These arrows are tipped with petitions to the gods for justice. Marcus adds a practical touch by advising the men to make certain their shafts fall into the court so as to scare the emperor. Along comes a clown carrying two pigeons; he tells them he is going to court to settle a personal dispute. Titus convinces the clown to bring a message on his behalf to the emperor, with the promise of a hefty monetary reward. In the court, Saturninus is furious about the arrows he has found, for they have advertised his crimes to all of Rome. The clown enters with the two pigeons and Titus's letter. Saturninus reads the letter and immediately has the clown hanged. Next, the messenger Aemilius enters with word that Lucius has gathered an army of Goths and is already advancing on Rome. Saturninus flies into a panic; he has often heard rumors that the people would support Lucius over himself. Tamora calms him by comparing him to an eagle that tolerates the song of smaller birds because he can silence them at will. Furthermore, she promises him that she can persuade Titus to entreat Lucius to desist in his war efforts. She sends Aemilius to the Goth camp to ask Lucius to go to a meeting at the house of Titus.

