ACT IV. SCENE I. Rome. TITUS' garden  Enter YOUNG LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him, and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm.  Enter TITUS and MARCUS    BOY. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia     Follows me everywhere, I know not why.     Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!     Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.   MARCUS. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.   TITUS. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.   BOY. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.   MARCUS. What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?   TITUS. Fear her not, Lucius; somewhat doth she mean.     See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee.     Somewhither would she have thee go with her.     Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care     Read to her sons than she hath read to thee     Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.   MARCUS. Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?   BOY. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,     Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her;     For I have heard my grandsire say full oft     Extremity of griefs would make men mad;     And I have read that Hecuba of Troy     Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear;     Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt     Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,     And would not, but in fury, fright my youth;     Which made me down to throw my books, and fly-     Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt;     And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,     I will most willingly attend your ladyship.   MARCUS. Lucius, I will.           [LAVINIA turns over with her                      stumps the books which Lucius has let fall]   TITUS. How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?     Some book there is that she desires to see.     Which is it, girl, of these?- Open them, boy.-     But thou art deeper read and better skill'd;     Come and take choice of all my library,     And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens     Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.     Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?   MARCUS. I think she means that there were more than one     Confederate in the fact; ay, more there was,     Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.   TITUS. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?   BOY. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;     My mother gave it me.   MARCUS. For love of her that's gone,     Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.   TITUS. Soft! So busily she turns the leaves! Help her.     What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?     This is the tragic tale of Philomel     And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape;     And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy.   MARCUS. See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves.   TITUS. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl,     Ravish'd and wrong'd as Philomela was,     Forc'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?     See, see!     Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt-     O, had we never, never hunted there!-     Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,     By nature made for murders and for rapes.   MARCUS. O, why should nature build so foul a den,     Unless the gods delight in tragedies?   TITUS. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,     What Roman lord it was durst do the deed.     Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,     That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?   MARCUS. Sit down, sweet niece; brother, sit down by me.     Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,     Inspire me, that I may this treason find!     My lord, look here! Look here, Lavinia!                                     [He writes his name with his                        staff, and guides it with feet and mouth]     This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,     This after me. I have writ my name     Without the help of any hand at all.     Curs'd be that heart that forc'd us to this shift!     Write thou, good niece, and here display at last     What God will have discovered for revenge.     Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,     That we may know the traitors and the truth!                                [She takes the staff in her mouth                           and guides it with stumps, and writes]     O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?   TITUS. 'Stuprum- Chiron- Demetrius.'   MARCUS. What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora     Performers of this heinous bloody deed?   TITUS. Magni Dominator poli,     Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?   MARCUS. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although I know     There is enough written upon this earth     To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,     And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.     My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;     And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;     And swear with me- as, with the woeful fere     And father of that chaste dishonoured dame,     Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape-     That we will prosecute, by good advice,     Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,     And see their blood or die with this reproach.   TITUS. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how;     But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:     The dam will wake; and if she wind ye once,     She's with the lion deeply still in league,     And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,     And when he sleeps will she do what she list.     You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone;     And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,     And with a gad of steel will write these words,     And lay it by. The angry northern wind     Will blow these sands like Sibyl's leaves abroad,     And where's our lesson, then? Boy, what say you?   BOY. I say, my lord, that if I were a man     Their mother's bedchamber should not be safe     For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.   MARCUS. Ay, that's my boy! Thy father hath full oft     For his ungrateful country done the like.   BOY. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.   TITUS. Come, go with me into mine armoury.     Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal my boy     Shall carry from me to the Empress' sons     Presents that I intend to send them both.     Come, come; thou'lt do my message, wilt thou not?   BOY. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.   TITUS. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.     Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house.     Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court;     Ay, marry, will we, sir! and we'll be waited on.                          Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and YOUNG LUCIUS   MARCUS. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan     And not relent, or not compassion him?     Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,     That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart     Than foemen's marks upon his batt'red shield,     But yet so just that he will not revenge.     Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!                 Exit     SCENE II. Rome. The palace  Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, at one door; and at the other door, YOUNG LUCIUS and another with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them    CHIRON. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;     He hath some message to deliver us.   AARON. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.   BOY. My lords, with all the humbleness I may,     I greet your honours from Andronicus-     [Aside]  And pray the Roman gods confound you both!   DEMETRIUS. Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What's the news?   BOY.  [Aside]  That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,     For villains mark'd with rape.- May it please you,     My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me     The goodliest weapons of his armoury     To gratify your honourable youth,     The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say;     And so I do, and with his gifts present     Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,     You may be armed and appointed well.     And so I leave you both-  [Aside]  like bloody villains.                                Exeunt YOUNG LUCIUS and attendant   DEMETRIUS. What's here? A scroll, and written round about.     Let's see:     [Reads]  'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,     Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.'   CHIRON. O, 'tis a verse in Horace, I know it well;     I read it in the grammar long ago.   AARON. Ay, just- a verse in Horace. Right, you have it.     [Aside]  Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!     Here's no sound jest! The old man hath found their guilt,     And sends them weapons wrapp'd about with lines     That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.     But were our witty Empress well afoot,     She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.     But let her rest in her unrest awhile-     And now, young lords, was't not a happy star     Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,     Captives, to be advanced to this height?     It did me good before the palace gate     To brave the Tribune in his brother's hearing.   DEMETRIUS. But me more good to see so great a lord     Basely insinuate and send us gifts.   AARON. Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?     Did you not use his daughter very friendly?   DEMETRIUS. I would we had a thousand Roman dames     At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.   CHIRON. A charitable wish and full of love.   AARON. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.   CHIRON. And that would she for twenty thousand more.   DEMETRIUS. Come, let us go and pray to all the gods     For our beloved mother in her pains.   AARON.  [Aside]  Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.                                                 [Trumpets sound]   DEMETRIUS. Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish thus?   CHIRON. Belike, for joy the Emperor hath a son.   DEMETRIUS. Soft! who comes here?              Enter NURSE, with a blackamoor CHILD    NURSE. Good morrow, lords.     O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?   AARON. Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,     Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?   NURSE. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!     Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!   AARON. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!     What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?   NURSE. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye:     Our Empress' shame and stately Rome's disgrace!     She is delivered, lord; she is delivered.   AARON. To whom?   NURSE. I mean she is brought a-bed.   AARON. Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?   NURSE. A devil.   AARON. Why, then she is the devil's dam;     A joyful issue.   NURSE. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue!     Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad     Amongst the fair-fac'd breeders of our clime;     The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,     And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.   AARON. Zounds, ye whore! Is black so base a hue?     Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom sure.   DEMETRIUS. Villain, what hast thou done?   AARON. That which thou canst not undo.   CHIRON. Thou hast undone our mother.   AARON. Villain, I have done thy mother.   DEMETRIUS. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.     Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!     Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend!   CHIRON. It shall not live.   AARON. It shall not die.   NURSE. Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.   AARON. What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I     Do execution on my flesh and blood.   DEMETRIUS. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point.     Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.   AARON. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.                      [Takes the CHILD from the NURSE, and draws]     Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother!     Now, by the burning tapers of the sky     That shone so brightly when this boy was got,     He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point     That touches this my first-born son and heir.     I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,     With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,     Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,     Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.     What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!     Ye white-lim'd walls! ye alehouse painted signs!     Coal-black is better than another hue     In that it scorns to bear another hue;     For all the water in the ocean     Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,     Although she lave them hourly in the flood.     Tell the Empress from me I am of age     To keep mine own- excuse it how she can.   DEMETRIUS. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?   AARON. My mistress is my mistress: this my self,     The vigour and the picture of my youth.     This before all the world do I prefer;     This maugre all the world will I keep safe,     Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.   DEMETRIUS. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.   CHIRON. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.   NURSE. The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.   CHIRON. I blush to think upon this ignomy.   AARON. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:     Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing     The close enacts and counsels of thy heart!     Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer.     Look how the black slave smiles upon the father,     As who should say 'Old lad, I am thine own.'     He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed     Of that self-blood that first gave life to you;     And from your womb where you imprisoned were     He is enfranchised and come to light.     Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,     Although my seal be stamped in his face.   NURSE. Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?   DEMETRIUS. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,     And we will all subscribe to thy advice.     Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.   AARON. Then sit we down and let us all consult.     My son and I will have the wind of you:     Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety.                                                       [They sit]   DEMETRIUS. How many women saw this child of his?   AARON. Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league     I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,     The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,     The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.     But say, again, how many saw the child?   NURSE. Cornelia the midwife and myself;     And no one else but the delivered Empress.   AARON. The Emperess, the midwife, and yourself.     Two may keep counsel when the third's away:     Go to the Empress, tell her this I said.      [He kills her]     Weeke weeke!     So cries a pig prepared to the spit.   DEMETRIUS. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?   AARON. O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy.     Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours-     A long-tongu'd babbling gossip? No, lords, no.     And now be it known to you my full intent:     Not far, one Muliteus, my countryman-     His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;     His child is like to her, fair as you are.     Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,     And tell them both the circumstance of all,     And how by this their child shall be advanc'd,     And be received for the Emperor's heir     And substituted in the place of mine,     To calm this tempest whirling in the court;     And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.     Hark ye, lords. You see I have given her physic,                                          [Pointing to the NURSE]     And you must needs bestow her funeral;     The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms.     This done, see that you take no longer days,     But send the midwife presently to me.     The midwife and the nurse well made away,     Then let the ladies tattle what they please.   CHIRON. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air     With secrets.   DEMETRIUS. For this care of Tamora,     Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.           Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, bearing off the dead NURSE    AARON. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,     There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,     And secretly to greet the Empress' friends.     Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;     For it is you that puts us to our shifts.     I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,     And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,     And cabin in a cave, and bring you up     To be a warrior and command a camp.                                              Exit with the CHILD     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 out; 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