Scene Three
[The Same. The Court of Titus's House]
Enter Lucius, Marcus, and the Goths [with Aaron prisoner].
Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.
[1.] Goth. And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor, 4
This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;
Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him,
Till he be brought unto the empress' face,
For testimony of her foul proceedings: 8
And see the ambush of our friends be strong;
I fear the emperor means no good to us.
Aar. Some devil whisper curses in my ear,
And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth 12
The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
Luc. Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave!
Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
The trumpets show the emperor is at hand. 16
Sound trumpets. Enter Emperor and Empress, with [Æmilius,] Tribunes, [Senators,] and Others.
Sat. What! hath the firmament more suns than one?
Luc. What boots it thee, to call thyself a sun?
Mar. Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle;
These quarrels must be quietly debated. 20
The feast is ready which the careful Titus
3 ours with thine: our will is one with thine
19 break the parle: stop the parley
