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      Must we pursue, and I haue found the path:

      My Lords, a solemne hunting is in hand.

      There will the louely Roman Ladies troope:

      The Forrest walkes are wide and spacious,

      And many vnfrequented plots there are,

      Fitted by kinde for rape and villanie:

      Single you thither then this dainty Doe,

      And strike her home by force, if not by words:

      This way or not at all, stand you in hope.

      Come, come, our Empresse with her sacred wit

      To villainie and vengance consecrate,

      Will we acquaint with all that we intend,

      And she shall file our engines with aduise,

      That will not suffer you to square your selues,

      But to your wishes height aduance you both.

      The Emperours Court is like the house of Fame,

      The pallace full of tongues, of eyes, of eares:

      The Woods are ruthlesse, dreadfull, deafe, and dull:

      There speake, and strike braue Boyes, & take your turnes.

      There serue your lusts, shadow'd from heauens eye,

      And reuell in Lauinia's Treasurie

      Exeunt.

      Enter Titus Andronicus and his three sonnes, making a noyse with hounds and hornes, and Marcus.

      Winde Hornes.

      Heere a cry of houndes, and winde hornes in a peale, then Enter Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lauinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and their Attendants.