701Tit. The hunt is vp, the morne is bright and gray,

702The fields are fragrant, and the Woods are greene,

703Vncouple heere, and let vs make a bay,

704And wake the Emperour, and his louely Bride,

705And rouze the Prince, and ring a hunters peale,

706That all the Court may eccho with the noyse.

707Sonnes let it be your charge, as it is ours,

708To attend the Emperours person carefully:

709I haue bene troubled in my sleepe this night,

710But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.

715Ti. Many good morrowes to your Maiestie,

716Madam to you as many and as good.

717I promised your Grace, a Hunters peale.

718Satur. And you haue rung it lustily my Lords,

719Somewhat to earely for new married Ladies.

720Bass. Lauinia, how say you?

721Laui. I say no:

722I haue bene awake two houres and more.

723Satur. Come on then, horse and Chariots let vs haue,

724And to our sport: Madam, now shall ye see,

725Our Romaine hunting.

726Mar. I haue dogges my Lord,

727Will rouze the proudest Panther in the Chase,

728And clime the highest Pomontary top.

729Tit. And I haue horse will follow where the game

730Makes way, and runnes likes Swallowes ore the plaine

The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus. 37

731Deme. Chiron we hunt not we, with Horse nor Hound

732But hope to plucke a dainty Doe to ground. Exeunt