1    Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the way.
2    Sir boy, now let me see your archery;
3    Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
4    Terras Astraea reliquit:
5    Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
6    Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
7    Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
8    Happily you may catch her in the sea;
9    Yet there's as little justice as at land:
10   No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
11   'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
12   And pierce the inmost centre of the earth:
13   Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
14   I pray you, deliver him this petition;
15   Tell him, it is for justice and for aid,
16   And that it comes from old Andronicus,
17   Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
18   Ah, Rome! Well, well; I made thee miserable
19   What time I threw the people's suffrages
20   On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
21   Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all,
22   And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:
23   This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
24   And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.

25   O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
26   To see thy noble uncle thus distract?

27   Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns
28   By day and night to attend him carefully,
29   And feed his humour kindly as we may,
30   Till time beget some careful remedy.

31   Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
32   Join with the Goths; and with revengeful war
33   Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
34   And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

35   Publius, how now! how now, my masters!
36   What, have you met with her?

37   No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
38   If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall:
39   Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd,
40   He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
41   So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

42   He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
43   I'll dive into the burning lake below,
44   And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
45   Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we
46   No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size;
47   But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
48   Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear:
49   And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell,
50   We will solicit heaven and move the gods
51   To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
52   Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus;
He gives them the arrows
53   'Ad Jovem,' that's for you: here, 'Ad Apollinem:'
54   'Ad Martem,' that's for myself:
55   Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury:
56   To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine;
57   You were as good to shoot against the wind.
58   To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid.
59   Of my word, I have written to effect;
60   There's not a god left unsolicited.

61   Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:
62   We will afflict the emperor in his pride.

63   Now, masters, draw.
They shoot
64   O, well said, Lucius!
65   Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.

66   My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
67   Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

68   Ha, ha!
69   Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
70   See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.

71   This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
72   The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
73   That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;
74   And who should find them but the empress' villain?
75   She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
76   But give them to his master for a present.

77   Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy!
78   News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.
79   Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
80   Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

81   O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken
82   them down again, for the man must not be hanged till
83   the next week.

84   But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?

85   Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him
86   in all my life.

87   Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?

88   Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.

89   Why, didst thou not come from heaven?

90   From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there God
91   forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my
92   young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the
93   tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl
94   betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's men.

95   Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for
96   your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to
97   the emperor from you.

98   Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor
99   with a grace?

100  Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.

101  Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,
102  But give your pigeons to the emperor:
103  By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
104  Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy charges.
105  Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace
106  deliver a supplication?

107  Ay, sir.

108  Then here is a supplication for you. And when you
109  come to him, at the first approach you must kneel,
110  then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, and
111  then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see
112  you do it bravely.

113  I warrant you, sir, let me alone.

114  Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.
115  Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
116  For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.
117  And when thou hast given it the emperor,
118  Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.

119  God be with you, sir; I will.

120  Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.