To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid.
Of my word, I have written to effect;
There's not a god left unsolicited.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:
We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
TITUS ANDRONICUS Now, masters, draw.
[They shoot]
O, well said, Lucius!
Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
TITUS ANDRONICUS Ha, ha!
Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS 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 ANDRONICUS Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy!
[Enter a 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 O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken
them down again, for the man must not be hanged till
the next week.
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