Clo. Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial. 40
Tam. Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.
Clo. 'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good den.
I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him presently. 44
Clo. How much money must I have?
Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
Clo. Hanged! By'r lady, then I have brought
up a neck to a fair end. Exit [guarded]. 48
Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?
I know from whence this same device proceeds:
May this be borne? As if his trait'rous sons, 52
That died by law for murther of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully!
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege. 56
For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughterman,
Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
Enter Nuntius Æmilius.
What news with thee, Æmilius? 60
Æmil. Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause.
The Goths have gather'd head, and with a power
Of high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain, under conduct 64
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
40 mistership: the clown's attempt at 'mistress-ship'
42 good den: good evening
56 shape privilege: constitute exemption from punishment
