Tit. The hunt is vp, the morne is bright and gray,
The fields are fragrant, and the Woods are greene,
Vncouple heere, and let vs make a bay,
And wake the Emperour, and his louely Bride,
And rouze the Prince, and ring a hunters peale,
That all the Court may eccho with the noyse.
Sonnes let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the Emperours person carefully:
I haue bene troubled in my sleepe this night,
But dawning day new comfort hath inspir'd.
Winde Hornes.
Heere a cry of houndes, and winde hornes in a peale, then Enter
Saturninus, Tamora, Bassianus, Lauinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and
their
Attendants.
Ti. Many good morrowes to your Maiestie,
Madam to you as many and as good.
I promised your Grace, a Hunters peale
Satur. And you haue rung it lustily my Lords,
Somewhat to earely for new married Ladies
Bass. Lauinia, how say you?
Laui. I say no:
I haue bene awake two houres and more
Satur. Come on then, horse and Chariots let vs haue,
And to our sport: Madam, now shall ye see,
Our Romaine hunting
Mar. I haue dogges my Lord,
Will rouze the proudest Panther in the Chase,
And clime the highest Promontary top
Tit. And I haue horse will follow where the game
Makes way, and runnes likes Swallowes ore the plaine
Deme. Chiron we hunt not we, with Horse nor Hound
But hope to plucke a dainty Doe to ground.
Exeunt.