The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,

The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.

Uncouple here, and let us make a bay,

And wake the emperor and his lovely bride,

And rouse the prince, and ring a hunter’s peal,

That all the court may echo with the noise.

Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,

To attend the emperor’s person carefully.

I have been troubled in my sleep this night,

But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.

Here a cry of hounds, and wind horns in a peal. Then enter Saturninus,

Tamora, Bassianus, Lavinia, Chiron, Demetrius, and their Attendants.

Many good morrows to your majesty;

Madam, to you as many and as good.

I promised your grace a hunter’s peal.

And you have rung it lustily, my lords;

Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.

Lavinia, how say you?

I say no;

I have been broad awake two hours and more.

Come on then; horse and chariots let us have,

And to our sport. [_To Tamora_.] Madam, now shall ye see

Our Roman hunting.

I have dogs, my lord,

Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,

And climb the highest promontory top.

And I have horse will follow where the game

Makes way, and run like swallows o’er the plain.

Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,

But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.