Marc. What, what!-the lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? Tit. Magne Dominator poli, Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? There is enough written upon this earth, 4 And with a gad of steel will write these words, Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad, And where's your lesson then? - Boy, what say you? Boy. I say, my lord, that if I were a man, Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe 3 Husband. The point of a spear. Shall carry from me to the empress' sons Come, come; thou 'lt do thy message, wilt thou not? Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grand sire. Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course. Lavinia, come: Marcus, look to my house; Ay, marry, will we, sir: and we'll be waited on. That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, SCENE II. A Room in the Palace. Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, at one Door; at another Door, Young Lucius, and an Attendant, with a Bundle of Weapons, and Verses writ upon them. Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; He hath some message to deliver to us. Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus; And pray the Roman gods, confound you both. [Aside. Dem. Gramercy', lovely Lucius: What's the news? Boy. That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, For villains mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you, My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say; And so I leave you both, [Aside,] like bloody villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round about? Let's see? Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu. Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago. Aar. Ay, just! have it. - a verse in Horace :-right, you Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt; And sends the weapons wrapp'd about with lines, That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick. But were our witty empress well a-foot, Aside. And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star 5 i.e. Grand merci; great thanks. It did me good, before the Palace gate Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love. Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen. Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more. Dem. Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods For our beloved mother in our pains. us o'er. Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given [Aside. Flourish, Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus? Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son. Enter a Nurse, with a Black-a-moor Child in her Nur. Arms. Good morrow, lords: O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor. Aar. Well, more, or less, or ne'er a whit at all, Here Aaron is: and what with Aaron now? Nur. O, gentle Aaron, we are all undone! Now help, or woe betide thee evermore! Aar. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep? What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms? Nur. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye, Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace;She is deliver'd, lords, she is deliver❜d. Aar. To whom? Nur. I mean, she's brought to bed. Aar. Well, Jove Give her good rest! What hath she got? A devil. Aar. Why then she's the devil's dam; a joyful issue. Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful Issue: Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure. Aar. Canst not undo. Chi. Done! that which thou Thou hast undone our mother. Dem. Woe to her chance, accurs'd her loathed choice! Woe to the offspring of so foul a fiend! Chi. It shall not live. Aar. It shall not die. Nur. Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so. Aar. What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I, Do execution on my flesh and blood. Dem. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point; Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it. Aar. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up, [Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws. Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your bro ther? Now, by the burning tapers of the sky, That shone so brightly when this boy was got, 6 Spit. |