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Shall carry

from me to the empress' sons Presents, that I intend to send them both: Come, come; thou 'lt do thy message, wilt thou

not? Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandTit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another



Lavinia, come: Marcus, look to my house ;
Lucius and I 'll


brave it at the court; Ay, marry,


sir : and we 'll be waited on.

[Exeunt Titus, LAVINIA, and Boy. Marc. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion him? Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy ; That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, Than foe-men's marks


his batter'd shield: But yet so just, that he will not revenge: Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! [Erit.


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

Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;
He hath some message to deliver to us.
Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grand-

father. Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your

honours from Andronicus; And pray the Roman gods, confound you both.


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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 goodliest weapons of his armoury, To gratify your honourable youth, The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say; And so I do, and with his gifts present Your lordships, that whenever you have need, You may be armed and appointed well : And so I leave you both, [Aside,] like bloody villains.

[Exeunt Boy and Attendant, Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round


Let's see?

Integer vita, scelerisque purus,
Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.

Chi. 0, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:
I read it in the grammar long ago.
Aar. Ay, just!

a verse in Horace:- right, you have it. 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,

Aside. That wound, beyond their feeling, to the

But were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest awhile,
And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height ?

5. i. e, Grand merci; great thanks.

It did me good, before the Palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.

Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius ? Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love.
Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand

Dem. Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods -
For our beloved mother in our pains.
Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given
us o'er.

[Aside. Flourish, Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish

thus ? Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son. Dem. Soft; who comes here?



Enter a Nurse, with a Black-a-moor Child in her

Arms. Nur.

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?

I mean, she's brought to bed.


Well, Jove Give her good rest! What hath she got ? Nur.

A devil. Aar. Why then she's the devil's dam; a joyful



Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime. The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal, And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point, Aar. Out, out, you wretch! is black so 'base a

hue? Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?

Done! that which thou
Canst not undo.

Thou hast undone our mother. Dem. Woe to her chance, accurs'd her loathed

Woe to the offspring of so foul a fiend !

Chi. It shall not live.

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


[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.

He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus ?,
With all his threat’ning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what; ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys !
Ye white-lim'd walls ! ye alehouse painted signs !
Coal black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns to bear another hue :
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn a swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the emperess from me, I am of age
To keep mine owp; excuse it how she can.
" Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus ?

Aar. My mistress is my mistress ; this, myself;
The vigour and the picture of my youth:
This, before all the world, do I prefer ;
This, maugre all the world, will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
Chi. Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
Nur. The emperor, in his rage, will doom her

Chi. I blush to think


this ignomy.' Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty

bears : Fye, treacherous hue! that will betray with blushing The close enacts and counsels of the heart ! Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer :: Look how the black slave smiles upon the father ; As who should say, Old lad, I am thine own. He is your brother, lords ; sensibly fed Of that self-blood that first

gave Although my seal be stamped in his face.

life to you;

7 A giant, the son of Titan and Terra. 8 Hercules,

9 In spite of. • Ignominy. * Complexion.

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