And pray the Roman Gods confound you both.

Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius, what's the news ? Boy. That you are both decypher'd (that's the news) For villains mark'd with rape. May it please you, My grandfire well advis'd hath fent by me The good lieft weapons of his armory, To gratifie your honcurable youth, The hope of Rome; for fo he bad me say: And fo I do, and with his gifts present Your Lordships, that whenever you have need, You may be armed and appointed well.

And fo I leave you both, like bloody villains.

[Exit.

Dem. What's here, a fcrowl, and written round about? Let's fee.

Integer vita fcelerifque purus,

Non eget Mauri jaculis nec arcu.

Chi. O'tis a verfe in Horace, I know it well:

I read it in the Grammar long ago.

Aar. Ay juft, a verfe in Horace-right, you have itNow what a thing it is to be an afs?

Here's no fond jeft, th’old man hath found their guilt,
And fends the weapons wrap'd about with lines,
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick:
But were our witty Empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit :
But let her reft in her unreft a while.
And now, young Lords, was't not a happy ftar
Led us to Rome ftrangers, and more than fo,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good before the palace-gate

To brave the Tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to fee fo great a Lord
Bafely infinuate, and fend us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reafon, Lord Demetrius ?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Dem. I would we had a thousand Roman dames

At fuch a bay, by turn to ferve our luft.
Chi. A charitable wifh, and full of love.

Aar. Here lacketh but your mother to say Amen.
Chi. And that would fhe for twenty thousand more.
E 2

Dem.

Dem. Come, let us go, and pray to all the Gods
For our beloved mother in her pains.

Aar. Pray to the devils, the Gods have given us over.
[Flourish.
Dem. Why do the Emp'ror's trumpets flourish thus ?
Chi. Belike for joy the Emp'ror hath a fon.
Dem. Soft, who comes here?

SCENE III. Enter Nurse with a Black-a-moor child.
Nur. Good-morrow, noble Lords:

O tell me, did you fee Aaron the Moor?

Aar. Well, more or lefs, or ne'er à 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 doft thou keep?
What doft thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?
Nur. O that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
Our Emprefs' fhame, and ftately Rome's difgrace.
She is deliver'd, Lords, fhe is deliver❜d.

Aar. To whom?

Nur. I mean, that the is brought to bed.

Aar. Well, God give her good reft! what hath he fent her? Nur. A devil.

Aar. Why then fhe is the devil's dam:

A joyful iffue.

Aur. A joylefs, difmal, black and forrowful iffuc. Here is the babe, as loathfome as a toad,

Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime.

The Empress fends it thee, thy ftamp, thy feal,
And bids thee chriften it with thy dagger's point,
Aar. Out, out, you whore, is black fo base a hue?
Sweet blowfe, you are a beauteous bloffom fure.
Dem. Villain, what haft thou done?

Aar. That which thou canst not undo.
Chi. Thou haft undone our mother.

Dem. Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice, Accurs'd the off-spring of so foul a fiend!

Chi. It fhall not live.

Aar. It fhall not die.

Nur. Aaron, it muft, the mother wills it fo.

Aar

Aar. What, muft 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 fword fhall foon dispatch it. Aar. Sooner this fword fhall plough thy bowels up. Stay, murtherous villains, will you kill your brother? Now by the burning tapers of the sky,

That fhone fo brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my fcimitar's fharp point,
That touches this my first-born fon and heir.
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus

With all his threatning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the God of war,

Shall feize this prey out of his father's hands;
What, what, y'unfanguine fhallow-hearted boys,
Ye white-lim'd walls, ye alehouse painted figns,
Coal-black is better than another hue,

In that it fcorns to bear another hue:

For all the water in the ocean

Can never turn the fwan's black legs to white,
Although the lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the Emprefs from me, I am of age
To keep mine own, excufe it how she can.
Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus ?
Aar. My miftrefs is my miftrefs; this, my self;
The vigour and the picture of my youth:
This, before all the world, do I prefer ;
This, maugre all the world, will I keep fafe,
Or fome of you fhall fmoke for it in Rome.
Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd.
Chi. Rome will defpife her for this foul escape.
Nur. The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
Chi. I blush to think upon this ignominy.

Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
Fine treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
The clofe enacts and counfels of the heart:
Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer,
Look how the black flave smiles upon the father;
As who should fay, Old lad, I am thine own.
He is your brother, Lords; fenfibly fed

Of that felf-blood that first gave life to you,
And from that womb where you imprison'd were,
He is infranchised and come to light :

Nay, he's your brother by the furer fide,
Although my feal be ftamped in his face.

Nur. Aaron, what fhall I fay unto the Emprefs?
Dem. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all fubfcribe to thy advice:
Save thou the child, fo we may be all safe.

Aar. Then fit we down, and let us all confult.
My fon and I will have the wind of you:
Keep there now talk at pleasure of your fafety.

[They fit on the ground,
Dem. How many women faw this child of his ?
Aar. Why, fo, brave Lords, when we all join in league,
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean fwells not fo as Aaron forms:
But fay again, how many faw the child?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife, and my felf.
And no one else but the deliver'd Emprefs.
Aar. The Emprefs, the midwife, and your self-
Two may keep counfel, when the third's away:
Go to the Emprefs, tell her, this I faid

[He kills ber Week, week! fo cries a pig prepar'd to th' fpit.

[this?

Dem. What mean'ft thou, Aaron ? wherefore didft thos
Aar. O Lord, Sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall the live to betray this guilt of ours?
A long-tongu'd babling goffip? no, Lords, no.
And now be it known to you my full intent :
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman,
His wife but yefternight was brought to bed,
His child is like to her, fair as you are :

Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumftance of all,
And how by this, their child fhall be advanc'd,
And be received for the Emperor's heir,
And fubftituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempeft whirling in the Court;
And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.

Hark

Hark ye, my Lords, ye fee I have given her phyfick,
And you must needs beftow her funeral ;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, fee that you take no longer days,
But fend the midwife prefently to me.
The midwife and the nurfe well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron, I fee thou wilt not truft the air
With fecrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora,

Her felf and hers are highly bound to thee.

[Exeunt

Aar. Now to the Goths, as fwift as swallow flies,
There to dispose this treasure in my arms,
And fecretly to greet the Emprefs' friends.
Come on, you thick-lip'd flave, I bear you hence,
For it is you that put us to our fhifts:

I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feast on curds and whey, and fuck the goat,
And cabin in a cave, and bring you up

To be a warrior, and command a camp.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. A Street near the Palace. Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentle men with bows, and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the end of them.

Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinfmen, this is the way. Sir boy, now let me fee your archery.

Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there ftraight;
Terras Aftræa reliquit be you remember'd, Marcus
She's gone, fhe's fled Sirs, take you to your tools
You, coufins, fhall go found the ocean,

And caft your nets, haply you may find her in the fea,
Yet there's as little juftice as at land

No, Publius and Sempronius; you must do it,
'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmoft center of the earth:
Then when you come to Pluto's region,
pray you to deliver this petition,
Tell him it is for justice, and for aid;
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with forrows in ungrateful Rome,

Ah