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

Aaron. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? Did you not use his daughter very friendly? Demet. 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. Aaron. Here lacks but your mother for to say Amen.

Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand

more.

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

us over.

Aaron. Pray to the devils; the gods have given [Aside. Trumpets sound. Demet. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

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

Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor Child.
Nurse. Good morrow, lords;

O, tell me, did you see Aaron, the Moor? Aaron. Well, more, or less, or ne'er a whit at all,

Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

Nurse. Q gentle Aaron, we are all undone! Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

Aaron. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!

What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms? Nurse. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,

Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
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 ale-house 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 the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood:
Tell the empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
Demet. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
Aaron. My mistress is my mistress; 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 safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.

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

Chi. I blush to think upon this ignominy.
Aaron. Why, there's the privilege your beauty

bears:

Aaron. To whom? Nurse.

I mean she is brought a-bed. Aaron. Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

Nurse. A devil.

Aaron. Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue.

Nurse. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful

issue:

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.
Aaron. Out, you whore! is black so base a hue ?
Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom sure.
Demet. Villain, what hast thou done?
Aaron. That which thou canst not undo.
Chi. Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron. Villain, I have done thy mother.

Demet. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone.

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

Chi. It shall not live. Aaron.

It shall not die.

Nurse. Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so. Aaron. What! must it, nurse? Then let no man but I

Do execution on my flesh and blood.

Demet. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's

point:

Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it.

Aaron. Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. [Takes the Child from the Nurse. Stay, murtherous villains, will you kill your brother?

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 life to you;
And from that womb, where you imprison'd were,
He is enfranchised and come to light:

Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.

Nurse. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?

Demet. Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done, And we will all subscribe to thy advice: Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.

Aaron. Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
My son and I will have the wind of you:
Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your safety.
Demet. How many women saw this child of his!
Aaron. Why, so, brave lords: When we join in
league

I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms:
But say again, how many saw the child?

Nurse. Cornelia the midwife, and myself,
And no one else but the deliver'd empress.

Aaron. The empress, the midwife, and yourself: Two may keep counsel when the third's away: Go to the empress, tell her this I said:

[He kills her. Weke, weke-so cries a pig prepar'd to the spit. Demet. What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this?

Aaron. Oh, lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy;
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours?
A long-tongued babbling gossip! No, lords, no:
And now be it known to you my full intent.
Not far, one Muliteus lives, my countryman;

His wife but yesternight 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 circumstance of all,
And how by this their child shall be advanc'd,
And be received for the emperor's heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
Hark ye, lords; ye see I have given her physic,
[Pointing to the Nurse.
And you must needs bestow her funeral;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
This done, see that you take no longer days,
But send the midwife presently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.

Chi. Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air with
secrets.

Demet. For this care of Tamora, Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.

[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, bearing off the Nurse.

Aaron. Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies;

There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
And secretly to greet the empress' friends:
Come on, you thick-lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;
For it is you that puts us to our shifts:
I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
To be a warrior, and command a camp.

SCENE III.-A Public Place in Rome.

[Exit.

Enter TITUS, MARCUS, Young Lucius, and other Gentlemen, with bows, and TITUS bears the arrous with letters on them.

Tit. Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the way:

Sir boy, let me see your archery;

Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
Terras Astræa reliquit, be you remember'd, Marcus.
She's gone, she's fled. Sirs, take you to your tools;
You, cousins, shall go sound the ocean,
And cast your nets. Happily, you may find her in
the sea;

Yet there's as little justice as at land:

No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmost centre of the earth;
Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you, deliver him this petition;
Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome! well, well, I made thee miserable
What time I threw the people's suffrages
On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:
This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
Marc. O, Publius, is not this a heavy case,
To see thy noble uncle thus distract?

Pub. Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns,
By day and night t' attend him carefully;
And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget some careful remedy.

Marc. Kinsman, his sorrows are past remedy. Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude, And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my masters? What, have you met with her?

Pub. No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,

If you will have revenge from hell you shall:
Marry, for Justice she is so employ'd,

He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.

Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays. I'll dive into the burning lake below,

And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but shrubs; no cedars we,
No big-bon'd men, fram'd of the Cyclops' size;
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,

Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear:

And sith there is no justice in earth nor hell,
We will solicit heaven, and move the gods,
To send down justice for to wreak our wrongs.
Come to this gear; you are a good archer, Marcus.
[He gives them the arrows.
Ad Jovem, that's for you; here, ad Apollonem:
Ad Martem, that's for myself;

Here, boy, to Pallas; here, to Mercury:
To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine,

You were as good to shoot against the wind.
To it, boy: Marcus, loose when I bid:
Of my word, I have written to effect,
There's not a god left unsolicited.

Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the

Enter Clown, with a basket, and two pigeons in it. Tit. News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.

Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?

Clown. Ho! the gibbet-maker? he says that he hath taken them down again, for the man must not be hanged till the next week.

Tit. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
Clown. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter:

I never drank with him in all my life.
Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clown. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
Clown. From heaven? alas, sir, I never came
there. God forbid I should be so bold to press to

heaven in my young days! Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal Plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the imperial's

men.

Marc. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the emperor from you.

Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor with a grace?

Clown. Nay, truly, sir; 1 could never say grace in all my life.

Tit. Sirrah, come hither; make no more ado, But give your pigeons to the emperor:

By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.

Th' effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierc'd him deep, and scarr'd his
heart;

And rather comfort his distressed plight,
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
For these contempts: Why, thus it shall become
High-witted Tamora to glose with all:
But, Titus, I have touch'd thee to the quick,
Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,
Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port. [Aside.
Enter Clown.

How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
Clown. Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be

Give me pen and ink.

Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication? Clown. Ay, sir.

Tit. Then here is a supplication for you. And when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneel; then kiss his foot; then deliver up your pigeons; and then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see you do it bravely.

Clown. I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
Tit. Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me
see it.

Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration,
For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.
And when thou hast given it the emperor,
Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
Clown. God be with you, sir; I will.
Tit. Come, Marcus, let us go; Publius, follow
[Exeunt.

me.

SCENE IV. Before the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, CHIRON, DEME

TRIUS, Lords, and others. The Emperor brings

the arrows in his hand that TITUS shot at him.

Sat. Why, lords, what wrongs are these? was

ever seen

An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
Of egal justice, used in such contempt?
My lords, you know, as do the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace

Buzz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,
But even with law, against the wilful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits;
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
And now, he writes to heaven for his redress;
See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury,
This to Apollo, this to the god of war:
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
What's this, but libelling against the senate,
And blazoning our unjustice everywhere?
A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
As who would say, in Rome no justice were:
But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
Shall be no shelter to these outrages;

But he and his shall know that Justice lives
In Saturninus' health, whom, if she sleep,
He'll so awake, as she in fury shall
Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.

Tam. My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine, Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts, Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,

Tam. Empress I am, but yonder sits the em

peror.

Clown. 'Tis he. God and saint Stephen give you good den; I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.

[SATURNINUS reads the letter. Sat. Go, take him away, and hang him presently. Clown. How much money must I have? Tam. Come, sirrah, you must be hang'd. Clown. Hanged! by'r lady then I have brought up a neck to a fair end. [Erit, guarded. Sat. Despiteful and intolerable wrongs! Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?

I know from whence this same device proceeds:
May this be borne, as if his traitorous sons,
That died by law for murther of our brother,
Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully?
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
Nor age, nor honour, shall shape privilege:
For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughter-man;
Sly frantic wretch, that holpst to make me great,
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.

Then cheer thy spirit: for know, thou emperor,
I will enchant the old Andronicus,

With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous
Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep;
When as the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed.

Sat. But he will not entreat his son for us.
Tam. If Tamora entreat him, then he will;
For I can smooth and fill his aged ear
With golden promises, that, were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
Go thou before to be our embassador;
[To ÆMILIUS.

Say that the emperor requests a parley
Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting.
Sat. Æmilius, do this message honourably :
And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best
Emil. Your bidding shall I do effectually.
[Exit EMILIUS.
Tam. Now will I to that old Andronicus;
And temper him, with all the art I have,
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
And bury all thy fear in my devices.

Sat. Then go successantly, and plead to him.

[Exeunt.

333

SCENE I.-Plains near Rome.

Luc. Approved warriors, and my faithful friends, I have received letters from great Rome, Which signify what hate they bear their emperor, And how desirous of our sight they are. Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness, Imperious and impatient of your wrongs; And wherein Rome hath done you any scaith, Let him make treble satisfaction.

Goth. Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,

Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort;

Whose high exploits, and honourable deeds,
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
Be bold in us; we'll follow where thou lead'st,
Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day,
Led by their master to the flower'd fields,
And be aveng'd on cursed Tamora:
And, as he saith, so say we all with him.

Luc. I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
Enter a Goth, leading AARON with his Child in his

arms.

Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd, To gaze upon a ruinous monastery, And as I earnestly did fix mine eye Upon the wasted building, suddenly

I heard a child cry underneath a wall:

I made unto the noise, when soon I heard
The crying babe controll'd with this discourse:
"Peace, tawny slave, half me, and half thy dam:
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor.
But where the bull and cow are both milk-white.
They never do beget a coal-black calf:

Peace, villain, peace!"-even thus he rates the babe,

"For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth,
Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe.
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake."
With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him.
Surpris'd him suddenly, and brought him hither
To use as you think needful of the man.

Luc. Oh worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand:
This is the pearl that pleas'd your empress' eye;
And here's the base fruit of his burning lust.
Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
This growing image of thy fiendlike face?
Why dost not speak? what, deaf? not a word?
A halter, soldiers; hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.

Aaron. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood. Luc. Too like the sire for ever being good. First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl: A sight to vex the father's soul withal.

Aaron. Get me a ladder! Lucius, save the child. And bear it from me to the empress :