Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us [Aside. Flourish. o'er. 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. Aar. I mean, she's brought to bed. Well, God Give her good rest! What hath he sent her? Nur. 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. Done! that which thou Chi. Thou hast undone our mother. Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother. Dem. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone. Woe to her chauce, and damn'd her loathed choice! Accurs'd 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 drams. Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother? 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, I tell you, younglings, nót Enceladust, With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood, Can never turu a swan's black legs to white, Dem. Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus? Aar. My mistress is my mistress; this, myself; The vigour, and the picture of my youth: * Spit. Hercules. + A giant, the son of Titan and Terra. This, before all the world, do I prefer ; Dem. By this our mother is for ever sham'd. Chi. I blush to think upon this ignomy t. Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears: Nay, he's your brother by the surer side, Nur. Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress ? Aar. 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. [They sit on the ground. Dem. How many women saw this child of his ? I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor, * In spite of. té. e. Ignominy. Aar. The emperess, the midwife, and yourself: Two may keep counsel, when the third's away: Go to the empress; tell her, this I said : [Stabbing her. Weke, weke !-so cries a pig, prepar'd to the spit. Dem. What mean'st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this? Aar. O, lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy: Go pack with him, and give the mother gold, To calm this tempest whirling in the court; Hark ye, lords; ye see, that I have given her phy[Pointing to the Nurse. And you must needs bestow her funeral; sick, The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms: The midwife, and the nurse, well made away, Chi. Aaron, I see, thou wilt not trust the air Dem. For this care of Tamora, Herself, and hers, are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt Dem. and Chi. bearing off the Nurse. Aar. 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; * Contrive, bargain with. For it is you that puts us to our shifts: I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots, To be a warrior, and command a camp. [Exit. SCENE III. The same. A publick place. Enter Titus, bearing arrows, with letters at the ends of them; with him Marcus, Young Lucius, and other Gentlemen, with bows. Tit. Come, Marcus, come;-Kinsmen, this is the way: Sir boy, now let me see your archery; Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight: Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled. No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it; |