Tit. Give signs, sweet girl,-for here are none but friends, What Roman lord it was durst do the deed: Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, Mar. Sit down, sweet niece ;-brother, sit down by me. -Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury, Inspire me, that I may this treason find!— [He writes his name with his Staff, and guides it Curs'd be that heart, that forc'd us to this shift!- [She takes the Staff in her Mouth, and guides it with Tit. O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ? Stuprum-Chiron-Demetrius. Mar. What, what!—the lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? Tit. Magne Dominator poli, Tam lentus audis scelera ? tam lentus vides? Mar. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although, I know, My lord, kneel down with me ;-Lavinia, kneel; [2] Feere--signifies a companion, and here metaphorically a husband. The proceeding of Brutus, which is alluded to. is described at length, in our autho'r Rape of Lucrece, as putting an end to the lamentations of Collatinus and Lucretius, the husband and father of Lucretia. TYRWHITT. But if you hurt these bear-whelps, then beware: And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad, Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not? Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Boy. Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion him? Marcus, attend him in his ecstacy; That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, Than foe-men's marks upon his batter'd shield: SCENE II. [Exit. The same. 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. [3] It should be, Revenge, ye heavens !----- JOHNSON. Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. And pray the Roman gods, confound you both. [Aside To gratify your honourable youth, The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say; Your lordships, that whenever you have need, And so I leave you both, [Aside] like bloody villains. [Ex. Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round about? Let's see; Integer vitae, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec acru. Chi. O, '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. Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius ? At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust. STEEVENS. Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen. Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us o'er. Enter a Nurse, with a Black-a-Moor Child in her arms. O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor? • Aar. Well, more, or less, or ne'er a whit at all, Aar. Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep? 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, God Give her good rest! What hath he sent her? Nur. A devil. Aar. Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue. Nur. 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. Aar. Out, out, you whore! is black so base a hue ?— Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure. Dem. Villain, what hast thou done? Aar. Done! that which thou Canst not undo. Chi. Thou hast undone our mother. Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother. Dem. 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. 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 kıll your brother? Now, by the burning tapers of the sky, : That shone so brightly when this boy was got, With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood, Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands. In that it scorns to bear another hue : Can never turn a swan's black legs to white, Aar. Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears: A broach is a spit. I'll spit the tadpole. JOHNSON. |