My Lord, look here; look here, Lavinia.

[He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with bis feet and mouth.

This fandy plot is plain; guide, if thou can't,
This after me, when I have writ my name,
Without the help of any hand at all.

Curst be that heart, that forc'd us to this shift!
Write thou, good niece; and here difplay, at least,
What God will have difcover'd for revenge;
Heav'n guide thy pen, to print thy forrows plain,
That we may know the traitors, and the truth!
[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it with her
Stumps, and writes.

Tit. Oh, do you read, my Lord, what he hath writ ? Stuprum, Chiron, Demetrius.

Mar. What, what!-the luftful fons of Tamora Performers of this hateful bloody deed?

Tit. Magne Dominator Poli, (20)

Tam lentus audis fcelera! tam lentus vides!

Mar. Oh calm, thee, gentle Lord; although, I know, There is enough written upon this earth, To ftir a mutiny in the mildeft thoughts, And arm the minds of infants to exclaims. My Lord, kneel down with me: Lavinia kneel,

(20)

Magni Dominator Poli,

Tam lentus audis Scelera! tam lentus vides!] Thus this quotation has pafs'd thro' all the printed copies, as well thofe put out by the players, as those by the more learned editors. The latter of these verses is copied from the Hippolitus of Seneca; but the addrefs to Jupiter there, which precedes it, is in thefe terms-Magne Regnator Deum,

Tam lentus audis fcelera! &c.

Where Shakespeare (or whoever elfe was the author of this play) met with the hemistich fubftituted in the place of Seneca's, I can't pretend to say. But were our poetical editors fo little acquainted with the numbers of a common Iambic, as to let

Mag-ni Domi- | nator | Poli,

pafs them without fufpicion? have they ever obferv'd a dactyl in the fourth foot of an Iambic verfe, either in the Greek tragedians, or in Seneca if not, I must believe, our author found this hemiftich thus:

Mag- | ne Domi- | nator | Poli,

Thus the 4th foot is a Tribrachys, (and equal in time to an Iambic) a licence perpetually taken by all the tragic poets.

L 6

And

And kneel, fweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope,
And fwear with me, (as, with the woeful peer,
And father, of that chafte difhonoured dame,
Lord Junius Brutus fware for Lucrece' rape)
That we will profecute (by good advice) (21)
Mortal revenge upon thefe traiterous Goths;
And fee their blood, cre die with this reproach.
Tit. "Tis fure enough, if you knew how.
But if you hurt thefe bear-whelps, then beware,
The dam will wake; and if fhe wind you once,
She's with the lion deeply still in league;
And lulls him whilft the playeth on her back,
And, when he fleeps, will the do what the lift.
You're a young huntfinan, Marcus, let it alone;
And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of fleet will write these words,
And lay it by; the angry northern wind
Will blow thefe fands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad,
And where's your leffon then? boy, what fay you?
Roy. I fay, my Lord, tha. if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe,
For thefe bad bond-men to the yoke of Rome.
Mar. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full of
For this ungrateful country done the like.
Boy. And, uncle, fo will I, an if I live.
Tit. Come, go with me into my armoury.
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy

(21) That we will profecute (by good advice)

Mortal revenge upon thefe traiterous Goths;

And fee their blood, or die with this reproach.] But if they en deavour'd to throw off the reproach, tho' they fell in the attempt, they could not be properly faid to die with that reproach. Marcus muft certainly mean, that they would have revenge on their enemies, and spill their blood, rather than they would tamely fit down, and die, under fuch injuries. For this reafon I have corrected the text, ere die with this reproach.

And the fame emendation I have made on a paffage in Cymbeline, where it was as abfolutely neceffary. I am not to learn, that or formerly was equivalent to ere.----Or, before, ere: Gloff. to Urrey's Caucer.---Or, for ere: quod etiamnum in agro Lincolnienfi frequen tiffime ufurpatur. Skinner in his Gloffary of uncommon words ---But this ufage was too obfolete for our Shakespeare's time.

Shall

Shall carry from me to the Emprefs' fons
Prefents, that I intend to fend them both.

Come, come, thou'lt do my meffage, wilt thou not?. Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bofom, grandfire. Tit. No, boy, not fo; I'll teach thee another course. Lavinia, come; Marcus, look to my houfe:

Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court,

'Ay, marry, will we, Şir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compaffion him?

Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,

That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,
Than foe-mens marks upon his batter'd shield;
But yet fo juft, that he will not revenge;
Revenge the heav'ns for old Andronicus!

SCENE changes to the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door: and at another door young Lucius and another, with a bundle of weapons and verfes writ upon them.

Chi.

D

Emetrius, here's the fon of Lucius;

He hath some meffage to deliver us.
Aar. Ay, fome mad meflage from his mad grandfather.
By. My Lords, with all the humbleness I may,
I greet your honours from Andronicus;

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 goodlieft weapons of his armoury,
To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome; for fo he bade me say:
And fo I do, and with his gifts prefent

Your Lordfhips, 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 fcroll, and written round about?

Let's

4

Let's fee.

Integer vitæ, 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 it Now, what a thing it is to be an ass ?

Here's no fond jeft; the old man hath found their guilt,(22)
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 awhile.

And now, young Lords, was't not a happy star
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 reason, Lord Demetrius ?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

Dem. I would, we had a thoufand 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 fay Amen. Chi. And that would the for twenty thousand more, 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 son.
Dem. Soft, who comes here ?

(22) Here's no found jeft;] But, I think, I may venture to fay, here's no found fenfe. Doubtlefs, the poet wrote, bere's no fond jeft, i. e. no idle, foolish one; but a farcafm deliberately thrown, and grounded on reason,

2

Enter

Enter Nurfe, with a Black-a-moor child.

Nur. Good-morrow, Lords:

O, tell me, did you fee Aaron the Moor?

Aar. Well, more or lefs, 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 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 disgrace. She is deliver'd, Lords, fhe is deliver'd.

Aar. To whom?

Nur. I mean fhe is brought to bed.

Aar. Well, God give her good reft!

What hath he fent her?

Nur. A devil.

Aar. Why, then she is the devil's dam: a joyful iffue. Nur. A joylefs, difmal, black, and forrowful iffue. 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 bafe a hue !
Sweet blowse, 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. (23)

(23) Chi. Thou haft undone our mother.

Aar.

Dem. And therein, bellish dog, thou haft undone.- -] There is no neceffity for this break, had our editors collated the old quarto, and reftor'd the fupplemental half line which I have added from thence. They did not, I dare fay, fupprefs it out of modesty. It contains a mode of expreffion, which, tho' somewhat coarse, is ufed by our author in other places.

Clown. Yonder man is carried to prison.
Bawd. Well; what has he done?
Clown.

A woman.
-who, if I

Had fervants true about me, that bear eyes

Meaf, for Meaf.

To