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Luc. I humbly thank him, and I thank you all. But who comes here led by a lufty Goth.

Enter a Goth leading Aaron, with his child in his arms, Goth. Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd Το gaze upon a ruinous monastery; And as I earneftly did fix mine eye Upon the wafted building, fuddenly 1 heard a child cry underneath a wall; I made unto the noise, when foon I heard The crying babe controul'd with this discourse; "Peace, tawny flave, half me and half thy dam, "Did not thy hue bewray whofe brat thou art, "Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look, "Villain, thou might'ft have been an Emperor: "But where the bull and cow are both milk-white, "They never do beget a cole-black calf;

"Peace, villain, peace! (even thus he rates the babe) "For I must bear thee to a trufty Goth;

"Who, when he knows thou art the Emprefs' babe,
"Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's fake."
With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
Surpriz'd him fuddenly, and brought him hither,
To ufe as you think needful of the man.

Luc. O worthy Goth, this is th' incarnate devil,
That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;
This is the pearl that pleas'd your Empreis' eye,
And here's the bafe fruit of his burning luft.
Say, wall-ey'd flave, whither would't thou convey
This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
Why doft not fpeak? what! deaf? no! not a word?
A halter, foldiers; hang him on this tree,
And by his fide his fruit of baftardy.

Aar. Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
Luc. Too like the fire for ever being good.

Firft, hang the child that he may fee it sprawl,
A fight to vex the father's foul withal.
Get me a ladder. (25)

Aar.

(25) Aar. Get me a ladder, Lucius, fave the child.] All the printed editions have given this whole verfe to Aaron. But why fhould the

Moor

Aar. Lucius, fave the child,

And bear it from me to the Emperefs;
If thou do this, I'll fhew thee wondrous things,
That highly may advantage thee to hear;
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
I'll speak no more; but vengeance rot you all!

Luc. Say on, and if it please me which thou fpeak'st, Thy child fhall live, and I will fee it nourish'd.

Aar. And if it pleafe thee? why, affure thee, Lucius, 'Twill vex thy foul to hear what I fhall speak: For I must talk of murders, rapes and maffacres, Acts of black night, abominable deeds, Complots of mischief, treafon, villanies, Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd: And this fhall all be buried by my death, Unless thou fwear to me my child shall live.

Luc. Tell on thy mind; I fay, thy child fhall live. Aar. Swear, that he fhall; and then I will begin. Luc. Who fhould I swear by? thou believ'ft no god:" That granted, how can't thou believe an oath ?

Aar. What if I do not! as, indeed, I do not;
Yet, for I know thou art religious,

And haft a thing within thee called confcience,
With twenty popifh tricks and ceremonies
Which I have feen thee careful to obferve:
Therefore I urge thy oath; (for that, I know,
An idiot holds his bauble for a god,

And keeps the oath, which by that god he fwears,
To that I'll urge him;)-therefore thou shalt vow
By that fame god, what god foe'er it be,

That thou ador'ft and haft in reverence,

To fave my boy, nourish and bring him up;

Moor here afk for a ladder, who earneftly wanted to have his child fav'd? Unless the poet is fuppos'd to mean for Aaron, that, if they would get him a ladder, he would refolutely hang himself out of the way, fo they would fpare the child. But I much rather fufpect, there is an old error in prefixing the names of the perfons; and that Lucius ought to call for the ladder, and then Aaron very properly entreats of Lucius to fave the child. I ventur'd to make this regulation in my SHAKESPEARE restored, and Mr. Pope has embrac'd it in his last edition,

Or elfe I will discover nought to thee.

Luc. Even by my god I fwear to thee, I will.
Aar. Firft, know thou, I begot him on the Empress.
Luc. O moft infatiate, luxurious, woman!

Aar. Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity,
To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
'Twas her two fons, that murder'd Baffianus;
They cut thy fifter's tongue, and ravish'd her,
And cut her hands, and trimm'd her as thou faw'ft.
Luc. Oh, deteftable villain! call'ft thou that trimming?
Aar. Why, fhe was wafhed, and cut, and trimm'd;
And 'twas trim fport for them that had the doing of't.
Luc. Oh, barb'rous beaftly villains like thyfelf!
Aar. Indeed, I was their tutor to inftruct them:
That codding fpirit had they from their mother,
As fure a card as ever won the fet;

That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
As true a dog as ever fought at head;·
Well; let my deeds be witness of my worth.
I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole,
Where the dead corps of Bafianus lay:
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
And hid the gold within the letter mention'd;
Confed'rate with the Queen, and her two fons.
And what not done, that thou haft cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in't?

I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand,
And when I had it, drew myself apart,
And almoft broke my heart with extream laughter.
I pry'd me through the crevice of a wall,
When for his hand he had his two fons heads;
Beheld his tears, and laugh'd fo heartily,
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his :
And when I told the Emprefs of this fport,
She fwooned almoft at my pleafing tale,
And for my tidings gave me twenty kifles.

Goth. What! can't thou fay all this, and never blush!
Aar. Ay, like a black dog, as the faying is.

Luc. Art thou not forry for these heinous deeds?

Aar. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.

Ev'n now I curfe the day (and yet I think,
Few come within the compass of my curfe)
Wherein, I did not fome notorious ill,
As kill a man, or elfe devife his death;
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accufe fome innocent, and forfwear myself;
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
Make poor mens cattle break their necks;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears:
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
And fet them upright at their dear friends doors,
Ev'n when their forrow almoft was forgot;
And on their fkins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
"Let not your forrow die, though I am dead."
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things,
As willingly as one would kill a fly :
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed,
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.

Luc. Bring down the devil, for he must not die
So fweet a death, as hanging presently.

Aar. If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire,

So I might have your company in hell,

But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

Luc. Sirs, ftop his mouth, and let him fpeak no more,

Enter Emilius.

Goth. My Lord, there is a meffenger from Rome Defires to be admitted to your prefence.

Luc. Let him come near.

Welcome, Æmilius, what's the news from Rome?
Emil. Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Goths,

The Roman Emperor greets you all by me;
And, for he understands you are in arms,
He craves a parley at your father's house,
Willing you to demand your hoftages,
And they fhall be immediately deliver❜d.
Goth. What fays our General ?

M 3

Luc. Æmilius, let the Emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,

And we will come: march away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Titus's Palace in Rome.

Enter Tamora, Chiron and Demetrius, difguis'd.

Tam. T

Hus, in these ftrange and fad habiliments,

I will encounter with Andronicus :

And fay, I am Revenge fent from below,

To join with him, and right his heinous wrongs:
Knock at the ftudy, where, they fay, he keeps,
To ruminate ftrange plots of dire revenge;
Tell him, Revenge is come to join with him,
And work confufion on his enemies.

[They knock, and Titus appears abovsi
Tit. Who doth moleft my contemplation ?
Is it your trick to make me ope the door,
That fo my fad decrees may fly away,
And all my ftudy be to no effect?

You are deceiv'd; for what I mean to do,
See, here in bloody lines I have set down;
And what is written fhall be executed.

Tam. Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
Tit. No, not a word: how can I grace my talk,
Wanting a hand to give it that accord?

Thou haft the odds of me, therefore no more.

Tam. If thou did'ft know me, thou wouldst talk with me Tit. I am not mad; I know thee well enough; Witness this wretched ftump, these crimson lines, Witness these trenches, made by grief and care, Witness the tiring day and heavy night; Witnefs all forrow, that I know thee well For our proud Emprefs, mighty Tamora: Is not thy coming for my other hand?

Tam. Know thou, fad man, I am not Tamora:
She is thy enemy, and I thy friend;

I am Revenge, fent from th' infernal kingdom,
To cafe the gnawing vulture of thy mind,
Pworking wreakful vengeance on thy foes.

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