Welcome to PhiloLogic  
   home |  the ARTFL project |  download |  documentation |  sample databases |   
John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.

Previous section

Next section

SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Demetrius, and Aaron; Chiron meeting them; with him, 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 us.

Aar.
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

Boy.
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 decipher'd, that's the news,
For villains mark'd with rape.—May it please you, lords,
My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armory,
To gratify your honourable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bad me say,
And so I do; and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both,—like bloody villains.
[Exeunt Boy, and Attendant.

Dem.
What's here? A scrowl; and written round about?
Let's see: [reads.



Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus,
Non eget Mauri jaculis nec arcu.

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 fond jest: the old man hath found their guilt;
And sends the weapons wrapt about with lines,
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick:
But, were our witty empress well a-foot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.

-- 52 --


But let her rest in her unrest a-while.—
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
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 see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Had he not reason, lord Demetrius?
&blquo;Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

&blquo;Dem.
&blquo;I would we had a thousand Roman dames
&blquo;At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;A charitable wish, and full of love.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Here's lack but of your mother, to say Amen.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;And that would she for twenty thousand more.

&blquo;Dem.
&blquo;Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods
&blquo;For our beloved mother in her pains.

&blquo;Aar.
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
[Trumpets within.

Dem.
Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?

Chi.
Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

Dem.
Soft; who comes here?
Enter a Nurse hastily, with a Child in her Arms.

Nur.
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 caterwawling 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.
I mean, she is brought a-bed.

Aar.
Well, Heav'n* note
Give her good rest! What hath it sent her?

&blquo;Nur.
&blquo;A devil.

-- 53 --

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;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.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Out on you, whore! is black so base a hue!—
&blquo;Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.

&blquo;Dem.
&blquo;Villain, what hast thou done?

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Done! that which thou
&blquo;Canst not undo.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;Thou hast undone our mother.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Villain, I have done thy mother.

&blquo;Dem.
&blquo;And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone.
&blquo;Woe to her chance! and damn'd her loathed choice!
&blquo;Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend!

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;It shall not live.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;It shall not die.

&blquo;Nur.
&blquo;Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;What, must it, nurse? then let no man, but I,
&blquo;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 dispatch it.

Aar.
Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up. [Taking the Child from the Nurse, and drawing.
Stay, murtherous 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 scymitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
&blquo;I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
&blquo;With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
&blquo;Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
&blquo;Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
&blquo;What, what; ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
&blquo;Ye white-lim'd walls! ye ale-house painted signs!
&blquo;Coal-black is better than another hue,
&blquo;In that it scorns to bear another hue:
&blquo;For all the water in the ocean
&blquo;Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
&blquo;Although she lave them hourly in the flood.—

-- 54 --


Tell the emperess from me, I am of age
To keep mine own; excuse it how she can* note.

Dem.
Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus!

Aar.
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.

Dem.
By this our mother is for ever sham'd.

Chi.
Rome will despise her for this foul escape.

Nur.
The emperor, in his rage, will doom her death.

&blquo;Chi.
&blquo;I blush, to think upon this ignominy.

&blquo;Aar.
&blquo;Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
&blquo;Fie, treacherous hue! that will betray with blushing
&blquo;The close enacts and counsels of the heart.
&blquo;Here's a young lad fram'd of another leer:
&blquo;Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father;
&blquo;As who should say, Old lad, I am thine own.
&blquo;He is your brother, lords; sensibly fed
&blquo;Of that self blood that first gave life to you;
&blquo;And, from that womb, where you imprison'd were,
&blquo;He is enfranchised and come to light:
&blquo;Nay, he's your brother by the surer side,
&blquo;Although my seal be stamped in his face.

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

Dem.
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.

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.

Dem.
How many women saw this child of his?

Aar.
Why, so, brave lords? When we all 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?

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

-- 55 --

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:— [kills her* note.
&blquo;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:
Shall she live, to betray this guilt of ours,
A long-tongu'd babling 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.
But, hark ye, lords; ye see, I have given her physic;
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.

Dem.
For this care of Tamora,
Herself, and hers, are highly bound to thee.
[Exeunt Chi. and Dem. 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-lip'd slave, I'll bear you hence;
For it is you that puts us to our shifts:

-- 56 --


I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,
And feast 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. [Exit.
Previous section

Next section


John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
Powered by PhiloLogic