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Thy Child shall live, and I will see it Nourish'd.
Aar. And if it please thee? why assure thee, Lucius, 'Twill vex thy Soul to hear what I shall speak: For I must talk of Murthers, Rapes, and Massacres, A&s of black Night, abominable Deeds, Complots of Mischief, Treason, Villanies, Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd, And this shall all be buried by my Death, Unless thou swear to me my Child shall live.
Luc. Tell on thy mind, I say thy Child shall live.
Aar. Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
Luc. Who should I swear by?
Thou believest no God,
That granted, how can'st thou believe an Oath :
Aar. What if I do not, as indeed I do not,
Yet for I know thou art Religious,
And hast a thing within thee called Conscience,
With twenty Popish Tricks and Ceremonie
Which I have seen thee careful to observe:
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 swears,
To that I'll urge him;
therefore thou shalt vow
By that same God, what God so e'er it be
That thou adorest and haft in reverence,
To save my Boy, nourish and bring him up,
Or else I will discover nought to thee.
Luc. Even by my God I swear to thee, I will,
Aar. First know thou,
I begot him on thy Emperess.
Luc. O most 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 Sons that murdered Baffianus, They cut thy Sister's Tongue, and Ravilh'd her, And cut her Hands off, and trimm'd her as thou saw'st,
Luc. Oh deteftable Villain ! Call'st thou that trimming?
Aar. Why she was walh’d, and cut, and trimm'd; And 'twas trim sport for them that had the doing of it.
Luc. Oh barbarous beastly Villains, like thy self !
far. Indeed, I was their Tutor to inftrue them,
That codding Spirit had they from their Mother,
As sure a Card, as ever won the Set ;
That bloody mind I think they learn'd of me,
As true a Dog as ever fought at Head;
Well, let my Deeds be Witnels of my Worth.
I train'd thy Brethren to that gusleful hole,
Where the dead Corps of Ballianus tay:
I wrote the Letter that thy father found,
And hid the Gold within the Letter mention'd,
Confederate with the Queen and her two Sons.
And what not done that thou baft cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of Mischief in it?
I plaid the Cheater for thy Father's Hand,
And when I had it, drew my felf apart,
And almost broke my Heart with extream Laughter.
I pried me through the Crevice of a Wall,
When for his Hand, he had his two Sons Heads,
Beheld his Tears, and laughed fo heartily,
That both mine Eyes were rainy like to his :
And when I told the Empress of this Sport,
She swooned almost at my pleafing Tale,
And for my Tidings, gave me twenty Killes.
Goth. Whaç can it thou fay all this, and never blush?
Aar. Ay, like a black Dng, as the saying is.
Luc. Art thou not sorry for these hainous Deeds?
Aar. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the Day, and yet I think
Few come within the Compass of my Curse,
Wherein I did not som: notorious I,
As kill a Man, .or else devise his Death,
Ravish a Miid, or plor the way to do it,
Accuse fome Innocent, and forswear my fell,
Set deadly Enmity between two Friends,
Alake poor Mens Cattle break their Necks,
Set Fire on Barns and Hay.stacks in th: Night,
And bid the Owners quench them with their Tears.;
Oft have I digg'd up dead Men from their Graves,
And let them upright at their dear Friends Doors,
Even when their Sorrow.almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the Bark of Trees,
Have with my Koife carved in Roman Letters,
Let not your Sorrow 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 sweet 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 bave your Company in Hell,
But to torment you with my bitter Tongue.
Luc. Sirs, stop his Mouth, and let him speak no more.
Goth. My Lord, there is a Messenger from Romo
Delires to be admitted to your Presence.
Luc. Let him come near.
Welcome, Æmilius, what's the News from Rome?
Ami. Lord Lucius; and you Princes of the Gorbs,
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 Hostages,
And they shall be immediately delivered.
Goth. What says our General ?
Luc. Æmilius, let the Emperor give his Pledges
Unto my Father, and my Uncle Marcus,
And we will come : March away.
[Exeuns. SCENE II. Titus's Palace
Titus's Palace in Rome. . Enter Tamora, Chiron and Demetrius, Disguis'd. Tam. Thus in this strange and fad Habiliments, I will encounter with Andronicus, And say, I am Revenge sent from below, To join with him, and right his heinous Wrongs: Knock at the Study, where they say he keeps, To ruminate ftrange Plots of dire Revenge; Tell him Revenge is come to join with him, And work Confusion on his Enemies. [They knock, and Titus appears
Tit. Who doth moleft my Contemplation?
Is it your trick to make me ope the Door,
That so my fad Decrees may Ay away,
And all my Scudy 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, shall 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 A&ion?
Thou hast the odds of me, therefore no more.
Tam. If thou didft know me,
Thou would'It talk with me.
Tit. I am not mad, I know thee well enough,
Witness this wretched Stump,
Witness these Crimson Lines,
Witness these Trenches, made by Grief and Care,
Witness the tyring Day and heavy Night ;
Witness all Sorrow, that I knew thee well
For our proud Empress, 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, sent from the infernal Kingdom,
To ease the gnawing Vulture of thy Mind,
By working wreakful Vengeance on thy Foes.
Come down and welcome me to this World's light ;
Confer with me of Murder and of Death,
There's not a hollow Cave, or lurking place,
No vast obscurity or misty Vale,
Where bloody Murther or detefted Rape,
Can couch for fear, but I will find them out,
And in their Ears tell them my dreadful Name,
Revenge, which makes the foul Offenders quake.
Tit. Art thou Revenge? And art thou sent to me,
To be a Torment to mine Enemies?
Tam. I am; therefore come down and welcome me.
Tit. Do me some Service, e'er I come to thee: Lo by thy lide, where Rape and Murder stands, Now give some furance that thou art Revenge, Scab them, or tear them on thy Chariot Wheels,
And then I'll come and be thy Waggoner,
And whirl along with thee about the Globes:
Provide two proper Palfries black as Jet,
To hale thy vengeful Waggon swift away,
And find out Murders in their guilty Caves.
And when thy Car is loaden with their Heads,
I will dismount, and by thy Waggon Wheel
Trot like a servile Foot-man all day long;
Even from Hyperion's rising in the East,
Untill his very downfall in the Sea.
And day by day I'll do this heavy Task,
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
Tam. These are my Ministers, and come with me.
Tit. Are they thy Ministers; what arethey calld?
Tam. Rapine and Murder, therefore called so,
Cause they take Vengeance on such kind of Men.
Tit. Good Lord, how like the Empress Sons they are,
And you the Empress: But we Worldly Men,
Have miserable mad mistaking Eyes :
O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee,
And if one Arm's embracement will content thee,
I will embrace thee in it by and by. [Exit Titus from above.
Tam. This closing with him fits his Lunacy,
What e'er I forge to feed his brain-fick fits,
Do you uphold, and maintain in your Speech
For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
And being credulous in this mad Thought,
Ill make him send for Lucius his Son :
And whilft I at a Banquet hold him sure,
I'll find some cunning Prađice out of Hand,
To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
Or at the least make them his Enemies :
See here he comes, and I must play my Theam. .
Tit. Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:
Welcome, dread Fury, to my woful House;
Rapine and Murther, you are welcom too:
How like the Empress, and her Sons you are !
Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor;
Could not all Hell afford you such a Devil?
For well I wot, the Empress never wags,
But in her Company there is Moor;