Shakespeare's First Folio Part 492

Luci. Too like the Syre for euer being good.

First hang the Child that he may see it sprall, A sight to vexe the Fathers soule withall

Aron. Get me a Ladder Lucius, saue the Childe, And beare it from me to the Empresse: If thou do this, Ile shew thee wondrous things, That highly may aduantage thee to heare; If thou wilt not, befall what may befall, Ile speake no more: but vengeance rot you all

Luci. Say on, and if it please me which thou speak'st, Thy child shall liue, and I will see it Nourisht

Aron. And if it please thee? why a.s.sure thee Lucius, 'Twill vexe thy soule to heare what I shall speake: For I must talke of Murthers, Rapes, and Ma.s.sacres, Acts of Blacke-night, abhominable Deeds, Complots of Mischiefe, Treason, Villanies Ruthfull to heare, yet pittiously perform'd, And this shall all be buried by my death, Vnlesse thou sweare to me my Childe shall liue

Luci. Tell on thy minde, I say thy Childe shall liue

Aron. Sweare that he shall, and then I will begin

Luci. Who should I sweare by, Thou beleeuest no G.o.d, That graunted, how can'st thou beleeue an oath?

Aron. 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 trickes and Ceremonies, Which I haue seene thee carefull to obserue: Therefore I vrge thy oath, for that I know An Ideot holds his Bauble for a G.o.d, And keepes the oath which by that G.o.d he sweares, To that Ile vrge him: therefore thou shalt vow By that same G.o.d, what G.o.d so ere it be That thou adorest, and hast in reuerence, To saue my Boy, to nourish and bring him vp, Ore else I will discouer nought to thee

Luci. Euen by my G.o.d I sweare to thee I will

Aron. First know thou, I begot him on the Empresse

Luci. Oh most Insatiate luxurious woman!

Aron. Tut Lucius, this was but a deed of Charitie, To that which thou shalt heare of me anon, 'Twas her two Sonnes that murdered Ba.s.sia.n.u.s, They cut thy Sisters tongue, and rauisht her, And cut her hands off, and trim'd her as thou saw'st

Lucius. Oh detestable villaine!

Call'st thou that Tr.i.m.m.i.n.g?

Aron. Why she was washt, and cut, and trim'd, And 'twas trim sport for them that had the doing of it

Luci. Oh barbarous beastly villaines like thy selfe!

Aron. Indeede, I was their Tutor to instruct them That Codding spirit had they from their Mother, As sure a Card as euer wonne the Set: That b.l.o.o.d.y minde I thinke they learn'd of me, As true a Dog as euer fought at head.

Well, let my Deeds be witnesse of my worth: I trayn'd thy Bretheren to that guilefull Hole, Where the dead Corps of Ba.s.sia.n.u.s lay: I wrote the Letter, that thy Father found, And hid the Gold within the Letter mention'd.

Confederate with the Queene, and her two Sonnes, And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue, Wherein I had no stroke of Mischeife in it.

I play'd the Cheater for thy Fathers hand, And when I had it, drew my selfe apart, And almost broke my heart with extreame laughter.

I pried me through the Creuice of a Wall, When for his hand, he had his two Sonnes heads, Beheld his teares, and laught so hartily, That both mine eyes were rainie like to his: And when I told the Empresse of this sport, She sounded almost at my pleasing tale, And for my tydings, gaue me twenty kisses

Goth. What canst thou say all this, and neuer blush?

Aron. I, like a blacke Dogge, as the saying is

Luci. Art thou not sorry for these hainous deedes?

Aron. I, that I had not done a thousand more: Euen now I curse the day, and yet I thinke Few come within few compa.s.se of my curse, Wherein I did not some Notorious ill, As kill a man, or else deuise his death, Rauish a Maid, or plot the way to do it, Accuse some Innocent, and forsweare my selfe, Set deadly Enmity betweene two Friends, Make poore mens Cattell breake their neckes, Set fire on Barnes and Haystackes in the night, And bid the Owners quench them with the teares: Oft haue I dig'd vp dead men from their graues, And set them vpright at their deere Friends doore, Euen when their sorrowes almost was forgot, And on their skinnes, as on the Barke of Trees, Haue with my knife carued in Romaine Letters, Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.

Tut, I haue done a thousand dreadfull things As willingly, as one would kill a Fly, And nothing greeues me hartily indeede, But that I cannot doe ten thousand more

Luci. Bring downe the diuell, for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently

Aron. If there be diuels, would I were a deuill, To liue and burne in euerlasting fire, So I might haue your company in h.e.l.l, But to torment you with my bitter tongue

Luci. Sirs stop his mouth, & let him speake no more.

Enter Emillius.

Goth. My Lord, there is a Messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence

Luc. Let him come neere.

Welcome Emillius, what the newes from Rome?

Emi. Lord Lucius, and you Princes of the Gothes, The Romaine Emperour greetes you all by me, And for he vnderstands you are in Armes, He craues a parly at your Fathers house Willing you to demand your Hostages, And they shall be immediately deliuered

Goth. What saies our Generall?

Luc. Emillius, let the Emperour giue his pledges Vnto my Father, and my Vncle Marcus,

Flourish.

And we will come: march away.

Exeunt.

Enter Tamora, and her two Sonnes disguised.

Tam. Thus in this strange and sad Habilliament, I will encounter with Andronicus, And say, I am Reuenge sent from below, To ioyne with him and right his hainous wrongs: Knocke at his study where they say he keepes, To ruminate strange plots of dire Reuenge, Tell him Reuenge is come to ioyne with him, And worke confusion on his Enemies.

They knocke and t.i.tus opens his study dore.

t.i.t. Who doth mollest my Contemplation?

Is it your tricke to make me ope the dore, That so my sad decrees may flie away, And all my studie be to no effect?

You are deceiu'd, for what I meane to do, See heere in b.l.o.o.d.y lines I haue set downe: And what is written shall be executed

Tam. t.i.tus, I am come to talke with thee, t.i.t. No not a word: how can I grace my talke, Wanting a hand to giue it action, Thou hast the ods of me, therefore no more

Tam. If thou did'st know me, Thou would'st talke with me

t.i.t. I am not mad, I know thee well enough, Witnesse this wretched stump, Witnesse these crimson lines, Witnesse these Trenches made by griefe and care, Witnesse the tyring day, and heauie night, Witnesse all sorrow, that I know thee well For our proud Empresse, Mighty Tamora: Is not thy comming for my other hand?

Tamo. Know thou sad man, I am not Tamora, She is thy Enemie, and I thy Friend, I am Reuenge sent from th' infernall Kingdome, To ease the gnawing Vulture of the mind, By working wreakefull vengeance on my Foes: Come downe and welcome me to this worlds light, Conferre with me of Murder and of Death, Ther's not a hollow Caue or lurking place, No Vast obscurity, or Misty vale, Where b.l.o.o.d.y Murther or detested Rape, Can couch for feare, but I will finde them out, And in their eares tell them my dreadfull name, Reuenge, which makes the foule offenders quake

t.i.t. Art thou Reuenge? and art thou sent to me, To be a torment to mine Enemies?

Tam. I am, therefore come downe and welcome me

t.i.t. Doe me some seruice ere I come to thee: Loe by thy side where Rape and Murder stands, Now giue some surance that thou art Reuenge, Stab them, or teare them on thy Chariot wheeles, And then Ile come and be thy Waggoner, And whirle along with thee about the Globes.

Prouide thee two proper Palfries, as blacke as Iet, To hale thy vengefull Waggon swift away, And finde out Murder in their guilty cares.

And when thy Car is loaden with their heads, I will dismount, and by the Waggon wheele, Trot like a Seruile footeman all day long, Euen from Eptons rising in the East, Vntill his very downefall in the Sea.

And day by day Ile do this heauy taske, So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there

Tam. These are my Ministers, and come with me

t.i.t. Are them thy Ministers, what are they call'd?

Tam. Rape and Murder, therefore called so, Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men

t.i.t. Good Lord how like the Empresse Sons they are, And you the Empresse: But we worldly men, Haue miserable mad mistaking eyes: Oh sweet Reuenge, now do I come to thee, And if one armes imbracement will content thee, I will imbrace thee in it by and by

Tam. This closing with him, fits his Lunacie, What ere I forge to feede his braine-sicke fits, Do you vphold, and maintaine in your speeches, For now he firmely takes me for Reuenge, And being Credulous in this mad thought, Ile make him send for Lucius his Sonne, And whil'st I at a Banquet hold him sure, Ile find some cunning practise out of hand To scatter and disperse the giddie Gothes, Or at the least make them his Enemies: See heere he comes, and I must play my theame

t.i.t. Long haue I bene forlorne, and all for thee, Welcome dread Fury to my woefull house, Rapine and Murther, you are welcome too, How like the Empresse and her Sonnes you are.

Well are you fitted, had you but a Moore, Could not all h.e.l.l afford you such a deuill?