Look, how the black flave fmiles upon the father;
As who should fay, "Old lad, I am thine own."
He is your brother, lords; fenfibly fed

Of that felf-blood, that firft gave life to you;
And from that womb, where you imprifon'd were,
He is infranchised, and come to light;

Nay, he's your brother by the furer fide;
Although my feal is ftamped in his face.

Nur. Aaron, what fhall I fay unto the emperefs?
Dem. Advife thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice,
Save you the child, fo we may be all fafe.

Aar. Then fit we down, and let us all confult. My fon and I will have the wind of you; Keep there; now talk at pleasure of your fafety. [They fit on the ground. Dem. How many women faw this child of his? Aar. Why, fo; brave lords, When we all join in league,

I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lionefs,
The ocean, fwells not fo as Aaron storms.
But fay again, how many faw the child?
Nur. Cornelia the midwife, and myself,
And no one else but the deliver'd emperefs.

Aar. The emperefs, the midwife, and yourself-
Two may keep countel when the third's away:
Go to the emperefs, tell her this I faid-

[He kills ber. Week,-week!-So cries a pig, prepar'd to the fpit. Dem. What mean'ft thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this?

Aar. O lord, fir, 'tis a deed of policy:
Shall the live to betray this guilt of ours?
A long-tongu'd babling goffip? 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 fhall be advanc'd,
And be received for the emperor's heir,
And fubftituted in the place of mine,

To calm this tempeft whirling in the court;
And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
Hark ye, my lords, ye fee, I have given her phyfick;
[Pointing to the nurse.
And you must needs bestow her funeral;
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms.
This done, fee that you take no longer days,
But fend the midwife prefently to me.
The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Chi. Aaron, I fee, thou wilt not truft the air
With fecrets.

Dem. For this care of Tamora,

Herfelf and hers are highly bound to thee. [Exeunt.
Aar. Now to the Goths, as fwift as swallow flies,
There to difpofe this treasure in my arms,
And fecretly to greet the emperefs' friends.
Come on, you thick-lip'd flave, I bear you hence,
For it is you that put us to our shifts;

I'll make you feed on berries, and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and fuck the goat,
And cabin in a cave; and bring you up
To be a warrior, and command a camp.

9 Go pack with him

[Exit.

-] Pack here feems to have the

meaning of make a bargain. Or it may mean, as in the phrase of modern gamefters, to act collufively.

And mighty dukes pack knaves for half a crown.

POPE.

SCENE

Enter Titus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other Gentlemen with bows; and Titus bears the arrows with letters on the end of them.

Tit. Come, Marcus, come; kinfmen, this is the way.

Sir boy, now let me fee your archery.

Look, ye draw home enough, and 'tis there ftraight; Terras Aftrea reliquit-be you remember'd, MarcusShe's gone, fhe's fled-Sirs, take you to your tools. You, coufins, fhall go found the ocean,

And caft your nets; haply, you may find her in the fea;

Yet there's as little juftice as at land—

No, Publius and Sempronius, you must do it,
'Tis you muft dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmoft centre of the earth;
Then when you come to Pluto's region,
I pray you, deliver this petition,

Tell him it is for juftice, and for aid;
And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with forrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome!-Well, well, I made thee miserable,
What time I threw the people's fuffrages
On him, that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man of war unfearch'd:
This wicked emperor may have fhipp'd her hence,
And, kinfmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
Mar. Oh, Publius, is not this a heavy cafe,
To fee thy noble uncle thus diftra&t?

Pub. Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns,
By day and night to attend him carefully,
H h

VOL. VIII.

And

And feed his humour kindly as we may,
Till time beget fome careful remedy.

Mar. Kinimen, his forrows are past remedy:
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.

Tit. Publius, how now? how now, my mafters, What, have you met with her?

Pub. No, my good lord; but Pluto fends you word,

If you will have revenge from hell you fhall.
Marry, for justice, fhe is fo employ'd,

He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or fomewhere else,
So that perforce you needs muft ftay a time.

Tit. He doth me wrong to feed me with delays; I'll dive into the burning lake below,

And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
Marcus, we are but fhrubs, no cedars we,
No big-bon❜d men, fram'd of the Cyclops' fize,
But metal, Marcus, fteel to the very back;

'Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can

bear.

And fith there is no juftice in earth nor hell,

We will folicit heaven, and move the Gods,

To fend down juftice for to wreak our wrongs:
Come, to this gear; you are a good archer, Marcus.
[He gives them the arrows.
Ad Jovem, that's for you-here, ad Apollinem-
Ad Martem, that's for myself;

Here, boy, to Pallas-here, to Mercury-
To Saturn and to Cœlus-not to Saturnine-
You were as good to fhoot against the wind.
To it, boy; Marcus-loofe when I bid:
O' my word, I have written to effect,
There's not a God left unfolicited.

1 Yet wrung with

or ftrain his back.

wrongs, -] To wring a horfe is to prefs

JOHNSON.

Mar.

Mar. Kinsmen, shoot all your fhafts into the court. We will afflict the emperor in his pride. [They shoot. Tit. Now, masters, draw; oh, well faid, Lucius : Good boy, in Virgo's lap, give it to Pallas.

Mar. My lord, I am a mile beyond the moon ; Your letter is with Jupiter by this.

2

Tit. Ha, Publius, Publius, what haft thou done? See, fee, thou haft fhot off one of Taurus' horns. Mar. This was the sport, my lord; when Publius fhot,

The bull being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock, That down fell both the ram's horns in the court, And who should find them but the emprefs' villain? She laugh'd, and told the Moor, he fhould not chufe But give them to his master for a prefent.

Tit. Why, there it goes. God give your lordship joy!

Enter a Clown, with a basket and two pigeons.

News, news from heav'n; Marcus, the poft is come,
Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
Shall I have juftice? what fays Jupiter?

Clown. Who? the gibbet maker? he fays, that he hath taken them down again, for the man muft not be hang'd till the next week.

Tit. Tut, what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
Clown. Alas, fir, I know not Jupiter,

I never drank with him in all my life.

Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier? Clown. Ay, of my pigeons, fir, nothing else. Tit. Why, didft thou not come from heaven? Clown. From heaven? alas, fir, I never came there. God forbid, I should be fo bold to prefs, into heaven

· —I am a mile beyond the moon ;] The folios 1623 and 1632 read, -I aym a mile beyond the moon.

STEEVENS.