Shakespeare's First Folio Part 490

My sonne and I will haue the winde of you: Keepe there, now talke at pleasure of your safety

Deme. How many women saw this childe of his?

Aron. Why so braue Lords, when we ioyne in league I am a Lambe: but if you braue the Moore, The chafed Bore, the mountaine Lyonesse, The Ocean swells not so as Aaron stormes: But say againe, how many saw the childe?

Nurse. Cornelia, the midwife, and my selfe, And none else but the deliuered Empresse

Aron. The Empresse, the Midwife, and your selfe, Two may keepe counsell, when the third's away: Goe to the Empresse, tell her this I said,

He kils her

Weeke, weeke, so cries a Pigge prepared to th' spit

Deme. What mean'st thou Aron?

Wherefore did'st thou this?

Aron. O Lord sir, 'tis a deed of pollicie?

Shall she liue to betray this guilt of our's: A long tongu'd babling Gossip? No Lords no: And now be it knowne to you my full intent.

Not farre, one Muliteus my Country-man His wife but yesternight was brought to bed, His childe is like to her, faire as you are: Goe packe with them, and giue the mother gold, And tell them both the circ.u.mstance of all, And how by this their Childe shall be aduaunc'd, And be receiued for the Emperours heyre, And subst.i.tuted in the place of mine, To calme this tempest whirling in the Court, And let the Emperour dandle him for his owne, Harke ye Lords, ye see I haue giuen her physicke, And you must needs bestow her funerall, The fields are neere, and you are gallant Groomes: This done, see that you take no longer daies 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 ayre with secrets

Deme. For this care of Tamora, Her selfe, and hers are highly bound to thee.

Exeunt

Aron. Now to the Gothes, as swift as Swallow flies, There to dispose this treasure in mine armes, And secretly to greete the Empresse friends: Come on you thick-lipt-slaue, Ile beare you hence, For it is you that puts vs to our s.h.i.+fts: Ile make you feed on berries, and on rootes, And feed on curds and whay, and sucke the Goate, And cabbin in a Caue, and bring you vp To be a warriour, and command a Campe.

Exit

Enter t.i.tus, old Marcus, young Lucius, and other gentlemen with bowes, and t.i.tus beares the arrowes with Letters on the end of them.

t.i.t. Come Marcus, come, kinsmen this is the way.

Sir Boy let me see your Archerie, Looke yee draw home enough, and 'tis there straight: Terras Astrea reliquit, be you remembred Marcus.

She's gone, she's fled, sirs take you to your tooles, You Cosens shall goe sound the Ocean: And cast your nets, haply you may find her in the Sea, Yet ther's as little iustice as at Land: No Publius and Semp.r.o.nius, you must doe it, 'Tis you must dig with Mattocke, and with Spade, And pierce the inmost Center of the earth: Then when you come to Plutoes Region, I pray you deliuer him this pet.i.tion, Tell him it is for iustice, and for aide, And that it comes from old Andronicus, Shaken with sorrowes in vngratefull Rome.

Ah Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable, What time I threw the peoples suffrages On him that thus doth tyrannize ore me.

Goe get you gone, and pray be carefull all, And leaue you not a man of warre vnsearcht, This wicked Emperour may haue s.h.i.+pt her hence, And kinsmen then we may goe pipe for iustice

Marc. O Publius is not this a heauie case To see thy n.o.ble Vnckle thus distract?

Publ. Therefore my Lords it highly vs concernes, By day and night t' attend him carefully: And feede his humour kindely as we may, Till time beget some carefull remedie

Marc. Kinsmen, his sorrowes are past remedie.

Ioyne with the Gothes, and with reuengefull warre, Take wreake on Rome for this ingrat.i.tude, And vengeance on the Traytor Saturnine

t.i.t. Publius how now? how now my Maisters?

What haue you met with her?

Publ. No my good Lord, but Pluto sends you word, If you will haue reuenge from h.e.l.l you shall, Marrie for iustice she is so imploy'd, He thinkes with Ioue in heauen, or some where else: So that perforce you must needs stay a time

t.i.t. He doth me wrong to feed me with delayes, Ile diue into the burning Lake below, And pull her out of Acaron by the heeles.

Marcus we are but shrubs, no Cedars we, No big-bon'd-men, fram'd of the Cyclops size, But mettall Marcus steele to the very backe, Yet wrung with wrongs more then our backe can beare: And sith there's no iustice in earth nor h.e.l.l, We will sollicite heauen, and moue the G.o.ds To send downe Iustice for to wreake our wrongs: Come to this geare, you are a good Archer Marcus.

He giues them the Arrowes.

Ad Iouem, that's for you: here ad Appollonem, Ad Martem, that's for my selfe, Heere Boy to Pallas, heere to Mercury, To Saturnine, to Caius, not to Saturnine, You were as good to shoote against the winde.

Too it Boy, Marcus loose when I bid: Of my word, I haue written to effect, Ther's not a G.o.d left vnsollicited

Marc. Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the Court, We will afflict the Emperour in his pride

t.i.t. Now Maisters draw, Oh well said Lucius: Good Boy in Virgoes lap, giue it Pallas

Marc. My Lord, I aime a Mile beyond the Moone, Your letter is with Iupiter by this

t.i.t. Ha, ha, Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?

See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus hornes

Mar. This was the sport my Lord, when Publius shot, The Bull being gal'd, gaue Aries such a knocke, That downe fell both the Rams hornes in the Court, And who should finde them but the Empresse villaine: She laught, and told the Moore he should not choose But giue them to his Maister for a present

t.i.t. Why there it goes, G.o.d giue your Lords.h.i.+p ioy.

Enter the Clowne with a basket and two Pigeons in it.

t.i.tus. Newes, newes, from heauen, Marcus the poast is come.

Sirrah, what tydings? haue you any letters?

Shall I haue Iustice, what sayes Iupiter?

Clowne. Ho the Iibbetmaker, he sayes that he hath taken them downe againe, for the man must not be hang'd till the next weeke

t.i.t. But what sayes Iupiter I aske thee?

Clowne. Alas sir I know not Iupiter: I neuer dranke with him in all my life

t.i.t. Why villaine art not thou the Carrier?

Clowne. I of my Pigions sir, nothing else

t.i.t. Why, did'st thou not come from heauen?

Clowne. From heauen? Alas sir, I neuer came there, G.o.d forbid I should be so bold, to presse to heauen in my young dayes. Why I am going with my pigeons to the Tribunall Plebs, to take vp a matter of brawle, betwixt my Vncle, and one of the Emperialls men

Mar. Why sir, that is as fit as can be to serue for your Oration, and let him deliuer the Pigions to the Emperour from you

t.i.t. Tell mee, can you deliuer an Oration to the Emperour with a Grace?

Clowne. Nay truely sir, I could neuer say grace in all my life

t.i.t. Sirrah come hither, make no more adoe, But giue your Pigeons to the Emperour, By me thou shalt haue Iustice at his hands.

Hold, hold, meane while her's money for thy charges.

Giue me pen and inke.

Sirrah, can you with a Grace deliuer a Supplication?

Clowne. I sir t.i.tus. Then here is a Supplication for you, and when you come to him, at the first approach you must kneele, then kisse his foote, then deliuer vp your Pigeons, and then looke for your reward. Ile be at hand sir, see you do it brauely

Clowne. I warrant you sir, let me alone

t.i.t. Sirrha hast thou a knife? Come let me see it.

Heere Marcus, fold it in the Oration, For thou hast made it like an humble Suppliant: And when thou hast giuen it the Emperour, Knocke at my dore, and tell me what he sayes

Clowne. G.o.d be with you sir, I will.