Rome. Before the Palace. |
|
Enter AARON. |
Aar. Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, |
Safe out of Fortune's shot; and sits aloft, |
Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash, |
Advanc'd above pale envy's threat'ning reach. |
As when the golden sun salutes the morn, |
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, |
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach; |
And overlooks the highest-peering hills; |
So Tamora. |
Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait |
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. |
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts |
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, |
And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long |
Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains, |
And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes |
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. |
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! |
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, |
To wait upon this new-made empress. |
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, |
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, |
This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, |
And see his ship wrack and his commonweal's. |
Holla! what storm is this? |
|
Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving. |
Dem. Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge |
And manners, to intrude where I am grac'd, |
And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. |
Chi. Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all |
And so in this, to bear me down with braves. |
'Tis not the difference of a year or two |
Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: |
I am as able and as fit as thou |
To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; |
And that my sword upon thee shall approve, |
And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. |
Aar. Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace. |
Dem. Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis'd, |
Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, |
Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? |
Go to; have your lath glu'd within your sheath |
Till you know better how to handle it. |
Chi. Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, |
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. |
Dem. Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? [They draw. |
Aar. Why, how now, lords! |
So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, |
And maintain such a quarrel openly? |
Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: |
I would not for a million of gold |
The cause were known to them it most concerns; |
Nor would your noble mother for much more |
Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. |
For shame, put up. |
Dem. Not I, till I have sheath'd |
My rapier in his bosom, and withal |
Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat |
That he hath breath'd in my dishonour here. |
Chi. For that I am prepar'd and full resolv'd, |
Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, |
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform! |
Aar. Away, I say! |
Now, by the gods that war-like Goths adore, |
This petty brabble will undo us all. |
Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous |
It is to jet upon a prince's right? |
What! is Lavinia then become so loose, |
Or Bassianus so degenerate, |
That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd |
Without controlment, justice, or revenge? |
Young lords, beware! an should the empress know |
This discord's ground, the music would not please. |
Chi. I care not, I, knew she and all the world: |
I love Lavinia more than all the world. |
Dem. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: |
Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. |
Aar. Why, are ye mad? or know ye not in Rome |
How furious and impatient they be, |
And cannot brook competitors in love? |
I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths |
By this device. |
Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths |
Would I propose, to achieve her whom I love. |
Aar. To achieve her! how? |
Dem. Why mak'st thou it so strange? |
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; |
She is a woman, therefore may be won; |
She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd. |
What, man! more water glideth by the mill |
Than wots the miller of; and easy it is |
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: |
Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother, |
Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. |
Aar. [Aside.] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. |
Dem. Then why should he despair that knows to court it |
With words, fair looks, and liberality? |
What! hast thou not full often struck a doe, |
And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? |
Aar. Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so |
Would serve your turns. |
Chi. Ay, so the turn were serv'd. |
Dem. Aaron, thou hast hit it. |
Aar. Would you had hit it too! |
Then should not we be tir'd with this ado. |
Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools |
To square for this? Would it offend you then |
That both should speed? |
Chi. Faith, not me. |
Dem. Nor me, so I were one. |
Aar. For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: |
'Tis policy and stratagem must do |
That you affect; and so must you resolve, |
That what you cannot as you would achieve, |
You must perforce accomplish as you may. |
Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste |
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. |
A speedier course than lingering languishment |
Must we pursue, and I have found the path. |
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; |
There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: |
The forest walks are wide and spacious, |
And many unfrequented plots there are |
Fitted by kind for rape and villany: |
Single you thither then this dainty doe, |
And strike her home by force, if not by words: |
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. |
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit |
To villany and vengeance consecrate, |
Will we acquaint with all that we intend; |
And she shall file our engines with advice, |
That will not suffer you to square yourselves, |
But to your wishes' height advance you both. |
The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, |
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: |
The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; |
There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns; |
There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, |
And revel in Lavinia's treasury. |
Chi. Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice. |
Dem. Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream |
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits, |
Per Styga, per manes vehor. [Exeunt. |
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