There is enough written upon this earth, (21) That we will prosecute (by good advice) And fee their blood, or die with this reproach] But if they endeavoured to throw off the reproach, though they fell in the attempt, they could not be properly faid to die with that reproach. Marcus muft certainly mean, that they would have revenge on their enemies, and foil their blood, rather than they would tamely fit down, and die under fuch injuries. For this reafon I have corrected the text; ere die with this reproach. And the fame emendation I have made on a paffage in Cymbeline, where it was as abfolutely neceffary. I am not to learn, that or formerly was equivalent to cre.--Or, before, ere; Gloff to Urrey's Chaucer.Or for ere, quod etiamnum in agro Lễn o`ni nfi frequentissime ufurpatur. Skinner in his Gloffary of uncommon words.-But this ufage was too obfolete for our Shakespeare's time. F VOL. XI. [oft Will blow these fands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad, Tit. No, boy, not fo; I'll teach thee another Lavinia, come; Marcus, look to my houfe: Ay, marry, will we, Sir; and we'll be waited on. That hath more fears of forrow in his heart, Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS at one door: and at another door young LUCIUS and another, with a bundle of weapons and verses writ upon them. Chi. Demetrius, here's the fon of Lucius; He hath some message to deliver us. Aar. Ay, fome mad message from his mad grand father. Boy. My Lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus; And pray the Roman gods confound you both. For villains marked with rape. May it please you, The hope of Rome; for fo he bade me fay : And fo I leave you both, like bloody villains. [Exit. Integer vita, fcelerifque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis nec arcu. Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace, I know it well: I read it in the Grammar long ago. Aar. Ay, just;---a verfe in Horace---right, you Now, what a thing it is to be an afs! [have itHere's no fond jeft; the old man hath found their guilt, (22) And fends the weapons wrapped about with lines, She would applaud Andronicus' conceit: (21) Here's no found je;] But I think I may venture to fay, here's no found fenfe. Doubtless the Poet wrote, here's no fond jeft, i. e. no idle, foolish one; but a farcafm deliberately thrown, and grounded on reason. And now, young Lords, was't not a happy ftar Aar. Had he not reafon, Lord Demetrius? Chi. A charitable wifh, and full of love. Aar. Here lacketh but our mother to fay Amen. Chi. And that would fhe for twenty thoufand more. Dem. Come, let us go, and pray to all the gods. For our beloved mother in her pains. Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us [Flourish Dem. Why do the Emperor's trumpets flourish. over. thus? Chi. Belike, for joy the Emperor hath a fon. Enter Nurfe, with a Black a-moor Child.. O, tell me, did you fee Aaron the Moor? Bar, Well, more or lefs, or ne'er a whit at all, Here Aaron is, and what with Aaron now? Nur. O gentle Aaron, we are all undone : Now help, or woe betide thee evermore ! Aar. Why, what a caterwauling doft thou keep? What doft thou wrap and fumble in thine arms? Nur. O that which I would hide from lieaven's. eye, Our Emprefs' fhame, and ftately Rome's difgrace.. She is delivered, Lords, fhe is delivered, Nur. I mean, she is brought to bed. Aar. Why, then she is the devil's dam: a joyful Nur. A joylefs, difmal, black, and forrowful iffue. Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad, Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime. The Emprefs fends it thee, thy ftamp, thy feal, And bids thee chriften it with thy dagger's point. Aar. Out, out, you whore ! is black fo bafe a hue; Sweet blowfe, you are a beauteous bloffom, fure. Aar. That which thou canst not undo. Dem. And therein, hellith dog, thou haft undone. Woe to her chance, and damned her loathed choice,, Accurfed the offspring of fo foul a fiend! (13) Chi. Thou haft undone our mother. Dem. And therein, hellish dog, thou haft undone.-] There is no neceflity for this break, had our editors collated the old Quarto, and restored the fupplemental half line which I have added from thence. They did not, I dare fay, fupprefs it out of modefty. It contains a mode of expreffion, which, though fomewhat coarfe, is ufed by our Author in other places. Clown. Yonder man is carried to prison. Clown. A woman.. Meaf. for Meafs eyes Had fervants true about me, that bear Winter's Tules |