And lay it by the angry northern wind Bor. I fay, my lord, that if I were a man, oft For this ungrateful country done the like. not? Bor. Ay, with my dagger in their bofoms, grandfire. TIT. No, boy, not fo; I'll teach thee another course. Lavinia, come:-Marcus, look to my house; Ay, marry, will we, fir; and we'll be waited on. groan, And not relent, or not compaffion him? That hath more fears of forrow in his heart, the angry northern wind Will blow thefe fands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad,] Foliis tantum ne carmina manda, "Ne turbata volent rapidis ludibria ventis." Æn. VI. 75. · STEEVENS. Than foe-men's marks upon his batter'd shield: But yet so juft, that he will not revenge :Revenge the heavens 5 for old Andronicus! [Exit. SCENE II. The fame. A Room in the Palace. Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, at one Door; at another Door, young LUCIUS, and an Attendant, with a Bundle of Weapons, and Verfes writ upon them. CHI. Demetrius, here's the fon of Lucius; He hath fome meffage to deliver to us. AAR. Ay, fome mad meffage from his mad grandfather. Bor. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus ;And pray the Roman gods, confound you both. [Afide. DEM. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news? 5 Revenge the heavens-] We fhould read: Revenge thee, heavens! It fhould be: Revenge, ye heavens! WARBURTON, Ye was by the transcriber taken for ye, the. JOHNSON. I believe the old reading is right, and fignifies-may the heavens revenge, &c. STEEVENS. I believe we should read: Revenge then heavens. TYRWHITT. Gramercy,] i. e. grand merci; great thanks. STEEVENS. Bor. That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, For villains mark'd with rape. [Afide.] please you, My grandfire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me May it The hope of Rome; for fo he bade me fay; And fo I leave you both, [Afde.] like bloody villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. DEM. What's here? A fcroll; and written round about? Let's fee; Integer vitæ, fcelerifque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu. CHI. O, 'tis a verfe in Horace; I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago. AAR. Ay, juft!-a verfe in Horace ;-right, you have it. Now, what a thing it is to be an afs! Here's no found jeft!" the old man hath found their guilt; And fends the weapons wrapp'd about with lines, Afide. Here's no found jeft!] Thus the old copies. This mode of expreffion was common formerly; fo, in King Henry IV. P. I: "Here's no fine villainy !"-We yet talk of giving a found drubbing. Mr. Theobald, however, and the modern editors, read-Here's no fond jeft. MALONE. The old reading is undoubtedly the true one. So, in King Richard III : "Good Catelby, go, effect this bufinefs foundly." See also Romeo and Juliet, A& IV. fc. v. STEEVENS. the weapons-] Edit. 1600,-them weapons. TODD. That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick. But were our witty empress well a-foot, Afide. And now, young lords, was't not a happy star To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing. AAR. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? you not use his daughter very friendly? DEM. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames At fuch a bay, by turn to ferve our luft. CHI. A charitable wish, and full of love. AAR. Here lacks but your mother for to fay amen. CHI. And that would the for twenty thousand 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 [Afide. Flourish. o'er. DEM. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus ? CH. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a fon. Enter a Nurfe, with a Black-a-moor Child in her Nur. Arms, Good morrow, lords: O, tell me, did you fee Aaron the Moor. AAR. Well, more, or less, 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 heaven's eye, Our emprefs' fhame, and stately Rome's difgrace;She is deliver'd, lords, fhe is deliver'd. AAR. To whom? NUR. AAR. I mean, she's brought to bed. Give her good reft! What hath he fent her? Nur. Well, God A devil. AAR. Why, then she's the devil's dam; a joyful iffue. NUR. Ajoyless, 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 base a hue? 9 Out, out,] The fecond interjection, which is wanting in the old copies, I have inferted for the fake of metre. STEEVENS. |