AARON.
My mistress is my mistress; this my self;
The vigour and the picture of my youth.
This before all the world do I prefer;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
DEMETRIUS.
By this our mother is for ever shamed.
CHIRON.
Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
NURSE.
The emperor in his rage will doom her death.
CHIRON.
I blush to think upon this ignomy.
AARON.
Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears.
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
The close enacts and counsels of thy heart!
Here’s a young lad framed of another leer.
Look how the black slave smiles upon the father,
As who should say “Old lad, I am thine own.”
He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
Of that self blood that first gave life to you;
And from your womb where you imprisoned were
He is enfranchised and come to light.
Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stamped in his face.
NURSE.
Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?
DEMETRIUS.
Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice.
Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
AARON.
Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
My son and I will have the wind of you.
Keep there. Now talk at pleasure of your safety.
[They sit.]