LUCIUS.
I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
Enter a Goth, leading of Aaron with his Child in his arms.
SECOND GOTH.
Renowned Lucius, from our troops I strayed
To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
I made unto the noise, when soon I heard
The crying babe controlled with this discourse:
“Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dame!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother’s look,
Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor.
But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
Peace, villain, peace!” even thus he rates the babe,
“For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth,
Who, when he knows thou art the empress’ babe,
Will hold thee dearly for thy mother’s sake.”
With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him,
Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither
To use as you think needful of the man.
LUCIUS.
O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
That robbed Andronicus of his good hand;
This is the pearl that pleased your empress’ eye;
And here’s the base fruit of her burning lust.
Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
Why dost not speak? What, deaf? Not a word?
A halter, soldiers, hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
AARON.
Touch not the boy, he is of royal blood.
LUCIUS.
Too like the sire for ever being good.
First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl,
A sight to vex the father’s soul withal.
Get me a ladder.
[A ladder is brought, which Aaron is made to ascend.]
AARON.
Lucius, save the child;
And bear it from me to the empress.
If thou do this, I’ll show thee wondrous things
That highly may advantage thee to hear.
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
I’ll speak no more but “Vengeance rot you all!”
LUCIUS.
Say on, and if it please me which thou speak’st,
Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished.
AARON.
And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius,
’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
Complots of mischief, treason, villainies,
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed.
And this shall all be buried in my death,
Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.