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.]
DEMETRIUS.
How many women saw this child of his?
AARON.
Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league,
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
But say again, how many saw the child?
NURSE.
Cornelia the midwife and myself,
And no one else but the delivered empress.