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Now climbeth Tamora Olympus’ top,
Safe out of Fortune’s shot, and sits aloft[.]
. . .
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach
And overlooks the highest-peering hills,
So Tamora.
. . .
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long
Hast prisoner held, fettered in amorous chains
And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. (2.1.1–17)
Act 2 opens with this monologue, which is the first time in the play when Aaron the Moor speaks. On the one hand, the sunny love poetry he utters here is in step with Saturninus’s declaration of “a love-day” (1.1.501) in the final moments of act 1. Yet it’s also something of a shock given all the violence that has already taken place. But this shock dissipates as we take a closer look at Aaron’s language and see that his paean to Tamora is no typical romantic verse. It’s also a testament to his own ambition. He has hitched himself to Tamora’s star and now intends to “mount her pitch.” The repetition of this verb—mount—further alerts us to the way Aaron’s ambition for upward mobility is bound up with sexuality. Thus, Aaron’s opening speech is a declaration of his perversity disguised as a love poem.
He that had wit would think that I had none,
To bury so much gold under a tree
And never after to inherit it.
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
Know that this gold must coin a stratagem
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent piece of villainy. (2.3.1–7)
Aaron addresses these words to the audience as he prepares a trap that will result in “a very excellent piece of villainy.” This speech offers an early indication of the pure delight Aaron takes in harming others. Most important of all, though, is his role as a plotter. Much like a playwright, Aaron sets the stage carefully to ensure that a certain sequence of dramatic events will unfold. He values the pleasure of this power higher than the bag of gold he buries as a key element of the current plot, which will play out over the duration of the present scene.
But I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more. (5.1.143–46)
Aaron speaks these words to Lucius after having been captured by Goth soldiers. These lines come at the end of a long speech in which Aaron recites a catalog of crimes he’s committed, confirming our sense that he’s an irredeemable figure of unadulterated evil. In the previous act, Aaron’s actions briefly gave the audience cause to believe that he could be redeemed. When Tamora orders him to execute their dark-skinned love child, his paternal instincts kick in and he flees the scene, hoping to find refuge for his son among the Goths. Even once he’s captured, he seems to prioritize his son’s life above everything. But after Lucius promises to spare the infant, Aaron confesses his commitment to villainy. Indeed, he will reprise the sentiment expressed here when he gets one last chance to speak in the final scene: “Ten thousand worse [evils] than ever yet I did / Would I perform, if I might have my will” (5.3.186–87).
