Marc.(59) Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus? Boy. My lord, I know not, I, nor can Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her: For I have heard my grandsire say full oft, Extremity of griefs would make men mad; And I have read that Hecuba of Troy I guess, Ran mad through sorrow: that made me to fear; Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did, And would not, but in fury, fright my youth: I will most willingly attend your ladyship. [Lavinia turns over with her stumps the books which Lucius has let fall. Tit. How now, Lavinia !-Marcus, what means this? Which is it, girl, of these ?-Open them, boy.- Marc. I think she means that there was more than one Confederate in the fact;-ay, more there was; Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. Marc. For love of her that's gone, Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest. Tit. Soft! so (61) busily she turns the leaves! What would she find?-Lavinia, shall I read ? And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape; And Marc. See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves. Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl, Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was, Forc'd in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods ?— Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt Marc. O, why should nature build so foul a den, Unless the gods delight in tragedies? Tit. Give signs, sweet girl, -for here are none but friends, What Roman lord it was durst do the deed: Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed? Marc. Sit down, sweet niece :-brother, sit down by me.Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury, Inspire me, that I may this treason find!- Without the help of any hand at all. [He writes his name [She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it Tit. O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ ?"Stuprum-Chiron-Demetrius." Marc. What, what!—the lustful sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? Tit. Magni Dominator poli, Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? Marc. O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know There is enough written upon this earth To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts, And arm the minds of infants to exclaims. My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel; Tit. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how. And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, And lay it by the angry northern wind Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad, Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe Marc. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft For his ungrateful country done the like. Boy. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live. Tit. Come, go with me into mine armory; Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy, Shalt (6) carry from me to the empress' sons Presents that I intend to send them both: Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not? Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire. Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and Boy. Marc. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart [Exit. SCENE II. The same. A room in the palace. Enter, from one side, AARON, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON; from the other side, young Lucius, and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them. Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. I greet your honours from Andronicus,- [Aside. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what's the news? Boy. That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, For villains mark'd with rape [aside].-May it please you, My grandsire, well advis'd, hath sent by me The goodliest weapons of his armory To gratify your honourable youth, The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say; And so I do, and with his gifts present Your lordships, that, (6) whenever you have need, You may be armèd and appointed well: And so I leave you both,-like bloody villains [aside]. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round about? Let's see : [Reads] "Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu." Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well : I read it in the grammar long ago. Aar. Ay, just, a verse in Horace ;-right, you have it.— Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! [Aside. Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt; And sends them weapons wrapp'd about with lines, That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick. But were our witty empress well a-foot, Aar. Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius? Dem. I would we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust. Chi. A charitable wish and full of love. Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen. Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over. Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus? Dem. Soft! who comes here? Enter a Nurse, with a blackamoor Child in her arms. O, tell me, did you see 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 dost thou keep! What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms? Nur. O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye, |