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Which made me down to throw my books, and fly;
[Lavinia turns over the bookt which Lucins
Tit, How now, Lavinia?— Marcus, what means
Some book there is that she desires to see :—
Mar. I think, she means, that there was more
Confederate in the fact:—Ay, more there was:— Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
Tit. Lucins, what book is that she tosseth so
Boy. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphosis; My mother gave't me.
Mar. For love of her that's gone,
Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest. .
Tit. Soft! see, how busily she turns the leaves! Help her:—
What would she find ?—Lavinia, shall I read i This is the tragick tale of Philomel, . And treats of Tereus' treason, and his rape; And rape, 1 fear, was root of tliioe annoy. Mar. See, brother, see; note, how she qno test the leaves.
Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpris'd, sweet girl, Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was, Forc'd in the ruthlessJ, vast, and gloomy woods?— See, see!
• Succession. t To quote is to observe,
Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt,
Mar. O, why should n-.ture 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:
Mar. Sit down, sweet niece ;—brother, sit down
[He writes his name, with his staff, and guides it with his feet and mouth, Curs'd be that heart, that fore'd us to this shift!— Write thon, good niece; and here display, at last. What God will have discoverd for revenge: Heaven guide thy pen to print ihy sorrows plain, That we may know the traitors, and the truth!
[She takes the staff'in her mouth, and guides it with her stumps, and writes.
Tit. O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ: Stuprum— Chiron—Demetrius.
Mar. What, what!—the lustful sousofTamora Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
Tit. Magne nominator po1i,
Mar. O, calm thee. gentle lord! althongh, 1 know,
VOL. VII. S
Aud swear with me,—as with the woful feere*,
Tit. 'Tis sure enongh, an you knew how.
Boy. 1 say, my lord, that if I were a man. Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe For these bad-bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
Mar. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft For this ungrateful country done the like.
Boy. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury; Lucins, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy Shall carry from me to the empress' sons Presents. that I intend to scnd them both: Come, come; thon'lt do thy message, wilt thou not f
Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.
Lavinia, come:—Marcus, look to my house;
Lucins and I'll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir: and we'll be waited on.
[Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and Roy. Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
• Husband. t The point of a spear.
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrins, at one doors at another door, Young Lucins, and an Attend' ant, vith a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.
Chi. Demetrins, here's the son of Lucins; He hath some message to deliver us. Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grand. father.
Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus;— And pray the Roman gods, confound you both.
Dem. Gramercy*, lovely Lucins: 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 yon,
My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me
• i. c. Grand merci; great thanks.
Your lordships, that whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Bem. What's here? A scroll; and written round about?
Integer vita, scelerisque purus,
Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:
Aar. Ay, just!—a verse in Horace:—right, you have it.
Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
found their guilt;
with lines, That wound, beyond their feeling, to the
But were our witty empress well a-foot,
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.
Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrins? Did you not use his danghter very friendly?
Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames At such a bay, by turn to serve Out lust.
Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love.
Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand more.
Dem. Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods For our beloved mother in her pains.