Although, my lord, I know, my noble aunt I will most willingly attend your ladyship. Mar. Lucius, I will. Tit. [LAVINIA turns over the books which LUCIUS had let fall. How now, Lavinia ! Some book there is that she desires to see. — Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy. - Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus? Mar. I think, she means, that there was more than one Tit. Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so? Mar. For love of her that 's gone, Help her what would she find? This is the tragic tale of Philomel, Lavinia, shall I read? And treats of Tereus' treason, and his rape; And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy. Mar. See, brother, see! note, how she quotes the leaves. 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, Mar. O! why should nature build so foul a den, Tit. Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends, What Roman lord it was durst do the deed: brother, sit down by me. — Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst, This after me. [He writes his Name with his Staff, and guides it with Feet and Mouth. I have writ my name Without the help of any hand at all. Curs'd be that heart, that forc'd us to this shift! Heaven guide thy pen to print thy 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 sons of Tamora Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? Tit. Magni dominator poli, Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? Mar. O calm thee, gentle lord, although, I know, My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel, And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope, Tit. 'T is sure enough, an you knew how; Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad, Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe Mar. Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft For his ungrateful country done the like. Boy. And, uncle, so will I, and if I live. Come, come; thou 'lt do thy message, wilt thou not? Ay, marry, will we, Sir; and we 'll be waited on. [Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Boy. Mar. O heavens! can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion him? That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, SCENE II. The Same. A Room in the Palace. [Exit. Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, at one Door; at another Door, young Lucius, and an Attendant, with a Bundle of Weapons, and Verses writ upon them. Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; He hath some message to deliver us. Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather. I greet your honours from Andronicus; [Aside.] And pray the Roman gods, confound you both. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What's the news? Boy. [Aside.] That you are both decipher'd, that's the news, For villains mark'd with rape. [To them.] May it please you, The goodliest weapons of his armoury, 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 whenever you have need, You may he armed and appointed well. And so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody villains. [Exeunt Boy and Attendant. Dem. What's here? A scroll, and written round about? Let's see; Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu. Chi. O! 't is a verse in Horace. I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago. Aar. Ay, just! [Aside.] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt, That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick; She would applaud Andronicus' conceit: But let her rest in her unrest awhile. [To them.] And now, young lords, was 't not a happy star It did me good, before the palace gate Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius? Did you not use his daughter very friendly? 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. Enter a Nurse, with a Black-a-moor Child in her Arms. Nur. Good morrow, lords. 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! |