That ever death should let life bear his name, Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end? Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. And would usurp upon my watry eyes, That I may turn me to each one of you, And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. -Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things; [Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA. Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister ; O, 'would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been! If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs; SCENE II. [Exit. Enter TITUS, A Room in TITUS's House. A Banquet set out. Tit. So, so; now sit and look, you eat no more With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine And when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down. Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs![To LAY. Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; Mar. Fye, brother, fye! teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life. Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote already? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands ;- How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable? If Marcus did not name the word of hands! Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this :— She says, she drinks no other drink but tears, As begging hermits in their holy prayers: Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven, And, by still practice, learn to know thy meaning.4 Tit. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears, And tears will quickly melt thy life away. [MARCUS strikes the dish with a knife. What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife ? Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly. Tit. Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart; Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny: A deed of death, done on the innocent, Becomes not Titus' brother: Get thee gone ; I see, thou art not for my company. Mar. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly. Tit. But how, if that fly had a father and mother? How would he hang his slender gilded wings, And buz lamenting doings in the air? Poor harmless fly! That with his pretty buzzing melody, Came here to make us merry; and thou hast kill'd him. Then pardon me for reprehending thee, For thou hast done a charitable deed. Yet I do think we are not brought so low, [4] By constant or continual practice. JOHNS. But that, between us, we can kill a fly, That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor. Mar. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him, He takes false shadows for true substances. Tit. Come, take away.-Lavinia, go with me : Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young, ACT IV. SCENE I-The same. Before TITUS's House. Enter TITUS and MARCUS. Then enter young LUCIUS, LAVINIA running after him. Boy. HELP, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia Follows me every where, I know not why :Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes !Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean. Mar. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt. Read to her sons, than she hath read to thee, Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus ? 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: Which made me down to throw my books, and fly; I will most willingly a, tend your ladyship. Mar. Lucius, I will. [LAVINIA turns over the books which Lucius has let fall. Tit. How now, Lavinia ?—Marcus, what means this? Some book there is that she desires to see :Which is it, girl, of these?-Open them, boy.But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd; Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus ? Mar. 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. Tit. Lucius, 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 ! What would she find ?—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.1 Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surpriz'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, 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: Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, Mar. Sit down, sweet niece ;-brother, sit down by me. -Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury, Inspire me, that I may this treason find!— STEEV. |