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MAR. O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,5 That blab'd them with fuch pleafing eloquence, Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage; Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it fung Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

Luc. O, fay thou for her, who hath done this deed?

MAR. O, thus I found her, ftraying in the park, Seeking to hide herfelf; as doth the deer,

That hath receiv'd fome unrecuring wound.

TIT. It was my deer; and he, that wounded


Hath hurt me more, than had he kill'd me dead : For now I ftand as one upon a rock,

Environ'd with a wilderness of fea;

Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when fome envious furge
Will in his brinith bowels fwallow him.
This way to death my wretched fons are gone;
Here ftands my other fon, a banish'd man;
And here my brother, weeping at my woes;
But that, which gives my foul the greatest spurn,
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than foul.-
Had I but feen thy picture in this plight,

It would have madded me; What fhall I do
Now I behold thy lively body fo?

Thou haft no hands, to wipe away thy tears;
Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee:

O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,] This piece furnishes scarce any refemblances to Shakspeare's works; this one expreffion, however, is found in his Venus and Adonis : "Once more the engine of her thoughts began."


6 It was my deer;] The play upon deer and dear has been used by Waller, who calls a lady's girdle

"The pale that held my lovely deer." JOHNSON.

Thy husband he is dead; and, for his death,
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this:-
Look, Marcus! ah, fon Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew
Upon a gather'd lily almoft wither'd.

MAR. Perchance, fhe weeps because they kill'd her husband:

Perchance, because she knows them innocent.

TIT. If they did kill thy husband, then be joy


Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.-
No, no, they would not do fo foul a deed;
Witnefs the forrow that their fifter makes.-
Gentle Lavinia, let me kifs thy lips;

Or make fome fign how I may do thee ease:
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, fit round about fome fountain;
Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks
How they are ftain'd; like meadows, yet not dry
With miry flime left on them by a flood?
And in the fountain fhall we gaze fo long,
Till the fresh tafte be taken from that clearness,
And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
Or fhall we cut away our hands, like thine?
Or fhall we bite our tongues, and in dumb fhows
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?

What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot fome device of further mifery,

To make us wonder'd at in time to come.

Luc. Sweet father, ceafe your tears; for, at your grief,

7-like meadows,] Old copies-in meadows. Corrected by Mr. Rowe. MALONE.

See, how my wretched fifter fobs and weeps.

MAR. Patience, dear niece :-good Titus, dry thine eyes.

TIT. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot, Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,

For thou, poor man, haft drown'd it with thine own. Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.

TIT. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her figns:


Had the a tongue to speak, now would the fay
That to her brother which I said to thee;
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
Can do no fervice on her forrowful cheeks,
O, what a fympathy of woe is this?
As far from help as limbo is from blifs !9

Enter AARON.

AAR. Titus Andronicus, my

lord the emperor

Sends thee this word,-That, if thou love thy fons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyfelf old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
And fend it to the king: he for the fame,'
Will fend thee hither both thy fons alive;
And that fhall be the ranfome for their fault.
TIT. O, gracious emperor! O, gentle Aaron !
Did ever raven fing so like a lark,

8 with his true tears-] Edition 1600 reads with her true tears. TODD.

9 — as limbo is from blifs.] The Limbus patrum, as it was called, is a place that the fchoolmen fuppofed to be in the neighbourhood of hell, where the fouls of the patriarchs were detained, and thofe good men who died before our Saviour's refurrection. Milton gives the name of Limbo to his Paradise of Fools. REED.

That gives sweet tidings of the funs uprife?
With all my heart, I'll fend the emperor
My hand;

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down fo many enemies, Shall not be fent: my hand will ferve the turn: My youth can better spare my blood than you; And therefore mine fhall fave my brothers' lives. MAR. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,

Writing deftruction on the enemy's castle?1


Writing deftruction on the enemy's caftle?] Thus all the editions. But Mr. Theobald, after ridiculing the fagaeity of the former editors at the expence of a great deal of aukward mirth, corrects it to cafque; and this, he fays, he'll ftand by: And the Oxford editor taking his fecurity, will ftand by it too. But what a flippery ground is critical confidence! Nothing could bid fairer for a right conjecture; yet 'tis all imaginary. A clofe helmet, which covered the whole head, was called a caftle, and, I fuppofe, for that very reafon. Don Quixote's barber, at least as good a critick as these editors, fays (in Shelton's tranflation 1612): "I know what is a helmet, and what a morrion, and what a close castle, and other things touching warfare." Lib. IV. cap. xviii. And the original, celada de encaxe, has fomething of the fame fignification. Shakspeare ufes the word again in Troilus and Creffida:

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and, Diomede,

"Stand faft, and wear a castle on thy head."


WARBURTON. "Dr. Warburton's proof (fays Mr. Heath,) refts wholly on two miftakes, one of a printer, the other of his own. Shelton's Don Quixote the word clofe caftle is an error of the prefs for a clofe cafque, which is the exact interpretation of the Spanish original, celada de encare; this Dr. Warburton must have feen, if he had understood Spanish as well as he pretends to do. For the primitive caxa, from whence the word encare, is derived, fignifies a box, or coffer; but never a castle. His other proof is taken from this paffage in Troilus and Creffida:

O, none of both but are of high defert :
My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
To ranfome my two nephews from their death;
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

AAR. Nay, come agree, whofe hand fhall go along,

For fear they die before their pardon come.

MAR. My hand shall



By heaven, it shall not go. TIT. Sirs, ftrive no more; fuch wither'd herbs

as thefe

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I fhall be thought thy fon,

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"Stand fast, and wear a cafile on thy head."

Wherein Troilus doth not advise Diomede to wear a helmet on his head, for that would be poor indeed, as he always wore one in battle; but to guard his head with the most impenetrable armour, to fhut it up even in a castle, if it were poffible, or else his fword fhould reach it."

After all this reasoning, however, it appears, that a caftle did actually fignify a clefe helmet. See Grofe's Treatife of Ancient Armour, p. 12, from whence it appears that castle may only be a corruption of the old French word-cafquetel. Thus alfo, in Holinfhed, Vol. II. p. 815: "Then fuddenlie with great noise of trumpets entered fir Thomas Knevet in a caftell of cole blacke, and over the caftell was written, The dolorous caftell; and fo he and the earle of Essex, &c. ran their courses with the kyng," &c.

A remark, however, of my late friend Mr. Tyrwhitt, has taught me to suspect the validity of my quotation from Holinfhed; for one of the knights in the tournament defcribed, made his entry in a fountain, and another in a horfe-litter. Sir Thomas Knevet therefore might have appeared in a building formed in imitation of a cafile. STEEVENS.

The inftance quoted does not appear to me to prove what it was adduced for; wooden caftles having been fometimes introduced in ancient tournaments. The paffage in the text is itself much more decifive. MALONE.

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