I can interpret all her martyr'd figns; In thy dumb action will I be as perfect As begging hermits in their holy prayers. Thou shalt not figh, nor hold thy ftumps to heav'n, And by fill practice learn to know thy meaning. Tit. Peace, tender fapling; thou art made of tears, [Marcus ftrikes the difh with a knife. What doft thou ftrike at, Marcus, with thy knife? Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my Lord, a fly. Tit. Out on thee, murderer; thou kill'ft 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 fee 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 flender gilded wings, And buz laments and dolings in the air ? Poor harmlefs fly, That with his pretty buzzing melody, Came here to make us merry, And thou haft kill'd him. Mar. Pardon me, it was a black-ill-favour'd fly, Then pardon me for reprehending thee, There's There's for thy felf, and that's for Tamora: That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor. me, 43 Mar. Alas, poor man, grief has fo wrought on him, He takes falfe fhadows for true fubftances. Come, take away; Lavinia; go with I'll to thy closet, and go read with thee Sad ftories, chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me, thy fight is young, And thou shalt read when mine begins to dazzle." [Exeunt ACT IV. SCENE I Titus's Houfe. Enter young Lucius and Lavinia running after bim, and the Boy flies from her, with his books under bis arm. Enter Titus, and Marcus. Elp, grandfire, help! my aunt Lavinia Boy. HE Follows me every where, I know not why. Good uncle Marcus, fee how fwift she comes : Alas, fweet aunt, I know not what you mean. Mar. Stand by me, Lucius, do not fear thy aunt, Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm. Boy. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did. Mar. What means my niece Lavinia by these figns ? Tit. Fear thou not, Lucius, fomewhat doth the mean; See, Lucius, fee how much the makes of thee; Some whither would fhe have thee go with her. Ah boy, Cornelia never with more care Read to her fons, than fhe hath read to thee Sweet poetry, and Tully's oratory: Can't thou not guess wherefore the plies thee thus ? Ran mad through forrow; that made me to fear Which made me down to throw my books, and flie, I will most willingly attend your Ladyship. Tit. How now, Lavinia ? Marcus, what means this? Some book there is that the defires to fee. Which is it, girl, of these? open them, boy. Why lifts the up her arms in fequence thus ? Mar. I think fhe means that there was more than one Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was: Or elfe to heav'n fhe heaves them, for revenge. Tit. Lucius, what book is that the toffes fo? Boy. Grandfire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphofes ; My mother gave it me. Mar. For love of her that's gone, Perhaps the cull'd it from among the reft. Tit. Soft fee how busily the turns the leaves ! Help her what would fhe find? Lavinia, fhall I read ? This is the tragick tale of Philomel, And treats of Tereus' treafon and his rape ; And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy. Mar. See, brother, fee, note how the quotes the leaves, Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus furpriz'd, sweet girl, Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was, Forc'd in the ruthless, vaft, and gloomy woods? See, fee; Ay, fuch a place there is, where we did hunt, (O had we never hunted there!) Pattern'd by that the poet here defcribes, By nature made for murders and for rapes. Mar. O why fhould nature build fo foul a den, Unless the Gods delight in tragedies ! Tit. Give figns, fweet girl, for here are none but friends, What Roman Lord it was durft do the deed ; Or flunk not Saturnine as Tarquin erft, That left the camp to fin in Lucrece' bed? Mar. Sit down, fweet niece; brother, fit down by me. Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury, Infpire me, that I may this treafon find. My Lord, look here; look here, Lavinia. [He writes his name with his staff, and guides it with his feet and mouth. This fandy plot is plain; guide, if thou can't, Curft be that heart that forc'd us to this fhift! [She takes the ftaff in her mouth, and guides it with her fumps, and writes. Tit. Oh do you read, my Lord, what she hath writ? Stuprum, Chiron, Demetrius. Mar. What, what! - the luftful fons of Tamora, Tam lentus audis fcelera! tam lentus vides! Mar. Oh calm thee, gentle Lord; although I know To ftir a mutiny in the mildeft thoughts, E And And lulls him whilft fhe playeth on her back, Boy. And, uncle, fo will I, an if I live. Come, come, thou'lt do my meffage, wilt thou not? Ay, marry will we, Sir, and we'll be waited on: [Exeunt. Marcus, attend him in his ecftafie, That hath more scars of forrow in his heart Than foe-mens marks upon his batter'd shield, SCENE II. The Palace. [Exit. Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius at one door: and at another door young Lucius and another, with a bundle of weapons and verfes writ upon them. Chi. Demetrius, here's the fon of Lucius, He hath fome meffage to deliver us. Aar. Ay, fome mad meffage from his mad grandfather. Boy. My Lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus, And |