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 skilled; Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow, till the Heavens Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.— Why lifts she up her arms in sequence1 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 culled it from among the rest.

Tit. Soft! see, how busily she turns the leaves!

Help her ;

What would she find?-Lavinia, shall I read?

This is the tragic tale of Philomel,

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 2 the leaves.

Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, Ravished and wronged, as Philomela was,

Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?—
See, see!-

Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt,
(O, had we never, never hunted there!)
Patterned by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders, and for rapes.
Mar. O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies!

1 Succession.

2 To quote is to observe.

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,
That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?

Mar. Sit down, sweet niece;-brother, sit down by me.

Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,

Inspire me, that I may this treason find!—
My lord, look here:-Look here, Lavinia.
This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This after me, when I have writ my name
Without the help of any hand at all.

[He writes his name with his staff, and guides
it with his feet and mouth.

Cursed be that heart, that forced us to this shift !— Write thou, good niece; and here display, at last, What God will have discovered for revenge! 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. Magne Dominator poli,1

Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?

Mar. O, calm thee, gentle lord! although, I know, There is enough written upon this earth,

To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,

And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.

My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
And swear with me, as with the woful feere,2
And father of that chaste, dishonored dame,

1 Magne Regnator Deum, &c. is the exclamation of Hippolytus when Phædra discovers the secret of her incestuous passion, in Seneca's Tragedy.

2 Feere signifies a companion; and here, metaphorically, a husband.

Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,-
That we will prosecute, by good advice,
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
Tit. 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
But if you hurt these bear-whelps, then beware.
The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And, when he sleeps, will she do what she list.
You're a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad1 of steel will write these words,
And lay it by; the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,
And where's your lesson then ?-Boy, what say you?
Boy. I 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 armory.
Lucius, I'll fit thee; and, withal, my boy
Shall carry from me to the empress' sons
Presents, that I intend to send them both.

Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not?
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;
Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court:

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?

Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy;

That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart,

1 A gad, in Anglo-Saxon, signified the point of a spear. It is here used for a similar pointed instrument.

Than foemen's marks upon his battered shield;
But yet so just, that he will not revenge.-
Revenge the Heavens for old Andronicus!

[Exit.

SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter AARON, CHIRON, and DEMETRIUS, 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 to us.

Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

Boy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honors from Andronicus ;

And pray the Roman gods confound you both. [Aside. Dem. Gramercy,' lovely Lucius; what's the news? Boy. That you are both deciphered, that's the news, For villains marked with rape. [Aside.] May it please

you,

My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armory,

To gratify your honorable 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 be 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, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well. I read it in the grammar long ago.

1 i. e. grand merci; great thanks.

Aar. Ay, just!-a verse in Horace ;-right, you

have it.

Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! Here's no sound jest!1 the old man hath found their guilt;

And sends the weapons wrapped about

with lines,

That wound, beyond their feeling, to the

quick.

Aside.

But were our witty empress well afoot,
She would applaud Andronicus' conceit.
But let her rest in her unrest awhile.-
And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace-gate,
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

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. 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.

Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us o'er. [Aside. Flourish. Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus? Chi. Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son. Dem. Soft; who comes here?

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?

1 This mode of expression was common formerly. So in King Henry

IV. Part I.:-"Here's no fine villany!"