ACT IV SCENE I | Rome. Titus's garden. | |
[
Enter young LUCIUS, and LAVINIA running after him,
and the boy flies from her, with books under his
arm. Then enter TITUS and MARCUS
] |
Young LUCIUS | 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. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt. | 5 |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm. |
Young LUCIUS | Ay, when my father was in Rome she did. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | What means my niece Lavinia by these signs? |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean: |
| See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee: | 10 |
| Somewhither would she have thee go with her. |
| Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care |
| Read to her sons than she hath read to thee |
| Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus? | 15 |
Young LUCIUS | My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, |
| Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her: |
| For I have heard my grandsire say full oft, |
| Extremity of griefs would make men mad; |
| And I have read that Hecuba of Troy | 20 |
| Ran mad through sorrow: that made me to fear; |
| Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt |
| 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-- | 25 |
| Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt: |
| And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go, |
| I will most willingly attend your ladyship. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | Lucius, I will. |
[
LAVINIA turns over with her stumps the books which
LUCIUS has let fall
] |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this? | 30 |
| 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 | 35 |
| Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed. |
| Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus? |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | 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. | 40 |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so? |
Young LUCIUS | Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses; |
| My mother gave it me. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | For love of her that's gone, |
| Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest. | 45 |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves! |
[Helping 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. | 50 |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves. |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, |
| Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was, |
| Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods? See, see! |
| Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt-- | 55 |
| O, had we never, never hunted there!-- |
| Pattern'd by that the poet here describes, |
| By nature made for murders and for rapes. |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | O, why should nature build so foul a den, |
| Unless the gods delight in tragedies? | 60 |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | 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? | 65 |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | 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 | 70 |
| 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 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 discover'd for revenge; | 75 |
| 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
] |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ? |
| 'Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.' |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora | 80 |
| Performers of this heinous, bloody deed? |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Magni Dominator poli, |
| Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides? |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know |
| There is enough written upon this earth | 85 |
| 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 fere | 90 |
| And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame, |
| 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. | 95 |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | 'Tis sure enough, an you knew how. |
| But if you hunt 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, | 100 |
| And when he sleeps will she do what she list. |
| You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone; |
| And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass, |
| And with a gad of steel will write these words, |
| And lay it by: the angry northern wind | 105 |
| Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad, |
| And where's your lesson, then? Boy, what say you? |
Young LUCIUS | 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. | 110 |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft |
| For his ungrateful country done the like. |
Young LUCIUS | And, uncle, so will I, an if I live. |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | Come, go with me into mine armoury; |
| Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy, | 115 |
| Shalt 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? |
Young LUCIUS | Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire. |
TITUS ANDRONICUS | No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course. | 120 |
| 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 Young LUCIUS] |
MARCUS ANDRONICUS | O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, |
| And not relent, or not compassion him? | 125 |
| Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy, |
| That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart |
| Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield; |
| But yet so just that he will not revenge. |
| Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus! | 130 |
[Exit] |