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Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor,
Tit. Come, take away.–Lavinia, go with me: I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee Sad stories, chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young, And thou shalt.read, when mine begins to dazzle.
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
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
signs ? Tit. Fear her not, Lucius. Somewhat doth she
See, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee:
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 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; Causeless, perhaps : but pardon me, sweet aunt; And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go, I will most willingly attend your ladyship. Mar. Lucius, I will.
[Iavinia turns over the books
which Lucius has let fall.
Cicero's Treatise on Eloquence, entitled Orator.
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
Boy. Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;
For love of her that's gone,
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 1
the leaves. Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl, Ravish'd, and wrong'd, as Philomela was,