Enter young Lucius and Lauinia running after him, and the Boy flies from her with his bookes vnder his arme. Enter Titus and Marcus.
Boy. Helpe Gransier helpe, my Aunt Lauinia, Followes me euery where I know not why. Good Vncle Marcus see how swift she comes, Alas sweet Aunt, I know not what you meane
Mar. Stand by me Lucius, doe not feare thy Aunt
Titus. She loues thee boy too well to doe thee harme Boy. I when my father was in Rome she did
Mar. What meanes my Neece Lauinia by these signes? Ti. Feare not Lucius, somewhat doth she meane: See Lucius see, how much she makes of thee: Some whether would she haue thee goe with her. Ah boy, Cornelia neuer with more care Read to her sonnes, then she hath read to thee, Sweet Poetry, and Tullies Oratour: Canst thou not gesse wherefore she plies thee thus? Boy. My Lord I know not I, nor can I gesse, Vnlesse some fit or frenzie do possesse her: For I haue heard my Gransier say full oft, Extremitie of griefes would make men mad. And I haue read that Hecuba of Troy, Ran mad through sorrow, that made me to feare, Although my Lord, I know my noble Aunt, Loues me as deare as ere my mother did, And would not but in fury fright my youth, Which made me downe to throw my bookes, and flie Causles perhaps, but pardon me sweet Aunt, And Madam, if my Vncle Marcus goe, I will most willingly attend your Ladyship
Mar. Lucius I will
Ti. How now Lauinia, Marcus what meanes this? Some booke there is that she desires to see, Which is it girle of these? Open them boy, But thou art deeper read and better skild, Come and take choyse of all my Library, And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heauens Reueale the damn'd contriuer of this deed. What booke? Why lifts she vp her armes in sequence thus? Mar. I thinke she meanes that ther was more then one Confederate in the fact, I more there was: Or else to heauen she heaues them to reuenge
Ti. Lucius what booke is that she tosseth so? Boy. Grandsier 'tis Ouids Metamorphosis, My mother gaue it me
Mar. For loue of her that's gone, Perhaps she culd it from among the rest
Ti. Soft, so busily she turnes the leaues, Helpe her, what would she finde? Lauinia shall I read? This is the tragicke tale of Philomel? And treates of Tereus treason and his rape, And rape I feare was roote of thine annoy
Mar. See brother see, note how she quotes the leaues Ti. Lauinia, wert thou thus surpriz'd sweet girle, Rauisht and wrong'd as Philomela was? Forc'd in the ruthlesse, vast, and gloomy woods? See, see, I such a place there is where we did hunt, (O had we neuer, neuer hunted there) Patern'd by that the Poet heere describes, By nature made for murthers and for rapes
Mar. O why should nature build so foule a den, Vnlesse the Gods delight in tragedies? Ti. Giue signes sweet girle, for heere are none but friends What Romaine Lord it was durst do the deed? Or slunke not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst, That left the Campe to sinne in Lucrece bed
Mar. Sit downe sweet Neece, brother sit downe by me, Appollo, Pallas, Ioue, or Mercury, Inspire me that I may this treason finde. My Lord looke heere, looke heere Lauinia.
He writes his Name with his staffe, and guides it with feete and mouth.
This sandie plot is plaine, guide if thou canst This after me, I haue writ my name, Without the helpe of any hand at all. Curst be that hart that forc'st vs to that shift: Write thou good Neece, and heere display at last, What God will haue discouered for reuenge, Heauen guide thy pen to print thy sorrowes plaine, That we may know the Traytors and the truth.