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Sat. If it be prov'd? you fee, it is apparent.
Who found this letter, Tamora, was it you?
Tam. Andronicus himself did take it up.

Tit. I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail.
For by my father's reverend tomb, I vow,
They shall be ready at your Highness' will,
To answer their fufpicion with their lives.

Sat. Thou shalt not bail them: fee thou follow me: Some bring the murder'd body, fome the murderers. Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain; For by my foul, were there worfe end than death, That end upon them fhould be executed.

Tam. Andronicus, I will intreat the King; Fear not thy fons, they fhall do well enough. Tit. Come, Lucius, come, ftay not to talk with them. [Exeunt feverally.

Enter Demetrius and Chiron, with Lavinia, ravish'd; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

Dem. So, now go tell (an if thy tongue can speak) Who 'twas that cut thy tongue, and ravish'd thee. Chi. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning fo; And (if thy ftumps will let thee) play the fcribe.

Dem. See, how with figns and tokens fhe can fcrowle. Chi. Go home, call for fweet water, wafh thy hands. Dem. She has no tongue call, nor hands to wash; And fo let's leave her to her filent walks.

Chi. If 'twere my cafe, I fhould go hang myself. Dem. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. [Exeunt Dem. and Chiron.

Enter Marcus to Lavinia.

Mar. Who's this, my niece, that flies away fo faft ? Coufin, a word; where is your husband?

If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
If I do wake, fome planet ftrike me down,
That I may lumber in eternal fleep!

Speak, gentle niece, what ftern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare

Of

Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, (14)
Whofe circling fhadows Kings have fought to fleep in?
And might not gain fo great a happiness,

As have thy love! why doft not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,

Like to a bubling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rife and fall between thy rofy lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But, fure, fome Tereus hath defloured thee;
And, left thou fhou'dft detect him, cut thy tongue,
Ah, now thou turn'ft away thy face for fhame!
And, notwithstanding all this lofs of blood,
(As from a conduit with their iffuing spouts,)
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blufhing to be encountred with a cloud.-
Shall I speak for thee? fhall I fay, 'tis fo?
O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beaf
That might rail at him to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven ftopt,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, fhe but loft her tongue,
And in a tedious fampler few'd her mind.
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus haft thou met withal,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better few'd than Philomel.
Oh, had the monster seen those lilly hands
Tremble, like afpen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the filken ftrings delight to kifs them;
(14)
thofe fweet ornaments,
Whofe circling fhadows Kings have fought to fleep in,
And might not gain fo great an happiness,

As half thy love!] As half her love? But might they gain any part of her love? or would fhe not confent to embrace 'em fo much as with one arm? The poet had no fuch ftuff in his thoughts. My correction restores the true meaning; that tho' Princes languish'd to fleep in her arms, they could not obtain their fuit, or have her love. The very fame corruption has obtain'd in our author's tale of Cephalus and Procris:

And looks, as do the trees by winter nipt,
Whom froft and cold of fruit and leaves balf ftript..

For grammar fhews, that we must likewife read here--have fript

He

He would not then have touch'd them for his life.
Or had he heard the heav'nly harmony,

Which that sweet tongue hath made;

He would have dropt his knife, and fell asleep,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
For fuch a fight will blind a father's eye.
One hour's ftorm will drown the fragrant meads,
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee:
Oh, could our mourning ease thy mifery!

ACT

III.

SCENE, a Street in Rome.

[Exeunt

Enter the Judges and Senators, with Marcus and Quintus bound, paffing on the ftage to the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading.

H

TITUS.

Ear me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, ftay,
For pity of mine age, whofe youth was spent
In dangerous wars, whilft you fecurely flept:
For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed,
For all the frofty nights that I have watcht,
And for thefe bitter tears, which you now fee
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks,
Be pitiful to my condemned fons,

Whofe fouls are not corrupted, as 'tis thought.
For two and twenty fons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed.

[Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pafs by him. For thefe, thefe, tribunes, in the dust I write

My heart's deep languor, and my foul's fad tears: my tears ftanch the earth's dry appetite,

Let

My fons fweet blood will make it fhame and blush:
O earth! I will befriend thee more with rain,

[Exe. That

That fhall diftil from thefe two antient ruins,
Than youthful April fhall with all his fhowers; (15)
In fummer's drought I'll drop upon thee ftill;
In winter, with warm tears I'll melt the fnow;
And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
So thou refufe to drink my dear fons blood.

Enter Lucius with his word drawn.

Oh, reverend tribunes! gentle aged men!
Unbind my fons, reverse the doom of death:
And let me fay, (that never wept before)
My tears are now prevailing orators.

Luc. Oh, noble father, you lament in vain;
The tribunes hear you not, no man is by;
And you recount your forrows to a stone.

Tit. Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead;Grave tribunes, once more I intreat of you

Luc. My gracious Lord, no tribune hears you speak. Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man; if they did hear, They would not mark me; or if they did mark, They would not pity me.

Therefore I tell my forrows to the ftones,
Who, tho' they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in fome fort they're better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale;
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears, and feem to weep with me:
And were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to thefe.

A ftone is foft as wax, tribunes more hard than ftones:
A ftone is filent, and offendeth not,

And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. But wherefore ftand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?

(15) Than youthful April fhall with all her show'rs;] This is the reading of our poetical editors only; the older copies have it rightly ---with all his fhow'rs. If they had not remember'd Ovid in his Fafti, lib. IV. ver. 89.

(Aprilem memorant ab aperto tempore dictum:

Quem Venus injecta vindicat alma manu.)

They might, at leaft, have remembred the firft rule in their Propria qua maribus, that all months and winds are mafculines.

Luc.

Luc. To refcue my two brothers from their death;
For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd
My everlasting doom of banishment.

Tit. O happy man, they have befriended thee:
Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive,
That Rome is but a wilderness of Tygers;
Tygers muft prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine; how happy art thou then,
From these devourers to be banished?

But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
Enter Marcus, and Lavinia.

Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep,
Or if not fo, thy noble heart to break :
I bring confuming forrow to thine age.

Tit. Will it confume me? let me fee it then.
Mar. This was thy daughter.

Tit. Why, Marcus, fo fhe is.

Luc. Ah me! this object kills me.

Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her

Speak, my Lavinia, what accurfed hand

:

Hath made thee handlefs, in thy father's fpight? (16)
What fool hath added water to the fea?
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height before thou cam'ft,
And now, like Nilus, it difdaineth bounds:
Give me a fword, I'll chop off my hands too,
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain :
And they have nurs'd this woe, in feeding life:
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
And they have ferv'd me to effectlefs ufe.
Now all the fervice I require of them,

(16)

what accurfed hand

Hath made thee handlefs in thy father's fight?] But tho' Lavinia apfear'd handless in her, father's prefence, fhe was not made fo in his fight. And if that be the true reading, it can at best bear but this poor meaning, what curs'd hand hath robb'd thee of thy hands, for thy father to fee thee in that condition? the flight alteration, I have given, adds a much more reasonable complaint, and aggravates the fentiment. What curfed hand hath robb'd thee of thy hands, only in defpight to thy father, only to encrease his torments?

Is

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