15531418See Lucius see, how much she makes of thee:

15541419Some whither would she haue thee goe with her.

15551420A boy, Cornelia neuer with more care,

15561421Red to her sonnes than she hath red to thee,

15571422Sweet Poetrie and Tullies Oratour:

15581423Canst thou not gesse wherefore she plies thee thus.

15591424Puer. My Lord I know not I, nor can I gesse,

15601425Vnlesse some fit or frenzie do possesse her:

15611426For I haue heard my Grandsier say full oft,

15621427Extremitie of greeues would make men mad.

15631428And I haue red that Hecuba of Troy,

15641429Ran mad for sorrow, that made me to feare,

15651430Although my Lord I know my Noble Aunt,

15661431Loues me as deare as ere my Mother did,

15671432And would not but in furie fright my youth,

15681433Which made me downe to throwe my bookes and flie

15691434Causeles perhaps, but pardon me sweet Aunt,

15701435And Maddam if my Vnckle Marcus goe,

15711436I will most willinglie attend your Ladyship.

15721437Mar. Lucius I will.

15731438Titus. How now Lauinia, Marcus what meanes this?

15741439Some booke there is that she desires to see:

15751440Which is it gyrle of these, open them boy,

15761441But thou art deeper read and better skild,

15771442Come and take choise of all my Lybrarie,

15781443And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heauens

15791444Reueale the damn'd contriuer of this deede.

15811445Why lifts she vp her Armes in sequence thus?

15821446M. I thinke she meanes that there were more than one

15831447Confederate in the fact, I more there was:

15841448Or else to heauen, she heaues them for reuenge.

15851449Titus. Lucius what booke is that shee tosseth so.

15861450Puer. Grandsier tis Ouids Metamorphosis,

15871451My Mother gaue it me.

15881452Marcus. For loue of her thats gone,