Page 2168 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 2168
BOY
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 for 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.
MARCUS
Lucius, I will.
T IT US
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 skilled;
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
MARCUS
I think she means that there were more than one
Confederate in the fact: ay, more there was;
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge. [40]
T IT US
Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
BOY
Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s Metamorphoses;
My mother gave it me.
