 | Brutus Ultor |  |
Scene I.
—Lucretia's bed-chamber.Lucretia.
I think it is the light, and, if I watch,
My senses will return. I know the sun
Fell in a streak so on the little nook
Where I piled up my needlework: it's there—
I'm in a stupor; for I do not mind.
I used to be so joyous at the sight
Of the small fleecy wraps. It's gone from me;
Tarquin hath ravished all. Oh, I could sink
Inward to Lethe: but I must not sleep,
There must be no more negligence. Some words
I had to write. [Motions to summon Virgilia.]
I will not rouse the child,
She'd stare at me. I must bear well in mind
Where I belong. By chance I learnt the name,
Though I ne'er uttered it for modesty.
I am—
The thing, my body is a brothel-house.
[Taking tablets.]
Here are the ivory slips. What shall I write?
I cannot feel. I will put on my gown,
And try to rouse myself. [Turns from it shuddering.]
Lucretia's . . . I
Am Tarquin's . . . What the wife
Of Collatine hath worn is not for me.
Hang there. . . . I must be liveried
In death. [Puts on black raiment.]
Alack, how cold they lie on me,
These mourning clothes! [Writes silently.]
I can unfold it now.
[Summons, and despatches the messenger.
Six hours! He cannot come to me ere noon.
28
This falchion I will lay beside its sheath,
[Hiding the knife in her bosom.
And on the slaughter of mine enemy
Bend my concentred will. The time will pass.
| Brutus Ultor | |