Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform!
Aar. Away, I say! 60
Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty brabble will undo us all.
Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a prince's right? 64
What! is Lavinia then become so loose,
Or Bassianus so degenerate,
That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd
Without controlment, justice, or revenge? 68
Young lords, beware! an should the empress know
This discord's ground, the music would not please.
Chi. I care not, I, knew she and all the world:
I love Lavinia more than all the world. 72
Dem. Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:
Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.
Aar. Why, are ye mad? or know ye not in Rome
How furious and impatient they be, 76
And cannot brook competitors in love?
I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.
Chi. Aaron, a thousand deaths
Would I propose, to achieve her whom I love. 80
Aar. To achieve her! how?
Dem. Why mak'st thou it so strange?
She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be lov'd. 84
What, man! more water glideth by the mill
Than wots the miller of; and easy it is
62 brabble: squabble, brawl
64 jet: encroach
70 ground; cf. n.
80 propose: risk, undertake
achieve: win
82 She is a woman; cf. n.
85 water glideth by the mill; cf. n.
