Titus's garden.
4.1.1
The garden of Titus Adrian was his temple of peace from the war battered ground. Titus cometh there when he
could laid his strength onto the soil and lay the seeds to flourish into flower beds. He took his walks there in silence
and at times in penance for the crimes he had undertaken in battles. It was a vast garden, much more that he could
lose himself there and even tears were to fall; they will only be felt by him. It had been months since the death of his
sons, and the loss of his hand. He had taken his walk there as usual; that time he was not alone but sharing his
sanctuary was his brother.
The two elderly Adrian had not seen much of the others; they still bear the shame of his family for the so called
attempt on the brother of the leather. More to it, the other Adrian had seen to considered him as a madman with his
raving mutterings on his own.
They saw then in the coming distance, the young Junior and Lavinia in a rushed manner. The young boy held some
books under his arm.
“Help, grand sire, help! My Aunt Lavinia.”Junior cried out while he approached the elderly men. “Lavinia follows
me everywhere, I know not why.”
“Good Uncle Micheal, see how swift she comes.” Junior called on the other. He had taken cover behind Micheal and
having soon dropped his books. “Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.”
“Stand by me, Lucas; do not fear thine aunt.” Micheal protected the other. It made the elderly Adrian smiled.
“She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.” Titus defended his own daughter. “She will not harm thee.”
“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 grief would make men mad; And I have read that Hecuba of Troy ran mad through sorrow: that
made me to fear.” Junior spoke out in rushed manner. “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 Micheal go, I will most willingly
attend your ladyship.”
“Junior, I will…” Micheal saw the niece of his approached them but she stopped before the books. She was leafing
the pages with urgency.
“How now, Lavinia! Micheal, what means this?” Titus saw the daughter of his with her acts. “Some book there is
that she desires to see?”
Titus went down on his knees to join the lady.
“Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.” Titus motioned to Junior. “But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd
Come, and take choice of all thy library, and so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens reveal the damn'd contriver of
this deed.”
“Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?” Titus saw the other had difficulty moving the pages and raised her
arms in frustration.
“I think she means that there was more than one confederate in the fact: ay, more there was; Or else to heaven she
heaves them for revenge.” Micheal explained his words.
“Junior, what book is that she tosseth so?” Titus asked when he saw Lavinia focused on the one book.
“Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses.” Junior told Titus. “My mother gave it me.”
“For love of her that's gone”, Micheal leaned down to look at the book. “Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.”
“Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves!” Titus seat himself on the ground to assist his daughter. “What would she
find? Lavinia, shall I read?”
“This is the tragic tale of Philomel,” Titus called out. “And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape: And rape, I fear,
was root of thine annoy.”
“See, brother, see. Note how she quotes the leaves.” Micheal spoke out.
“Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl.” Titus was impressed by his daughter. “Ravish'd and wrong'd, as
Philomela was, forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods? See, see! Ay, such a place there is, where we did
hunt-- O, had we never, never hunted there!-- Pattern'd by that the poet here describes, by nature made for murders
and for rapes.”
“O, why should nature build so foul a den.” Micheal spoke to Lavinia. “Unless the gods delight in tragedies?”
Lavinia stopped her search and looked to her uncle. He spoke that gods may delight in such tragedies. There are foul
deeds done on others but rape was such that leaves deep pains. Even if one was severed of the limbs, it would have
been more merciful for the pain was external but inflict one with the ravishment of the soul as in rape; the pain was
endless in the soul. The ones which had not suffered such pains, may speak of it in sobriety even judged it with
words but given the tormented to speak, it was reliving the hell once more in its entirety. That does not delight even
the gods if they were the tormented. Lavinia looked to the books. The gods did not delight in it, but gave her means
to the end. The books spoke of the rape of one named Philomela. It may be a delight to some readers, but to her, it
was her answer from the gods.
Her endless pain may end with that answer if there was such to the pain she was inflicted.
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