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Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn;
Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come.
Mar. My hand shall go.
By heaven, it shall not go. Tit. Sirs, strive no more; such wither'd herbs as
these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, Let me redeem my brothers both from death. Mar. And, for our father's sake, and mother's
Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand.
But I will use the axe.
(Exeunt Lucius and Marcus. Tit. Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both; Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
Aar. If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,
[Aside. [He cuts off Titus's hand.
Enter Lucius and Marcus.
Tit. Now, stay your strife ; what shall be, is de
Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand :
Lar. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand,
Tit. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: If any power pities wretched tears, To that I call ;-What, wilt thou kneel with me?
[To Lavinia. Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our
Mar. 0 ! brother, speak with possibilities,
Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom! Then be my passions* bottomless with them.
Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Tit. If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes : When leaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threat'ning the welkint with his big-swoln face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coilt? I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! She is tlie weeping welkin, I the earth : They must my sea be moved with her sighs;
+ The sky.
* Stir, bustle,
Then must my earth with her continual tears
ble sons ;
Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand.
Asess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
[Lavinia kisses him. ! Mar. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless, As frozen water to a starved snake.
Tit. When will this fearful slurnber have an end?
Mar. Now, farewell flattery: Die, Andronicus; Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads; Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter here; Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodiess; and thy brother, I, Even like a stony image, cold and numb. Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs: Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!
(Ereunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia.
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
A room in Titus's house. A banquet set out.
Enter Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and Young Lucius,
a boy, Tit. So, so; now sit: and look, you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen kuot; Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands, And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannise upon my breast; And when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down.Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs !
[To Lavinia. When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating, Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; Or get some little knife between thy teeth, And just against thy heart make thou a hole; That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall, May run into that sink, and soaking in, Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
Mar. Fye, brother, fye! teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life. Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote al
ready? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. What violent hands can she lay on her life?