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Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand.'
But I will use the axe.
[Exeunt Lucius and MARCUS. Tit. Come hithér, 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, And never, whilst I live, deceive men so :But I'll deceive you in another sort, And that you'll say, ere half an hour can pass. Aside.
He cuts off Titus's Hand.
Enter Lucius and MARCUS.
Aar. 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, is To that I call:- What, wilt thou kneel with me
TO LAVINIA, Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our
prayers; Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, :
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds, When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. • Már. O! 'brother, speak with possibilities, And do not break into these deep extremes.
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 heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'er
flow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoln face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow ! She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; Then must my earth with her continual tears !: Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd: For why? my bowels cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them. : Then give me leave; for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger, with Two Heads and a Hand.
Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. Here are the heads of thy two noble sons ; And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; . Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd :: That woe is me to think upon thy woes, More than remembrance of my father's death.
[Exit. Mar. Now let hot Ætna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell! These miseries are more than may be borne!
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
. ini.. [LAVINIA kisses-him.Mar. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless, As frozen water to a starved snake...
. Tit. When will this fearful slumber 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 . I Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, .mm. Even like a stony image, cold and numb., o. , Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs: 1 Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand the skies Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight The closing up of our most wretched eyes! Now is a time to storm; why art thou still ?; !
Tit. Ha, ha, ha! ;iiii' .. .18, sve us! Mar. Why dost thou laugh it fits not with this
hour." : Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my watry eyes, And make them blind with tributary tears ; Then which way shall I find revenge's cave? For these two heads do seem to speak to me; And threat me, I shall never come to bliss, Till all these mischiefs be return'd again, Even in their throats that have committed them....!! Come, let me see what task I have to do.am: You heavy people, circle me about'; ...
1 That. I inay turn me to each one of you,... bindi
And-swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.ani
. [Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA.
SCENE II, iniisi.
A Room in Titus's House. A Banquet set out. ** Enter Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and young Lue
cius, a Boy... Fins 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 knot; ..., Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands in
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
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! Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands ;-* To bid Æneas tell the tale twice o'er, ...) How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable? O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands; Lest we remember still, that we have none. Fye, fye, how frantickly I square my talk! As if we should forget we had no hands, If Marcus did not name the word of hands! Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this: Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says; I can interpret all her martyr'd signs; She says, she drinks no other drink but tears, Brew'd with her sorrows, mesh'd upon hercheeks::
8 mesh'd upon her cheeks :] A very coarse allusion to brewing.