With all my heart, I'll send the emperor Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of thine, And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come. 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 care, Now let me show a brother's love to thee. Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand. Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe. Mar. 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, 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. Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be, is despatch'd. Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: 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 prayers; Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threat'ning the welkin2 with his big-swoln face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?1 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 wo is me to think upon thy woes, More than remembrance of my father's death. [Exil. Mar. Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an everburning hell! These miseries are more than may be borne! To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal, But sorrow flouted at is double death. Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, And yet detested life not shrink thereat! That ever death should let life bear his name, Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! [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 (1) Stir, bustle. Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, 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.You heavy people, circle me about; That I may turn me to each one of you, And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. The vow is made.-Come, brother, take a head; And in this hand the other will I bear: Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things; Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; [Exeunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia. Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father; The woful'st man that ever liv'd in Rome! Farewell, proud Rome! till Lucius come again, He leaves his pledges dearer than his life. Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister; O, 'would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been! But now nor Lucius, nor Lavinia lives, If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs; Tit. So, so; now sit: and look, you eat no more With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine And when my heart, all mad with misery, Then thus I thump it down. Thou map of wo, 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. Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life. Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. |