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Chi. I warrant you, madam; we will make that sure.

Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preserved honesty of your's.

Lar. O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,

Tam. I will not hear her speak away with ber.

Lav. Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.

Dem. Listen, fair madam: Let it be your glory

To see her tears: but be your heart to them,
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.

Lav. When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam ?

Oh! do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee: The mulk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble;

SCENE IV.-The same.

Enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS.

Aar. Come on, my lords; the better foot before:

Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit,
Where I espy'd the panther fast asleep.

Quin. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. Mart. And mine, I promise you; wer't not for shame,

Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
[MARTIUS falls into the Pit.
Quin. What art thou fallen? What subtle hole
is this,

Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers ;
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood,
As fresh as morning's dew distill'd on flowers?
A very fatal place it seems to me :-
Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
Mart. O brother, with the dismallest object
That ever eye, with sight, made heart lament.
Aar. [Aside.] Now will I fetch the king to
find them here;

Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.—
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike;
Do thou entreat her show a woman's pity.
[To CHIRON.
Chi. What! would'st thou have me prove my-That he thereby may give a likely guess,
How these were they that made away his brother.
[Exit.
Mart. Why dost not comfort me, and help

self a bastard?

Lav. 'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:

Yet I have heard (oh! could I find it now!)
The bon mov'd with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws par'd all away.
Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
The whilst their own birds famish in their

nests:

Oh! be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!

Tam. I know not what it means: away with

her.

Lat. Oh! let me teach thee: for my father's sake,

That gave thee life, when well he might have stain thee,

Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.

Tam. Had thou in person ne'er offended me Even for his sake am I pitiless :Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, To save your brother from the sacrifice; Bst ferce Andronicus would not relent. Therefore away with her, and use her as you wil;

The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.

Lat. O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, And with thine own hands kill me in this place:

For "tis not life that I have begg'd so long;
Poor I was slain, when Bassianus died.
Tam. What begg'st thou then: fond woman,
let me go.

Ler. "Tis present death I beg; and one thing

more,

That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:
05 keep me from their worse than killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit;
Where sever man's eye may behold my body:
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.

Tam. So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee :

No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.

Dem. Away, for thou hast staid us here too long.

Lar. No grace? no womanhood? Ah! beastly creature !

The blot and enemy to our general name !
Gafon fall-

Chi. Nay, then, I'll stop your mouth :-Bring thou her husband;

[Dragging off LAVINIA. This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Exeunt. Ten. Farewell, my sons: see that you make ber sure:

er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, Tall the Andronici be made away.

o will I hence to seek my lovely Mooi, Amd let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.

[Exit.

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Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing, whereat it trembles by surmise:
Oh! tell me how it is; for ne'er till now
Was I a child, to fear I know not what.

Mart. Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit,
Quin. If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis
he?

Mart. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of this pit: So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus, When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood. O brother, help me with thy fainting hand,If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath,-Out of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.

Quin. Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;

Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.

I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
Mart. Nor I no strength to climb without thy

help.

Quin. Thy hand once more; I will not loose Till thou art here aloft, or I below: [again, Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee. [Falls in.

Enter SATURNINUS and AARON. Sat. Along with me:-I'll see what hole is here, And what he is, that now is leap'd into it. Say, who art thou, that lately didst descend Into this gaping hollow of the earth?

Mart. The unhappy son of old Andronicus: Brought thither in a most unlucky hour, To find thy brother Bassianus dead.

Sat. My brother dead? I know thou dost but jest:

He and his lady both are at the lodge, Upon the north side of this pleasant chase: ['Tis not an hour since I left him there.

Mart. We know not where you left him all
alive,

But, out alas! here have we found him dead.
Enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS AN-
DRONICUS, and LUCIUS.

Tam. Where is my lord, the king?

Sat. Here, Tamora; though griev'd with killing grief.

Tam. Where is thy brother Bassianus ?

Sat. Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound:

Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.

Tum. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
[Giving a Letter.
The complot of this timeless tragedy;
And wonder greatly, that man's face can fold
In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
Sat. [Reads.] An if we miss to meet him
handsomely,-

Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis, we mean,-
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him;
Thou know'st our meaning; Look for thy re-
ward

Among the nettles at the elder tree,

Which overshades the mouth of that same pit,

Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.

O Tamora! was ever heard the like ?
This is the pit, and this the elder tree:
Look, Sirs, if you can find the huntsman out,
That should have murder'd Bassianus here.
Aur. My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
[Showing it.
Sat. Two of thy whelps, [To Tir.] fell curs of
bloody kind,

Have here bereft my brother of his fe :--
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison;
There let them bide, until we have devis'd
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
Tam. What, are they in this pit ↑ O wondrous
thing!

How easily murder is discovered!

Tit. High emperor, upon my feeble knee
I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,
That this fell fault of my accursed sons,
Accursed, if the fault be prov'd in them,-
Sat. If it be prov'd! you see, it is appa-

rent.

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Of her two branches? those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to
sleep in ;

And might not gain so great a happiness,
As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?—
Like' to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But sure, some Tereus hath deflower'd thee;
And, lest thou should'st detect him, cut thy
tongue.

Ah! now thou turnest away thy face for shame,
And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood,-
As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,-
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blushing to be encounter'd with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say, 'tis so t
Oh! that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to ease my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus hast thou met withal,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
Oh! had the mouster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aspen leaves, upon a Jute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touch'd them for his
life;

Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? Tam. Andronicus himself did take it up. Tit. I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail: For by my father's reverend tomb, I vow, They shall be ready at your highness' will, Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony, To answer their suspicion with their lives. Which that sweet tongue hath made, Sat. Thou shalt not bail them: see, thou fol- He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell low me. [derers : asleep. Some bring the murder'd body, some the murLet them not speak a word, the guilt is plain; For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,

That end upon them should be executed.

Tam. Andronicus, I will entreat the king: Fear not thy sons, they shall do well enough. Tit. Come, Lucius, come stay not to talk with them.

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As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet,
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind:
For such a sight will blind a father's eye:
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
What will whole months of tears thy father's
eyes?

Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee;
Oh! could our mouruing ease thy misery !

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE 1.-Rome.—A Street.

Enter SENATORS, TRIBUNES, and Officers of
Justice, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound,
passing on to the Place of Execution: Ti-
TUS going before, pleading.

Tit. Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes,
stay!

For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept ;
For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed;
For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd;

• Orpheus.

And for these bitter tears, which now you see
Fulling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;
Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought!
For two and twenty sons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed:
For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write
[Throwing himself on the Ground.
My heart's deep languor, and my soul's sad tears.
Let my tears staunch the earth's dry appetite:
My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and
blush.

Breunt SENATORS, TRIBUNES, &c.
with the Prisoners.

0 earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall distil from these two ancient urus,
Than youthful April shall with all his showers :
la summer's drought, I'll drop upon thee still:
In winter, with warm tears I'll melt the snow,
And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.

Enter LUCIUS, with his Sword drawn.
O reverend tribunes! gentle aged men !
Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death;
And let me say, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators.

Luc. O noble father, you lament in vain;
The tribunes hear you not, no man is by,
And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
Tit. Ah! Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead :
Grave tribanes, once more I entreat of you.
Luc. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you

speak.

T. Why, 'tis no matter, man: if they did
bear,

They would not mark me; or if they did mark,
All bootless to them, they'd not pity me.
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;

bo, thongh they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they're better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale :
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Bentive my tears, and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,

e could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than

stages:

A stets sient, and offendeth not:
And trees with their tongues doom men to
death.

But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon
drawn !

Lue. To rescue my two brothers from their
death:

Fer which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd
My everlasting doon of banishment.

Tr. O happy man, they have befriended thee.
, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive,
That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers ?
Tres mast prey; and Rome affords no prey,
But me and mine: How happy art thou then,
Fre these devourers to be banished!

Bs who comes with our brother Marcus here?
Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA.

Mr. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep;
Or. 1 not so, thy noble heart to break;
Ing consuming sorrow to thine age.

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Mar. Oh that delightful engine of her
thoughts,

That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage:
Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

Luc. Oh! say thou for her, who hath done this
deed?

Mar. Oh! thus I found her, staying in the
park,

Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer,
That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.

Tit. It was my deer; and he that wounded

her,

Hath hurt me more, than had he kill'd me dead :
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
Environ'd with a wilderness of sea;
Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when some envious surge
Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
Here stands my other son a banish'd man!
And here, my brother, weeping at my woes;
But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn,
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.-
Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,
It would have madded me; What shall I do
Now I behold thy lively body so?
Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears;
Nor tongue to tell me who has martyr'd thee:
Thy husband he is dead: and, for his death,
Thy brothers are condemn'd and dead by this :-
Look, Marcus! ah! son Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew
Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.

Mar. Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd
her husband:

Perchance, because she knows them innocent.
Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be joy.
ful,

Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.
No, no, they would not do so foul a deed;
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.-
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips;

Or make some sign how I may do thee ease:
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain;
Looking all downwards, to hehold our cheeks
How they are stain'd; like meadows, yet not
dry

With miry slime left on them by a flood ?
And in the fountain shall we gaze so long,
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,
Aud made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine ?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb
shows

Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,

T. Will it consume me? let me see it then. Plot some device of further misery,

Mar. This was thy daughter.

T. Why, Marcus, so she is.

Luc. Ah! me, this object kills me!

To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at
your grief,

Tit. Fant hearted boy, arise, and look upon See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.

ber:

forak, my Lavinia, what accursed hand
Fat made thee handless in thy father's sight?
What food hath added water to the sea,

ught a faggot to bright burning Troy? chef was at the height before thou cam'st, And, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds,

* a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain ;

• The river Nile.

Mar. Patience, dear niece :-good Titus, dry

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Tit. Mark, Marqus, mark! I understand ber
signs:

Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
That to her brother which I said to thee;
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
Oh! what a sympathy of woe is this?
As far from help as limbo is from bliss!

Enter AARON.

Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor Sends thee this word,-That, if thou love thy sons,

Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
And send it to the king: he for the same,
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive:
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
Tit. O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron !
Did ever raven sing so like a lark,

That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise ?
With all my heart, I'll send the emperor
My hand:

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Tit. Oh! here I lift this one hand up to hea ven,

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

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.
Mar. O brother, speak with possibilities.
And do not break into these deep extremes.
Tit. Is not my sorrow deep having no bot-
tom?

Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lameut.
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'erflow ?

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?+

Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!

thine,

That hath thrown down so many enemies,
Shall not be sent : my hand will serve the turn:
My youth can better spare my blood than you;
And therefore mine shall save my brother's
lives.

Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended
Rome,

And rear'd aloft the bloody battle axe,
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle ?
O none of both but are of high desert:
My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
To ransom my two nephews from their death;
Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go
along,

For fear they die before their pardon come.
Mar. My hand shall go.

Luc. 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.

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 losess 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,

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!

Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my That ever death should let life bear his name,

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:

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, Androni

cus;

Lend me thine 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 :- Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two son's heads,
But I'll deceive you in another sort, [Aside. Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
And that you'll say, ere half an hour can pass. Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight
[He cuts off TITUS' Hand. Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Enter LUCIUS and MARCUS.
Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs:
Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be, is Rent off thy silver hair, thy other band

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Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal

sight

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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, got thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
He to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.

[Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA. Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father; The woeful'st man that ever liv'd in Rome! Farewell, proud Rome! till Lucius come again, He leaves hus pledges dearer than his life. Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;

Oh! would thon wert as thou 'tofore hast been!
But now nor Lucias nor Lavinia lives,
Bat in oblivion, and hateful griefs.

If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;
And make prond Saturninus and his empress
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,
To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine.

[Exit.

SCENE II-A Room in TITUS' House.A Banquet set out.

Exter 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 knot;
Thy mece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With foided arms. This poor right hand of mine
la left to tyrannise upon my breast;
Aad when my heart, all mad with misery,
Beats in this bollow prison of my flesh,
Then thas I thump it down.-

Thou map of woe that thus dost talk in signs!
[TO LAVINIA.
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous
beating,

This 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 thon a hole;
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall,
May run into that sink, and soaking in,
Down the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
Mer. Fir, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay
Soch violent hands upon her tender life.

Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote already ?

#v. Marcus, no man should be mad but I. What violent hands can she lay on her life! Aà marrefore dost thou urge the name of

bands;

To had Æneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt, and be made miserable!
made not the theme, to talk of hands;
Lest we remember still, that we have none.-
Fr. Se, bow frantickly I square my talk!
Af we should forget we had no hands,

U Marcas did not name the word of bands !-
Cur, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:-
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she

1 interpret all her martyr'd signs;Rar says, she drinks no other drink but tears, Brew'd wild her sorrows, mesh'd upon her checks: *—

An allusion to brewing.

Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect,
As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to
heaven,

Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
But I, of these, will wrest an alphabet,

And, by still practice, learn to know thy meaning.

Boy. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments:

Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale. Mar. Alas! the tender boy, in passion mov'd, Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.

Tit. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears,

And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

[MARCUS strikes the Dish with a Knife. What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife ? Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a

fly.

Tit. Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart;

Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
A deed of death, done on the innocent,
Becomes not Titus' brother: Get thee gone;
I see thou art not for my company.

Mar. Alas! my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
Tit. But how, if that fly had a father and mo-

ther?

How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
And buz lamenting doings in the air?
Poor harmless fly!

That, with his pretty buzzing melody,

Came here to make us merry; and thou hast kill'd him.

Mar. Pardon me, Sir; 'twas a black ill-favour'd fly,

Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.
Tit. Oh! oh! oh!

Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor
Come hither purposely to poison me.-
There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.-
Ah! sirrah! +-

Yet I do think we are not brought so low,
But that, between us, we can kill a fly,
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
Mar. Alas! poor man! grief has so wrought
on him,

He takes false shadows for true substances.

Tit. Come, take away.-Lavinia, go with me: I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee Sad stories, chanced in the times of old.Come, boy, and go with me; thy sight is young, And thou shalt read, when mine begins to dazzle. [Exeunt

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.-The same.-Before TITUS'

House.

Enter TITUS and MARCUS. Then enter young LUCIUS, LAVINIA running after him. Boy. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia Follows me every where, I know not why:— Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes! Alas! sweet aunt, I know not what you mean. Mar. Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine

aunt.

Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.

Boy. Ay, when my father was in Rome, she did.

Mar. What means my niece Lavinia by these sigus?

• Constant practice. This was formerly not a disrespectful expression.

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