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My everlafting doom of banishment..

TIT. O happy man! they have befriended thee.
Why, foolish Lucius, doft thou not perceive,
That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?

Tigers must prey; and Rome affords no prey,
But me and mine: How happy art thou then,
From thefe devourers to be banished?

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

MAR. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep;
Or, if not fo, thy noble heart to break;

I bring confuming forrow to thine age.

TIT. Will it confume me? let me fee it then.
MAR. This was thy daughter.

TIT. Why, Marcus, fo fhe is.

Luc. Ah me! this object kills me!

TIT. Faint-hearted boy, arife, and look upon
Speak, my Lavinia, what accurfed hand
Hath made thee handlefs in thy father's fight?
What fool hath added water to the fea?
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height, before thou cam'st,
And now, like Nilus, it difdaineth bounds.—
Give me a fword, I'll chop off my hands too;
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;
And they have nurs'd this woe, in feeding life;
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
And they have ferv'd me to effectlefs ufe:
Now, all the fervice I require of them
Is, that the one will help to cut the other.
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou haft no hands;
For hands, to do Rome fervice, are but vain.

her:

Luc. Speak, gentle fifter, who hath martyr'd thee?

MAR. O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
That blabb'd them with fuch pleafing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage;
Where, like a fweet melodious bird, it fung
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!

Luc. O, fay thou for her, who hath done this deed?
MAR. O, thus I found her, ftraying in the park,
Seeking to hide herfelf; as doth the deer,
That hath receiv'd fome 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 ftand as one upon a rock,
Environ'd with a wilderness of sea ;

Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when fome envious furge

Will in his brinish bowels fwallow him.

This

way to death

my

wretched fons are gone ;

Here ftands my other fon, a banish'd man ;

And here my brother, weeping at my woes;
But that, which gives my foul the greatest spurn,
Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my foul.-

Had I but feen thy picture in this plight,
It would have madded me; What shall I do
Now I behold thy lively body fo?

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Thou haft no hands, to wipe away thy tears;
Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee :
Thy husband he is dead; and, for his death,
Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this :-
Look, Marcus! ah, fon 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.

[hufband:

MAR. Perchance, fhe weeps because they kill'd her

Perchance, because she knows them innocent.

TIT. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.—
No, no, they would not do fo foul a deed;
Witness the forrow that their fifter makes.-
Gentle Lavinia, let me kifs thy lips;

Or make fome fign how I may do thee ease:
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, fit round about fome fountain
Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks
How they are ftain'd; like meadows, yet not dry
With miry flime left on them by a flood?
And in the fountain fhall we gaze fo long,
Till the fresh tafte be taken from that clearness,
And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
Or fhall we cut away our hands, like thine?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb fhows
Pafs the remainder of our hateful days?

What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot fome device of further mifery,

To make us wonder'd at in time to come.

Luc. Sweet father, ceafe your tears; for, at your grief, See, how my wretched fifter fobs and weeps.

MAR. Patience, dear niece:-good Titus, dry thine eyes.
TIT. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot,
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,

For thou, poor man, haft drown'd it with thine own.
Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
TIT. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her figns :
Had fhe a tongue to fpeak, now would she say
That to her brother which I faid to thee e;
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
Can do no fervice on her forrowful cheeks.

O, what a fympathy of woe is this!

As far from help as limbo is from blifs.

Enter AARON.

AAR. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor
Sends thee this word,-That, if thou love thy fons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyfelf, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
And send it to the king: he for the fame,
Will fend thee hither both thy fons alive;
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
TIT. O, gracious emperor! O, gentle Aaron!
Did ever raven fing fo like a lark,

That gives fweet tidings of the fun's uprife?
With all my heart, I'll fend the emperor
My hand;

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of thine,
That hath thrown down fo
many enemies,

Shall not be fent; my hand will ferve the turn :
My youth can better spare my blood than you;
And therefore mine fhall fave my brothers' lives.
MAR. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-ax,

Writing deftruction on the enemy's castle?

O, none of both but are of high defert :

My hand hath been but idle; let it ferve

To ranfom my two nephews from their death

Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

;

AAR. Nay, come agree, whose hand fhall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come.

MAR. My hand shall go.

Luc. By heaven, it fhall not go.

TIT. Sirs, strive no more; fuch wither'd herbs as these

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I fhall be thought thy fon,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.

MAR. And, for our father's fake, and mother's care, Now let me show a brother's love to thee.

Tır. Agree between you; I will fpare my hand.
Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe.

MAR. But I will ufe 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 fort,

And that you'll fay, ere half an hour can pass.

[Afide.

[He cuts off TITUS's band.

Enter LUCIUS and MARCUS.

TIT. Now, ftay your ftrife; what shall be, is defpatch'd.—

Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand :

Tell him, it was a hand that warded him

From thousand dangers; bid him bury it;
More hath it merited, that let it have.
As for my fons, fay, I account of them
As jewels purchas'd at an easy price;

And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
AAR. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand,
Look by and by to have thy fons with thee :-
Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy

[Afide.

Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!

Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,

Aaron will have his foul black like his face.

[Exit.

TIT. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,

And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:

VOL. V.

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