Dem. Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her;

First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: This minion stood upon her chastity,

Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, tAnd with that painted hope braves your mightiness:

And shall she carry this unto her grave?

Chi. An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.

Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. Tam. But when ye have the honey ye desire, 131

Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. Chi. I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.

Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy That nice-preserved honesty of yours.

Lav. O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's

Lav. 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; 170 Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.

Tam. What begg'st thou, then ? fond woman, let me go.

Lav. 'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more

That womanhood denies my tongue to tell :
O, keep me from their worse than killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
Where never 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:

180

No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
Dem. Away! for thou hast stay'd us here
too long.
Lav. No grace? no womanhood? Ah,
beastly creature!

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

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

This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. [Demetrius throws the body of Bassianus

into the pit; then exeunt Demetrius and Chiron, dragging off Lavinia.

Tam. Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure.

Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,
Till all the Andronici be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, 190
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflour.

[Exit.

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 the pit: 230 So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. O brother, help me with thy fainting handIf fear hath made thee faint, as me it hathOut of this fell devouring receptacle, As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.

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

240

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 again,

Till thou art here aloft, or I below: Thou canst not come to me; I come to thee. [Falls in.

Enter SATURNINUS with 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?

251

Mart. The unhappy son of old Andronicus: Brought hither 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. Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and LUCIUS.

Tam. Where is my lord the king?

Sat. Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. 260

Tam. Where is thy brother Bassianus ? Sat. Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound :

Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.

Tam. Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, The complot of this timeless tragedy; And wonder greatly that man's face can fold In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. [She giveth Saturnine a letter 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: 270
Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy

Let 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. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LaVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

Dem. So. now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,

Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.

Chi.

Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,

An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. Dem. See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.

Chi. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.

Dem. She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;

And so let's leave her to her silent walks. Chi. An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself.

Dem. If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. 10 [Exeunt Demetrius and Chiron.

Enter MARCUS

Mar. Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!

Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would
wake me!

If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to
sleep in,

20

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

Ah, now thou turn'st 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 31
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so?
O, 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, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble, like aşpen-leaves, upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss

them,

41

He would not then have touch'd them for his life!

Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made.

Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS 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;
And for these bitter tears, which now you see
Filling 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 honor's lofty bed.

10

[Lieth down; the Judges, &c., pass by him, and Exeunt. For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears:

Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; My sons' sweet blood will make it shame

and blush.

O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall distil from these two ancient urns,
Than youthful April shall with all his showers:
In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still
In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow,20
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! O 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.

30

Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,Luc. My gracious lord, no tribune hears

you speak.

Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man; if they did

hear,

They would not pity me, yet plead I must; †And bootless unto them..

Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,

40

For that they will not intercept my tale :
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
A stone is soft as wax,-tribunes more hard
than stones;

A stone is silent, and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom_men
to death.
[Rises.
But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon
drawn?

Luc. To rescue my two brothers from their death:

For which attempt the judges have pronounced

My everlasting doom of banishment.

50

Tit. O happy man! they have befriended thee.

Why, foolish Lucius, dost 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 these devourers to be banished!
But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA.

Marc. Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep;

Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break : 60
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
Tit. Will it consume me? let me see it,
then.

Marc. This was thy daughter.
Tit.
Why, Marcus, so she is.
Luc. Ay me, this object kills me!
Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon
her.

Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand

Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight?

What fool hath added water to the sea,
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height before thou camest,
And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. 71
Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too;
For they have fought for Rome, and all in

vain;

Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead:
For now I stand as one upon a rock
Environed 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 banished man,
And here my brother, weeping at my woes:
But that which gives my soul the greatest
spurn,

101

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 hath martyr'd
thee:

Thy husband he is dead and for his death Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. 109

Look, Marcus! al, 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.

Marc. Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;

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

joyful,

120

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 behold our cheeks
How they are stain'd, as 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,
And 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
131
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shail we do? let us, that have our

tongues,

Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor 150 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:

160

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? Luc. Stay, father! for that noble hand of 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 brothers' lives.

Marc. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?170
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.
Marc. 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,

180

Let me redeem my brothers both from death. Marc. 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.
Marc. 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. [Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,

And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: 190
But I'll deceive you in another sort,
And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass.
[Cuts off Titus's hand.

Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS. Tit. Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'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 sons, say I account of them
As jewels purchased at an easy price;
And yet dear too, because I bought mine