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DEMET. 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. [Exeunt CHIRON and DEMETRIUS, the former dragging off LAVINIA, and the latter the body of BASSIANUS.

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,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflour. [Exit.

SCENE IV.-The same.

Enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS.

AARON. Come on, my lords, the better foot

before:

Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.

QUINT. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. MART. And mine, I promise you; were 't not for shame,

Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. [Falls into the pit.

QUINT. 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 dismall'st object
hurt,*

That ever eye with sight made heart lament! AARON. [Aside.] Now will I fetch the king to find them here,

That he thereby may givet a likely guess,
How these were they that made away his brother.
[Exit.
MART. Why dost not comfort me and help me

out

From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?

QUINT. I am surprised with an uncouth" fear; A chilling sweat o'erruns my trembling joints; My heart suspects more than my eye can see.

MART. To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, Aaron and thou look down into this den, And see a fearful sight of blood and death.

QUINT. Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart

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

MART. Lord Bassianus lies embrued here,
All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINT. If it be dark, how dost thou know 't is
he?

MART. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring, that lightens all the hole; (2) Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of the 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.

QUINT. 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.

QUINT. 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.

(*) First folio omits, hurt. (1) First folio, earthly.

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 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.

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(†) First folio, have.

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(§) First folio, Ocitus.

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 apparent.— 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, To answer their suspicion with their lives.

SAT. Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow

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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,

And might not gain so great a happiness

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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 defloured 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
Blushing to be encounter'd with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say, 't is 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 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 aspen-leaves upon a lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not, then, have touch'd them for his life!
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,b
He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep,
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:
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!

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Enter Senators, Tribunes, and Officers of Justice,

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,

For these, tribunes,-] The metrical deficiency in this line is supplied in the second folio by a repetition of the word "these,"

"For these, these tribunes," &c.

Malone thought it more likely some epithet of respect was given to the tribunes, and accordingly he printed,

Whose souls are not corrupted, as 't is thought.
For two-and-twenty sons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed.
For these, tribunes," in the dust I write

[Casting himself down. 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.

[Exeunt Senators, Tribunes, and Prisoners. 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;

(*) Old text, ruines. Corrected by Hanmer. "For these, good tribunes," &c.

But query,

"For these, 0, tribunes," &c.?

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

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! 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-
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 mark me; or, if they did mark,
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're better than the tribunes,
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 as soft wax,-tribunes more hard than
stones;

A stone is silent, and offendeth not;—
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to
death.-

But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon
[Rises.
drawn?

Luc. To rescue my two brothers from their death:
For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd
My everlasting doom of banishment.

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?

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[SCENE I. 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 cam'st,
And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.-
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain ;
Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too;
And they have nurs'd this woe, in feeding life;
In bootless
prayer have they been held up,
And they have serv'd me to effectless use:
Now all the service I require of them
Is, that the one will help to cut the other.-
'T is well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;
For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.

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

MARC. O, 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. O, say thou for her, who hath done this
deed?

MARC. O, thus I found her, straying 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 hath martyr'd thee
Thy husband he is dead, and for his death

b Speak, Lavinia, &c.] The second folio reads, and perhaps correctly,

C

"Speak, my Lavinia," &c.

-lively body-1 That is, "living body." So in Massinger's "Fatal Dowry," Act II. Sc. 1,

"That his dear father might interment have,
See, the young son enter'd a lively grave!"

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