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up to heaven； And bow this feeble ruin to the earth； If any power pities
wretched tears； To that I call！ ＇To LAVINIA＇ What； would'st thou kneel
with me？ 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。
MARCUS。 O brother； speak with possibility； And do not break into these
deep extremes。 TITUS。 Is not my sorrow deep； having no bottom？ Then be
my passions bottomless with them。 MARCUS。 But yet let reason govern
thy lament。 TITUS。 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…swol'n face？ And wilt thou have a reason for this coil？
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 MESSENGER。
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 grief their sports； thy resolution mock'd； That
woe is me to think upon thy woes； More than remembrance of my father's
death。 Exit MARCUS。 Now let hot Aetna 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。 LUCIUS。 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
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TITUS＇ MARCUS。 Alas； poor heart； that kiss is comfortless As frozen
water to a starved snake。 TITUS。 When will this fearful slumber have an
end？ MARCUS。 Now farewell； flatt'ry； 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 Struck pale and bloodless；
and thy brother； I； Even like a stony image； cold and numb。 Ah！ now no
more will I control thy griefs。 Rent off thy silver hair； thy other hand
Gnawing with thy teeth； and be this dismal sight The closing up of our
most wretched eyes。 Now is a time to storm； why art thou still？ TITUS。
Ha； ha； ha！ MARCUS。 Why dost thou laugh？ It fits not with this hour。
TITUS。 Why； I have not another tear to shed； Besides； this sorrow is an
enemy； And would usurp upon my wat'ry 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。 And； Lavinia； thou shalt be
employ'd in this； Bear thou my hand； sweet wench； between thy teeth。 As
for thee； boy； go； get thee from my sight； Thou art an exile； and thou must
not stay。 Hie to the Goths and raise an army there； And if ye love me； as I
think you do； Let's kiss and part； for we have much to do。 Exeunt all but
Lucius LUCIUS。 Farewell； Andronicus； my noble father； The woefull'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 But in oblivion and hateful griefs。 If Lucius live；
he will requite your wrongs And make proud Saturnine and his emperess
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen。 Now will I to the Goths； and
raise a pow'r To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine。 Exit
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SCENE II。 Rome。 TITUS' house
A banquet。
Enter TITUS； MARCUS； LAVINIA； and the boy YOUNG LUCIUS
TITUS。 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 niece and I； poor creatures；
want our hands； And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms。
This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannize upon my breast； Who；
when my heart； all mad with misery； Beats in this hollow prison of my
flesh； Then thus I thump it down。 ＇To LAVINIA＇ Thou map of woe； that
thus dost talk in signs！ 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。 MARCUS。 Fie； brother； fie！ Teach her not thus to lay Such
violent hands upon her tender life。 TITUS。 How now！ Has sorrow made
thee dote already？ Why； Marcus； no man should be mad but I。 What
violent hands can she lay on her life？ Ah； wherefore dost thou urge the
name of hands？ To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er How Troy was burnt
and he made miserable？ O； handle not the theme； to talk of hands； Lest we
remember still that we have none。 Fie； fie； how franticly I square my talk；
As if we should forget we had no hands； If Marcus did not name the word
of hands！ Come； let's fall to； and； gentle girl； eat this： Here is no drink。
Hark； Marcus； what she says… I can interpret all her martyr'd signs； She
says she drinks no other drink but tears； Brew'd with her sorrow； mesh'd
upon her cheeks。 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。
MARCUS。 Alas； the tender boy； in passion mov'd； Doth weep to see his
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grandsire's heaviness。 TITUS。 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？ MARCUS。 At
that that I have kill'd； my lord… a fly。 TITUS。 Out on thee； murderer；