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

Tam. I will not hear her speak: away with


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

Dem. Listen, fair madam: Let it be your

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 milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble;

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 self a bastard?

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

Yet I have heard (oh! could I find it now!)
The lion 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


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


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

That gave thee life, when well he might have slain 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; But fierce Andronicus would not relent. Therefore away with her, and use her as you will;


The worse to her, the better lov'd of me.
Lav. O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
And with thine own hands kill me in
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.

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

That womanhood denies my tongue to tell :
Ob! 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


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


The blot and enemy to our general name!
Confusion 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. Tam. Farewell, my sons: see that you make

SCENE IV.-The same.

Aar. Come on, my lords; the better foot be-

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;
That he thereby may give a likely guess,
How these were they that made away his brother.
Mart. Why dost not comfort me, and help

me out

From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole? Quin. I am surprised with an uncouth fear: A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. Mart. To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,

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 Mooi,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.


Aaron and thou look down into this den,
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
Quin. Aaron is gone; and my compassionate


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

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 1 no strength to climb without thy

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.
Sut. Along with me:-I'll see what hole is

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

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.

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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.

SCENE V-The same.

Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, with LAVINIA, ravished; her Hands cut off, and her Tongue cut out.

• Latimely.

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

Dem. If thou hadst hands to help thee kuit
the cord.


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; And if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. Dem. See, how with signs and tokeus she can scowl. Chi. Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy bands.

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Sat. Thou shalt not bail them: see, thou follow me. [derers : Some bring the murder'd body, some the mur-As 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 severally.

And might not gain so great a happiness,
As half 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 deflower'd thee;
And, lest thou should'st detect him, cut thy


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 lute,
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touch'd them for his
Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony,
Which that sweet tongue hath made,

He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell

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 mouths of tears thy father's
eyes ?

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



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,

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.

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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 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

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

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

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;
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 soft as wax, tribunes more hard than


A stone is silent, and offendeth not:
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to


But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?

Luc. To rescue my two brothers from their


For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd
My everlasting doon 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,
Bat me and mine: How happy art thou then,
From these devourers to be banished!
But who comes with our brother Marcus here?

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.-
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;
For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.
Luc. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd

Mar. Oh that delightful engine of her

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

• The river Nile.

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 ?

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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 envions 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-

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


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 bands, like thine ?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb


Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep;
Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break;
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
Tit. Will it consume me? let me see it then.
Mar. This was thy daughter.

Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot some device of further misery,

Tit. Why, Marcus, so she is.-
Lac. 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. Faint hearted boy, arise, and look upon See how my wretched sister sobs 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, hast drown'd it with thine

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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


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.

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

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 :

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? +

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?


Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of 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

Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended

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
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 berbs as these

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy


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. Tit. Agree between you: I will spare hand.

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

And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call:-What, wilt thou kneel with me?

Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our

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 :
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 :-
But I'll deceive you in another sort, [Aside.
And that you'll say, ere half an hour can pass.
[He cuts off TITUS' Hand.

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 bosons.
Mar. O brother, speak with possibilities.
And do not break into these deep extremes.

Tit. Is not my sorrow deep having no bot.

Then be my passions

bottomless with them. Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lament. 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?

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 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 sons with thee:-

And yet detested life not shrink thereat! my That ever death should let life bear his name, 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 ?

Their heads, I mean.-Oh! how this villany
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.

Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thon 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.

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
But sorrow flouted at is double death.

Luc. Ah! that this sight should make so deep
a wound,

Thou dost not slumber : see, thy two son's 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 inore wili í control thy griefs :

Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be, is Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand

Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight

Mar. Now, farewell, flattery: Die, Audroni


The closing up of our most wretched eyes!
Now is a time to storm-why art thou still?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with

this hour.

Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides this sorrow is an enemy,

And would usurp upon my watery 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,

⚫ Sufferings.

↑ Stir, bustle.

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Till all these mischiefs be return'd again,
Even in their throats that have committed

Come, let me see what task I have to do.-
You heavy people, circle me about;

That I may turn ine 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

As for thee, boy, go, got thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie 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.

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 his pledges dearer than his life.
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;
Ob! would thon 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 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.


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

Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA, and young LUCIUS, a boy.

Tit. So, so; now sit: and look, you eat no


Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. Marcas, 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 tyrannise upon my breast; And when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down.

Thou map of woe that thus dost talk in signs! [TO LAVINIA. 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. Mar. Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life. Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote


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

To bid Eneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt, and be made miserable!
handle not the theme, to talk of hands;
Lest we remember still, that we have none.-
e, fie, how frantickly I square my talk!
if we should forget we had no hands,
Marcus did not name the word of hands!-
te, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this :-
ere is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she

Can interpret all her martyr'd signs;~~~

He says, she drinks no other drink but tears, ew'd with her sorrows, mesh'd upon her

cheeks: *

An aliasion 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

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 mean-

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

And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

[MARCUS strikes the Dish with a Knife. What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy


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 mother?

How would be 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.


SCENE 1.-The same.-Before TITUS'

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


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

Boy. Ay, when my father was in Rome, she
Mar. What means my niece Lavinia by these

• Constant practice.

+ This was formerly not a disrespectful expression.

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