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- Edition: Titus Andronicus
Titus Andronicus (Folio, 1623)
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38The Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
861For no name fits thy nature but thy owne.
863Your Mothers hand shall right your Mothers wrong.
864Deme. Stay Madam heere is more belongs to her,
867Vpon her Nuptiall vow, her loyaltie.
868And with that painted hope, braues your Mightinesse,
871I would I were an Eunuch,
873And make his dead Trunke-Pillow to our lust.
877Come Mistris, now perforce we will enioy,
881Laui. Sweet Lords intreat her heare me but a word.
883To see her teares, but be your hart to them,
884As vnrelenting flint to drops of raine.
885Laui. When did the Tigers young-ones teach the dam?
886O doe not learne her wrath, she taught it thee,
888Euen at thy Teat thou had'st thy Tyranny,
889Yet euery Mother breeds not Sonnes alike,
890Do thou intreat her shew a woman pitty.
891Chiro. What,
893Laui. 'Tis true,
894The Rauen doth not hatch a Larke,
895Yet haue I heard, Oh could I finde it now,
896The Lion mou'd with pitty, did indure
897To haue his Princely pawes par'd all away.
900Oh be to me though thy hard hart say no,
902Tamo. I know not what it meanes, away with her.
904That gaue thee life when well he might haue slaine thee:
905Be not obdurate, open thy deafe eares.
908Remember Boyes I powr'd forth teares in vaine,
911Therefore away with her, and vse her as you will,
912The worse to her, the better lou'd of me.
913Laui. Oh Tamora,
914Be call'd a gentle Queene,
915And with thine owne hands kill me in this place,
916For 'tis not life that I haue beg'd so long,
920That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:
923Where neuer mans eye may behold my body,
924Doe this, and be a charitable murderer.
927Deme. Away,
929Lauinia. No Garace,
930No womanhood? Ah beastly creature,
931The blot and enemy to our generall name,
932Confusion fall---
934Bring thou her husband,
935This is the Hole where Aaron bid vs hide him.
937Nere let my heart know merry cheere indeed,
938Till all the Andronici be made away:
939Now will I hence to seeke my louely Moore,
941Enter Aaron with two of Titus Sonnes.
942Aron. Come on my Lords, the better foote before,
943Straight will I bring you to the lothsome pit,
948Quin. What art thou fallen?
949What subtile Hole is this,
950Whose mouth is couered with Rude growing Briers,
953A very fatall place it seemes to me:
954Speake Brother hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
955Martius. Oh Brother,
957That euer eye with sight made heart lament.
959That he thereby may haue a likely gesse,
960How these were they that made away his Brother.
961Exit Aaron.
963From this vnhallow'd and blood-stained Hole?
965A chilling sweat ore-runs my trembling ioynts,
968Aaron and thou looke downe into this den,
970Quintus. Aaron is gone,
971And my compassionate heart
972Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
974Oh tell me how it is, for nere till now
975Was I a child, to feare I know not what.
977All on a heape like to the slaughtred Lambe,
978In this detested, darke, blood-drinking pit.
981A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole:
982Which like a Taper in some Monument,
983Doth shine vpon the dead mans earthly cheekes,
984And shewes the ragged intrailes of the pit:
986When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden blood:
987O Brother helpe me with thy fainting hand.
988If feare hath made thee faint, as mee it hath,
989Out of this fell deuouring receptacle,
991Quint. Reach me thy hand, that I may helpe thee out,
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