of Titus Andronicus.
11891148why fooli
sh Lucius, do
st thou not perceiue
11901149That Rome is but a wildernes of tygers?
11911150Tygers mu
st pray, and Rome a
ffords no pray
11921151But me and mine, how happie art thou then,
11931152From the
se deuourers to be bani
shed.
11941153But who comes with our brother
Marcus here?
11961155Marcus. Titus, prepare thy aged eies to weepe,
11971156Or if not
so, thy Noble hart to breake:
11981157I bring con
suming
sorrow to thine age.
11991158Titus. will it con
sume mee? Let me
see it then.
12021161Lucius. Ay mee, this Obie
ct kils mee.
12031162Titus. Faint-harted-boy, ari
se and looke vpon her.
12041163Speake
Lauinea, what accur
sed hand,
12051164Hath made thee handles in thy fathers
sight?
12061165what foole hath added water to the
sea?
12071166Or brought a faggot to bright burning
Troy?
12081167My griefe was at the height before thou cam
st,
12091168And now like
Nylus it di
sdaineth bounds.
12101169Giue me a
sword Ile choppe o
ff my hands too,
12111170For they haue fought for Rome, and all in vaine:
12121171And they haue nur
st this woe, in feeding life:
12141172In bootle
sse praier haue they beene held vp,
12151173And they haue
serude me to e
ffe
ctles v
se.
12161174Now all the
seruice I require of them,
12171175Is that the one will helpe to cut the other,
12181176Tis well L
auinia that thou ha
st no hands,
12191177For hands to doe Rome
seruice is but vaine.
12201178Lucius. Speake gentle
sister, who hath martred thee.
12211179Marcus. Oh that delightfull engine of her thoughts,
12221180That blabd them with
such plea
sing eloquence,
Is