The most Lamentable Tragedie
12981251Or any one of you, chop o
ff your hand
12991252And
send it to the King, he for the
same,
13001253will
send thee hither both thy
sonnes aliue,
13011254And that
shall be the raun
some for their fault.
13021255Titus. Oh gratious Emperour, Oh gentle
Aron,
13031256Did euer Rauen
sing
so like a Larke,
13041257That giues
sweete tidings of the Sunnes vpri
se?
13051258With all my hart, Ile
send the Emperour my hand,
13061259Good
Aron wilt thou helpe to chop it o
ff?
13071260Lucius. Stay father, for that Noble hand of thine,
13081261That hath throwne downe
so many enemies,
13091262Shall not be
sent: my hand will
serue the turne,
13101263My youth can better
spare my bloud than you,
13111264And therefore mine
shall
saue my brothers liues.
13121265Marcus. which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
13131266And reard aloft the bloudie Battleaxe,
13141267wrighting de
stru
ction on the enemies Ca
stle?
13151268Oh none of both, but are of high de
sert:
13161269My hand hath beene but idle, let it
serue
13171270To raun
some my two Nephews from their death,
13181271Then haue I kept it to a worthie ende.
13191272Moore. Nay come agree who
se hand
shall goe along,
13201273For feare they die before their pardon come.
13221275Lucius. By heauen it
shall not goe.
13231276Titus. Sirs
striue no more,
such withred hearbs as the
se
13241277Are meete for plucking vp, and therefore mine.
13251278Lucius. Sweete father, if I
shall be thought thy
sonne,
13261279Let me redeeme my brothers both from death.
13271280Marcus. And for our fathers
sake, and mothers care,
13281281Now let me
show a brothers loue to thee.
13291282Titus. Agree betweene you, I will
spare my hand.
13301283Lucius. Then Ile goe fetch an Axe.
13311284Marcus. But I will v
se the Axe.
Exeunt. 13321285Titus. Come hither
Aron, Ile deceiue them both,
Lend