12981251Or any one of you, chop off 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 raunsome 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 vprise?

13051258With all my hart, Ile send the Emperour my hand,

13061259Good Aron wilt thou helpe to chop it off?

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 destruction on the enemies Castle?

13151268Oh none of both, but are of high desert:

13161269My hand hath beene but idle, let it serue

13171270To raunsome my two Nephews from their death,

13181271Then haue I kept it to a worthie ende.

13191272Moore. Nay come agree whose hand shall goe along,

13201273For feare they die before their pardon come.

13211274Marcus. My hand shall goe.

13221275Lucius. By heauen it shall not goe.

13231276Titus. Sirs striue no more, such withred hearbs as these

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 vse the Axe. Exeunt.

13321285Titus. Come hither Aron, Ile deceiue them both,