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TITUS ANDRONICUS
SCENE II。 Rome。 TITUS' house
A banquet。
Enter TITUS； MARCUS； LAVINIA； and the boy YOUNG LUCIUS
TITUS。 So so； now sit； and look you eat no more Than will preserve
just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours。
Marcus； 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 tyrannize upon my breast； Who；
when my heart； all mad with misery； Beats in this hollow prison of my
flesh； Then thus I thump it down。 ＇To LAVINIA＇ Thou map of woe； that
thus dost talk in signs！ 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。 MARCUS。 Fie； brother； fie！ Teach her not thus to lay Such
violent hands upon her tender life。 TITUS。 How now！ Has sorrow made
thee dote already？ 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 hands？ To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er How Troy was burnt
and he made miserable？ O； handle not the theme； to talk of hands； Lest we
remember still that we have none。 Fie； fie； how franticly I square my talk；
As if we should forget we had no hands； If Marcus did not name the word
of hands！ Come； let's fall to； and； gentle girl； eat this： Here is no drink。
Hark； Marcus； what she says… I can interpret all her martyr'd signs； She
says she drinks no other drink but tears； Brew'd with her sorrow； mesh'd
upon her cheeks。 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 heaven； 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 meaning。 BOY。 Good grandsire； leave these
bitter deep laments； Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale。
MARCUS。 Alas； the tender boy； in passion mov'd； Doth weep to see his
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grandsire's heaviness。 TITUS。 Peace； tender sapling； thou art made of tears；
And tears will quickly melt thy life away。 ＇MARCUS strikes the dish with
a knife＇ What dost thou strike at； Marcus； with thy knife？ MARCUS。 At
that that I have kill'd； my lord… a fly。 TITUS。 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。 MARCUS。 Alas； my lord； I have but
kill'd a fly。 TITUS。 'But！' How if that fly had a father and mother？ How
would he hang his slender gilded wings And buzz 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。 MARCUS。 Pardon me； sir； it
was a black ill…favour'd fly； Like to the Empress' Moor； therefore I kill'd
him。 TITUS。 O； O； O！ 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 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。 MARCUS。 Alas； poor man！ grief has so
wrought on him； He takes false shadows for true substances。 TITUS。
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 begin to dazzle。 Exeunt
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ACT IV。
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SCENE I。 Rome。 TITUS' garden
Enter YOUNG LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him； and the boy
flies from her with his books under his arm。
Enter TITUS and MARCUS
BOY。 Help； grandsire； help！ my aunt Lavinia Follows me everywhere；
I know not why。 Good uncle Marcus； see how swift she comes！ Alas；
sweet aunt； I know not what you mean。 MARCUS。 Stand by me； Lucius；
do not fear thine aunt。 TITUS。 She loves thee； boy； too well to do thee
harm。 BOY。 Ay； when my father was in Rome she did。 MARCUS。 What
means my niece Lavinia by these signs？ TITUS。 Fear her not； Lucius；
somewhat doth she mean。 See； Lucius； see how much she makes of thee。
Somewhither would she have thee go with her。 Ah； boy； Cornelia never
with more care Read to her sons than she hath read to thee Sweet poetry
and Tully's Orator。 MARCUS。 Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies
thee thus？ BOY。 My lord； I know not； I； nor can I guess； Unless some fit
or frenzy do possess her； For I have heard my grandsire say full oft
Extremity of griefs would make men mad； And I have read that Hecuba of
Troy Ran mad for sorrow。 That made me to fear； Although； my lord； I
know my noble aunt Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did； And would
not；