Sat. Thou shalt not bail them. See, thou follow me. Some bring the murder'd body, fome the murderers. Let them not speak a word, the guilt is plain; For, by my foul, were there worse end than death, That end upon them should be executed.

Tam. Andronicus, I will entreat the king;

Fear not thy fons, they fhall do well enough. Tit. Come, Lucius, come; ftay not to talk with [Exeunt feverally.

them.

SCENE V.

Enter Demetrius and Chiron, with Lavinia, ravish'd; ber bands cut off, and her tongue cut out.

Dem. So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, Who 'twas that cut thy tongue, and ravifh'd thee.

Chi. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning fo; And, if thy ftumps will let thee, play the fcribe. Dem. See how with figns and tokens fhe can fcrawl. Chi. Go home, call for fweet water, wafh thy hands, Dem. She has no tongue to call, or hands to wash; And fo let's leave her to her filent walks:

Chi. If 'twere my cafe, I fhould go hang myself. Dem. If thou hadft hands to help thee knit the cord. [Exeunt Demetrius and Chiron.

Enter Marcus to Lavinia.

Mar. Who's this, my niece, that flies away fo fast? Coufin, a word, where is your husband?

" If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me! If I do wake, fome planet ftrike me down, That I may lumber in eternal fleep!

5 If I do dream, 'would all my wealth would wake me!] If this be a dream, I would give all my poffeffions to be delivered from it by waking.

JOHNSON.

Speak,

Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, thofe fweet ornaments,
Whofe circling fhadows kings have fought to fleep in;
And might not gain fo great a happiness,
As half thy love! why doft not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
Doth rife and fall between thy rofy lips,
Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But fure fome Tereus hath deflow'red thee;
And, left thou should'st detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'ft away thy face for fhame!
And, notwithstanding all this lofs of blood,
As from a conduit with their iffuing spouts,
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee? fhall I fay, 'tis fo?
O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to eafe my mind!
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, fhe but loft her tongue,
And in a tedious fampler fewed her mind.
But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus haft thou met withal,
And he hath cut thofe pretty fingers off,
That better could have few'd than Philomel.
Oh, had the monster feen thofe lilly hands
Tremble, like afpen leaves, upon a lute,
And make the filken ftrings delight to kifs them;
He would not then have touch'd them for his life,
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony,

Which that fweet tongue hath made;

He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep,
As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;

Ff4

For

For fuch a fight will blind a father's eye.

One hour's ftorm will drown the fragrant meads, What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee: Oh, could our mourning eafe thy mifery! [Exeunt

ACT III.

SCENE 1.

A freet in Rome.

Enter the Judges and Senators, with Marcus and Quintus bound, paffing on the stage to the place of execution, and Titus going before, pleading.

TITUS.

TEAR me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, ftay,

H For pity of mine age, whofe youth was spent

In dangerous wars, whilft you fecurely flept;
For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel fhed,
For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd,
And for thefe bitter tears, which you now fee
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks,
Be pitiful to my condemned fons,

Whofe fouls are not corrupted as 'tis thought,
For two and twenty fons I never wept,
Because they died in honour's lofty bed.

[Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by kim.
For thefe, thefe, tribunes, in the dust I write
My heart's deep languor, and my foul's fad tears;
Let my tears ftanch the earth's dry appetite,
My fons' fweet blood will make it fhame and blufh.
O earth! I will befriend thee with more rain.

[Exeunt. That

6

i

That shall diftil from these two ancient urns,
Than youthful April fhall with all his showers
In fummer's drought I'll drop upon thee still;
In winter, with warm tears I'll melt the fnow;
And keep eternal fpring-time on thy face,
So thou refufe to drink my dear fons' blood.

Enter Lucius, with his fword drawn.
Oh, reverend tribunes! gentle aged men!
Unbind my fons, reverse the doom of death,
And let me fay, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators.

Luc. Oh, noble father, you lament in vain,
The tribunes hear you not, no man is by,
And you recount your forrows to a stone.

Tit. Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.Grave tribunes, once more I intreat of you

Luc. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you fpeak. Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man; if they did hear, They would not mark me; or, if they did mark, They would not pity me.

Therefore I tell my forrows to the stones,

Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in fome fort they're better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale;
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet,
Receive my tears, and feem to weep with me;
And were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.

A ftone is foft as wax, tribunes more hard than stones:
A ftone is filent, and offendeth not,

And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. But wherefore ftand'ft thou with thy weapon drawn? Luc. To refcue my two brothers from their death; For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd

—two ancient urns,] Oxford editor.-Vulg. two ancient ruins.

JOHNSON.

My

My everlasting doom of banishment.

Tit. O happy man, they have befriended thee:
Why, foolish Lucius, doft thou not perceive,
That Rome is but a wilderness of tygers;
Tygers muft prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine; how happy art thou then,
From these devourers to be banished?.
But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
Enter Marcus and Lavinia.

Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes. to weep,
Or, if not fo, thy noble heart to break;
I bring confuming forrow to thine age.

Tit. Will it confume me? let me fee it then,
Mar. This was thy daughter...

Tit. Why, Marcus, fo the is.

Luc. Ah me! this object kills me..

Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her: Speak, my Lavinia; what accurfed hand

Hath made thee handless, in thy father's fight?
What fool hath added water to the fea?

Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height before thou cam'ft,
And now, like Nilus, it difdaineth bounds.
Give me a fword, I'll chop off my hands too,*
For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain,
And they have nurs'd this woe, in feeding life,
In bootle's prayer have they been held up,
And they have ferv'd me to effectless use;
Now all the fervice I require of them,
Is that the one will help to cut the other.
'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou haft no hands,

7-in thy father's fight?] We fhould read pight. WARB. -I'il chop off my hands too,] Perhaps we fhould read,

or chop off, &c.

It is not eafy to difcover how Titus, when he had chopp'd off one of his hands, would have been able to have chopp'd off the other.

STEEVENS.

For