Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears; Mar. Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd her husband: Perchance, because she knows them innocent. Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, Plot some device of further misery, To make us wonder'd at in time to come. Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, See, how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. Mar. Patience, dear niece:-good Titus, dry thine eyes, Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot, For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. Enter AARON. Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor Sends thee this word,-That, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand, Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; Tit. O, gracious emperor! O, gentle Aaron! That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? Luc. Stay, father; for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down so many enemies, Shall not be sent; my hand will serve the turn: My youth can better spare my blood than you; And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-ax, Writing destruction on the enemy's castle 18? My hand hath been but idle; let it serve To ransom my two nephews from their death; Then have I kept it to a worthy end. Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come. Mar. My hand shall go. Luc. By heaven, it shall not go. Tit. Sirs, strive no more; such wither'd herbs as these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, Let me redeem my brothers both from death. care, Now let me show a brother's love to thee. Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand. Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe. Mar. But I will use the axe. [Exeunt Lucius and Marcus. Tit. Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both; Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. Aar. If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, And that you'll say, ere half an hour can pass. [Aside. [He cuts off Titus's hand. Enter LUCIUS and MARCUS. Tit. Now, stay your strife; what shall be, is despatch'd. Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace, Aaron will have his soul black like his face. [Exit. Tit. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: If any power pities wretched tears, To that I call:-What, wilt thou kneel with me? To Lavinia. Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand, |