Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. [Exeunt Senators, Tribunes, &c. with the prisoners. "O earth! I will befriend thee more with rain, "That shall distil from these two ancient urns, 66 Than youthful April shall with all his showers. In summer's drought, I'll drop upon thee still; In winter, with warm tears I'll melt the snow, "And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn. O, reverend tribunes! gentle-aged-men! Lucius. O, noble father, you lament in vain : Lucius. My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. Tit. Why, 'tis no matter, man: or if they did mark, They would not pity me; yet plead I must, All bootless unto them. Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; Who, though they cannot answer my distress. Yet in some sort they 're better than the tribunes, When I do weep, they humbly at my feet A stone is soft as wax'; tribunes more hard thar stones : A stone is silent, and offendeth not; And tribunes with their tongues doom meu to death. But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? Lucius. To rescue my two brothers from their death: For which attempt, the judges have pronounced Tit. O happy man! they have befriended thee. But who comes with our brother Marcus here? Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA. Mar. Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; Tit. Will it consume me? let me see it then. Mar. This was thy daughter. Tit. Why, Marcus, so she is. Lucius. Ah me! this object kills me! Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon Speak, my Lavinia, what accursed hand her. Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? Mar. O, that delightful engine of her thoughts, Lucius. O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? Mar. O, thus I found her, straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself; as doth the deer, That hath received some unrecuring wound. Tit. It was my deer; and he, that wounded her, Hath hurt me more, than had he kill'd me dead: For now I stand as one upon a rock, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears; 66 When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey dew Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. Mar. Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd her husband; Perchance, because she knows them innocent. Or make some sign how I may do thee ease. What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, To make us wonder'd at in time to come. Lucius. 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,1 Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. Lucius. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. Tit. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say I Know. |