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＇She giveth SATURNINE a letter＇ SATURNINUS。 ＇Reads＇ 'An if we miss
to meet him handsomely； Sweet huntsman… Bassianus 'tis we mean… Do
thou so much as dig the grave for him。 Thou know'st our meaning。 Look
for thy reward Among the nettles at the elder…tree Which overshades the
mouth of that same pit Where we decreed to bury Bassianus。 Do this； and
purchase us thy lasting friends。' O Tamora！ was ever heard the like？ This
is the pit and this the elder…tree。 Look； sirs； if you can find the huntsman
out That should have murdered Bassianus here。 AARON。 My gracious
lord； here is the bag of gold。 SATURNINUS。 ＇To TITUS＇ Two of thy
whelps； fell curs of bloody kind； Have here bereft my brother of his life。
Sirs； drag them from the pit unto the prison； There let them bide until we
have devis'd Some never…heard…of torturing pain for them。 TAMORA。
What； are they in this pit？ O wondrous thing！ How easily murder is
discovered！ TITUS。 High Emperor； upon my feeble knee I beg this boon；
with tears not lightly shed； That this fell fault of my accursed sons…
Accursed if the fault be prov'd in them… SATURNINUS。 If it be prov'd！
You see it is apparent。 Who found this letter？ Tamora； was it you？
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TAMORA。 Andronicus himself did take it up。 TITUS。 I did； my lord； yet
let me be their bail； For； by my fathers' reverend tomb； I vow They shall
be ready at your Highness' will To answer their suspicion with their lives。
SATURNINUS。 Thou shalt not bail them； see thou follow me。 Some bring
the murdered body； some the murderers； Let them not speak a word… the
guilt is plain； For； by my soul； were there worse end than death； That end
upon them should be executed。 TAMORA。 Andronicus； I will entreat the
King。 Fear not thy sons； they shall do well enough。 TITUS。 Come； Lucius；
come； stay not to talk with them。 Exeunt
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SCENE IV。 Another part of the forest
Enter the Empress' sons； DEMETRIUS and CHIRON； with LAVINIA；
her hands cut off； and her tongue cut out； and ravish'd
DEMETRIUS。 So； now go tell； an if thy tongue can speak； Who 'twas
that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee。 CHIRON。 Write down thy mind；
bewray thy meaning so； An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe。
DEMETRIUS。 See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl。 CHIRON。
Go home； call for sweet water； wash thy hands。 DEMETRIUS。 She hath
no tongue to call； nor hands to wash； And so let's leave her to her silent
walks。 CHIRON。 An 'twere my cause； I should go hang myself。
DEMETRIUS。 If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord。 Exeunt
DEMETRIUS and CHIRON
Wind horns。 Enter MARCUS； from hunting
MARCUS。 Who is this？… my niece； that flies away so fast？ Cousin； a
word： where is your husband？ If I do dream； would all my wealth would
wake me！ If I do wake； some planet strike me down； That I may slumber
an eternal sleep！ Speak； gentle niece。 What stern ungentle hands Hath
lopp'd； and hew'd； and made thy body bare Of her two branches… those
sweet ornaments Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in；
And might not gain so great a happiness As half thy love？ Why dost not
speak to me？ Alas； a crimson river of warm blood； Like to a bubbling
fountain stirr'd with wind； Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips；
Coming and going with thy honey breath。 But sure some Tereus hath
deflowered thee； And； lest thou shouldst detect him； cut thy tongue。 Ah；
now thou turn'st away thy face for shame！ And notwithstanding all this
loss of blood… As from a conduit with three issuing spouts… Yet do thy
cheeks look red as Titan's face Blushing to be encount'red with a cloud。
Shall I speak for thee？ Shall I say 'tis so？ O； that I knew thy heart； and
knew the beast； That I might rail at him to ease my mind！ Sorrow
concealed； like an oven stopp'd； Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is。
Fair Philomel； why she but lost her tongue； And in a tedious sampler sew'd
her mind； But； lovely niece； that mean is cut from thee。 A craftier Tereus；
cousin； hast thou met； And he hath cut those pretty fingers off That could
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have better sew'd than Philomel。 O； had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute And make the silken strings delight
to kiss them； He would not then have touch'd them for his life！ Or had he
heard the heavenly harmony Which that sweet 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； For such a sight
will blind a father's eye； One hour's storm 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； O； could our mourning case thy misery！ Exeunt
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ACT III。
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SCENE I。 Rome。 A street
Enter the JUDGES； TRIBUNES； and SENATORS； with TITUS' two
sons MARTIUS and QUINTUS bound； passing on the stage to the place
of execution； and TITUS going before； pleading
TITUS。 Hear me； grave fathers； noble Tribunes； stay！ For pity of
mine age； whose youth was spent In dangerous wars whilst you securely
slept； For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed； For all the frosty
nights that I have watch'd； And for these bitter tears； which now you see
Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks； Be pitiful to my condemned sons；
Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought。 For two and twenty sons I
never wept； Because they died in honour's lofty bed。 ＇ANDRONICUS
lieth down； and the judges pass by him with the prisoners； and exeunt＇ For
these； Tribunes； in the dust I write My heart's deep languor and my soul's
sad tears。 Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite； My sons' sweet
blood will make it shame and blush。 O earth； I will befriend thee more
with rain That shall distil from these two ancient urns； Than youthful April
shall with all his show'rs。 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 weapon drawn
O reverend Tribunes！ O gentle aged men！ Unbind my sons； reverse
the doom of death； And let me say； that never wept before； My tears are
now prevailing orators。 LUCIUS。 O noble father； you lament in vain； The
Tribunes hear you not； no man is by； And you recount your sorrows to a
stone。 TITUS。 Ah； Lucius； for thy brothers let me plead！ Grave Tribunes；
once more I entreat of you。 LUCIUS。 My gracious lord； no tribune hears
you speak。 TITUS。 Why； 'tis no matter； man： if they did hear； They would
not mark me； if they did mark； They would not pity me； yet plead I must；
And bootless unto them。 Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones； Who
though they cannot answer my distress； Yet in some sort they are 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 seem to weep with me； And
were they but attired in grave weeds； Rome could affor