Page 2115 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 2115
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge;
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son. [120]
T IT US
Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom your Goths beheld
Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
To this your son is marked, and die be must,
T’appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
LUCIUS
Away with him, and make a fire straight,
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
Exit Titus’ sons, with Alarbus.
T AMORA
O cruel, irreligious piety! [130]
CHIRON
Was never Scythia half so barbarous.
DEMET RIUS
Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
Alarbus goes to rest, and we survive
To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning look.
Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
The self-same gods that armed the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the Queen of Goths,
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen) [140]
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Enter the sons of Andronicus again.
