Page 2146 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 2146
Was I a child to fear I know not what. Falls in.
MART IUS
Lord Bassianus lies bereav’d in blood,
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINT US
If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
MART IUS
Upon his bloody finger be doth wear
A precious ring, that lightens all this hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit: [230]
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus,
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand -
If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath -
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
QUINT US
Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave. [240]
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
MART IUS
Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
QUINT US
Thy hand once more; I will not loose again,
Till thou art here aloft or I below:
Thou canst not come to me, I come to thee.
Enter the Emperor and Aaron the Moor.
