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Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Tit. If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes. When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threatning the welkin with his big-fwoln face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil ? I am the fea; hark, how her fighs do blow! She is the weeping welkin, I the earth : Then must my sea be moved with her sighs, Then must my earth with her continual tears Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes But, like a drunkard, must I vomit them. Then give me leave, for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Erter e Mafenger, bringing in two beads and a band.
Itel. Worthy Andronicus, ill art chou repay'd For that good hand, thou sent'st the emperor ; Here are the heads of thy two noble fons, And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back. Thy grief's their sport, thy resolution mock'd; That woe is me to think upon thy woes, More than remembrance of my father's death. [Exit.
Mar, Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an ever-burning hell; These miseries are more than may be borne! To weep with them that weep, doth ease sume deal, But forrow fouted at is double death.
-woe-extremes. j. e. extremes caused by excesive sorrow. But Mr. Theobald, on his own authority, alters it to deep, without notice given. WARB. It is deep in the old quarto of 1611.
Luc. Ah, that this light should make so deep a
yet detested life not shrink thereat ; That evet death fhould let life bear his name, Where life hath no more interest than to breathe.
[Lavinia kifles kim. Mar. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortlefs, As frozeń water to a ftarved snake.
TII. When will this fearful flumber have an end ?
Mar. Now, farewell, flattery ! die, Andronicus ;
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!
And in this hand the other will I bear;
queen. Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power, To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine. (Exil Lucius,
SCENE II. 2
An apartment in Titus's boufc. A banquet. Enter Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and young
Lucius, a boy. Tit. So, so, now sit ; and look, you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
2 This scene, which does not contribute any thing to the action, yet seems to have the same author with the rest, is omitted in the quarto of 1611, but found in the folio of 1623, Jonssos.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot;
Mar. Fy, brother, fy, teach her not thus to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life.
Tit. How now! has forrow made thee doat already? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I; What violent hands can she lay on her life? Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands, – To bid Æneas tell the tale twice o'er, How Troy was burnt, and he inade miserable ? O, handle not the theme, no talk of hands,Left we remember still, that we have none. Fy, fy, how frantickly I square my talk, As if we should forget we had no hands, If Marcus did not name the word of hands? Come, let's fali to, and, gentle girl, eat this. Here is no drink: hark, Marcus, what she says, I can interpret all her martyi’d signs; She says, the drinks no other drink but tears, Brew'd with her forrows, melh'd upon her cheeks. Speechless complaint !-0, I will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect,
not figh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
Boy. Good grandsire, leave these bitter:deep laments; Make my aunt merry with fome pleasing tale.
Mar. Alas, the tender boy, in pallion mov'd, Doth weep to see his grandfire's heaviness.
Tit. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears. And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
[Marcus Strikes ibe disly with a knife. What doft thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife ?
Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my lord, a iy.
Tit. Out on thee, murderer; thou kill'st my heart; Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny ! A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Ticus' brother ; get thee gone, I see, thou art not for my company:
Mar. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
Tit. But how, if that fly had a father and mother?
3 by fill praitice) By conjlant or continual pra&tice.
JOHNSON. 4 And buz lamenting doings in the air.) Lamening doings is a very idle expression, and conveys no idea. I read
dolingsThe alteration which I have made, though it is but the addition of a fingle letter, is a great increase to the sense; and though, indeed, there is fomewhat of a tautology in the epithet and subftancive annexed to it, yet that's no new thing with our author.