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thou sent’st the emperor.
    Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
    Sets down the heads and hand
    And here’s thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back:
    Thy griefs their sports 239 , thy resolution mocked,
    That 240 woe is me to think upon thy woes
    More than remembrance of my father’s death.
    Exit
    MARCUS     Now let hot Aetna 242 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 some deal, 245
    But sorrow flouted 246 at is double death.
    LUCIUS     Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,
    And yet detested life not shrink 248 thereat!
    That ever death should let life bear his name, 249
    Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
    Lavinia kisses the heads
    MARCUS     Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
    As frozen water to a starvèd 252 snake.
    TITUS     When will this fearful slumber have an end?
    MARCUS     Now farewell flattery 254 , die Andronicus:
    Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
    Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
    Thy other banished son with this dear 257 sight
    Struck pale and bloodless, and thy brother, I,
    Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
    Ah, now no more will I control 260 thy griefs:
    Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand
    Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
    The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
    Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
    TITUS     Ha, ha, ha!
    MARCUS     Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
    TITUS     Why? I have not another tear to shed:
    Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
    And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
    And make them blind with tributary 270 tears.
    Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?
    For these two heads do seem to speak to me
    And threat 273 me I shall never come to bliss
    Till all these mischiefs 274 be returned again
    Even in their throats that have committed them.
    Come, let me see what task I have to do.
    You heavy 277 people, circle me about,
    That I may turn me to each one of you
    And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
    They make a vow
    The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
    And in this hand the other I will bear.
    And Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things:
    Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
    As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight:
    Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
    Hie to the Goths and raise an army there,
    And if you love me, as I think you do,
    Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do.
    Exeunt. Lucius remains
    LUCIUS     Farewell Andronicus, my noble father,
    The woefull’st man that ever lived in Rome.
    Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again.
    He loves his pledges 292 dearer than his life.
    Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister,
    O, would thou wert as thou tofore 294 hast been!
    But now nor 295 Lucius nor Lavinia lives
    But 296 in oblivion and hateful griefs.
    If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs
    And make proud Saturnine and his empress
    Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen. 299
    Now will I to the Goths and raise a power, 300
    To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.
    Exit Lucius
[Act 3 Scene 2]
    running scene 5
    A banquet
    Enter
[
Titus
]
Andronicus, Marcus, Lavinia and the Boy
[
Young Lucius
]
    TITUS     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.
    Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot: 4
    Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want 5 our hands
    And cannot passionate 6 our tenfold grief
    With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
    Is left to tyrannize 8 upon my breast,
    Who 9 , when my heart, all mad with misery,
    Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
    Then thus I thump it down.—
    To Lavinia
    Thou map 12 of woe, that thus dost talk in signs,
    When thy poor heart beats with outrageous 13 beating,
    Thou canst not strike it thus to make it