第 9 节
作者:
乐乐陶陶 更新:2021-02-19 20:38 字数:9321
up to heaven; And bow this feeble ruin to the earth; If any power pities
wretched tears; To that I call! 'To LAVINIA' What; would'st thou kneel
with me? Do; then; dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; Or with
our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim And stain the sun with fog; as
sometime clouds When they do hug him in their melting bosoms。
MARCUS。 O brother; speak with possibility; And do not break into these
deep extremes。 TITUS。 Is not my sorrow deep; having no bottom? Then be
my passions bottomless with them。 MARCUS。 But yet let reason govern
thy lament。 TITUS。 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; Threat'ning the
welkin with his big…swol'n face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
I am the sea; hark how her sighs 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。
Enter a MESSENGER; with two heads and a hand MESSENGER。
Worthy Andronicus; ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent'st the
Emperor。 Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; And here's thy hand; in
scorn to thee sent back… Thy grief their sports; thy resolution mock'd; That
woe is me to think upon thy woes; More than remembrance of my father's
death。 Exit MARCUS。 Now let hot Aetna 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; But sorrow flouted at is double
death。 LUCIUS。 Ah; that this sight should make so deep a wound; And yet
detested life not shrink thereat! That ever death should let life bear his
name; Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! 'LAVINIA kisses
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TITUS' MARCUS。 Alas; poor heart; that kiss is comfortless As frozen
water to a starved snake。 TITUS。 When will this fearful slumber have an
end? MARCUS。 Now farewell; flatt'ry; die; Andronicus。 Thou dost not
slumber: see thy two sons' heads; Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter
here; Thy other banish'd son with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodless;
and thy brother; I; Even like a stony image; cold and numb。 Ah! now no
more will I control thy griefs。 Rent 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 tears。 Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? For these two
heads do seem to speak to me; And threat me I shall never come to bliss
Till all these mischiefs be return'd again Even in their throats that have
committed them。 Come; let me see what task I have to do。 You heavy
people; circle me about; That I may turn me to each one of you And swear
unto my soul to right your wrongs。 The vow is made。 Come; brother; take
a head; And in this hand the other will I bear。 And; Lavinia; thou shalt be
employ'd in this; 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 ye love me; as I
think you do; Let's kiss and part; for we have much to do。 Exeunt all but
Lucius LUCIUS。 Farewell; Andronicus; my noble father; The woefull'st
man that ever liv'd in Rome。 Farewell; proud Rome; till Lucius come
again; He leaves his pledges dearer than his life。 Farewell; Lavinia; my
noble sister; O; would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! But now nor
Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs。 If Lucius live;
he will requite your wrongs And make proud Saturnine and his emperess
Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen。 Now will I to the Goths; and
raise a pow'r To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine。 Exit
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SCENE II。 Rome。 TITUS' house
A banquet。
Enter TITUS; 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; Thy niece and I; poor creatures;
want our hands; And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms。
This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyrannize upon my breast; Who;
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 of woe; that
thus dost talk in signs! When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating;
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still。 Wound it with sighing; girl;
kill it with groans; Or get some little knife between thy teeth And just
against thy heart make thou a hole; That all the tears that thy poor eyes let
fall May run into that sink and; soaking in; Drown the lamenting fool in
sea…salt tears。 MARCUS。 Fie; brother; fie! Teach her not thus to lay Such
violent hands upon her tender life。 TITUS。 How now! Has sorrow made
thee dote 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 Aeneas tell the tale twice o'er How Troy was burnt
and he made miserable? O; handle not the theme; to talk of hands; Lest we
remember still that we have none。 Fie; fie; how franticly 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 fall to; and; gentle girl; eat this: Here is no drink。
Hark; Marcus; what she says… I can interpret all her martyr'd signs; She
says she drinks no other drink but tears; Brew'd with her sorrow; mesh'd
upon her cheeks。 Speechless complainer; I will learn thy thought; In thy
dumb action will I be as perfect As begging hermits in their holy prayers。
Thou shalt not sigh; nor hold thy stumps to heaven; Nor wink; nor nod; nor
kneel; nor make a sign; But I of these will wrest an alphabet; And by still
practice learn to know thy meaning。 BOY。 Good grandsire; leave these
bitter deep laments; Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale。
MARCUS。 Alas; the tender boy; in passion mov'd; Doth weep to see his
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grandsire's heaviness。 TITUS。 Peace; tender sapling; thou art made of tears;
And tears will quickly melt thy life away。 'MARCUS strikes the dish with
a knife' What dost thou strike at; Marcus; with thy knife? MARCUS。 At
that that I have kill'd; my lord… a fly。 TITUS。 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 Titus' brother。 Get thee gone; I
see thou art not for my company。 MARCUS。 Alas; my lord; I have but
kill'd a fly。 TITUS。 'But!' How if that fly had a father and mother? How
would he hang his slender gilded wings And buzz lamenting doings in the
air! Poor harmless fly; That with his pretty buzzing melody Came here to
make us merry! And thou hast kill'd him。 MARCUS。 Pardon me; sir; it
was a black ill…favour'd fly; Like to the Empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd
him。 TITUS。 O; O; O! Then pardon me for reprehending thee; For thou
hast done a charitable deed。 Give me thy knife; I will insult on him;
Flattering myself as if it were the Moor Come hither purposely to poison
me。 There's for thyself; and that's for Tamora。 Ah; sirrah! Yet; I think; we