:11:00
the mother's tears
in passion for her son.
:11:03
No!
:11:05
If thy sons were ever dear to thee,
:11:08
oh, think my son to be
as dear to me.
:11:10
Sufficeth not that
we are brought to Rome
:11:14
to beautify your triumphs and return,
:11:17
captive to thee and thy Roman yoke?
:11:19
But must my sons be slaughtered
in the streets
:11:25
for valiant doings
in their country's cause?
:11:28
Oh, if to fight for king and commonweal
were piety in thine,
:11:32
it is in these.
:11:35
Andronicus...
:11:36
stain not thy tomb with blood.
:11:40
Wilt thou draw near
the nature of the gods?
:11:44
Draw near them then
in being merciful.
:11:47
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
:11:52
Thrice noble Titus...
:11:58
spare my born-born son.
:12:01
Patient yourself,
madam, and pardon me.
:12:04
These are their brethren,
whom your Goths beheld
:12:07
alive and dead,
:12:09
and for their brethren slain,
:12:11
religiously they ask a sacrifice.
:12:14
To this your son is marked...
:12:18
and die he must
to appease their groaning shadows
:12:20
that are gone.
:12:22
Away with him
and make a fire straight.
:12:25
And with our swords,
upon a pile of wood
:12:27
let's hew his limbs
till they be clean consumed.
:12:31
O cruel, irreligious piety!
:12:38
Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
:12:40
Oppose not Scythia
to ambitious Rome.
:12:43
Alarbus goes to rest,
:12:45
and we survive to tremble
under Titus' threatening looks.
:12:52
Stand resolved...
:12:54
but hope withal
the gods may favor Tamora,
:12:57
the queen of Goths,
:12:59
to quit these bloody wrongs
upon her foes.