Page:Titus Andronicus (1926) Yale.djvu/47

Titus Andronicus, II. iii  Tam. Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure.

Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed

Till all the Andronici be made away.

Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,

And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.

Aar. Come on, my lords, the better foot before:

Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit

Where I espied the panther fast asleep.

Quin. My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.

Mart. And mine, I promise you: were't not for shame,

Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.

[Falls into the pit.]

Quin. What! art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this,

Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers,

Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood

As fresh as morning's dew distill'd on flowers?

A very fatal place it seems to me.

Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?

Mart. O brother! with the dismal'st object hurt

That ever eye with sight made heart lament.

Aar. [Aside.] Now will I fetch the king to find them here,

That he thereby may give a likely guess

How these were they that made away his brother.

Exit Aaron.

Mart. Why dost not comfort me, and help me out

From this unhallow'd and blood-stained hole?

 191 spleenful: hot, eager

trull: loose woman

