Page:Titus Andronicus (1926) Yale.djvu/59

Titus Andronicus, III. i 

Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor

Sends thee this word: that, if thou love thy sons,

Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,

Or any one of you, chop off your hand,

And send it to the king: he for the same

Will send thee hither both thy sons alive;

And that shall be the ransom for their fault.

Tit. O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!

Did ever raven sing so like a lark,

That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?

With all my heart, I'll send the emperor my hand:

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Luc. Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine,

That hath thrown down so many enemies,

Shall not be sent; my hand will serve the turn:

My youth can better spare my blood than you;

And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.

Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,

And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,

Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?

O! none of both but are of high desert:

My hand hath been but idle; let it serve

To ransom my two nephews from their death;

Then have I kept it to a worthy end.

Aar. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,

For fear they die before their pardon come.

Mar. My hand shall go.

Luc. By heaven, it shall not go!

Tit. Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.

 170 the enemy's castle; cf. n.

171 both: both of you

