TAMORA.
Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys,
Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong.
DEMETRIUS.
Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her.
First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.
This minion stood upon her chastity,
Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
And with that painted hope braves your mightiness;
And shall she carry this unto her grave?
CHIRON.
And if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
TAMORA.
But when ye have the honey ye desire,
Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
CHIRON.
I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
LAVINIA.
O Tamora, thou bearest a woman’s face,—
TAMORA.
I will not hear her speak; away with her!
LAVINIA.
Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
DEMETRIUS.
Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory
To see her tears; but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
LAVINIA.
When did the tiger’s young ones teach the dam?
O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee;
The milk thou suck’st from her did turn to marble;
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike.
[To Chiron.] Do thou entreat her show a woman’s pity.