TITUS.
’Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware;
The dam will wake, and if she wind you once.
She’s with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone;
And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by. The angry northern wind
Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad,
And where’s our lesson, then? Boy, what say you?
YOUNG LUCIUS.
I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe
For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
MARCUS.
Ay, that’s my boy! Thy father hath full oft
For his ungrateful country done the like.
YOUNG LUCIUS.
And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
TITUS.
Come, go with me into mine armoury.
Lucius, I’ll fit thee; and withal, my boy,
Shall carry from me to the empress’ sons
Presents that I intend to send them both.
Come, come; thou’lt do my message, wilt thou not?
YOUNG LUCIUS.
Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
TITUS.
No, boy, not so. I’ll teach thee another course.
Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house.
Lucius and I’ll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we’ll be waited on.
[Exeunt Titus, Lavinia and Young Lucius.]
MARCUS.
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan
And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen’s marks upon his battered shield,
But yet so just that he will not revenge.
Revenge ye heavens for old Andronicus!
[Exit.]