[Exit.]
MARTIUS.
Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole?
QUINTUS.
I am surprised with an uncouth fear;
A chilling sweat o’er-runs my trembling joints.
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
MARTIUS.
To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
Aaron and thou look down into this den,
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
QUINTUS.
Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise.
O, tell me who it is; for ne’er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
MARTIUS.
Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood,
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
QUINTUS.
If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
MARTIUS.
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the ragged entrails of the pit.
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
O brother, help me with thy fainting hand,
If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath,
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
QUINTUS.
Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave.
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
MARTIUS.
Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.