第 8 节
作者:乐乐陶陶      更新:2021-02-19 20:38      字数:9322
  they humbly at my feet Receive my tears; and seem to weep with me; And
  were they but attired in grave weeds; Rome could afford no tribunes like
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  to these。 A stone is soft as wax: tribunes more hard than stones。 A stone is
  silent   and   offendeth   not; And   tribunes   with   their   tongues   doom   men   to
  death。     'Rises'   But    wherefore     stand'st   thou    with   thy   weapon      drawn?
  LUCIUS。 To rescue my two brothers from their death; For which attempt
  the judges have pronounc'd My everlasting doom of banishment。 TITUS。
  O happy man! they have befriended thee。 Why; foolish Lucius; dost thou
  not   perceive That   Rome   is   but   a  wilderness   of  tigers? Tigers   must   prey;
  and   Rome   affords   no   prey   But   me   and   mine;   how   happy   art   thou   then
  From   these   devourers   to   be   banished!   But   who   comes   with   our   brother
  Marcus here?
  Enter MARCUS with LAVINIA
  MARCUS。   Titus;   prepare   thy   aged   eyes   to   weep;   Or   if   not   so;   thy
  noble heart to break。 I bring consuming sorrow to thine age。 TITUS。 Will
  it   consume   me?   Let   me   see   it   then。   MARCUS。   This   was   thy   daughter。
  TITUS。   Why;   Marcus;   so   she   is。   LUCIUS。 Ay   me!   this   object   kills   me。
  TITUS。 Faint…hearted boy; arise; and look upon her。 Speak; Lavinia; what
  accursed   hand   Hath   made   thee  handless in   thy  father's   sight? What   fool
  hath added   water  to   the sea;  Or brought   a  fagot   to   bright…burning Troy?
  My   grief   was   at   the   height   before   thou   cam'st;   And   now   like   Nilus   it
  disdaineth bounds。 Give me a sword; I'll chop off my hands too; For they
  have fought for Rome; and all in vain; And they have nurs'd this woe in
  feeding   life;   In   bootless   prayer   have   they   been   held   up; And   they   have
  serv'd me to effectless use。 Now all the service I require of them Is that the
  one will help to cut the other。 'Tis well; Lavinia; that thou hast no hands;
  For hands to do Rome service is but vain。 LUCIUS。 Speak; gentle sister;
  who     hath   martyr'd    thee?    MARCUS。        O;   that   delightful   engine     of  her
  thoughts   That   blabb'd   them   with   such   pleasing   eloquence   Is   torn   from
  forth that pretty hollow cage; Where like a sweet melodious bird it sung
  Sweet varied notes; enchanting every ear! LUCIUS。 O; say thou for her;
  who hath done this deed? MARCUS。 O; thus I found her straying in the
  park;   Seeking   to   hide   herself   as   doth   the   deer   That   hath   receiv'd   some
  unrecuring wound。 TITUS。 It was my dear; and he that wounded her Hath
  hurt me more than had he kill'd me dead; For now I stand as one upon a
  rock; Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Who marks the waxing tide grow
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  wave   by   wave;     Expecting   ever   when      some   envious   surge     Will   in  his
  brinish   bowels   swallow   him。   This   way   to   death   my   wretched   sons   are
  gone;   Here   stands   my   other   son;   a   banish'd   man; And   here   my   brother;
  weeping at my woes。 But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn Is
  dear Lavinia; dearer than my soul。 Had I but seen thy picture in this plight;
  It would have madded me; what shall I do Now I behold thy lively body
  so? Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears; Nor tongue to tell me who
  hath martyr'd thee; Thy husband he is dead; and for his death Thy brothers
  are condemn'd; and dead by this。 Look; Marcus! Ah; son Lucius; look on
  her! When I did name her brothers; then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks;
  as doth the honey dew Upon a gath'red lily almost withered。 MARCUS。
  Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; Perchance because
  she   knows   them   innocent。  TITUS。   If   they   did   kill   thy   husband;   then   be
  joyful; Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them。 No; no; they would
  not do so foul a deed; Witness the sorrow that their sister makes。 Gentle
  Lavinia; let me kiss thy lips; Or make some sign how I may do thee ease。
  Shall   thy   good   uncle   and   thy   brother   Lucius And   thou   and   I   sit   round
  about some fountain; Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks How
  they are stain'd; like meadows yet not dry With miry slime left on them by
  a flood? And in the fountain shall we gaze so long; Till the fresh taste be
  taken from that clearness; And made a brine…pit with our bitter tears? Or
  shall we cut away our hands like thine? Or shall we bite our tongues; and
  in dumb shows Pass the remainder of our hateful days? What shall we do?
  Let us that have our tongues Plot some device of further misery To make
  us wonder'd at in time to come。 LUCIUS。 Sweet father; cease your tears;
  for at your grief See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps。 MARCUS。
  Patience;   dear   niece。   Good   Titus;   dry   thine   eyes。   TITUS。   Ah;   Marcus;
  Marcus! Brother; well I wot Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine; For
  thou; poor man; hast drown'd it with thine own。 LUCIUS。 Ah; my Lavinia;
  I   will   wipe   thy   cheeks。   TITUS。   Mark;   Marcus;   mark!   I   understand   her
  signs。 Had she a tongue to speak; now would she say That to her brother
  which I said to thee: His napkin; with his true tears all bewet; Can do no
  service on her sorrowful cheeks。 O; what a sympathy of woe is this As far
  from help as Limbo is from bliss!
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  Enter AARON the Moor
  AARON。   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。 TITUS。 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?   LUCIUS。   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。   MARCUS。   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。 AARON。
  Nay; come; agree whose hand shall go along; For fear they die before their
  pardon come。 MARCUS。 My hand shall go。 LUCIUS。 By heaven; it shall
  not go! TITUS。 Sirs; strive no more; such with'red herbs as these Are meet
  for plucking up; and therefore mine。 LUCIUS。 Sweet father; if I shall be
  thought thy son; Let me redeem my brothers both from death。 MARCUS。
  And for our father's sake and mother's care; Now let me show a brother's
  love to thee。 TITUS。 Agree between you; I will spare my hand。 LUCIUS。
  Then   I'll   go   fetch   an   axe。   MARCUS。   But   I   will   use   the   axe。   Exeunt
  LUCIUS   and   MARCUS   TITUS。   Come   hither;   Aaron;   I'll   deceive   them
  both; Lend me thy hand; and I will give thee mine。 AARON。 'Aside' If
  that be call'd deceit; I will be honest; And never whilst I live deceive men
  so; But I'll deceive you in another sort; And that you'll say ere half an hour
  pass。 'He cuts off TITUS' hand'
  Re…enter LUCIUS and MARCUS
  TITUS。   Now      stay   your   strife。  What   shall   be  is  dispatch'd。   Good
  Aaron; give his Majesty my hand; Tell him it was a hand that warded him
  From thousand dangers; bid him bury it。 More hath it merited… that let it
  have。 As for my sons; say I account of them As jewels purchas'd at an easy
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  price;   And   yet   dear   too;   because   I   bought   mine   own。   AARON。   I       go;
  Andronicus; and for thy hand Look by and by to have thy sons with thee。
  'Aside' Their heads I mean。 O; how this villainy Doth fat me with the very
  thoughts of it! Let fools do good; and fair men call for grace: Aaron will
  have his soul black like his face。 Exit TITUS。 O; here I lift this one hand
  up to heaven; And bow this feeble ruin to the earth; If any power  pities
  wretche