Reading Titus Andronicus — William Shakespeare

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Section 459

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An.

So, so, now sit, and looke you eate no more

Then will preserue iust so much strength in vs

As will reuenge these bitter woes of ours.

Marcus vnknit that sorrow‑wreathen

knot:

Thy Neece and I (poore Creatures) want our hands

And cannot passionate our tenfold griefe,

With foulded Armes. This poore right hand of mine,

Is left to tirranize vppon my breast.

Who when my hart all mad with misery,

Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,

Then thus I thumpe it downe.

Thou Map of woe, that thus dost talk in signes,

When thy poore hart beates without ragious beating,

Thou canst not strike it thus to make it

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