Marcus Andronicus

Marcus Andronicus 
O, thus I found her straying in the park,
Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
That hath received some unrecuring wound.
Titus Andronicus 
It was my dear, and he that wounded her
Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead.
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
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Marcus Andronicus
O brother, speak with possibility,
And do not break into these deep extremes.
Titus Andronicus
Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
Marcus Andronicus
But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Titus Andronicus
If there were reason for these miseries,
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Titus Andronicus 
When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Marcus Andronicus
Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus.
Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image cold and numb.
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Titus Andronicus 
Peace, tender sapling. Thou art made of tears,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy  knife?
Marcus Andronicus
At that that I have killed, my lord, a fly.
Titus Andronicus 
Out on thee,
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You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
By uproars severed as a flight of fowl
Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body,
Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to,
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