Titus Andronicus

Saturninus
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Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms.
Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach.
‘Tis he the common people love so much.
Myself hath often heard them say,
When I have walkèd like a private man,
That Lucius’

Tamora
Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
Saturninus
Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius
And will revolt from me to succor him.
Tamora
King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name.
Is the sun dimmed that gnats do fly in it?
The eagle suffers little birds to sing
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
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Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound.—
Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me,
But let them hear what fearful wordsTransferred Epithet I utter.—
O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!
Here stands the spring whom you have stained with mud,
This goodly summer with your winter mixed.Metaphors

Here stands the spring whom you have stained with mud,
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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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