ACT III
SCENE II.
3.2.1
A room in Titus's house. A banquet set out.
The past week events have left the Adrian with heavy hearts despite the earlier hue on the victory. They have seen
their esteemed son, Titus Adrian once more victorious, but on his return, he had lost four more sons not to the war,
but to the events that dishonored the Adrian family. First, it was Lavinia refusal to marry the leader, and then death
of Matthew. It was followed on when the sons of Titus murdered the step brother of the leader. It was repaid when
Lavinia was raped and mutilated. Since then the other Adrian’s ostracized Titus family. The mansion of Titus
Adrian then was devoid of the grand lavish spreads with the servants speaking of leaving for better homes.
“So, so; now sit: and look you eat no more.” Titus seated at the start of his long dinner table that once held his whole
family of twenty over sons and his wives. That evening, beside him was only Micheal, Lavinia, and his other
grandson Junior was seated there. Lavinia was spoon fed by a servant for she was without her hands. She had
declined her food which drew the remark from the father.
“Them will preserve just so much strength in us”, Titus looked to his own plate. Since that day when he lost his right
hand, he had learned to use his left hand.
“As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. Micheal, unkno that sorrow-wreathen knot: Thy niece and I, poor
creatures, want our hands, and cannot passionate our tenfold grief with folded arms.”
“This poor right hand of mine”, Titus looked to his missing right hand. “Is left to tyrannize upon my breast.”
Titus lament on the loss of his hand to the trickery of Aaron.
“Who, when my heart, all mad with misery, beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, then thus I thump it down.”
Titus used his right arm stump to thump his own chest.
“Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!” Titus looked to his daughter. “When thy poor heart beats with
outrageous beating, thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.”
The voice of the heart may not sound in voice, but with the movement of the hands, it could prevail with signs.
“Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; Or get some little knife between thy teeth, and just against thy heart
make thou a hole; That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall may run into that sink, and soaking in drown the
lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.” Titus told her in words that its best violence to end or fight her misery.
“Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay such violent hands upon her tender life.” Micheal protested.
“How now!” Titus raised his voice. “Has sorrow made thee dote already? Why, Micheal, no man should be mad but
I.”
“What violent hands can she lay on her life?” Titus raised his own severed arm. “Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the
name of hands; To bid AEneas tell the tale twice o'er, how Troy was burnt and he made miserable? O, handle not the
theme, to talk of hands, lest we remember still that we have none.”
“Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk”, Titus looked to the empty chairs and then at his left hand which he used to
hold the fork. “As if we should forget we had no hands, if Micheal did not name the word of hands! Come, let's fall
to; and, gentle girl, eat this.”
“Here is no drink!” Titus used his left hand to hold the goblet and looked to his silent daughter. “Hark, Micheal,
what she says; I can interpret all her martyr'd signs; she says she drinks no other drink but tears, brew'd with her
sorrow, mesh'd upon her cheeks: speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought; In thy dumb action will I be as
perfect.”
“As begging hermits in their holy prayers”, Titus raised his goblet. “Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to
heaven, nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, but I of these will wrest an alphabet and by still practise learn
to know thy meaning.”
“Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments”. The youngest Adrian asked of his grandfather. “Make my aunt
merry with some pleasing tale.”
Titus looked to his young child. He was unaffected by the war for he was too young to commit like the others.
“Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved, Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.” Micheal supported the young
Adrian. ““Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears, and tears will quickly melt thy life away.”
Micheal struck the plate which was served his food. He used his dinner knife to mark the plate. The sound of the
screeching sound when the knife created a line across the fine plate.
“What dost thou strike at, Micheal, with thy knife?” Titus asked of his brother.
“At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.” Micheal replied; his sarcasm rang on most of his words.
“Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill'st my heart; Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny: A deed of death done on
the innocent becomes not Titus' brother: get thee gone: I see thou art not for my company.” Titus dismissed his
brother from his dinner table.
“Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.” Micheal protested on the order.
“But how, if that fly had a father and mother?” Titus defended the death of the insect. “How would he hang his
slender gilded wings, and buzz lamenting doings in the air! Poor harmless fly, that, with his pretty buzzing melody
came here to make us merry! and thou hast kill'd him.”
“Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favor'd fly, like to the Queen' Goths therefore I kill'd him.” Micheal liken the fly
to the Queen. He detest her for she was once his defeated but then had become his Queen.
“O, O, O, then pardon me for reprehending thee, for thou hast done a charitable deed.” Titus corrected himself.
“Give me thy knife, I will insult on him; Flattering myself, as if it were the Goths that come hither purposely to
poison me.-- There's for thyself, and that's for Tamara.”
“Ah, sirrah!” Titus sat back on his seat, and sighed. “Yet, I think, we are not brought so low, but that between us we
can kill a fly that comes in likeness of a coal-black Goths.”
“Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him, he takes false shadows for true substances.” Micheal sighed.
“Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me.” Titus stood up to signal the end of the dinner. “I'll to thy closet; and go
read with thee sad stories chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young, and thou shalt
read when mine begin to dazzle.”
