“To this your son is mark’d, and

your son must die.

die he must/ To appease their

to satisfy the dead

groaning shadows that are gone”

All tasks must be completed in your books

or on your blogs by Tuesday 14th January.

LUCIUS

Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,

That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile

Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,

Before this earthy prison of their bones;

That so the shadows be not unappeased,

Nor we disturb’d with prodigies on earth.

TITUS ANDRONICUS

I give him you, the noblest that survives,

The eldest son of this distressed queen.

TAMORA

Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,

Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,

A mother’s tears in passion for her son:

And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,

O, think my son to be as dear to me!

Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,

To beautify thy triumphs and return,

Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,

 

But must my sons be slaughter’d in the streets,

For valiant doings in their country’s cause?

O, if to fight for king and commonweal

Were piety in thine, it is in these.

Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?

Draw near them then in being merciful:

Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge:

Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.

TITUS ANDRONICUS

Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.

These are their brethren, whom you Goths

beheld

Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain

Religiously they ask a sacrifice:

To this your son is mark’d, and die he must,

To appease their groaning shadows that are

gone.