Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mart. A precious Ring, that lightens all the Hole:
Mart. Which like a Taper in some Monument,
Mart. Doth shine vpon the dead mans earthly cheekes,
Mart. And shewes the ragged intrailes of the pit:
Mart. So pale did shine the Moone on Piramus,
Mart. When he by night lay bath'd in Maiden blood:
Mart. O Brother helpe me with thy fainting hand.
Mart. If feare hath made thee faint, as mee it hath,
Mart. Out of this fell deuouring receptacle,
Mart. As hatefull as Ocitus mistie mouth.
Quint. Quint.
Quint. Reach me thy hand, that I may helpe thee out,
Quint. ‑
Quint. Or
Quint. The Lamentable Tragedie of Titus Andronicus.
Quint. Or wanting strength to doe thee so much good,
Quint. I may be pluckt into the swallowing wombe,
Quint. Of this deepe pit, poore Bassianus graue:
Quint. I haue no strength to plucke thee to the brinke.
Martius. Martius.