Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mar. But yet let reason gouerne thy lament.
Titus. Titus.
Titus. If there were reason for these miseries,
Titus. Then into limits could I binde my woes:
Titus. When heauen doth weepe, doth not the earth oreflow?
Titus. If the windes rage, doth not the Sea wax mad,
Titus. Threatning the welkin with his big‑swolne face?
Titus. And wilt thou haue a reason for this coile?
Titus. I am the Sea. Harke how her sighes doe flow:
Titus. Shee is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Titus. Then must my Sea be moued with her sighes,
Titus. Then must my earth with her continuall teares,
Titus. Become a deluge: ouerflow'd and drown'd:
Titus. For why, my bowels cannot hide her woes,
Titus. But like a drunkard must I vomit them:
Titus. Then giue me leaue, for loosers will haue leaue,
Titus. To ease their stomackes with their bitter tongues,
Titus. Enter a messenger with two heads and a hand.
Mess. Mess.
Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid,