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Titus Andronicus Quotes
Titus Andronicus
by
William Shakespeare34,231 ratings, 3.67 average rating, 2,976 reviews
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Titus Andronicus Quotes
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“Villain, what hast thou done?
Aaron: That which thou canst not undo.
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.”
― Titus Andronicus
Aaron: That which thou canst not undo.
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.”
― Titus Andronicus
“Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
AARON. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day- and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse-
Wherein I did not some notorious ill;
As kill a man, or else devise his death;
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself;
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' door
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters
'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly;
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.”
― Titus Andronicus
AARON. Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day- and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse-
Wherein I did not some notorious ill;
As kill a man, or else devise his death;
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it;
Accuse some innocent, and forswear myself;
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' door
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters
'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly;
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.”
― Titus Andronicus
“Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.”
― Titus Andronicus
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,
For that they will not intercept my tale:
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
Rome could afford no tribune like to these.”
― Titus Andronicus
“Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day—and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse,—
Wherein I did not some notorious ill,
As kill a man, or else devise his death,
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some innocent and forswear myself,
Set deadly enmity between two friends,
Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,
Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.”
― Titus Andronicus
Even now I curse the day—and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse,—
Wherein I did not some notorious ill,
As kill a man, or else devise his death,
Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it,
Accuse some innocent and forswear myself,
Set deadly enmity between two friends,
Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,
Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;
And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
But that I cannot do ten thousand more.”
― Titus Andronicus
“O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done:
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will;
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.”
― Titus Andronicus
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done:
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will;
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.”
― Titus Andronicus
“Come and take choice of all my library and so beguile thy sorrow.”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“Coal-black is better than another hue,
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.”
― Titus Andronicus
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.”
― Titus Andronicus
“O, why should nature build so foul a den, Unless the gods delight in tragedies?”
― The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus
― The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus
“Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust. (Act V, Scene 2, 2503)”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“I'll find a day to massacre them all
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life,
And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.”
― Titus Andronicus
And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son's life,
And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.”
― Titus Andronicus
“What begg’st thou then? fond woman, let me go.
Lav: ’Tis present death I beg; and one thing more That womanhood denies my tongue to tell.
O! keep me from their worse than killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
Where never man’s eye may behold my body:
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
Tam: So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
Dem: Away! for thou hast stay’d us here too long.
Lav: No grace! no womanhood! Ah, beastly creature,
The blot and enemy to our general name.
Confusion fall—”
― Titus Andronicus
Lav: ’Tis present death I beg; and one thing more That womanhood denies my tongue to tell.
O! keep me from their worse than killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
Where never man’s eye may behold my body:
Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
Tam: So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:
No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
Dem: Away! for thou hast stay’d us here too long.
Lav: No grace! no womanhood! Ah, beastly creature,
The blot and enemy to our general name.
Confusion fall—”
― Titus Andronicus
“But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“Why makes thou it so strange? She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; She is a woman, therefore may be won; She is Lavinia , therefore must be loved.”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“the judges have pronounced
My everlasting doom of banishment.
TITUS ANDRONICUS
O happy man! they have befriended thee.
Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine: how happy art thou, then,
From these devourers to be banished!”
― Titus Andronicus
My everlasting doom of banishment.
TITUS ANDRONICUS
O happy man! they have befriended thee.
Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine: how happy art thou, then,
From these devourers to be banished!”
― Titus Andronicus
“Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive / That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
TITUS ANDRONICUS: Ha, ha, ha!
MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.
TITUS ANDRONICUS: Why, I have not another tear to shed:”
― Titus Andronicus
TITUS ANDRONICUS: Ha, ha, ha!
MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.
TITUS ANDRONICUS: Why, I have not another tear to shed:”
― Titus Andronicus
“In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!”
― Titus Andronicus
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!”
― Titus Andronicus
“Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back.
Thy grief their sports! thy resolution mock'd,
That woe is me to think upon thy woes
More than remembrance of my father’s death. [Exit.]
Marc. Now let hot Aetna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
But sorrow flouted at is double death.
Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound
And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe.
[Lavinia kisses Titus.]
Marc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
As frozen water to a starvèd snake.
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Marc. Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus.
Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs.
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand,
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!
Marc. Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed.
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
And make them blind with tributary tears.
Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
Till all these mischiefs be returned again
Even in their throats that hath committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about
That I may turn me to each one of you
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
And in this hand the other will I bear.
And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms.
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight.
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there.
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do.
Exeunt.”
― Titus Andronicus
For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back.
Thy grief their sports! thy resolution mock'd,
That woe is me to think upon thy woes
More than remembrance of my father’s death. [Exit.]
Marc. Now let hot Aetna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne.
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
But sorrow flouted at is double death.
Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound
And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe.
[Lavinia kisses Titus.]
Marc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
As frozen water to a starvèd snake.
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Marc. Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus.
Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image cold and numb.
Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs.
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand,
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
Tit. Ha, ha, ha!
Marc. Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed.
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
And make them blind with tributary tears.
Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
Till all these mischiefs be returned again
Even in their throats that hath committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about
That I may turn me to each one of you
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
And in this hand the other will I bear.
And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms.
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight.
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there.
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do.
Exeunt.”
― Titus Andronicus
“keep eternal springtime on thy face”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“O, had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touched them for his life”
― Titus Andronicus
Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touched them for his life”
― Titus Andronicus
“Sorrow concealèd, like an oven stopped,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.”
― Titus Andronicus
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.”
― Titus Andronicus
“Give me a staff of honor for mine age, / But not a scepter to control the world.”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.”
― Titus Andronicus
― Titus Andronicus
“إن كانت فينوس بحبها تتحكم في رغباتكم
فإن ساترن بنحسه يسيطر على رغبتي.
إلا ففيما النظرة الثابتة المحملقة في عيني؟و
ولم هذا الصمت وهذا الحزن المكفهر؟
لماذا تسترسل الآن غدائر شعري المجعد
وكأنه حية رقطاء تتمدد لكي تأتي عملا مميتا؟
إن هذه ليست أمارات الشهوة يا سيتي،
إنما هي أمارات الانتقام في قلبي ، والموت في يدي ،
والدم والثأر يدقان كالمطارق في رأسي.”
― Titus Andronicus
فإن ساترن بنحسه يسيطر على رغبتي.
إلا ففيما النظرة الثابتة المحملقة في عيني؟و
ولم هذا الصمت وهذا الحزن المكفهر؟
لماذا تسترسل الآن غدائر شعري المجعد
وكأنه حية رقطاء تتمدد لكي تأتي عملا مميتا؟
إن هذه ليست أمارات الشهوة يا سيتي،
إنما هي أمارات الانتقام في قلبي ، والموت في يدي ،
والدم والثأر يدقان كالمطارق في رأسي.”
― Titus Andronicus
“إن الدهاء والحيلة ، هما اللذان
يحققان ما تريدان ، ولا بد أن تقتنعا
بأن المرء إذا لم يستطع أن ينال بغيته كما يشتهي
فعليه أن ينال بالقوة ما يستطيع.”
― Titus Andronicus
يحققان ما تريدان ، ولا بد أن تقتنعا
بأن المرء إذا لم يستطع أن ينال بغيته كما يشتهي
فعليه أن ينال بالقوة ما يستطيع.”
― Titus Andronicus
“fresh tears
Stood upon her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gathered lily almost withered”
― Titus Andronicus
Stood upon her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gathered lily almost withered”
― Titus Andronicus
“أما أنت ، يا صورة الأسى التي لا تتكلم إلا رمزا ،
إنك إذا اضطرب قلبك المسكين بوجيبه المجنون الثائر
فإنك لن تستطيعي أن تضربيه هكذا ليسكت.
الفحيه يا فتاتي بنار آهاتك ، واقتليه بحر أنينك ،
أو هاتي سكينا صغيرا وضعيه بين أسنانك ،
وتعالي إلى أقرب ما تكونين من قلبك ، وافتحي فيه ثغرة ،
حتى تجري الدموع المسفوكة من عينيك المسكينتين لتنصب في هذا الوعاء حتى يترع ،
فتغرق نفسك الحزينة فيه في بحر ملح من الدموع.”
― Titus Andronicus
إنك إذا اضطرب قلبك المسكين بوجيبه المجنون الثائر
فإنك لن تستطيعي أن تضربيه هكذا ليسكت.
الفحيه يا فتاتي بنار آهاتك ، واقتليه بحر أنينك ،
أو هاتي سكينا صغيرا وضعيه بين أسنانك ،
وتعالي إلى أقرب ما تكونين من قلبك ، وافتحي فيه ثغرة ،
حتى تجري الدموع المسفوكة من عينيك المسكينتين لتنصب في هذا الوعاء حتى يترع ،
فتغرق نفسك الحزينة فيه في بحر ملح من الدموع.”
― Titus Andronicus
“لم تضحك وليس هذا أوان ضحك؟
: لم! لأنه لم تعد في عيني دمعة واحدة فأسكبها.
إن هذا الحزن عدو مغتصب غاشم،
أخشى أن ينقض على عيوني الدامعة
فيفرض عليها ضريبة من الدمع تعميها.
أين الطريق لأستخفى منه في كهف الانتقام؟”
― Titus Andronicus
: لم! لأنه لم تعد في عيني دمعة واحدة فأسكبها.
إن هذا الحزن عدو مغتصب غاشم،
أخشى أن ينقض على عيوني الدامعة
فيفرض عليها ضريبة من الدمع تعميها.
أين الطريق لأستخفى منه في كهف الانتقام؟”
― Titus Andronicus
