Monologue

Titus Monologue from Titus Andronicus

From Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare

male · anguished · 1:23 min

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So so; now sit; and look you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. Marcus, unknit 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 Is left to tyrannize upon my breast; Who when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, Then thus I thump it down. Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs, When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating, Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. 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.

About this piece

Titus Andronicus expresses profound grief and a desire for revenge after suffering great losses, urging his companions to share in his pain and take action against their oppressors.

40s · despair · revenge · death · grief · suffering

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