William Shakespeare - Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band - Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch)

There is enough written upon this earth

To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts,

And arm the minds of infants to exclaims,

My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;

And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector’s hope;

And swear with me,—as, with the woeful fere

And father of that chaste dishonour’d dame,

Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece’ rape,—

That we will prosecute, by good advice,

Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,

And see their blood, or die with this reproach.

TITUS.

‘Tis sure enough, an you knew how.

But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:

The dam will wake; and if she wind you once,

She’s with the lion deeply still in league,

And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,

And when he sleeps will she do what she list.

You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone;

And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,

And with a gad of steel will write these words,

And lay it by: the angry northern wind

Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves, abroad,

And where’s our lesson, then?—Boy, what say you?

YOUNG LUCIUS.

I say, my lord, that if I were a man,

Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe

For these bad-bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

MARCUS.

Ay, that’s my boy! thy father hath full oft

For his ungrateful country done the like.

YOUNG LUCIUS.

And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.

TITUS.

Come, go with me into mine armoury;

Lucius, I’ll fit thee; and withal, my boy,

Shall carry from me to the empress’ sons

Presents that I intend to send them both:

Come, come; thou’lt do my message, wilt thou not?

YOUNG LUCIUS.

Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.

TITUS.

No, boy, not so; I’ll teach thee another course.—

Lavinia, come.—Marcus, look to my house:

Lucius and I’ll go brave it at the court;

Ay, marry, will we, sir: and we’ll be waited on.

[Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and YOUNG LUCIUS.]

MARCUS.

O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,

And not relent, or not compassion him?

Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,

That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart

Than foemen’s marks upon his batter’d shield;

But yet so just that he will not revenge:—

Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus!

[Exit.]

German

Table of Contents

Rome. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter AARON, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, at one door; at another door, YOUNG LUCIUS and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.]

CHIRON.

Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius;

He hath some message to deliver us.

AARON.

Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.

YOUNG LUCIUS.

My lords, with all the humbleness I may,

I greet your honours from Andronicus,—

[Aside.] And pray the Roman gods confound you both!

DEMETRIUS.

Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what’s the news?

YOUNG LUCIUS.

[Aside] That you are both decipher’d, that’s the news,

For villains mark’d with rape.—May it please you,

My grandsire, well advis’d, hath sent by me

The goodliest weapons of his armoury

To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say;

And so I do, and with his gifts present

Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,

You may be armed and appointed well:

And so I leave you both—[aside] like bloody villains.

[Exeunt YOUNG LUCIUS and Attendant.]

DEMETRIUS.

What’s here? A scroll; and written round about?

Let’s see:

[Reads.] ‘Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,

Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.’

CHIRON.

O, ‘tis a verse in Horace, I know it well:

I read it in the grammar long ago.

AARON.

Ay, just,—a verse in Horace;—right, you have it.—

[Aside] Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!

Here’s no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;

And sends them weapons wrapp’d about with lines,

That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.

But were our witty empress well afoot,

She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit.

But let her rest in her unrest awhile.—

And now, young lords, was’t not a happy star

Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,

Captives, to be advanced to this height?

It did me good before the palace gate

To brave the tribune in his brother’s hearing.

DEMETRIUS.

But me more good to see so great a lord

Basely insinuate and send us gifts.

AARON.

Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?

Did you not use his daughter very friendly?

DEMETRIUS.

I would we had a thousand Roman dames

At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.

CHIRON.

A charitable wish, and full of love.

AARON.

Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.

CHIRON.

And that would she for twenty thousand more.

DEMETRIUS.

Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods

For our beloved mother in her pains.

AARON.

[Aside.] Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.

[Flourish within.]

DEMETRIUS.

Why do the emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?

CHIRON.

Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.

DEMETRIUS.

Soft! who comes here?

[Enter a NURSE, with a blackamoor CHILD in her arms.]

NURSE.

Good morrow, lords:

O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?

AARON.

Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all,

Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?

NURSE.

O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!

Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!

AARON.

Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!

What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?

NURSE.

O, that which I would hide from heaven’s eye,

Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace!—

She is deliver’d, lords,—she is deliver’d.

AARON.

To whom?

NURSE.

I mean, she’s brought a-bed.

AARON.

Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?

NURSE.

A devil.

AARON.

Why, then she is the devil’s dam; a joyful issue.

NURSE.

A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:

Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad

Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime:

The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,

And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.

AARON.

Zounds, ye whore! is black so base a hue?—

Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom sure.

DEMETRIUS.

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.

DEMETRIUS.

And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone.

Woe to her chance, and damn’d her loathed choice!

Accurs’d the offspring of so foul a fiend!

CHIRON.

It shall not live.

AARON.

It shall not die.

NURSE.

Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.

AARON.

What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I

Do execution on my flesh and blood.

DEMETRIUS.

I’ll broach the tadpole on my rapier’s point:—

Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it.

AARON.

Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.

[Takes the CHILD from the NURSE, and draws.]

Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother?

Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,

That shone so brightly when this boy was got,