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

I play’d the cheater for thy father’s hand;

And, when I had it, drew myself apart,

And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter:

I pry’d me through the crevice of a wall

When, for his hand, he had his two sons’ heads;

Beheld his tears, and laugh’d so heartily

That both mine eyes were rainy like to his:

And when I told the empress of this sport,

She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,

And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.

GOTH.

What, canst thou say all this and never blush?

AARON.

Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.

LUCIUS.

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 stray and 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.

LUCIUS.

Bring down the devil; for he must not die

So sweet a death as hanging presently.

AARON.

If there be devils, would I were a devil,

To live and burn in everlasting fire,

So I might have your company in hell

But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

LUCIUS.

Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.

[Enter a GOTH.}

THIRD GOTH.

My lord, there is a messenger from Rome

Desires to be admitted to your presence.

LUCIUS.

Let him come near.

[Enter AEMILIUS.]

Welcome, Aemilius. What’s the news from Rome?

AEMILIUS.

Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,

The Roman emperor greets you all by me;

And, for he understands you are in arms,

He craves a parley at your father’s house,

Willing you to demand your hostages,

And they shall be immediately deliver’d.

FIRST GOTH.

What says our general?

LUCIUS.

Aemilius, let the emperor give his pledges

Unto my father and my uncle Marcus.

And we will come.—March away.

[Exeunt.]

German

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Rome. Before TITUS’S House.

[Enter TAMORA, DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, disguised.]

TAMORA.

Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment,

I will encounter with Andronicus,

And say I am Revenge, sent from below

To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.

Knock at his study, where they say he keeps

To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;

Tell him Revenge is come to join with him,

And work confusion on his enemies.

[They knock.]

[Enter TITUS, above.]

TITUS.

Who doth molest my contemplation?

Is it your trick to make me ope the door,

That so my sad decrees may fly away

And all my study be to no effect?

You are deceiv’d: for what I mean to do

See here in bloody lines I have set down;

And what is written shall be executed.

TAMORA.

Titus, I am come to talk with thee.

TITUS.

No, not a word: how can I grace my talk,

Wanting a hand to give it action?

Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more.

TAMORA.

If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me.

TITUS.

I am not mad; I know thee well enough:

Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines;

Witness these trenches made by grief and care;

Witness the tiring day and heavy night;

Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well

For our proud empress, mighty Tamora:

Is not thy coming for my other hand?

TAMORA.

Know thou, sad man, I am not Tamora;

She is thy enemy and I thy friend:

I am Revenge; sent from the infernal kingdom

To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind

By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.

Come down and welcome me to this world’s light;

Confer with me of murder and of death:

There’s not a hollow cave or lurking-place,

No vast obscurity or misty vale,

Where bloody murder or detested rape

Can couch for fear but I will find them out;

And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,—

Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.

TITUS.

Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me

To be a torment to mine enemies?

TAMORA.

I am; therefore come down and welcome me.

TITUS.

Do me some service ere I come to thee.

Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands;

Now give some surance that thou art Revenge,—

Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels;

And then I’ll come and be thy waggoner,

And whirl along with thee about the globe.

Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,

To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,

And find out murderers in their guilty caves:

And when thy car is loaden with their heads

I will dismount, and by the waggon-wheel

Trot, like a servile footman, all day long,

Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east

Until his very downfall in the sea:

And day by day I’ll do this heavy task,

So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.

TAMORA.

These are my ministers, and come with me.

TITUS.

Are they thy ministers? what are they call’d?

TAMORA.

Rapine and Murder; therefore called so

‘Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.

TITUS.

Good Lord, how like the empress’ sons they are!

And you the empress! But we worldly men

Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.

O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee;

And, if one arm’s embracement will content thee,

I will embrace thee in it by and by.

[Exit from above.]

TAMORA.

This closing with him fits his lunacy:

Whate’er I forge to feed his brainsick fiits,

Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,

For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;

And, being credulous in this mad thought,

I’ll make him send for Lucius his son;

And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,

I’ll find some cunning practice out of hand

To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,

Or, at the least, make them his enemies.

See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.

[Enter TITUS.]

TITUS.

Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:

Welcome, dread fury, to my woeful house;—

Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too:—

How like the empress and her sons you are!

Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor:

Could not all hell afford you such a devil?—

For well I wot the empress never wags

But in her company there is a Moor;

And, would you represent our queen aright,

It were convenient you had such a devil:

But welcome as you are. What shall we do?

TAMORA.

What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?

DEMETRIUS.

Show me a murderer, I’ll deal with him.

CHIRON.

Show me a villain that hath done a rape,