Abbildungen der Seite

Come down, and welcome me to this world's light;
Confer with me of murder and of death;
There's not a hollow cave, nor 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.

Tit. Art thou Revenge ? and art thou sent to me,
To be a torment to mine enemies ?

Tam. I am ; therefore come down, and welcome mes

Tit. Do me some service, ere I come to thee :
Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stand ;
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 globes ;
Provide two proper palfries black as jet,
To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
And find out murders in their guilty caves.
And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
I will dismount, and by thy waggon wheel
Trot like a servile foot-man all day long;
Even from Hyperion's rising in the east,
Until his very downfal in the sea.
And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.

Tam. These are my ministers, and come with me.
Tit. Are they thy ministers ? what are they callid ?

Tam. Rapine and Murder; therefore called so, 'Cause they take vengeance on fuch kind of men.

Tit. Good Lord, how like the Empress’ sons they are, And you the Empress ! but we worldly men Have miserable mad miftaking 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 Titus

from abovka Tam. This closing with him fits his lunacy. Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-fick fits, Do you uphold, and maintain in your speech, M 4


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 whilft 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 mult ply my theme. (26)

Enter Titus.
Tit. 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?

Tam. What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus
Dem. Shew me a murderer, I'll deal with him.

Chi, Shew me a villain, that hath done a rape,
And I am sent to be revenged on him.

Tam. Shew me a thousand, that have done thee wrong And I will be revenged on them all.

Tit. Look round about the wicked streets of Rome, And when thou find'st a man that's like thyself, Good Murder, ftab him; he's a murderer. Go thou with him, and when it is thy hap To find another that is like to thee, Good Rapine, ftab him ; he's a ravilher. Go thou with them, and in the Emperor's court There is a Queen attended by a Moor;

(26) See, bere he comes, and I must play my theme. ] Tho' this reading has obtain'd as far back as the first edition in folio-to play a theme, I think, is no justifiable expression, nor one that our author would have chose to use. The reading, I have given, has the authority of the oldest quarto's,


Well may'st thou know her by thy own proportion,
For up and down the doth resemble thee;
I pray

thee, do on them some violent death; They have been violent to me and mine.

Tam. Well haft thou leffon'd us; this shall we dod.
But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
To send for Lucius thy thrice-valiant son,
Who leads tow'rds Rome a band of warlike Gothsg,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house.
When he is here, even at thy folemn feast,
I will bring in the Empress and her fons,
The Emperor himself, and all thy foes ;
And at thy mercy Mall they stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou eale thy angry heart:
What says Andronicus to this device?
Tit. Marcus, my brother !_'tis sad Titus calls

Enter Márcus.
Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
Thou shalt enquire him out amongst the Goths::
Bid him repair to me; and bring with him
Some of the chiefest Princes of the Goths;
Bid him encamp his foldiers where they are ; :
Tell him, the Emperor and the Empress too
Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them ; :
This do thou for my love, and so let him,,
As he regards his aged father's life.

Mar. This will I do, and soon return again. [Exit..

Tam. Now will I hence about my business, And take my ministers along with me,

Tit. Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me; Or else I'll call my brother back again, And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.

Tam. What say you, boys, will you abide with him, Whiles I


Lord the Emperor,
How I have govern’d our determin’d jest ?
Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
And tarry with him 'till I come again.

Tit. I know them all, tho' they suppose me mad;
And will o’er-reach them in their own devices :

A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam.

[Afide. Dem. Madam, depart at pleasure, leave us here.

Tam. Farewel, Andronicus; Revenge now goes To lay a complot to betray thy foes. [Exit Tamora.

Tit. I know, thou doft; and, sweet Revenge, farewel. Chi. Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd?

Tit. Tut, I have work enough for you to do.
Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine !

Enter Publius and Servants.
Pub. What is your will ?
Tit. Know ye these two ?

Pub. The Empress' fons,
I take them, Chiron, and Demetrius.

Tit. Fy, Publius, fy! thou art too much deceiv'd,
The ođe is Murder, Rape is th' other's name;
And therefore bind them, gentle Publius;
Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them;
Oft have you heard me with for such an hour,
And now I find it, therefore bind them sure. [Exit Titus.

Chi. Villains, forbear; we are the Empress' fons.

Pub. And therefore do we what we are commanded. Stop close their mouths; let them not speak a word. Is he fure bound? look, that ye bind them faft. Enter Titus Andronicus with a knife, and Lavinia with

a bafon. Tit. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound; Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me, But let them hear what fearful words I utter.. Oh, villains Chiron and Demetrius ! Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud, This goodly summer with your winter mixt: You kill'd her husband, and for that vile faultTwo of her brothers were condemn'd to death; My hand cut off, and made a merry jelt; Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity; Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forc'd. What would ye fay, if I should let you speak? 3


Villains !—for shame you could not beg for grace.
Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
This one hand


is left to cut your throats,
Whilst that Lavinia 'twixt her stumps doth hold
The bason, that receives your guilty blood.
You know, your mother means to feast with me,
And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad
Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust,
And with your blood and it I'll make a paste ;
And of the paste a coffin will I rear,
And make two pafties of your shameful heads ;
And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
Like to the earth, swallow her own increase.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you us’d my daughter;
And worse than Procne I will be reveng'd.
And now prepare your throats : Lavinia, come,
Receive the blood; and, when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
And with this hateful liquor temper it;
And in that parte let their vile heads be bak'do
Come, come, be every one officious.
To make this banquet, which I wish might prove
More ftern and bloody than the Centaurs feast.

[He cuts their throats.
So, now bring them in, for I'll play the cook,
And see them ready 'gainst the mother comes. [Exeunt,
Enter Lucius, Marcus, and Goths with Aaron Prisoner.

Luc. Uncle Marcus, since 'tis my father's mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.

Goth. And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
Luc. Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
This ravenous tyger, this accursed devil ;
Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him,
'Till he be brought unto the Emp'ror's face,
For testimony of these foul proceedings;
And see, the ambush of our friends be strong;
I fear, the Emperor means no good to us.


[ocr errors]
« ZurückWeiter »