my pleasing tale, And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses. What, canst thou say all this, and never blush? Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is. Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds? 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. Bring down the devil; for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently. 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! Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more. My lord, there is a messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence. Let him come near. Welcome, AEmilius what's the news from Rome? 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. What says our general? Aemilius, let the emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus, And we will come. March away. 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. Who doth molest my contemplation? Is it your trick to