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diff --git a/old/spatr10.txt b/old/spatr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8001d84 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/spatr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4569 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Spanish Tragedie, by Thomas Kyd + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Spanish Tragedie + +Author: Thomas Kyd + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6043] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 23, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE SPANISH TRAGEDIE *** + + + + +This eBook was prepared by Daniel Callahan. + + +1587 + + +THE SPANISH TRAGEDIE + +Thomas Kyd + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +[Edited by John Matthews Manly, 1897. This electronic text is based on the +earliest extant edition, which is undated but was printed before 1618. Some +bracketed text is verbatim from Manly's edition. However, some bracketed text +is taken from alternate editions which Manly originally supplied in footnotes. +As the editor of this electronic edition, I have sometimes chosen the clearer +of two alternatives, sacrificing the specificity of Manly's footnoted edition +in favor of a text that has a better chance of being read and understood by a +modern audience. I have also excluded the insertions supposed to have been +written by Ben Johnson, as well as the additional dialogue from III.xiii and +IV.iii. Some alternate dialogue has been included as has been labeled as +such.] + + +Containing the lamentable end of DON HORATIO, and BEL-IMPERIA: +with the pittiful death of olde HIERONIMO. + + +Newly corrected and amended of such grosse faults as passed in the +first impression. + +At London + +Printed by Edward Allde, for + +Edward White + + +[DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + +GHOST OF ANDREA | +REVENGE | the Chorus. +KING OF SPAIN. +VICEROY OF PORTUGAL. +DON CIPRIAN, duke of Castile. +HIERONIMO, knight-marshall of Spain. +BALTHAZAR, the Viceroy's son. +LORENZO, Don Ciprian's son [and Bel-imperia's brother]. +HORATIO, Hieronimo's son. +ALEXANDRO | +VILLUPPO | lords of Portual. +PEDRINGANO, servant of Bel-imperia. +SERBERINE, servant of Balthazar. +Spanish General, Portuguese Embassador, Old Man, Painter Page, +Hangman, Citizens, Soldiers, Attendants, &c. +BEL-IMPERIA, Lorenzo's sister. +ISABELLA, Hieronimo's wife. +PAGE. +MESSENGER. +CHRISTOPHEL. +SERVANT. +SENEX (DON BAZULTO). +CITIZENS. + + +SCENE: Spain; and Portugal.] + + + +ACTVS PRIMVS. + [Prologue] + + Enter the GHOAST OF ANDREA, and with him REUENGE. + + GHOAST. When this eternall substance of my soule + Did liue imprisond in my wanton flesh, + Ech in their function seruing others need, + I was a courtier in the Spanish court: + My name was Don Andrea; my discent, + Though not ignoble, yet inferiour far + To gratious fortunes of my tender youth, + For there, in prime and pride of all my yeeres, + By duteous seruice and deseruing loue, + In secret I possest a worthy dame, + Which hight sweet Bel-imperia by name. + But in the haruest of my sommer ioyes + Deaths winter nipt the blossomes of my blisse, + Forcing diuorce betwixt my loue and me; + For in the late conflict with Portingale + My valour drew me into dangers mouth + Till life to death made passage through my wounds. + When I was slaine, my soule descended straight + To passe the flowing streame of Archeron; + But churlish Charon, only boatman there, + Said that, my rites of buriall not performde, + I might not sit amongst his passengers. + Ere Sol had slept three nights in Thetis lap, + And slakte his smoaking charriot in her floud, + By Don Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne, + My funerals and obsequies were done. + Then was the fariman of hell content + To passe me ouer to the slimie strond + That leades to fell Auernus ougly waues. + There, pleasing Cerberus with honied speech, + I past the perils of the formost porch. + Not farre from hence, amidst ten thousand soules, + Sate Minos, Eacus and Rhadamant; + To whome no sooner gan I make approach, + To craue a pasport for my wandring ghost, + But Minos in grauen leaues of lotterie + Drew forth the manner of my life and death. + "This knight," quoth he, "both liu'd and died in loue; + And for his loue tried fortune of the warres; + And by warres fortune lost both loue and life." + "Why then," said Eacus, "convey him hence + To walke with lovers in our field of loue + And the course of euerlasting time + Vnder greene mirtle-trees and cipresse shades." + "No, no!" said Rhadamant, "it were not well + With louing soules to place a martialist. + He died in warre, and must to martiall fields, + Where wounded Hector liues in lasting paine, + And Achilles Mermedons do scoure the plaine." + Then Minos, mildest censor of the three, + Made this deuice, to end the difference: + "Send him," quoth he, "to our infernall king, + To dome him as best seemes his Maiestie." + To this effect my pasport straight was drawne. + In keeping on my way to Plutos court + Through dreadfull shades of euer-glooming night, + I saw more sights than thousand tongues can tell + Or pennes can write or mortall harts can think. + Three waies there were: that on the right hand side + Was ready way vnto the foresaid fields + Where louers liue and bloudie martialists, + But either sort containd within his bounds; + The left hand path, declining fearfuly, + Was ready downfall to the deepest hell, + Where bloudie Furies shakes their whips of steele, + And poore Ixion turnes an endles wheele, + Where vsurers are choakt with melting golde, + And wantons are imbraste with ougly snakes, + And murderers groane with neuer-killing wounds, + And periured wights scalded in boiling lead, + And all foule sinnes with torments ouerwhelmd; + Twixt these two waies I trod the middle path, + Which brought me to the faire Elizian greene, + In midst whereof there standes a stately towre, + The walles of brasse, the gates of adamant. + Heere finding Pluto with his Proserpine, + I shewed my pasport, humbled on my knee. + Whereat faire Proserpine began to smile, + And begd that onely she might giue me doome. + Pluto was pleasd, and sealde it with a kisse. + Forthwith, Reuenge, she rounded thee in th' eare, + And bad thee lead me though the gates of horn, + Where dreames haue passage in the silent night. + No sooner had she spoke but we weere heere, + I wot not how, in the twinkling of an eye. + + REUENGE. Then know, Andrea, that thou ariu'd + Where thou shalt see the author of thy death, + Don Balthazar, the prince of Portingale, + Depriu'd of life by Bel-imperia: + Heere sit we downe to see the misterie, + And serue for Chorus in this tragedie. + + + +[ACT I. SCENE 1.] + [The Spanish Court] + + Enter SPANISH KING, GENERALL, CASTILLE, HIERONIMO. + + KING. Now say, l[ord] generall: how fares our campe? + + GEN. All wel, my soueraigne liege, except some few + That are deceast by fortune of the warre. + + KING. But what portends thy cheerefull countenance + And posting to our presence this in hast? + Speak, man: hath fortune giuen vs victorie? + + GEN. Victorie, my liege, and that with little losse. + + KING. Out Portugals will pay vs tribute then? + + GEN. Tribute, and wonted homage therewithall. + + KING. Then blest be Heauen, and Guider of the heauens, + From whose faire influence such iustice flowes! + + CAST. O multum dilecte Deo, tibi militat aether, + Et coniuratae curato poplite gentes + Succumbent: recto soror est victoria iuris! + + KING. Thanks to my loving brother of Castille. + But, generall, vnfolde in breefe discourse + Your forme of battell and your warres successe, + That, adding all the pleasure of thy newes + Vnto the height of former happines, + With deeper wage and gentile dignitie + We may reward thy blisfull chiualrie. + + GEN. Where Spaine and Portingale do ioyntly knit + Their frontiers, leaning on each others bound, + There met our armies in the proud aray: + Both furnisht well, both full of hope and feare, + Both menacing alike with daring showes, + Both vaunting sundry colours of deuice, + Both cheerly sounding trumpets, drums and fifes, + Both raising dreadfull clamors to the skie, + That valleis, hils, and riuers made rebound + And heauen it-selfe was frighted with the sound. + Our battels both were pitcht in squadron forme, + Each corner strongly fenst with wings of shot; + But, ere we ioyned and came to push of pike, + I brought a squadron of our readiest shot + From out our rearward to begin the fight; + They brought another wing to incounter vs; + Meane-while our ordinance plaid on either side, + And captaines stroue to haue their valours tride. + Don Pedro, their chiefe horsemens corlonell, + Did with his cornet brauely make attempt + To break our order of our battell rankes; + But Don Rogero, worthy man of warre, + Marcht forth against him with our musketiers + And stopt the mallice of his fell approach. + While they maintaine hot skirmish too and fro, + Both battailes ioyne and fall to handie blowes, + Their violent shot resembling th' oceans rage + When, roaring lowd and with a swelling tide, + It beats vpon the rampiers of huge rocks, + And gapes to swallow neighbor-bounding lands. + Now, while Bellona rageth heere and there, + Thick stormes of bullets ran like winters haile, + And shiuered launces darke the troubled aire; + Pede pes & cuspide cuspis, + Arma sonant armis vir petiturque viro; + On euery side drop captaines to the ground, + And souldiers, some ill-maimde, some slaine outright: + Heere falls a body sundred from his head; + There legs and armes lye bleeding on the grasse, + Mingled with weapons and vnboweled steeds, + That scattering ouer-spread the purple plaine. + In all this turmoyle, three long hovres and more + The victory to neither part inclinde, + Till Don Andrea with his braue lanciers + In their maine battell made so great a breach + That, halfe dismaid, the multitude retirde. + But Balthazar, the Portingales young prince, + Brought rescue and encouragde them to stay. + Heere-hence the fight was eagerly renewd, + And in that conflict was Andrea slaine, -- + Braue man-at-arms, but weake to Balthazar. + Yet, while the prince, insulting ouer him, + Breathd out proud vaunts, sounding to our reproch, + Friendship and hardie valour ioyned in one + Prickt forth Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne, + To challenge forth that prince in single fight. + Not long betweene these twain the fight indurde, + But straight the prince was beaten from his horse + And forcst to yeeld him prisoner to his foe. + When he was taken, all the rest fled, + And our carbines pursued them to death, + Till, Phoebus waning to the western deepe, + Our trumpeters were chargd to sound retreat. + + KING. Thanks, good l[ord] general, for these good newes! + And, for some argument of more to come, + Take this and weare it for thy soueraignes sake. + + Giue him his chaine. + + But tell me now: hast thou confirmed a peace? + + GEN. No peace, my liege, but peace conditionall, + That, if with homage tribute be well paid, + The fury of your forces wilbe staide. + And to this peace their viceroy hath subscribde, + + Giue the K[ING] a paper. + + And made a solemne vow that during life + His tribute shalbe truely paid to Spaine. + + KING. These words, these deeds become thy person wel. + But now, knight-marhsall, frolike with thy king, + For tis thy sonne that winnes this battels prize. + + HIERO. Long may he liue to serue my soueraigne liege! + And soone decay unless he serue my liege! + + A [trumpet] a-farre off. + + KING. Nor thou nor he shall dye without reward. + What meanes this warning of this trumpets sound? + + GEN. This tels me that your Graces men of warre, + Such as warres fortune hath reseru'd from death, + Come marching on towards your royall seate, + To show themselues before your Maiestie; + For so gaue I in charge at my depart. + Whereby by demonstration shall appeare + That all, except three hundred or few more, + Are safe returnd and by their foes inricht. + + The armie enters, BALTHAZAR betweene LORENZO + and HORATIO, captiue. + + KING. A gladsome sight! I long to see them heere. + + They enter and passe by. + + Was that the warlike prince of Portingale + That by our nephew was in triumph led? + + GEN. It was, my liege, the prince of Portingale. + + KING. But what was he that on the other side + Held him by th' arme as partner of the prize? + + HIERO. That was my sonne, my gracious soueraigne; + Of whome though from his tender infancie + My louing thoughts did neuer hope but well, + He neuer pleasd his fathers eyes till now, + Nor fild my hart with ouercloying ioyes. + + KING. Goe, let them march once more about these walles, + That staying them we may conferre and talke + With our braue prisoner and his double guard. + + [Exit a MESSENGER.] + + Hieoronimo, it greatly pleaseth vs + That in our victorie thou haue a share + By vertue of thy worthy sonnes exploit. + + Enter againe. + + Bring hether the young prince of Portingale! + The rest martch on, but, ere they be dismist, + We will bestow on euery soldier + Two duckets, and on euery leader ten, + That they may know our largesse welcomes them. + + Exeunt all [the army] but BAL[THAZAR], + LOR[ENZO], and HOR[ATIO]. + + [KING.] Welcome, Don Balthazar! Welcome nephew! + And thou, Horatio, thou art welcome too! + Young prince, although thy fathers hard misdeedes + In keeping backe the tribute that he owes + Deserue but euill measure at our hands, + Yet shalt thou know that Spaine is honorable. + + BALT. The trespasse that my father made in peace + Is now controlde by fortune of the warres; + And cards once dealt, it bootes not aske why so. + His men are slaine, -- a weakening to his realme; + His colours ceaz'd, -- a blot vnto his name; + His sonne distrest, -- a corsiue to his hart; + These punishments may cleare his late offence. + + KING. I, Balthazar, if he obserue this truce, + Our peace will grow the stronger for these warres. + Meane-while liue thou, though not in libertie, + Yet free from bearing any seruile yoake; + For in our hearing thy deserts were great. + And in our sight thy-selfe art gratious. + + BALT. And I shall studie to deserue this grace. + + KING. But tell me, -- for their holding makes me doubt: + To Which of these twaine art thou prisoner? + + LOR. To me, my liege. + + HOR. To me, my soueraigne. + + LOR. This hand first tooke his courser by the raines. + + HOR. But first my launce did put him from his horse. + + LOR. I ceaz'd the weapon and enioyde it first. + + HOR. But first I forc'd him lay his weapons downe. + + KING. Let goe his arm, vpon my priviledge! + + Let him goe. + + Say, worthy prince: to whether didst thou yeeld? + + BALT. To him in curtesie; to this perforce; + He spake me faire, this other gaue me strokes; + He promisde life, this other threatned death; + He wan my loue, this other conquerd me; + And, truth to say, I yeeld my-selfe to both. + + HIERO. But that I [know] your Grace is iust and wise, + And might seeme partiall in this difference, + Inforct by nature and by law of armes, + My tongue should plead for young Horatios right. + He hunted well that was a lyons death, + Not he that in a garment wore his skin; + So hares may pull dead lyons by the beard. + + KING. Content thee, marshall; thou shalt haue no wrong, + And for thy sake thy sonne shall want to right. + Will both abide the censure of my doome? + + LOR. I craue no better than your Grace awards. + + HOR. Nor I, although I sit beside my right. + + KING. Then by iudgement thus your strife shall end: + You both deserue and both shall haue reward. + Nephew, thou tookst his weapon[s] and his horse: + His weapons and his horse are thy reward. + Horatio, thou didst force him first to yeeld: + His ransome therefore is thy valours fee; + Appoint the sum as you shall both agree. + But, nephew, thou shalt haue the prince in guard, + For thine estate best fitteth such a guest; + Horatios house were small for all his traine. + Yet, in regard they substance passeth his, + And that iust guerdon may befall desert, + To him we yeeld the armour of the prince. + How likes don Balthazar of this deuice? + + BALT. Right well, my liege, if this prouizo were: + That Don Horatio beare vs company, + Whome I admire and loue for chiualrie. + + KING. Horatio, leaue him not that loues thee so. + Now let vs hence, to see our souldiers paide, + And feast our prisoner as our friendly guest. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT I. SCENE 2.] + + [Portugal: the VICEROY'S palace.] + + Enter VICEROY, ALEXANDRO, VILLUPPO. + + VICE. Is our embassadour dispatcht for Spaine? + + ALEX. Two daies, my liege, are past since his depart. + + VICE. And tribute paiment gone along with him? + + ALEX. I, my good lord. + + VICE. Then rest we heere a-while in our vnrest; + And feede our sorrowes with inward sighes, + For deepest cares break neuer into teares. + But wherefore sit I in a regall throne? + This better fits a wretches endles moane. + Yet this is higher then my fortunes reach, + And therefore better then my state deserues. + + Falles to the grounde. + + I, I, this earth, image of melancholly, + Seeks him whome fates [adiudge] to miserie! + Heere let me lye! Now am I at the lowest! + Qui iacet in terra non habet vnde cadat. + In me concumpsit vires fortuna nocendo, + Nil superest vt iam possit obesse magis. + Yes, Fortune may bereaue me of my crowne -- + Heere, take it now; let Fortune doe her worst, + She shall now rob me of this sable weed. + O, no, she enuies none but pleasent things. + Such is the folly of despightfull chance, + Fortune is blinde and sees not my deserts, + So is she deafe and heares not my laments; + And, coulde she heare, yet is she willfull mad, + And therefore will not pittie my distresse. + Suppose that she coulde pittie me, what then? + What helpe can be expected at her hands + Whose foote is standing on a rowling stone + And minde more mutable then fickle windes? + Why waile I, then, wheres hope of no redresse? + O, yes, complaining makes my greefe seeme lesse. + My late ambition hath distaind my faith, + My breach of faith occaisioned bloudie warres, + Those bloudie warres haue spent my treasur[i]e, + And with my treasur[i]e my peoples blood, + And with the blood my ioy and best beloued, -- + My best beloued, my sweet and onely sonne! + O, wherefore went I not to warre my-selfe? + The cause was mine; I might haue died for both. + My yeeres were mellow, but his young and greene: + My death were naturall, but his was forced. + + ALEX. No doubt, my liege, but still the prince suruiues. + + VICE. Suruiues! I, where? + + ALEX. In Spaine, a prisoner by michance of warre. + + VICE. Then they haue slaine him for his fathers fault. + + ALEX. That were a breach to common lawe of armes. + + VICE. They recke no lawes that meditate reuenge. + + ALEX. His ransomes worth will stay from foule reuenge. + + VICE. No; if he liued, the newes would soone be heere. + + VILLUP. My soueraign, pardon the author of ill newes, + And Ile bewray the fortune of thy sonne. + + VICE. Speake on; Ile guerdon thee, what-ere it be. + Mine eare is ready to receiue ill newes, + My hart growne hard gainst mischiefes battery; + Stand vp, I say, and tell thy tale at large. + + VILLUP. Then heare that truth which these mine eies have seene: + When both the armies were in battell ioyned. + Don Balthazar amidst the thickest troupes, + To winne renowme, did wondrous feats of armes; + Amongst the rest I saw him hand-to-hand + In single fight with their lord generall. + Till Alexandro, that heere counterfeits + Vnder the colour of a duteous freend, + Discharged a pistol at the princes back, + As though he would haue slaine their generall, + But therwithall Don Balthazar fell downe; + And when he fell, then we began to flie; + But, had he liued, the day had sure bene ours. + + ALEX. O wiched forgerie! O traiterous miscreant! + + VICE. Hold thou thy peace! But now, Villuppo, say: + Where then became the carkasse of my sonne? + + VILLUP. I saw them drag it to the Spanish tents. + + VICE. I, I, my nightly dreames haue tolde me this! + Thou false, vnkinde, vnthankfull, traiterous beast! + Wherein had Balthazar offended thee, + That thou should betray him to our foes? + Wast Spanish golde that bleared so thine eyes + That thou couldst see no part of our deserts? + Perchance, because thou art Terseraes lord, + Thou hadst some hope to weare this diademe + If first my sonne and then my-selfe were slaine; + But thy ambitious thought shall breake thy neck. + I, this was it that made thee spill his bloud! + + Take the crowne and put it on againe. + + But Ile now weare it till they bloud be spilt. + + ALEX. Vouchsafe, dread soueraigne, to heare me speak! + + VICE. Away with him! his sight is second hell! + Keepe him till we determine his death. + If Balthazar be dead, he shall not liue. + + [They take him out.] + + Villuppo, follow vs for thy reward. + + Exit VICE[ROY]. + + VILLUP. Thus haue I with an enuious forged tale + Deceiued the king, betraid mine enemy, + And hope for guerdon of my villany. + + + +[ACT I. SCENE 3.] + + [Spain: the palace] + + Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA. + + BEL. Signior Horatio, this is the place and houre + Wherein I must intreat thee to relate + The circumstance of Don Andreas death, + Who liuing was my garlands sweetest flower, + And in his death hath buried my delights. + + HOR. For loue of him and seruice to yourself, + [Ile not] refuse this heauy dolefull charge; + Yet teares and sighes, I feare, will hinder me. + When both our armies were enioynd in fight, + Your worthie chiualier admist the thikst, + For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, + Was at the last by yong Don Balthazar + Encountered hand-to-hand. Their fight was long, + Their harts were great, their clamours menacing, + Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous; + But wrathfull Nemesis, that wicked power, + Enuying at Andreas praise and worth, + Cut short his life to end his praise and woorth. + She, she her-selfe, disguisde in armours maske, + As Pallas was before proud Pergamus, + Brought in a fresh supply of halberdiers, + Which pauncht his horse and dingd him to the ground. + Then yong Don Balthazar, with ruthles rage, + Taking aduantage of his foes distresse, + Did finish what his halberdiers begun; + And left not till Andreas life was done. + Then, though too late, incenst with iust remorce, + I with my band set foorth against the prince, + And brought him prisoner from his halba[r]diers. + + BEL. Would thou hadst slaine him that so slew my loue! + But then was Don Andreas carkasse lost? + + HOR. No; that was it for which I cheefely stroue, + Nor stept I back till I recouerd him. + I tooke him vp, and wound him in mine armes, + And, welding him vnto my priuate tent, + There laid him downe and dewd him with my teares, + And sighed and sorrowed as became a freend. + But neither freendly sorrow, sighes and teares + Could win pale Death from his vsurped right. + Yet this I did, and lesse I could not doe: + I saw him honoured with due funerall. + This scarfe I pluckt from off his liueles arme, + And wear it in remembrance of my freend. + + BEL. I know the scarfe: would he had kept it still! + For, had he liued, he would haue kept it still, + And worne it for his Bel-imperias sake; + For twas my fauour at his last depart. + But now weare thou it both for him and me; + For, after him, thou hast deserued it best. + But, for thy kindnes in his life and death, + Be sure, while Bel-imperias life endures, + She will be Don Horatios thankfull freend. + + HOR. And, madame, Don Horatio will not slacke + Humbly to serue faire Bel-imperia. + But now, if your good liking stand thereto, + Ile craue your pardon to goe seeke the prince; + For so the duke, your father, gaue me charge. + + Exit. + + BEL. I, goe, Horatio; leaue me heere alone, + For solitude best fits my cheereles mood. -- + Yet what auailes to waile Andreas death, + From whence Horatio proues my second loue? + Had he not loued Andrea as he did, + He could not sit in Bel-imperias thoughts. + But how can loue finde harbour in my brest, + Till I reuenge the death of my beloued? + Yes, second loue shall further my reuenge: + Ile loue Horatio, my Andreas freend, + The more to spight the prince that wrought his end; + And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my loue, + He shall, in rigour of my iust disdaine, + Reape long repentance for his murderous deed, -- + For what wast els but murderous cowardise, + So many to oppresse one valiant knight, + Without respect of honour in the fight? + And heere he comes that murdred my delight. + + Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR. + + LOR. Sister, what meanes this melanchollie walke? + + BEL. That for a-while I wish no company. + + LOR. But heere the prince is come to visite you. + + BEL. That argues that he liues in libertie. + + BAL. No madam, but in pleasing seruitude. + + BEL. Your prison then, belike, is your conceit. + + BAL. I, by conceite my freedome is enthralde. + + BEL. Then with conceite enlarge your-selfe againe. + + BAL. What if conceite haue laid my hart to gage? + + BEL. Pay that you borrowed, and recouer it. + + BAL. I die if it returne from whence it lyes. + + BEL. A hartles man, and liue? A miracle! + + BAL. I, lady, loue can work such miracles. + + LOR. Tush, tush, my lord! let goe these ambages, + And in plaine tearmes acquaint her with your loue. + + BEL. What bootes complaint, when thers no remedy? + + BAL. Yes, to your gracios selfe must I complaine, + In whose faire answere lyes my remedy, + On whose perfection all my thoughts attend, + On whose aspect mine eyes finde beauties bowre, + In whose translucent brest my hart is lodgde. + + BEL. Alas, my lord! there but words of course, + And but deuise to driue me from this place. + + She, going in, lets fall her gloue, which + HORATIO, comming out, takes vp. + + HOR. Madame, your gloue. + + BEL. Thanks, good Horatio; take it for thy paines. + + [BEL-IMPERIA exits.] + + BAL. Signior Horatio stoopt in happie time! + + HOR. I reapt more grace that I deseru'd or hop'd. + + LOR. My lord, be not dismaid for what is past; + You know that women oft are humerous: + These clouds will ouerblow with little winde; + Let me alone, Ill scatter them my-selfe. + Meane-while let vs deuise to spend the time + In some delightfull sports and reuelling. + + HOR. The king, my lords, is comming hither straight + To feast the Portingall embassadour; + Things were in readiness before I came. + + BAL. Then heere it fits vs to attend the king, + To welcome hither our embassadour, + And learne my father and my countries health. + + Enter the banquet, TRUMPETS, the KING, + and EMBASSADOUR. + + KING. See, lord embassador, how Spaine intreats + Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroyes sonne: + We pleasure more in kindenes than in warres. + + EMBASS. Sad is our king, and Portingale laments, + Supposing that Don Balthazar is slaine. + + BAL. [aside] So am I, slaine by beauties tirannie! -- + You see, my lord, how Balthazar is slaine: + I frolike with the Duke of Castilles sonne, + Wrapt euery houre in pleasures of the court, + And graste with fauours of his Maiestie. + + KING. Put off your greetings till our feast be done; + Now come and sit with vs, and taste our cheere. + + Sit to the banquet. + + Sit downe, young prince, you are our second guest; + Brother, sit downe; and nephew, take your placel + Signior Horatio, waite thou vpon our cup, + For well thou hast deserued to be honored. + Now, lordings, fall too: Spaine is Portugall, + And Portugall is Spaine; we both are freends; + Tribute is paid, and we enioy our right. + But where is olde Hieronimo, our marhsall? + He promised vs, in honor of our guest, + To grace our banquet with some pompous iest. + + Enter HIERONIMO with a DRUM, three KNIGHTS, + each with scutchin; then he fethces three + KINGS; they take their crownes and them + captiue. + + Hieronimo, this makes contents mine eie, + Although I sound well not the misterie. + + HIERO. The first arm'd knight that hung his scutchin vp + + He takes the scutchin ahd giues it to + the KING. + + Was English Robert, Earle of Glocester, + Who, when King Stephen bore sway in Albion, + Arriued with fiue and twenty thousand men + In Portingale, and, by successe of warre, + Enforced the king, then but a Sarasin, + To beare the yoake of the English monarchie. + + KING. My lord of Portingale, by this you see + That which may comfort both your king and you, + And make your late discomfort seeme the lesse. + But say, Hieronimo: what was the next? + + HIERO. The second knight that hung his scutchin vp + + He doth as he did before. + + Was Edmond, Earle of Kent in Albion. + When English Richard wore the diadem, + He came likewise and razed Lisbon walles, + And tooke the king of Portingale in fight, -- + For which, and other suche seruice done, + He after was created Duke of Yorke. + + KING. This is another speciall argument + That Portingale may daine to beare our yoake, + When it by little England hath beene yoakt. + But now, Hieronimo, what were the last? + + HIERO. The third and last, not least in our account, + + Dooing as before. + + Was, as the rest, a valiant Englishman, + Braue Iohn of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, + As by his scuthcin plainely may appeare: + He with a puissant armie came to Spaine + And tooke our Kinge of Castille prisoner. + + EMBASS. This is an argument for our viceroy + That Spaine may not insult for her successe, + Since English warriours likewise conquered Spaine + And made them bow their knees to Albion. + + KING. Hieronimo, I drinke to thee for this deuice, + Which hath pleasde both the embassador and me: + Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou loue the king! + + Takes the cup of HORATIO. + + My lord, I feare we sit but ouer-long, + Vnlesse our dainties were more delicate, -- + But welcome are to you the best we haue. + Now let vs in, that you may be dispatcht; + I think our councell is already set. + + Exeunt omnes. + + [CHORUS.] + + ANDREA. Come we for this from depth of vnder ground, -- + To see him feast that gaue me my deaths wound? + These pleasant sights are sorrow to my soule: + nothing but league and loue and banqueting! + + REUENGE. Be still, Andrea; ere we go from hence, + Ile turne their freendship into fell despight, + Their loue to mortall hate, their day to night, + Their hope into dispaire, their peace in warre, + Their ioyes to paine, their blisse to miserie. + + + +ACTUS SECUNDUS. +[ACT II. SCENE 1.] + + [The DUKE's castle.] + + Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR. + + LORENZO. My lord, though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy, + Let reason holde you in your wonted ioy: + In time the sauage bull sustaines the yoake, + In time all haggard hawkes will stoope to lure, + In time small wedges cleaue the hardest oake, + In time the [hardest] flint is pearst with softest shower; + And she in time will fall from her disdaine, + And rue the sufferance of your freendly paine. + + BAL. No; she is wilder, and more hard withall, + Then beast or bird, or tree or stony wall! + But wherefore blot I Bel-imperias name? + It is my fault, not she that merits blame. + My feature is not to content her sight; + My wordes are rude and worke her no delight; + The lines I send her are but harsh and ill, + Such as doe drop from Pan and Marsias quill; + My presents are not of sufficient cost; + And, being worthles, all my labours lost. + Yet might she loue me for my valiancie. + I; but thats slandred by captiuitie. + Yet might she loue me to content her sire. + I; but her reason masters [her] desire. + Yet might she loue me as her brothers freend. + I; but her hopes aime at some other end. + Yet might she loue me to vpreare her state. + I; but perhaps she [loues] some nobler mate. + Yet might she loue me as her beauties thrall. + I; but I feare she cannot loue at all. + + LOR. My lord, for my sake leaue these extasies, + And doubt not but weele finde some remedie. + Some cause there is that lets you not be loued: + First that must needs be knowne, and then remoued. + What if my sister loue some other knight? + + BAL. My sommers day will turne to winters night. + + LOR. I haue already founde a strategeme + To sound the bottome of this doubtfull theame. + My lord, for once you shall be rulde by me; + Hinder me not what ere you heare or see: + By force or faire meanes will I cast about + To finde the truth of all this question out. + Ho, Pedringano! + + PED. Signior. + + LOR. Vien qui presto! + + Enter PEDRINGANO. + + PED. Hath your lordship any seruice to command me? + + LOR. I, Pedringano, seruice of import. + And, not to spend the time in trifling words, + Thus stands the case: it is not long, thou knowst, + Since I did shield thee from my fathers wrath + For thy conueniance in Andreas love, + For which thou wert adiudg'd to punishment; + I stood betwixt thee and thy punishment, + And since thou knowest how I haue favored thee. + Now to these fauours will I adde reward, + Not with faire woords, but store of golden coyne + And lands and liuing ioynd with dignities, + If thou but satisfie my iust demaund; + Tell truth and haue me for thy lasting freend. + + PED. What-ere it be your lordship shall demaund, + My bounden duety bids me tell the truth, + If case it lye in me to tell the truth. + + LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demaund; + Whome loues my sister Bel-imperia? + For she reposeth all her trust in thee. + Speak, man, and gaine both freendship and reward: + I meane, whome loues she in Andreas place? + + PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andreas death + I haue no credit with her as before, + And therefore know not if she loue or no. + + LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe, + And feare shall force what frendship cannot winne. + Thy death shall bury what thy life conceales. + Thou dyest for more esteeming her than me! + + [Draws his sword.] + + PED. Oh stay, my lord! + + LOR. Yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee + And shield thee from what-euer can ensue, + And will conceale what-euer proceeds from thee; + But, if thou dally once againe, thou diest! + + PED. If madame Bel-imperia be in loue -- + + LOR. What, villaine! ifs and ands? + + PED. Oh stay, my lord! she loues Horatio! + + BALTHAZAR starts back. + + LOR. What! Don Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne? + + PED. Euen him, my lord. + + LOR. Now say but how knoest thou he is her loue, + And thou shalt finde me kinde and liberall. + Stand vp, I say, and feareles tell the truth. + + PED. She sent him letters, -- which my-selfe perusde, -- + Full-fraught with lines and arguments of loue, + Perferring him before Prince Balthazar. + + LOR. Sweare on this crosse that what thou saiest is true, + And that thou wilt conseale what thou hast tolde. + + PED. I sweare to both, by him that made vs all. + + LOR. In hope thine oath is true, heeres thy reward. + But, if I proue thee periurde and vniust, + This very sword whereon thou tookst thine oath + Shall be the worker of thy tragedie. + + PED. What I haue saide is true, and shall, for me, + Be still conceald from Bel-imperia. + Besides, your Honors liberalitie + Deserues my duteous seruice euen till death. + + LOR. Let this be all that thou shall doe for me: + Be watchfull when and where these louers meete, + And giue me notice in some secret sort. + + PED. I will, my lord. + + LOR. Then thou shalt finde that I am liberall. + Thou knowest that I can more aduance thy state + Then she: be therefore wise and faile me not. + Goe and attend her as thy custome is, + Least absence make her think thou doost amisse. + + Exit PEDRINGANO. + + Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio: + Where wordes preuaile not, violence preuailes. + But golde doth more than either of them both. + How likes Prince Balthazar this strategeme? + + BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad: + Glad, that I know the hinderer of my loue; + Sad, that I fear she hates me whome I loue; + Glad, that I know on whome to be reueng'd; + Sad, that sheele flie me if I take reuenge. + Yet must I take reuenge or dye my-selfe; + For loue resisted growes impatient. + I think Horatio be my destind plague: + First, in his hand he brandished a sword, + And with that sword he fiercely waged warre, + And in that warre he gaue me dangerous wounds, + And by those wounds he forced me to yeeld, + And by my yeelding I became his slaue; + Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words, + Which pleasing wordes doe harbour sweet conceits, + Which sweet conceits are lim'd with slie deceits, + Which slie deceits smooth Bel-imperias eares, + And through her eares diue downe into her hart, + And in her hart set him, where I should stand. + Thus hath he tane my body by force, + And now by sleight would captiuate my soule; + But in his fall Ile tempt the Destinies, + And either loose my life or winne my loue. + + LOR. Lets goe, my lord; [our] staying staies reuenge. + Doe but follow me, and gaine your loue; + Her fauour must be wonne by his remooue. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT II. SCENE 2.] + +[The Duke's Castle] + + Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA. + + HOR. Now, madame, since by fauour of your love + Our hidden smoke is turnd to open flame, + And that with lookes and words we feed our thought, -- + Two chiefe contents where more cannot be had, -- + Thus in the midst of loues faire blandeshments + Why shew you signe of inward languishments? + + PEDRINGANO sheweth all to the PRINCE and + LORENZO, placing them in secret. + + BEL. My hart, sweet freend, is like a ship at sea: + She wisheth port, where, riding all at ease, + She may repaire what stormie times haue worne, + And, leaning on the shore, may sing with ioy + That pleasure followes paine, and blisse annoy. + Possession of thy loue is th' onely port + Wherein my hart, with feares and hopes long tost, + Each howre doth wish and long to make resort, + There to repaire the ioyes that it hath lost, + And, sitting safe, to sing in Cupids quire + That sweetest blisse is crowne of loues desire. + + BALTHAZAR, aboue. + + BAL. O sleepe, mine eyes; see not my loue prophande! + Be deafe, my ears; heare not my discontent! + Dye, hart; another ioyes what thou deseruest! + + LOR. Watch still, mine eyes, to see this loue disioyned! + Heare still, mine eares, to heare them both lament! + Liue, hart, to ioy at fond Horatios fall! + + BEL. Why stands Horatio speecheles all this while? + + HOR. The lesse I speak, the more I meditate. + + BEL. But whereon doost thou cheifely meditate? + + HOR. On dangers past and pleasures to ensue. + + BAL. On pleasures past and dangers to ensue! + + BEL. What dangers and what pleasures doost thou mean? + + HOR. Dangers of warre and pleasures of our loue. + + LOR. Dangers of death, but pleasures none at all! + + BEL. Let dangers goe; thy warre shall be with me, + But such a [warre] as breakes no bond of peace. + Speake thou faire words, Ile crosse them with faire words; + Send thou sweet looks, Ile meet them with sweet looks; + Write louing lines, Ile answere louing lines; + Giue me a kisse, Ile counterchecke thy kisse: + Be this our warring peace, or peacefull warre. + + HOR. But, gratious madame, then appoint the field + Where triall of this warre shall first be made. + + BAL. Ambitious villaine, how his boldenes growes! + + BEL. Then be thy fathers pleasant bower in the field, -- + Where first we vowd a mutuall amitie. + The court were dangerous; that place is safe. + Our howre shalbe when Vesper ginnes to rise, + That summons home distresfull trauellers. + There none shall heare vs but the harmeles birds: + Happelie the gentle nightingale + Shall carroll vs a-sleepe ere we be ware, + And, singing wit the prickle at her breast, + Tell our delight and mirthfull dalliance. + Till then, each houre will seeme a yeere and more. + + HOR. But, honie-sweet and honorable loue, + Returne we now into your fathers sight; + Dangerous suspition waits on our delight. + + LOR. I, danger mixt with iealous despite + Shall send thy soule into eternalle night! + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT II. SCENE 3.] + + [The Spanish court.] + + Enter the KING OF SPAINE, PORTINGALE + EMBASSADOUR, DON CIPRIAN, &c. + + KING. Brother of Castille, to the princes loue + What saies your daughter Bel-imperia? + + CIP. Although she coy it, as becomes her kinde, + And yet dissemble that she loues the prince, + I doubt not, I, but she will stoope in time; + And, were she froward, -- which she will not be, -- + Yet heerin shall she follow my aduice, + Which is to loue him or forgoe my loue. + + KING. Then, lord embassadour of Portingale, + Aduise thy king to make this marriage vp + For strengthening of our late-confirmed league; + I know no better meanes to make vs freends. + Her dowry shall be large and liberall; + Besides that she is daughter and halfe heire + Vnto our brother heere, Don Ciprian, + And shall enioy the moitie of his land, + Ile grace her marriage with an vnckles gift, + And this is it: in case the match goe forward, + The tribute which you pay shalbe releast; + And, if by Balthazar she haue a sonne, + He shall enioy the kingdome after vs. + + EMBAS. Ile make the motion to my soueraigne liege, + And worke it if my counsaile may preuaile. + + KING. Doe so, my lord; and, if he giue consent, + I hope his presence heere will honour vs + In celebration of the nuptiall day, -- + And let himselfe determine of the time. + + EM. Wilt please your Grace command me ought besid? + + KING. Commend me to the king; and so, farewell! + But wheres Prince Balthazar, to take his leaue? + + EM. That is perfourmd alreadie, my good lord. + + KING. Amongst the rest of what you haue in charge, + The princes raunsome must not be forgot: + Thats none of mine, but his that tooke him prisoner, -- + And well his forwardnes deserues reward: + It was Horatio, our knight-marshalls sonne. + + EM. Betweene vs theres a price already pitcht, + And shall be send with all conuenient speed. + + KING. Then once againe farewell, my lord! + + EM. Farwell, my lord of Castile, and the rest! + + Exit. + + KING. Now, brother, you must make some little paines + To winne faire Bel-imperia from her will; + Young virgins must be ruled by their freends. + The prince is amiable, and loues her well; + If she neglect him and forgoe his loue, + She both will wrong her owne estate and ours. + Therefore, whiles I doe entertaine the prince + With greatest pleasure that our court affoords, + Endeauor you to winne your daughters thought. + If she giue back, all this will come to naught. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT II. SCENE 4.] + + [HORATIO's garden.] + + Enter HORATIO, BEL-IMPERIA, and PEDRINGANO. + + HOR. Now that the night begins with sable wings + To ouer-cloud the brightnes of the sunne, + And that in darkenes pleasures may be done, + Come, Bel-imperia, let vs to the bower, + And there is safetie passe a pleasant hower. + + BEL. I follow thee, my loue, and will not backe, + Although my fainting hart controles my soule. + + HOR. Why, make you doubt of Pedringanos faith? + + BEL. No; he is as trustie as my second selfe. + Goe, Pedringano, watch without the gate, + And let vs known if any make approach. + + PED. [aside] In-steed of watching, Ile deserue more golde + By fetching Don Lorenzo to this match. + + Exit PED[RINGANO]. + + HOR. What means my loue? + + BEL. I know not what, my-selfe; + And yet my hart foretels me some some mischaunce. + + HOR. Sweet, say not so; faire Fortune is our freend, + And heauens haue shut vp day to pleasure vs. + The starres, thou seest, holde back their twinckling shine + And Luna hides her-selfe to pleasure vs. + + BEL. Thou hast preuailed! Ile conquer my misdoubt, + And in thy loue and councell drowne my feare. + I feare no more; loue now is all my thoughts! + Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease. + + HOR. The more thou sitst within these leauy bowers, + The more will Flora decke it with her flowers. + + BEL. I; but, if Flora spye Horatio heere, + Her iealous eye will think I sit too neere. + + HOR. Harke, madame, how the birds record by night, + For ioy that Bel-imperia sits in sight! + + BEL. No; Cupid counterfeits the nightingale, + To frame sweet musick to Horatios tale. + + HOR. If Cupid sing, then Venus is not farre, -- + I, thou art Venus, or some fairer starre! + + BEL. If I be Venus, thou must needs be Mars; + And where Mars raigneth, there must needs be warres. + + HOR. Then thus begin our wars: put forth thy hand, + That it may combat with my ruder hand. + + BEL. Set forth thy foot to try the push of mine. + + HOR. But, first, my lookes shall combat against thee. + + BEL. Then ward thy-selfe! I dart this kiss as thee. + + HOR. Thus I [return] the dart thou threwest at me! + + BEL. Nay then, to gaine the glory of the field, + My twining armes shall yoake and make thee yeeld. + + HOR. Nay then, my armes are large and strong withall: + Thus elmes by vines are compast till they fall. + + BEL. O, let me goe, for in my troubled eyes + Now maist thou read that life in passion dies! + + HOR. O, stay a-while, and I will dye with thee; + So shalt thou yeeld, and yet haue conquerd me. + + BEL. Whose there? Pedringano? We are betraide! + + Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, CERBERIN, + PEDRINGANO, disguised. + + LOR. My lord, away with her! take her aside! + O sir, forbeare, your valour is already tride. + Quickly dispatch, my maisters. + + Th[e]y hang him in the arbor. + + HOR. What, will you murder me? + + LOR. I; thus! and thus! these are the fruits of loue! + + They stab him. + + BEL. O, saue his life, and let me dye for him! + O, saue him, brother! saue him, Balthazar! + I loued Horatio, but he loued not me. + + BAL. But Balthazar loues Bel-imperia. + + LOR. Although his life were still ambitious, proud, + Yet is he at the highest now he is dead. + + BEL. Murder! murder! helpe! Hieronimo, helpe! + + LOR. Come, stop her mouth! away with her! + + Exeunt. + + Enter HIERONIMO in his shirt, &c. + + HIERO. What outcried pluck me from my naked bed, + And chill my throbbing hart with trembling feare, + Which neuer danger yet could daunt before? + Who cals Hieronimo? speak; heare I am! + I did not slumber; therefore twas no dreame. + No, no; it was some woman cride for helpe. + And heere within this garden did she crie, + And in this garden must I rescue her. + But stay! what murderous spectacle is this? + A man hanged vp, and all the murderers gone! + And in the bower, to lay the guilt on me! + This place was made for pleasure not for death. + + He cuts him downe. + + Those garments that he weares I oft haue seene, -- + Alas! it is Horatio, my sweet sonne! + O, no; but he that whilome was my sonne! + O, was it thou that call'dst me from my bed? + O, speak, if any sparke of life remaine! + I am thy father. Who hath slaine my sonne? + What sauadge monster, not of humane kinde, + Hath heere beene glutted with thy harmeles blood, + And left they bloudie corpes dishonoured heere, + For me amidst these darke and dreadfull shades + To drowne thee with an ocean of my teares? + O heauens, why made you night, to couer sinne? + By day this deed of darknes had not beene. + O earth, why didst thou not in time deuoure + The [vile] prophaner of this sacred bower? + O poore Horatio, what hadst thou misdoone + To leese thy life ere life was new begun? + O wicked butcher, what-so-ere thou wert, + How could thou strangle vertue and desert? + Ay me, most wretched! that haue lost my ioy + In leesing my Horatio, my sweet boy! + + Enter ISABELL. + + ISA. My husbands absence makes my hart to throb. + Hieronimo! + + HIERO. Heere, Isabella. Helpe me to lament; + For sighes are stopt, and all my teares are spent. + + ISA. What worlde of griefe -- my sonne Horatio! + O wheres the author of this endles woe? + + HIERO. To know the author were some ease of greefe, + For in reuenge my hart would finde releefe. + + ISA. Then is he gone? and is my sonne gone too? + O, gush out, teares! fountains and flouds of teares! + Blow, sighes, and raise and euerlasting storme; + For outrage fits our cursed wretchedness. + + HIERO. Sweet louely rose, ill pluckt before thy time! + Faire, worthy sonne, not conquerd, but betraid! + Ile kisse thee now, for words with teares are [stainde]. + + ISA. And Ile close vp the glasses of his sight; + For once these eyes were onely my delight. + + HIERO. Seest thou this handkercher besmerd with blood? + It shall not from me till I take reuenge; + Seest thou those wounds that yet are bleeding fresh? + Ile not intombe them till I haue reueng'd: + Then will I ioy amidst my discontent, + Till then, my sorrow neuer shalbe spent. + + ISA. The heauens are iust, murder cannot be hid; + Time is the author of both truth and right, + And time will bring this trecherie to light. + + HIERO. Meane-while, good Isabella, cease thy plaints, + Or, at the least, dissemble them awhile; + So shall we sooner finde the practise out, + And learne by whome all this was brought about. + Come, Isabell, now let vs take him vp. + + They take him vp. + + And beare him in from out this cursed place. + Ile say his dirge, -- singing fits not this case. + O aliquis mihi quas pulchrum ver educet herbas + + HIERO[NIMO] sets his brest vnto his sword. + + Misceat, et nostro detur medicina dolori; + Aut siqui faciunt annorum obliuia succos + Prebeat; ipse metam megnum quaecunque per orbem + Gramina sol pulchras eiecit lucis in oras. + Ipse bibam quicquid meditatur saga veneni, + Quicquid et irarum ui caeca nenia nectit. + Omnia perpetiar, lethum quoque, dum semel omnis + Nost in extincto moriatur pectore sensus. + Ergo tua perpetuus speeliuit limunia somnus? + Emoriar tecum: sic, sic iuuat ire sub vmbras! + Attamen absistam properato cedere letho, + Ne mortem vindicta tuam tum nulla sequatur. + + Heere he throwes it from him and beares the + body away. + + [CHORUS.] + + ANDREA. Broughtst thou me hether to increase my paine? + I lookt that Balthazar should haue been slaine; + But tis my freend Horatio that is slaine, + And they abuse faire Bel-imperia, + On whom I doted more then all the world, + Because she lou'd me more then all the world. + + REUENGE. Thou talkest of haruest, when the corne is greene; + The end is [growne] of euery worke well done; + The sickle comes not till the corne be ripe. + Be still, and, ere I lead thee from this place, + Ile shew thee Balthazar in heauy case. + + + +ACTUS TERTIUS. +[ACT III. SCENE 1.] + + [The Portuguese court.] + + Enter VICEROY OF PORTINGALE, NOBLES, ALEXANDRO, + VILLUPPO. + + VICEROY. Infortunate condition of kings, + Seated amidst so many helples doubts! + First,we are plast vpon extreamest height, + And oft supplanted with exceeding hate, + But euer subiect to the wheele of chance; + And at our highest neuer ioy we so + As we doubt and dread our ouerthrow. + So striueth not the waues with sundry winds + As fortune toyleth in the affaires of kings, + That would be feard, yet feare to be beloued, + Sith feare and loue to kings is flatterie. + For instance, lordings, look vpon your king, + By hate depriued of his dearest sonne, + The only hope of our successiue line. + + NOB. I had not thought that Alexandros hart + Had beene enuenomde with such extreame hate; + But now I see that words haue seuerall workes, + And theres no credit in the countenance. + + VIL. No, for, my lord, had you beholde the traine + That fained loue had coloured in his lookes + When he in campe consorted Balthazar, + Farre more inconstant had you thought the sunne, + That howerly coasts the center of the earth, + Then Alexandros purpose to the prince. + + VICE. No more, Villuppo! thou hast said enough, + And with thy words thou saiest our wounded thoughts. + Nor shall I longer dally with the world, + Procrastinating Alexandros death. + Goe, some of you, and fetch the traitor forth, + That, as he is condemned, he may dye. + + Enter ALEXANDRO, with a NOBLE-MAN and + HALBERTS. + + NOB. In such extreames will nought but patience serue. + + ALEX. But in extreames what patience shall I vse? + Nor discontents it me to leaue the world, + With whome there nothing can preuaile but wrong. + + NOB. Yet hope the best. + + ALEX. Tis heauen my hope: + As for the earth, it is too much infect + To yeeld me hope of any of her mould. + + VICE. Why linger ye? bring froth that daring feend, + And let him die for his accursed deed. + + ALEX. Not that I feare the extremitie of death -- + For nobles cannot stoop to seruile feare -- + Doo I, O king, thus discontented liue; + But this, O this, torments my labouring soule, + That thus I die suspected of a sinne + Whereof, as Heauens haue knowne my secret thoughts, + So am I free from this suggestion! + + VICE. No more, I say; to the tortures! when? + Binde him, and burne his body in those flames, + + They binde him to the stake. + + That shall prefigure those vnquenched fiers + Of Phlegiton prepared for his soule. + + ALEX. My guiltles death will be aueng'd on thee! + On thee, Villuppo, that hath malisde thus, + Or for thy meed hast falsely me accusde! + + VIL. Nay, Alexandro, if thou menace me, + Ile lend a hand to send thee to the lake + Where those thy words shall perish with thy workes, + Iniurious traitour, monstrous homicide! + + Enter EMBASSADOUR. + + [EM.] Stay! hold a-while! and heer, with pardon of + His Maiestie, lay hands vpon Villuppo! + + VICE. Embassadour, what newes nath vrg'd this sodain + entrance? + + EM. Know, soueraigne l[ord], that Balthazar doth liue. + + VICE. What saiest thou? liueth Balthazar, our sonne? + + EM. Your Highnes sonne, L[ord] Balthazar doth liue, + And, well intreated in the court of Spaine, + Humbly commends him to your Maiestie. + These eies beheld; and these my followers, + With these, the letters of the kings commend, + + Giues him letters + + Are happie witnesses of his Highnes health. + + The KING lookes on the letters, and proceeds. + + VICE. [reads] "Thy sonne doth liue; your tribute is receiu'd; + Thy peace is made, and we are satisfied. + The rest resolue vpon as things proposde + For both our honors and they benefite." + + EM. These are his Highnes farther articles. + + He giues him more letters. + + VICE. Accursed wrech to intimate these ills + Against the life and reputation + Of noble Alexandro! come, my lord, vnbinde him! + [To ALEXANDRO] Let him vnbinde thee that is bounde to death, + To make a quitall for thy discontent. + + They vnbinde him. + + ALEX. Dread lord, in kindnes you could do no lesse, + Vpon report of such a damned fact; + But thus we see our innocence hath sau'd + The hopeles like which thou, Villuppo, sought + By thy suggestions to haue massacred. + + VICE. Say, false Villuppo, wherefore didst thou thus + Falsely betray Lord Alexandros life? + Him whom thou knowest that no vnkindenes els + But euen the slaughter of our deerest sonne + Could once haue moued vs to haue misconceaued. + + ALEX. Say, trecherous Villuppo; tell the King! + Or wherein hath Alexandro vsed thee ill? + + VIL. Rent with remembrance of so foule a deed, + My guiltie soule submits me to thy doome, + For, not for Alexandros iniuries, + But for reward and hope to be preferd, + Thus haue I shamelesly hazarded his life. + + VICE. Which, villaine, shalbe ransomed with thy death, + And not so meane a torment as we heere + Deuised for him who thou saidst slew our sonne, + But with the bitterest torments and extreames + That may be yet inuented for thine end. + + ALEX[ANDRO] seemes to intreat. + + Intreat me not! Goe, take the traitor hence! + + Exit VILLUPPO. + + And, Alexandro, let vs honor thee + With publique notice of thy loyaltie. + To end those things articulated heere + By our great l[ord], the mightie king of Spaine, + We with our councell will deliberate. + Come, Alexandro, keepe vs company. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 2.] + + [Spain: near the DUKE's castle.] + + Enter HIERONIMO. + + HIERO. Oh eies! no eies but fountains fraught with teares; + Oh life! no life, but liuely fourme of death; + Oh world! no world, but masse of publique wrongs, + Confusde and filde with murder and misdeeds; + Oh sacred heauens, if this vnhallowed deed, + If this inhumane and barberous attempt, + If this incomparable murder thus + Of mine, but now no more my sonne + Shall pass vnreueald and vnreuenged passe, + How should we tearme your dealings to be iust, + If you vniustly deale with those that in your iustice trust? + The night, sad secretary to my mones, + With direfull visions wake my vexed soule, + And with the wounds of my distresfull sonne + Solicite me for notice of his death; + The ougly feends do sally forth of hell, + And frame my hart with fierce inflamed thoughts; + The cloudie day my discontents records, + Early begins to regester my dreames + And driue me forth to seeke the murtherer. + Eies, life, world, heauens, hel, night and day, + See, search, show, send, some man, some meane, that may! + + A letter falleth. + + Whats heere? a letter? Tush, it is not so! + A letter for Hieronimo. + [Reads] "For want of incke receiue this bloudie writ. + Me hath my haples brother hid from thee. + Reuenge thy-selfe on Balthazar and him, + For these were they that murdered thy sonne. + Hieronimo, reuenge Horatios death, + And better fare then Bel-imperia doth!" -- + What meanes this vnexpected miracle? + My sonne slaine by Lorenzo and the prince? + What cause had they Horatio to maligne? + Or what might mooue thee, Bel-imperia, + To accuse they brother, had he beene the meane? + Hieronimo, beware! thou art betraide, + And to intrap they life this traine is laide. + Aduise thee therefore, be not credulous: + This is deuised to endanger thee, + That thou, by this, Lorenzo shoulst accuse. + And he, for thy dishonour done, show draw + Thy life in question and thy name in hate. + Deare was the life of my beloved sonne, + And of his death behoues me to be aueng'd: + Then hazard not thine own, Hieronimo, + But liue t'effect thy resolution! + I therefore will by circumstances trie + What I can gather to confirme this writ, + And, [harken] neere the Duke of Castiles house, + Close if I can with Belimperia, + To listen more, but nothing to bewray. + + Enter PEDRINGANO. + + Now, Predringano! + + PED. Now, Hieronimo! + + HIERO. Wheres thy lady? + + PED. I know not; heers my lord. + + Enter LORENZO. + + LOR. How now, whose this? Hieronimo? + + HIERO. My lord. + + PED. He asketh me for my lady Bel-imperia. + + LOR. What to doo, Hieronimo? Vse me. + +[Dialogue from the undated and the 'A' manuscript.] + + HIERO. Oh, no, my lord, I dare not, it must not be; + I humbly thank your lordship. + +[End of insertion.] + +[Dialogue from the 1618, 1623, and 1633 editions.] + + HIERO. Who? You, my lord? + I reserue your favour for a greater honour; + This is a very toy, my lord, a toy. + + LOR. All's one, Hieronimo; acquaint me with it. + + HIERO. Y faith, my lord, tis an idle thing. + I must confesse I ha bin too slacke, too tardy, + To remisse vnto your Honour. + + LOR. How now, Hieronimo? + + HIERO. In troth, my lord, it is a thing of nothing: + The murder of a sonne or so, my lord, -- + A thing of nothing. + +[End of insertion.] + + LOR. Why then, farewell! + + HIERO. My griefe in hart, my thoughts no tung can tell. + + Exit. + + LOR. Come hither, Pedringano; seest thou this? + + PED. My lord, I see it, and suspect it too. + + LOR. This is that damned villain Serberine, + That hath, I feare, reuealde Horatios death. + + PED. My lord, he could not; twas so lately done, + And since he hath not left my company. + + LOR. Admit he haue not; his conditions such + As feare or flattering words may make him false. + I know his humour, and there-with repent + That ere I vsde him in this enterprise. + But, Pedringano, to preuent the worst, + And cause I know thee secret as my soule, + Heere, for thy further satisfaction, take thou this! + + Giues him more golde. + + And harken to me; thus it is deuisde: + This night thou must -- and prithee so resoule -- + Meet Serberine at St. Luigis Parke, -- + Thou knowest tis heere hard by behinde the house; + There take thy stand, and see thou strike him sure, + For dye he must, if we do meane to liue. + + PED. But how shall Serberine be there, my lord? + + LOR. Let me alone, Ile send him to meet + The prince and me where thou must doe this deed. + + PED. It shalbe done, my l[ord]; it shall be done; + And Ile goe arme my-selfe to meet him there. + + LOR. When things shall alter, as I hope they wil, + Then shalt thou mount for this, thou knowest my minde. + + Exit PED[RINGANO]. + + Che le Ieron! + + Enter PAGE. + + PAGE. My lord. + + LOR. Goe, sirra, + To Serberine, and bid him forthwith meet + The prince and me at S. Luigis Parke, + Behinde the house, this euening, boy. + + PAGE. I goe, my lord. + + LOR. But, sirra, let the houre be eight a-clocke. + Bid him not faile. + + PAGE. I flye, my lord. + + Exit. + + LOR. Now to confirme the complot thou hast cast + Of all these practices, Ile spread the watch, + Vpon precise commandement from the king + Strongly to guard the place where Pedringano + This night shall murder haples Serberine. + Thus must we worke that will auoide distrust, + Thus must we practice to preuent mishap, + And thus one ill another must expulse. + This slie enquiry of Hieronimo + For Bel-imperia, breeds suspition; + And [thus] suspition boads a further ill. + As for my-selfe, I know my secret fault, + And so doe they, but I haue dealt for them. + They that for coine their soules endangered + To saue my life, for coyne shall venture theirs; + And better tis that base companions dye + Then by their life to hazard our good haps. + Nor shall they liue for me to feare their faith; + Ile trust my-selfe, my-selfe shall be my freend; + For dye they shall, -- + Slaues are ordein[e]d to no other end. + + Exit. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 3.] + + [San Luigi's Park.] + + Enter PEDRINGANO with a pistoll. + + PED. Now, Pedringano, bid thy pistoll holde; + And holde on, Fortune! Once more fauour me! + Giue but successe to mine attempting spirit, + And let me shift for taking of mine aime. + Heere is the golde! This is the golde proposde! + It is no dreame that I aduenture for, + But Pedringano is possest thereof. + And he that would not straine his conscience + For him that thus his liberall purse hath sretcht, + Vnworthy such a fauour may he faile, + And, wishing, want when such as I preuaile! + As for the feare of apprehension, + I know, if need should be, my noble lord + Will stand betweene me and ensuing harmes. + Besides, this place is free from all suspect. + Heere therefore will I stay and take my stand. + + Enter the WATCH. + + I WATCH. I wonder much to what intent it is + That we are thus expresly chargd to watch. + + II WATCH. This by commandement in the kings own + name. + + III WATCH. But we were neuer wont to watch and ward + So neere the duke his brothers house before. + + II WATCH. Content your-selfe, stand close, theres somewhat + int. + + Enter SERBERINE. + + SER. [aside] Heere, Serberine, attend and stay thy pace; + For heere did Don Lorenzos page appoint + That thou by his command shouldst meet with him. + How fit a place, if one were so disposde, + Me thinks this corner is to close with one. + + PED. [aside] Heere comes the bird that I must ceaze vpon; + Now, Pedringano, or neuer play the man! + + SER. [aside] I wonder that his lordship staies so long, + Or wherefore should he send for me so late. + + PED. For this, Serberine; and thou shalt ha'te! + + Shootes the dagge. + + So, there he lyes; my promise is performde. + + The WATCH. + + I WATCH. Harke, gentlemen, this is a pistol shot! + + II WATCH. And heeres one slaine; stay the murderer! + + PED. Now, by the sorrowes of the soules in hell, + + He striues with the WATCH. + + Who first laies hands on me, Ile be his priest! + + III WATCH. Sirra, confesse, and therein play the priest. + Why hast thou thus vnkindely kild the man? + + PED. Why, because he walkt abroad so late. + + III WATCH. Come sir, you had bene better kept your bed + Then haue committed this misdeed so late. + + II WATCH. Come to the marshalls with the murderer! + + I WATCH. On to Hieronimos! helpe me heere + To bring the murdred body with vs too. + + PED. Hieronimo? Carry me before whom you will; + What ere he be, Ile answere him and you. + And doe your worst, for I defie you all! + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 4.] + + [The DUKE's castle] + + Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR. + + BAL. How now, my lord? what makes you rise so soone? + + LOR. Feare of preuenting our mishaps too late. + + BAL. What mischiefe is it that we not mistrust? + + LOR. Our greatest ils we least mistrust, my lord, + And [unexpected] harmes do hurt vs most. + + BAL. Why, tell me, Don Lorenz, -- tell me, man, + If ought concernes our honor and your owne! + + LOR. Nor you nor me, my lord, but both in one; + But I suspect -- and the presumptions great -- + That by those base confederates in our fault + Touching the death of Don Horatio + We are all betraide to olde Hieronimo. + + BAL. Betraide, Lorenzo? tush! it cannot be. + + LOR. A guiltie conscience vrged with the thought + Of former euils, easily cannot erre: + I am perswaded -- and diswade me not -- + That als reuealed to Hieronimo. + And therefore know that I haue cast it thus -- + + [Enter PAGE.] + + But heeres the page. How now? what newes with thee? + + PAGE. My lord, Serberine is slaine. + + BAL. Who? Serberine, my man? + + PAGE. Your Highnes man, my lord. + + LOR. Speak, page: who murdered him? + + PAGE. He that is apprehended for the fact. + + LOR. Who? + + PAGE. Pedringano. + + BAL. Is Serberine slaine, that lou'd his lord so well? + Iniurious villaine! murderer of his freend! + + LOR. Hath Pedringano murdered Serberine? + My lord, let me entreat you to take the paines + To exasperate and hasten his reuenge + With your complaints vnto my l[ord] the king. + This their dissention breeds a greater doubt. + + BAL. Assure thee, Don Lorenzo, he shall dye, + Or els his Highnes hardly shall deny. + Meane-while, Ile haste the marshall sessions, + For die he shall for this damned deed. + + Exit BALT[HAZAR]. + + LOR. [aside] Why, so! this fits our former pollicie; + And thus experience bids the wise and deale. + I lay the plot, he prosecutes the point; + I set the trap, he breakes the worthles twigs, + And sees not that wherewith the bird was limde. + Thus hopefull men, that means to holde their owne, + Must look, like fowlers, to their dearest freends. + He runnes to kill whome I haue hope to catch, + And no man knowes it was my reaching [fetch]. + Tis hard to trust vnto a multitude, -- + Or any one, in mine opinion, + When men themselues their secrets will reueale. + + Enter a MESSENGER with a letter. + + LOR. Boy. + + PAGE. My lord. + + LOR. Whats he? + + MES. I haue a letter to your lordship. + + LOR. From whence? + + MES. From Pedringanos that's imprisoned. + + LOR. So he is in prison then? + + MES. I, my good lord. + + LOR. What would he with vs? + + [Reads the letter.] + + He writes vs heere + To stand good l[ord] and help him in distres. + Tell him I haue his letters, know his minde; + And what we may, let him assure him of. + Fellow, be gone; my boy shall follow thee. + + Exit MES[SENGER]. + + [Aside] This works like waxe! Yet once more try thy wits. -- + Boy, goe conuay this purse to Pedringano, -- + Thou knowest the prison, -- closely giue it him, + And be aduisde that none here there-about. + Bid him be merry still, but secret; + And, though the marshall sessions be to-day, + Bid him not doubt of his deliuerie. + Tell him his pardon is already signde, + And thereon bid him boldely be resolued; + For, were he ready to be turned off, -- + As tis my will the vttermost be tride, -- + Thou with his pardon shalt attend him still. + Shew him this boxe, tell him his pardons int; + But opent not, and if thou louest thy life, + But let him wisely keepe his hopes vnknowne. + He shall not want while Don Lorenzo liues. + Away! + + PAGE. I goe, my lord, I runne! + + LOR. But, sirra, see that this be cleanely done. + + Exit PAGE. + + Now stands our fortune on a tickle point, + And now or neuer ends Lorenzos doubts. + One only thing is vneffected yet, + And thats to see the executioner, -- + But to what end? I list not trust the aire + With vtterance of our pretence therein, + For feare the priuie whispring of the winde + Conuay our words amongst vnfreendly eares, + That lye too open to aduantages. + Et quel che voglio io, nessun lo sa, + Intendo io quel [che] mi bastera. + + Exit. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 5.] + + [A street.] + + Enter BOY with the boxe. + + [BOY.] My maister hath forbidden me to look in this box, and, by my troth, +tis likely, if he had not warned me, I should not haue had so much idle time; +for wee [men-kinde] in our minoritie are like women in their vncertaintie; +that they are most forbidden, they wil soonest attempt; so I now. By my bare +honesty, heeres nothing but the bare emptie box! Were it not sin against +secrecie, I would say it were a peece of gentlemanlike knauery. I must goe to +Pedringano and tell him his pardon is in this boxe! Nay, I would haue sworne +it, had I not seene the contrary. I cannot choose but smile to thinke how the +villain wil flout the gallowes, scorne the audience, and descant on the +hangman, and all presuming of his pardon from hence. Wilt not be an odde +iest, for me to stand and grace euery iest he makes, pointing my figner at +this boxe, as who [should] say: "Mock on, heers thy warrant!" Ist not a +scuruie iest that a man should iest himselfe to death? Alas, poor Pedringano! +I am in a sorte sorie for thee, but, if I should be hanged with thee, I [could +not] weep. + + Exit. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 6.] + + [The court of justice.] + + Enter HIERONIMO and the DEPUTIE. + + HIERO. Thus must we toyle in others mens extreames + That know not how to rememdie our owne, + And doe them iusties, when vniustly we + For all our wrongs can compasse no redrese. + But shall I neuer liue to see the day + That I may come by iustice to the Heauens + To know the cause that may my cares allay? + This toyles my body, this consumeth age, + That onley I to all men iust must be, + And neither gods nor men be iust to me! + + DEP. Worthy Hieronimo, your office askes + A care to punish such as doe transgresse. + + HIERO. So ist my duety to regarde his death + Who when he liued deserued my dearest blood. + But come; for that we came for, lets begin; + For heere lyes that which bids me to be gone. + + Enter OFFICERS, BOY, & PEDRINGANO with a letter + in his hand, bound. + + DEPU. Bring forth the prisoner for the court is set. + + PED. Gramercy, boy! but it was time to come, + For I had written to my lord anew + A neerer matter that concerneth him, + For feare his lordship had forgotten me; + But, sith he hath rememberd me so well, + Come, come, come on! when shall we to this geere? + + HIERO. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men, + And heere, for satisfaction of the world, + Confesse thy folly and repent thy fault, + For ther's thy place of execution. + + PED. This is short worke! Well, to your martiallship + First I confesse, nor feare I death therefore, + I am the man, -- twas I slew Serberine. + But, sir, then you think this shalbe the place + Where we shall satisfie you for this geare? + + DEPU. I, Pedrigano. + + PED. No I think not so. + + HEIRO. Peace, impudent! for thou shalt finde it so; + For blood with blood shall, while I sit as iudge, + Be satisfied, and the law dischargde. + And, though my-selfe cannot receiue the like, + Yet will I see that others haue their right. + Dispatch! the fault approued and confest, + And by our law he is condemned to die. + + HANG. Come on, sir! are you ready? + + PED. To do what, my fine officious knaue? + + HANG. To goe to this geere. + + PED. O, sir, you are to forward; thou woulst faine + furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit. + So should I goe out of this geere, my raiment, into that + geere, the rope. But, hangman, now I spy your knauery, Ile + not change without boot; thats flat. + + HANG. Come, sir. + + PED. So then I must vp? + + HANG. No remedie. + + PED. Yes, but there shalbe for my comming downe. + + HANG. Indeed heers a remedie for that. + + PED. How? be turnd off? + + HANG. I, truly. Come, are you ready? + I pray [you], sir, dispatch, the day goes away. + + PED. What, doe you hang by the howre? If you doo, I + may chance to break your olde custome. + + HANG. Faith, you haue [no] reason, for I am like to break + your yong neck. + + PED. Dost thou mock me, hangman? Pray God I be not + preserued to break your knaues-pate for this! + + HANG. Alas, sir, you are a foot too low to reach it, and I + hope you will neuer grow so high while I am in office. + + PED. Sirra, dost see yonder boy with the box in his + hand? + + HANG. What, he that points to it with his finger? + + PED. I, that companion. + + HANG. I know him not; but what of him? + + PED. Doost thou think to liue till his olde doublet will + make thee a new truss? + + HANG. I, and many a faire yeere after, to trusse vp many + an honester man then either thou or he. + + PED. What hath he in his boxe, as thou thinkst? + + HANG. Faith, I cannot tell, nor I care not greatly. + Me thinks you should rather hearken to your soules health. + + PED. Why, sirra hangman, I take it that that is good for + the body is likewise good for the soule: and it may be in + that box is balme for both. + + HANG. Wel, thou art euen the meriest peece of mans + flesh that ere gronde at my office-doore. + + PED. Is your roaguery become an office, with a knaues + name? + + HANG. I, and that shall all they witnes that see you seale + it with a theeues name. + + PED. I prithee, request this good company to pray [for] + me. + + HANG. I, mary, sir, this is a good motion! My maisters, + you see heers a good fellow. + + PED. Nay, nay, now I remember me, let them alone till + some other time; for now I haue no great need. + + HIERO. I haue not seen a wretch so impudent. + O monstrous times where murders are so light, + And where the soule that should be shrinde in heauen + Solelie delights in interdicted things, + Still wandring in the thornie passages + That intercepts it-selfe of hapines! + Murder? O bloudy monster! God forbid + A fault so foule should scape vnpunished! + Dispatch and see this execution done; + This makes me to remember thee, my sonne. + + Exit HIERO[NIMO]. + + PED. Nay, soft! no hast! + + DEPU. Why, wherefore stay you? haue you hope of life? + + PED. Why, I? + + HANG. As how? + + PED. Why, rascall, by my pardon from the king. + + HANG. Stand you on that? then you shall off with this. + + He turnes him off. + + DEPU. So, executioner, conuey him hence; + But let his body be vnburied. + Let not the earth be chokt or infect + What that which Heauens contemnes and men neglect. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 7.] + + [HIERONIMO's house.] + + Enter HIERONIMO. + +HIER. Where shall I run to breath abroad my woes, -- + My woes whose weight hath wearied the earth, + Or mine exclaimes that haue surcharged the aire + With ceasles plaints for my deceased sonne? + The blustring winds, conspiring with my words, + At my lament haue moued to leaueless trees, + Disroabde the medowes of their flowred greene, + Made mountains marsh with spring-tides of my teares, + And broken through the brazen gates of hell; + Yet still tormented is my tortured soule + With broken sighes and restles passions, + That, winged, mount, and houering in the aire, + Beat at the windowes of the brightest heauens, + Soliciting for iustice and reuenge. + But they are plac't in those imperiall heights, + Where, countermurde with walles of diamond, + I finde the place impregnable, and they + Resist my woes and giue my words no way. + + Enter HANGMAN with a letter. + + HANG. O Lord, sir! God blesse you, sir! The man, sir, -- + Petergade, sir: he that was so full of merie conceits -- + + HIER. Wel, what of him? + + HANG. O Lord, sir! he went the wrong way; the fellow + had a faire commission to the contrary. Sir, heere is his + pasport, I pray you, sir; we haue done him wrong. + + HIERO. I warrant thee; giue it me. + + HANG. You will stand between the gallowes and me? + + HIERO. I, I! + + HANG. I thank your l[ord] worship. + + Exit HANGMAN. + + HIERO. And yet, though somewhat neerer me concernes + I will, to ease the greefe that I sustaine, + Take truce with sorrow while I read on this. + [Reads] "My lord, I writ, as mine extreames require, + That you would labour my deliuerie: + If you neglect, my life is desperate, + And in my death I shall reueale the troth. + You know, my lord, I slew him for your sake, + And was confederate with the prince and you; + Wonne by rewards and hopefull promises, + I holpe to murder Don Horatio too." -- + Holpe he to murder mine Horatio? + And actors in th' accursed tragedie + Wast thou, Lorenzo? Bathazar and thou, + Of whome my sone, my sonne deseru'd so well? + What haue I heard? what haue mine eies behelde? + O sacred heauens, may it come to passe + That such a monstrous and detested deed, + So closely smootherd and so long conceald, + Shall thus by this be [revenged] or reuealed? + Now see I, what I durst not then suspect, + That Bel-imperias letter was not fainde, + Nor fained she, though falsly they haue wrongd + Both her, my-selfe, Horatio and themselues. + Now may I make compare twixt hers and this + Of euerie accident. I neere could finde + Till now, and now I feelingly perceiue, + They did what Heauen vnpunisht [should] not leaue. + O false Lorenzo! are these thy flattering lookes? + Is this honour that thou didst my sonne? + And, Balthazar, -- bane to thy soule and me! -- + What this the ransome he reseru'd [for thee]? + Woe to the cause of these constrained warres! + Woe to thy basenes and captiuitie! + Woe to thy birth, thy body and thy soule, + Thy cursed father, and thy conquerd selfe! + And band with bitter execrations be + The day and place where he did pittie thee! + But wherefore waste I mine vnfruitfull words, + When naught but blood will satisfie my woes? + I will goe plaine me to my lord the king, + And cry aloud for iustice through the court, + Wearing the flints with these my withered feet, + And either purchase iustice by intreats + Or tire them all with my reuenging threats. + + Exit. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 8.] + + [HIERONIMO's house.] + + Enter ISABELL and her MAID. + + ISA. So that you say this hearb will purge the [eyes], + And this the head? ah! but none of them will purge the + hart! + No, thers no medicine left for my disease, + Nor any physick to recure the dead. + + She runnes lunatick. + + Horatio! O, wheres Horatio? + + MAIDE. Good madam, affright not thus your-selfe + With outrage for your sonne Horatio; + He sleepes in quiet in the Elizian fields. + + ISA. Why did I not giue you gownes and goodly things, + Bought you a wistle and a whipstalke too, + To be reuenged on their villanies? + + MAIDE. Madame, these humors doe torment my soule. + + ISA. My soule? poore soule, thou talkes of things + Thou knowest not what! My soule hath siluer wings, + That mounts me vp vnto the highest heauens -- + To heauen? I, there sits up Horatio, + Backt with troup of fierry cherubins + Dauncing about his newly healed wounds, + Singing sweet hymns and chaunting heauenly notes, + Rare harmony to greet his innocence, + That dyde, I, dyde a mirrour in our daies! + But say, where shall I finde, the men, the murderers, + That slew Horatio? whether shall I runne + To finde them out, that murdered my sonne? + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 9.] + + [The DUKE's castle.] + + BEL-IMPERIA at a window. + + BEL. What meanes this outrage that is offred me? + What am I thus sequestred from the court? + No notice? shall I not know the cause + Of these my secret and suspitious ils? + Accursed brother! vnkinde murderer! + Why bends thou thus thy minde to martir me? + Hieronimo, why writ I of they wrongs, + Or why art thou so slack in thy reuenge? + Andrea! O Andrea, that thou sawest + Me for thy freend Horatio handled thus, + And him for me thus causeles murdered! + Well, force perforce, I must constraine my-selfe + To patience, and apply me to the time, + Till Heauen, as I haue hoped, shall set me free. + + Enter [CHRISTOPHEL.] + + CHRIS. Come, Madame Bel-imperia, this [must] not be! + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. Scene 10.] + + [A room in the DUKE's castle.] + + Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR and the PAGE. + + LOR. Boy, talke no further; thus farre things goe well. + Thou art assurde that thou sawest him dead? + + PAGE. Or els, my lord, I liue not. + + LOR. Thats enough. + As for this resolution at his end, + Leaue that to him with whom he soiourns now. + Heere, take my ring, and giue it [Christophel], + And bid him let my sister be enlarg'd, + And bring her hither straight. + + Exit PAGE. + + This that I did was for a policie, + To smooth and keepe the murder secret, + Which as a nine daies wonder being ore-blowne, + My gentle sister will I now enlarge. + + BAL. And time, Lorenzo; for my lord the duke, + You heard, enquired for her yester-night. + + LOR. Why! and, my lord, I hope you have heard me say + Sufficient reason why she kept away; + But thats all one. My lord, you loue her? + + BAL. I. + + LOR. Then in your loue beware; deale cunningly; + Salue all suspititons; only sooth me vp, + And, if she hap to stand on tearmes with vs, + As for her sweet-hart, and concealement so, + Iest with her gently; vnder fained iest + Are things concealde that els would breed vnrest. + But heere she comes. + + Enter BEL-IMPERIA. + + LOR. Now, sister. + + BEL. Sister? No! + Thou art no brother, but an enemy, + Els wouldst thou not haue vsde thy sister so: + First, to affright me with thy weapons drawne, + And with extreames abuse my company; + And then to hurry me like whirlwinds rage + Amidst a crew of thy confederates, + And clap my vp where none might come at me, + Nor I at any to reueale my wrongs. + What madding fury did possesse thy wits? + Or wherein ist that I offended thee? + + LOR. Aduise you better, Bel-imperia; + For I haue done you no disparagement, -- + Vnlesse, by more discretion then deseru'd, + I sought to saue your honour and mine owne. + + BEL. Mine honour? Why, Lorenzo, wherein ist + That I neglect my reputation so + As you, or any, need to rescue it? + + LOR. His Highnes and my father were resolu'd + To come conferre with olde Hieronimo + Concerning certaine matters of estate + That by the viceroy was determined. + + BEL. And wherein was mine honour toucht in that? + + BAL. Haue patience, Bel-imperia; heare the rest. + + LOR. Me, next in sight, as messenger they sent + To giue him notice that they were so nigh: + Now, when I came, consorted with the prince, + And vnexpected in an arbor there + Found Bel-imperia with Horatio -- + + BEL. How then? + + LOR. Why, then, remembring that olde disgrace + Which you for Don Andrea had indurde, + And now were likely longer to sustaine + By being found so meanely accompanied, + Thought rather, for I knew no readier meane, + To thrust Horatio forth my fathers way. + + BAL. And carry you obscurely some-where els, + Least that his Highnes should haue found you there. + + BEL. Euen so, my lord? And you are witnesse + That this is true which he entreateth of? + You, gentle brother, forged this for my sake? + And you, my lord, were made his instrument? + A worke of worth! worthy the noting too! + But whats the cause that you concealde me since? + + LOR. Your melancholly, sister, since the newes + Of your first fauorite Don Andreas death + My fathers olde wrath hath exasperate. + + BAL. And better wast for you, being in disgrace, + To absent your-selfe and giue his fury place. + + BEL. But why I had no notice of his ire? + + LOR. That were to adde more fewell to your fire, + Who burnt like Aetne for Andreas losse. + + BEL. Hath not my father then enquird for me? + + LOR. Sister, he hath; and this excusde I thee. + + He whispereth in her eare. + + But, Bel-imperia, see the gentle prince; + Looke on thy loue; beholde yong Balthazar, + Whose passions by the presence are increast, + And in whose melachollie thou maiest see + Thy hate, his loue, thy flight, his following thee. + + BEL. Brother, you are become an oratour -- + I know not, I, by what experience -- + Too politick for me, past all compare, + Since I last saw you. But content your-selfe; + The prince is meditating higher things. + + BAL. Tis of thy beauty, then, that conquers kings, + Of those thy tresses, Ariadnes twines, + Wherewith my libertie thou hast surprisde, + Of that thine iuorie front, my sorrowes map, + Wherein I see no hauen to rest my hope. + + BEL. To loue and feare, and both at once, my lord, + In my conceipt, are things of more import + Then womens wit are to be busied with. + + BAL. Tis that I loue thee. + + BEL. Whome? + + BAL. Bel-imperia. + + BEL. But that I feare? + + BAL. Whome? + + BEL. Bel-imperia. + + LOR. Feare your-selfe? + + BEL. I, brother. + + LOR. How? + + BEL. As those + That, [when] they loue, are loath and feare to loose. + + BAL. Then, faire, let Balthazar your keeper be. + + BEL. No, Balthazar doth feare as well as we; + Et tremulo metui pauidum iunxere timorem, + Et vanum stolidae proditionis opus. + + Exit. + + LOR. Nay, and you argue things so cunningly, + Weele goe continue this discourse at court. + + BAL. Led by the loadstar of heauenly lookes, + Wends poore oppressed Balthazar, + As ore the mountains walkes the wanderer + Incertain to effect his pilgrimage. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 11.] + + [A street.] + + Enter two PORTINGALES, and HIERONIMO + meets them. + + I PORT. By your leaue, sir. + +[The following is inserted in the 1618, 1623, and 1633 editions.] + + HIER. Tis neither as you thinke, nor as you thinke, + Nor as you thinke, you'r wide all: + These slippers are not mine, they were my sonne Horatios. + My sonne? And what's a sonne? A thing begot + Within a paire of minutes, there-about; + A lump bred up in darknesse, and doth serue + To ballance those light creatures we call women, + And at nine monethes end creepes foorth to light. + What is there yet in a sonne to make a father + Dote, rave or runne mad? Being born, it pouts, + Cries, and breeds teeth. What is there yet in a sonne? + He must be fed, be taught to goe and speake. + I, and yet? Why might not a man love + A calfe as well, or melt in passion over + A frisking kid, as for a sonne? Me thinkes + A young bacon or a fine smooth little horse-colt + Should moove a man as much as doth a son; + For one of these in very little time + Will grow to some good use, whereas a sonne, + The more he growes in stature and in yeeres, + The more unsquar'd, unlevelled he appeares, + Reckons his parents among the ranke of fooles, + Strikes cares upon their heads with his mad ryots, + Makes them looke old before they meet with age. -- + This is a son! And what a losse were this, + Considered truely! Oh, but my Horatio + Grew out of reach of those insatiate humours: + He lovd his loving parents, he was my comfort + And his mothers joy, the very arme that did + Hold up our house, our hopes were stored up in him. + None but a damned murderer could hate him! + He had not seene the backe + Of nineteene yeere, when his strong arme unhorst + The proud prince Balthazar; and his great minde, + Too full of honour tooke him unto mercy, + That valient but ignoble Portingale. + Well! Heaven is Heaven still! And there's Nemesis, and Furies, + And things called whippes, and they sometimes doe meet + With murderers! They doe not alwayes scape, -- + That is some comfort! I, I, I; and then + Time steales on, and steales and steales, till violence + Leapes foorth like thunder wrapt in a ball of fire, + And so doth bring confusion to them all. + +[End of insertion.] + + Good leaue haue you; nay, I pray you goe, + For Ile leaue you, if you can leaue me so. + + II PORT. Pray you, which is the next way to my l[ord] + the dukes? + + HIERO. The next way from me. + + I PORT. To the house, we meane. + + HIERO. O hard by; tis yon house that you see. + + II PORT. You could not tell vs if his sonne were there? + + HIERO. Who? my lord Lorenzo? + + I PORT. I, sir. + + He goeth in at one doore and comes out at another. + + HIERO. Oh, forbeare, + For other talke for vs far fitter were! + But, if you be importunate to know + The way to him and where to finde him out, + Then list to me, and Ile resolue your doubt: + There is a path vpon your left hand side + That leadeth from a guiltie conscience + Vnto a forrest of distrust and feare, -- + A darksome place and dangerous to passe, -- + There shall you meet with melancholy thoughts + Whose balefull humours if you but [behold], + It will conduct you to dispaire and death: + Whose rockie cliffes when you haue once behelde, + Within a hugie dale of lasting night, + That, kindled with worlds of iniquities, + Doth cast vp filthy and detested fumes, -- + Not far from thence where murderers haue built + A habitation for their cursed soules, + There, in a brazen caldron fixed by Iove + In his fell wrath vpon a sulpher flame, + Your-selues shall finde Lorenzo bathing him + In boyling lead and blood of innocents. + + I PORT. Ha, ha, ha! + + HIERO. Ha, ha, ha! why, ha, ha, ha! Farewell, good ha, + ha, ha! + + Exit. + + II PORT. Doubtles this man is passing lunaticke, + Or imperfection of his age doth make him dote. + Come, lets away to seek my lord the duke. + + [Exeunt.] + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 12.] + + [The Spanish court.] + + Enter HIERONIMO with a ponyard in one hand, + and a rope in the other. + + HIERO. Now, sir, perhaps I come to see the king, + The king sees me, and faine would heare my sute: + Why, is this not a strange and seld-seene thing + That standers by with toyes should strike me mute? + Go too, I see their shifts, and say no more; + Hieronimo, tis time for thee to trudge! + Downe by the dale that flowes with purple gore + Standeth a firie tower; there sits a iudge + Vpon a seat of steele and molten brasse, + And twixt his teeth he holdes afire-brand, + That leades vnto the lake where he doth stand. + Away, Hieronimo; to him be gone: + Heele doe thee iustice for Horatios death. + Turne down this path, thou shalt be with him straite; + Or this, and then thou needst not take thy breth. + This way, or that way? Soft and faire, not so! + For, if I hang or kill my-selfe, lets know + Who will reuenge Horatios murther then! + No, no; fie, no! pardon me, ile none of that: + + He flings away the dagger & halter. + + This way Ile take; and this way comes the king, + + He takes them up againe. + + And heere Ile haue a fling at him, thats flat! + And, Balthazar, Ile be with thee to bring; + And thee, Lorenzo! Heeres the king; nay, stay! + And heere, -- I, heere, -- there goes the hare away! + + Enter KING, EMBASSADOR, CASTILLE, and + LORENZO. + + KING. Now shew, embassadour, what our viceroy saith: + Hath hee receiu'd the articles we sent? + + HIERO. Iustice! O, iustice to Hieronimo! + + LOR. Back! seest thou not the king is busie? + + HIERO. O! is he so? + + KING. Who is he that interrupts our busines? + + HIERO. Not I! [aside] Hieronimo, beware! goe by, goe + by! + + EMBAS. Renowned king, he hath receiued and read + thy kingly proffers and thy promist league, + And, as a man exreamely ouer-ioyd + To heare his sonne so princely entertainde, + Whose death he had so solemnely bewailde, + This, for thy further satisfaction + And kingly loue, he kindely lets thee know: + First, for the marriage of his princely sonne + With Bel-imperia, thy beloued neece, + The newes are more delightfull to his soule + Then myrrh or incense to the offended Heauens. + In person, therefore, will be come himselfe + To see the marriage rites solemnized + And in the presence of the court of Spaine + To knit a sure [inextricable] band + Of kingly loue and euerlasting league + Betwixt the crownes of Spaine and Portingale. + There will he giue his crowne to Balthazar, + And make a queene of Bel-imperia. + + KING. Brother, how like you this our vice-roies loue? + + CAST. No doubt, my lord, it is an argument + Of honorable care to keepe his freend + And wondrous zeale to Balthazar, his sonne. + Nor am I least indebted to his Grace, + That bends his liking to my daughter thus. + + EM. Now last, dread lord, heere hath his Highnes sent -- + Although he send not that his sonne returne -- + His ransome doe to Don Horatio. + + HIERO. Horatio? who cals Horatio? + + KING. And well remembred, thank his Maiestie! + Heere, see it giuen to Horatio. + + HIERO. Iustice! O iustice! iustice, gentle king! + + KING. Who is that? Hieronimo? + + HIERO. Iustice! O iustice! O my sonne! my sonne! + My sonne, whom naught can ransome or redeeme! + + LOR. Hieronimo, you are not well aduisde. + + HIERO. Away, Lorenzo! hinder me no more, + For thou hast made me bankrupt of my blisse! + Giue me my sonne! You shall not ransome him! + Away! Ile rip the bowels of the earth, + + He diggeth with his dagger. + + And ferrie ouer th' Elizian plaines + And bring my sonne to shew his deadly wounds. + Stand from about me! Ile make a pickaxe of my poniard, + And heere surrender vp my marshalship; + For Ile goe marshall vp the feends in hell, + To be auenged on you all for this. + + KING. What means this outrage? + Will none of you restraine his fury? + + HIERO. Nay, soft and faire; you shall not need to striue! + Needs must he goe that the diuels driue. + + Exit. + + KING. What accident hath hapt [to] Hieronimo? + I haue not seene him to demeane him so. + + LOR. My gratious lord, he is with extreame pride + Conceiued of yong Horatio, his sonne, + And couetous of hauing himselfe + The ransome of the yong prince, Balthazar, + Distract, and in a manner lunatick. + + KING. Beleeue me, nephew, we are sorie for 't; + This is the loue that fathers beare their sonnes. + But, gentle brother, goe giue to him this golde, + The princes raunsome; let him haue his due; + For what he hath, Horatio shall not want. + Happily Hieronimo hath need thereof. + + LOR. But if he be thus helpelesly distract, + Tis requisite his office be resignde + And giuen to one of more discretion. + + KING. We shall encrease his melanchollie so. + Tis best that we see further in it first; + Till when, our-selfe will exempt the place. + And, brother, now bring in the embassadour, + That he may be a witnes of the match + Twixt Balthazar and Bel-imperia, + And that we may prefixe a certaine time + Wherein the marriage shalbe solemnized, + That we may haue thy lord the vice-roy heere. + + EM. Therein your Highnes highly shall content + His maiestie, that longs to heare from hence. + + KING. On then, and heare you, lord embassadour. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 13.] + + [HIERONIMO's house.] + + Enter HIERONIMO with a book in his hand. + + [HIERO.] Vindicta mihi. + I, heauen will be reuenged of euery ill, + Nor will they suffer murder vnrepaide! + Then stay, Hieronimo, attend their will; + For mortall men may not appoint their time. + Per scelus semper tutum est sceleribus iter: + Strike, and strike home, where wrong is offred thee; + For euils vnto ils conductors be, + And death's the worst of resultion. + For he that thinks with patience to contend + To quiet life, his life shall easily end. + Fata si miseros iuuant, habes selutem; + Fata si vitam negant, habes sepulchrum: + If destinie thy miseries doe ease, + Then hast thou health, and happie shalt thou be; + If destinie denie thee life, Hieronimo, + Yet shalt thou be assured of a tombe; + If neither, yet let this thy comfort be: + Heauen couereth him that hath no buriall. + And, to conclude, I will reuenge his death! + But how? Not as the vulgare wits of men, + With open, but ineuitable ils; + As by a secret, yet a certaine meane, + Which vnder kindeship wilbe cloked best. + Wise men will take their opportunitie, + Closely and safely fitting things to time; + But in extreames aduantage hath no time; + And therefore all times fit not for reuenge. + Thus, therefore, will I rest me in unrest, + Dissembling quiet in vnquietnes, + Not seeming that I know their villanies, + That my simplicitie may make them think + That ignorantly I will let all slip; + For ignorance, I wot, and well they know, + Remedium malorum iners est. + Nor ought auailes it me to menace them. + Who, as a wintrie storme vpon a plaine, + Will beare me downe with their nobilitie. + No, no, Hieronimo, thou must enioyne + Thine eies to obseruation, and thy tung + To milder speeches then thy spirit affoords, + Thy hart to patience, and thy hands to rest, + Thy cappe to curtesie, and they knee to bow, + Till to reuenge thou know when, where and how. + How now? what noise, what coile is that you keepe? + + A noise within. + + Enter a SERVANT. + + SER. Heere are a sort of poore petitioners + That are importunate, and it shall please you, sir, + That you should plead their cases to the king. + + HIERO. That I should plead their seuerall actions? + Why, let them enter, and let me see them. + + Enter three CITIZENS and an OLDE MAN + [DON BAZULTO]. + + I CIT. So I tell you this: for learning and for law + There is not any aduocate in Spaine + That can preuaile or will take halfe the paine + That he will in pursuite of equitie. + + HIERO. Come neere, you men, that thus importune me! + [Aside] Now must I beare a face of grauitie, + For thus I vsde, before my marshalship, + To pleide the causes as corrigedor. -- + Come on, sirs, whats the matter? + + II CIT. Sir, an action. + + HIERO. Of batterie? + + I CIT. Mine of debt. + + HIERO. Giue place. + + II CIT. No, sir, mine is an action of the case. + + III CIT. Mine an eiectionae firmae by a lease. + + HIERO. Content you, sirs; are you determined + That I should plead your seuerall actions? + + I CIT. I, sir; and heeres my declaration. + + II CIT. And heere is my band. + + III CIT. And heere is my lease. + + They giue him papers. + + HIERO. But wherefore stands you silly man so mute, + With mournfall eyes and hands to heauen vprearde? + Come hether, father; let me know thy cause. + + SENEX, [DON BAZULTO]. O worthy sir, my cause but slightly knowne + May mooue the harts of warlike Myrmydons, + And melt the Corsicke rockes with ruthfull teares! + + HIERO. Say, father; tell me whats thy sute! + + [BAZULTO]. No, sir, could my woes + Giue way vnto my most distresfull words, + Then should I not in paper, as you see, + With incke bewray what blood began in me. + + HIERO. Whats heere? "The Humble Supplication + Of Don Bazulto for his Murdered Sonne." + + [BAZULTO]. I, sir. + + HIERO. No, sir, it was my murdred sonne! + Oh, my sonne, my sonne! oh, my sonne Horatio! + But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content; + Heere, take my hand-kercher and wipe thine eies, + Whiles wretched I in thy mishaps may see + The liuely portraict of my dying selfe. + + He draweth out a bloudie napkin. + + O, no; not this! Horatio, this was thine! + And when I dyde it in thy deerest blood, + This was a token twixt thy soule and me + That of thy death reuenged I should be. + But heere: take this, and this! what? my purse? + I, this and that and all of them are thine; + For all as one are our extremeties. + + I CIT. Oh, see the kindenes of Hieronimo! + + II CIT. This gentlenes shewes him a gentleman. + + HIERO. See, see, oh, see thy shame, Hieronimo! + See heere a louing father to his sonne: + Beholde the sorrowes and the sad laments + That he deliuereth for his sonnes dicease. + If loues effects so striues in lesser things, + If loue enforce such moodes in meaner wits, + If loue expresse such power in poor estates, + Hieronimo, as when a raging sea, + Tost with the winde and tide, ore-turneth then + The vpper-billowes, course of waues to keep, + Whilest lesser waters labour in the deepe, + Then shamest thou not, Hieronimo, to neglect + The [swift] reuenge of thy Horatio? + Though on this earth iustice will not be found, + Ile downe to hell and in this passion + Knock at the dismall gates of Plutos court, + Getting by force, as once Alcides did, + A troupe of furies and tormenting hagges, + To torture Don Lorenzo and the rest. + Yet, least the triple-headed porter should + Denye my passage to the slimy strond, + The Thracian poet thou shalt counterfeite; + Come on, old father, be my Orpheus; + And, if thou canst no notes vpon the harpe, + Then sound the burden of thy sore harts greefe + Till we do gaine that Proserpine may graunt + Reuenge on them that murd[er]red my sonne. + Then will I rent and teare them thus and thus, + Shiuering their limmes in peeces with my teeth! + + Teare the papers. + + I CIT. Oh, sir, my declaration! + + Exit HIERONIMO and they after. + + II CIT. Saue my bond! + + Enter HIERONIMO. + + II CIT. Saue my bond! + + III CIT. Alas my lease, it cost me + Ten pound, and you, my lord, haue torne the same! + + HIERO. That can not be, I gaue it neuer a wound; + Shew me one drop of bloud fall from the same! + How is it possible I should slay it then? + Tush, no! Run after, catch me if you can! + + Exeunt all but the OLDE MAN [DON + BAZULTO]. + + BAZULTO remaines till HIERONIMO enters + againe, who, staring him the face, speakes: + + And art thou come, Horatio, from the depth, + To aske for iustice in this vpper earth? + T[o] tell thy father thou art vnreuenged? + To wring more teares from Isabellas eies, + Whose lights are dimd with ouer-long laments? + Goe back, my sonne, complaine to Eacus; + For heeres no iustice. Gentle boy, begone; + For iustice is exiled from the earth. + H[i]eronimo will beare thee company. + Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant + For iust reuenge against the murderers. + + [BAZULTO]. Alas, my l[ord], whence springs this troubled speech? + + HIERO. But let me looke on my Horatio: + Sweet boy, how art thou chang'd in deaths black shade! + Had Proserpine no pittie on thy youth, + But suffered thy fair crimson-colourd spring + With withered winter to be blasted thus? + Horatio, thou are older then thy father: + Ah, ruthless father, that fauour thus transformess. + + BA. Ah, my good lord, I am not your yong sonne. + + HIE. What! not my sonne? thou then a Furie art + Sent from the emptie kingdome of blacke night + To summon me to make appearance + Before grim Mynos and iust Radamant, + To plague Hieronimo, that is remisse + And seekes not vengeance for Horatios death. + + BA. I am a greeued man, and not a ghost, + That came for iustice for my murdered sonne. + + HIE. I, now I know thee, now thou namest thy sonne; + Thou art the liuely image of my griefe: + Within thy face sorrowes I may see; + The eyes are [dim'd] with teares, they cheekes are wan, + They forehead troubled, and thy muttring lips + Murmure sad words abruptly broken off + By force of windie sighes thy spirit breathes; + And all this sorrow riseth for thy sonne, + And selfe-same sorrow feele I for my sonne. + Come in, old man; thou shalt to Izabell. + Leane on my arme; I thee, thou me shalt stay; + And thou and I and she will sing a song, + Three parts in one, but all of discords fram'd, -- + Talke not of cords! -- but let vs now be gone, -- + For with a cord Horatio was slaine. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT III. SCENE 14.] + + [The Spanish court.] + + Enter KING OF SPAINE, the DUKE, VICE-ROY, and + LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, DON PEDRO, and BELIMPERIA. + + KING. Go, brother, it is the Duke of Castiles cause; + Salute the vice-roy in our name. + + CASTILE. I go. + + VICE. Go forth, Don Pedro, for they nephews sake, + And greet the Duke of Castile. + + PEDRO. It shall be so. + + KING. And now to meet these Portaguise; + For, as we now are, so sometimes were these, + Kings and commanders of the westerne Indies. + Welcome, braue vice-roy, to the court of Spaine! + And welcome, all his honorable traine! + Tis not vnknowne to vs for why you come, + Or haue so kingly crost the seas. + Suffiseth it, in this we note the troth + And more then common loue you lend to vs. + So is it that mine honorable neece, + For it beseemes vs now that it be knowne, + Already is betroth'd to Balthazar; + And, by appointment and our condiscent, + To-morrow are they to be married. + To this intent we entertaine thy-selfe, + Thy followers, their pleasure, and our peace. + Speak, men of Portingale, shall it be so? + If I, say so; if not, say so flatly. + + VICE. Renowned king, I come not, as thou thinkst, + With doubtfull followers, vnresolued men, + But such as haue vpon thine articles + Confirmed thy motion and contented me. + Know, soueraigne, I come to solemnize + The marriage of they beloued neece, + Faire Bel-imperia, with my Balthazar, -- + With thee, my sonne, whom sith I liue to see, + Heere, take my crowne, I giue it to her and thee, + And let me liue a solitarie life, + In ceaseless praiers, + To think how strangely heauen hath thee preserued. + + KING. See, brother, see, how nature striues in him! + Come, worthy vice-roy, and accompany + They freend, [to strive] with thine extremities: + A place more priuate fits this princely mood. + + VICE. Or heere or where your Highnes thinks it good. + + Exeunt all but CAST[TILE] and LOR[ENZO]. + + CAS. Nay, stay, Lorenzo; let me talke with you. + Seest thou this entertainement of these kings? + + LOR. I doe, my lord, and ioy to see the same. + + CAS. And knowest thou why this meeting is? + + LOR. For her, my lord, whom Balthazar doth loue, + And to confirme their promised marriage. + + CAS. She is thy sister. + + LOR. Who? Bel-imperia? + I, my gratious lord, and this is the day + That I haue longd so happily to see. + + CAS. Thou wouldst be loath that any fault of thine + Should intercept her in her happines? + + LOR. Heauens will not let Lorenzo erre so much. + + CAS. Why then, Lorenzo, listen to my words: + It is suspected, and reported too, + That thou, Lorenzo, wrongst Hieronimo, + And in his sutes toward his Maiestie + Still keepst him back and seekes to crosse his sute. + + LOR. That I, my lord? + + CAS. I tell thee, sonne, my-selfe haue heard it said, + When to my sorrow I haue been ashamed + To answere for thee, though thou art my sonne. + Lorenzo, knowest thou not the common loue + And kindenes that Hieronimo hath wone + By his deserts within the court of Spaine? + Or seest thou not the k[ing] my brothers care + In his behalfe and to procure his health? + Lorenzo, shouldst thou thwart his passions, + And he exclaime against thee to the king, + What honour wert in this assembly, + Or what a scandale were among the kings, + To heare Hieronimo exclaime on thee! + Tell me, --and loke thou tell me truely too,-- + Whence growes the ground of this report in court? + + LOR. My l[ord], it lyes not in Lorenzos power + To stop the vulgar liberall of their tongues: + A small aduantage makes a water-breach; + And no man liues that long contenteth all. + + CAS. My-selfe haue seene thee busie to keep back + Him and his supplications from the king. + + LOR. Your-selfe, my l[ord], hath seene his assions, + That ill beseemde the presence of a king; + And, for I pittied him in his distresse, + I helde him thence with kinde and curteous words, + As free from malice to Hieronimo + As to my soule, my lord. + + CAS. Hieronimo, my sonne, mistakes thee then. + + LOR. My gratious father, beleeue me, so he doth; + But whats a silly man, distract in minde + To think vpon the murder of his sonne? + Alas, how easie is it for him to erre! + But, for his satisfaction and the worlds, + Twere good, my l[ord], that Hieronimo and I + Were reconcilde, if he misconster me. + + CAS. Lorenzo, that hast said; it shalbe so! + Goe, one of you, and call Hieronimo. + + Etner BALTHAZAR and BEL-IMPERIA. + + BAL. Come, Bel-imperia, Balthazars content, + My sorrowes ease, and soueraigne of my blisse, -- + Sith heauen hath [thee ordainded] to be mine, + Disperce those cloudes and melanchollie lookes, + And cleere them vp with those thy sunne-bright eies, + Wherein my hope and heauens faire beautie lies! + + BEL. My lookes, my lord, are fitting for my loue, + Which, new begun, can shew no brighter yet. + + BAL. New kindled flames should burne as morning sun. + + BEL. But not too fast, least heate and all be done. + I see my lord my father. + + BAL. True, my loue; + I will goe salute him. + + CAS. Welcome, Balthazar, + Welcome, braue prince, the pledge of Castiles peace! + And welcome Bel-imperia! How now, girle? + Why commest thou sadly to salute vs thus? + Content thy-selfe, for I am satisfied. + It is not now as when Andrea liu'd; + We haue forgotten and forgiuen that, + And thou art graced with a happeir loue. + But, Balthazar, heere comes Hieronimo; + Ile haue a word with him. + + Enter HIERONIMO and a SERUANT. + + HIERO. And wheres the duke? + + SER. Yonder. + + HIERO. Euen so. + [aside] What new deuice haue they deuised, tro? + Pocas palabras! Milde as the lambe! + Ist I will be reueng'd? No, I am not the man. + + CAS. Welcome, Hieronimo! + + LOR. Welcome, Hieronimo! + + BAL. Welcome, Hieronimo! + + HIERO. My lords, I thank you for Horatio. + + CAS. Hieronimo, the reason that I sent + To speak with you is this -- + + HIERO. What? so short? + Then Ile be gone; I thank you fort! + + CAS. Nay, stay, Hieronimo; goe call him, sonne. + + LOR. Hieronimo, my father craues a word with you. + + HIERO. With me, sir? Why, my l[ord], I thought you + had done. + + LOR. [aside] No; would he had! + + CAS. Hieronimo, I hear + You finde your-selfe agreeued at my sonne, + Because you haue not accesse vnto the king, + And say tis he that intercepts your sutes. + + HIERO. Why, is not this a miserable thing, my lord? + + CAS. Hieronimo, I hope you haue no cause, + And would be loth that one of your deserts, + Should once haue reason to suspect my sonne, + Considering how I think of you my-selfe. + + HIERO. Your sonne Lorenzo? whome, my noble lord? + The hope of Spaine? mine honorable freend? + Graunt me the combat of them, if they dare! + + Drawes out his sword. + + Ile meet them face-to-face to tell me so! + These be the scandalous reports of such + As loues not me, and hate my lord too much. + Should I suspect Lorenzo would preuent + Or crosse my sute, that loued my sonne so well? + My lord, I am ashamed it should be said. + + LOR. Hieronimo, I neuer gaue you cause. + + H[I]ERO. My good lord, I know you did not. + + CAS. There then pause, + And, for the satisfaction of the world, + Hieronimo, frequent my homely house, + The Duke of Castile Ciprians ancient seat; + And when thou wilt, vse me, my sonne, and it. + But heere before Prince Balthazar and me + Embrace each other, and be perfect freends. + + HIERO. I, marry, my lord, and shall! + Freends, quoth he? See, Ile be freends with you all! + Especially with you, my louely lord; + For diuers causes it is fit for vs + That we be freends. The world is suspitious, + And men may think what we imagine not. + + BAL. Why this is freely doone, Hieronimo. + + LOR. And I hope olde grudges are forgot. + + HIERO. What els? it were a shame it should not + be so! + + CAS. Come on, Hieronimo, at my request; + Let vs entreat your company to-day! + + Exeunt. + +[CHORUS.] + + Enter GHOAST and REUENGE. + + GHOST. Awake Erictho! Cerberus, awake! + Sollicite Pluto, gentle Proserpine! + To combat, Achinon and Ericus in hell! + For neere by Stix and Phlegeton [there came.] + Nor ferried Caron to the fierie lakes, + Such fearfull sights, as poore Andrea see[s]? + Reuenge awake! + + REUENGE. Awake? for-why? + + GHOST. Awake, Reuenge! for thou art ill aduisde + To sleepe away what thou art warnd to watch! + + REUENGE. Content thy-selfe, and doe not trouble me. + + GHOST. Awake, Reuenge, if loue, as loue hath had, + Haue yet the power of preuailance in hell! + Hieronimo with Lorenzo is ioynde in league, + And intecepts our passage to reuenge. + Awake, Reuenge, or we are woe-begone! + + REUENGE. Thus worldings ground what they haue dreamd vpon! + Content thy-selfe, Andrea; though I sleepe, + Yet is my mood soliciting their soules. + Sufficeth thee that poore Hieronimo + Cannot forget his sonne Horatio. + Nor dies Reuegne although he sleepe a-while; + For in vnquiet, quietnes is faind, + And slumbring is a common worldly wile. + Beholde, Andrea, for an instance how + Reuenge hath slept; and then imagine thou + What tis to be subiect to destinie. + + Enter a Dumme-show. + + GHOST. Awake, Reuenge! reueale this misterie! + + REUENGE. The two first [do] the nuptiall torches beare, + As brightly burning as the mid-daies sunne; + But after them doth Himen hie as fast, + Clothed in sable and saffron robe, + And blowes them out and quencheth them with blood, + As discontent that things continue so. + + GHOST. Sufficeth me; thy meanings vnderstood, + And thanks to thee and those infernall powers + That will not tollerate a louers woe. + Rest thee; for I will sit to see the rest. + + REUENGE. Then argue not; for thou hast thy request. + + Exeunt. + + + +[ACT IV. SCENE 1.] + + [The DUKE's castle.] + + Enter BEL-IMPERIA and HIERONIMO. + + BEL-IMPERIA. Is this the loue that bearst Horatio? + Is this the kindnes that thou counterfeits, + Are these the fruits of thine incessant teares? + Hieronimo, are these thy passions, + Thy protestations and thy deepe laments, + That thou wert wont to wearie men withall? + O vnkinde father! O deceitfull world! + With what excuses canst thou shew thy-selfe, -- + With what dishonour, and the hate of men, -- + Thus to neglect the losse and life of him + Whom both my letters and thine owne beliefe + Assures thee to be causeles slaughtered? + Hieronimo! for shame, Hieronimo, + Be not a history to after times + Of such ingratitude vnto thy sonne! + Vnhappy mothers of such chldren then! + But monstrous fathers, to forget so soone + The death of those whom they with care and cost + Haue tendred so, thus careles should be lost! + My-selfe, a stranger in respect to thee, + So loued his life as still I wish their deathes. + Nor shall his death be vnreuengd by me. + Although I beare it out for fashions sake; + For heere I sweare in sight of heauen and earth, + Shouldst thou neglect the loue thou shoudlst retain + And giue ouer and deuise no more, + My-selfe should send their hatefull soules to hel + That wrought his downfall with extreamest death! + + HIE. But may it be that Bel-imperia + Vowes such reuenge as she hath dain'd to say? + Why then, I see that heauen applies our drift, + And all the saints doe sit soliciting + For vengeance on those cursed murtherers. + Madame, tis true, and now I find it so. + I found a letter, written in your name, + And in that letter, how Horatio died. + Pardon, O pardon, Bel-imperia, + My feare and care in not beleeuing it! + Nor thinke I thoughtles thinke vpon a meane + To let his death be vnreuenge'd at full. + And heere I vow, so you but giue consent + And will conceale my resolution, + I will ere long determine of their deathes + That causeles thus haue murderd my sonne. + + BEL. Hieronimo, I will consent, conceale, + And ought that may effect for thine auaile, + Ioyne with thee to reuenge Horatios death. + + HIER. On then, [and] whatsoeuer I deuise, + Let me entreat you grace my practice, + For-why the plots already in mine head. -- + Heere they are! + + Enter BALTHAZAR and LORENZO. + + BAL. How now, Hieronimo? + What, courting Bel-imperia? + + HIERO. I, my lord, + Such courting as, I promise you, + She hath my hart, but you, my lord, haue hers. + + LOR. But now, Hieronmimo, or neuer we are to intreate + your helpe. + + HIE. My help? why, my good lords, assure your-selues + of me; + For you haue giuen me cause, -- I, by my faith, haue you! + + BAL. It pleasde you at the entertainment of the + embassadour, + To grace the King so much as with a shew; + Now were your stuide so well furnished + As, for the passing of the first nights sport, + To entertaine my father with the like, + Or any such like pleasing motion, + Assure yourselfe it would content them well. + + HIERO. Is this all? + + BAL. I, this is all. + + HIERO. While then ile fit you; say no more. + When I was yong I gaue my minde + And plide my-selfe to fruitles poetrie, + Which, though it profite the professor naught, + Yet is it passing pleasing to the world. + + LOR. And how for that? + + HIERO. Marrie, my good lord, thus. -- + And yet, me thinks, you are too quick with vs! -- + When in Tolledo there I studied, + It was my chaunce to write a tragedie, -- + See heere, my lords, -- + + He showes them a book. + + Which, long forgot, I found this other day. + Nor would your lordships fauour me so much + As but to grace me with your acting it, + I meane each one of you to play a part. + Assure you it will proue most passing strange + And wondrous plausible to that assembly. + + BAL. What, would you haue vs play a tragedie? + + HIERO. Why, Nero thought it no disparagement, + And kings and emperours haue tane delight + To make experience of their wit in plaies! + + LOR. Nay, be not angry, good Hieronimo; + The prince but asked a question. + + BAL. In faith, Hieronimo, and you be in earnest, + Ile make one. + + LOR. And I another. + + HIERO. Now, my good lord, could you intreat, + Your sister, Bel-imperia, to make one, -- + For whats a play without a woman in it? + + BEL. Little intreaty shall serue me, Hieronimo, + For I must needs be imployed in your play. + + HIERO. Why, this is well! I tell you, lordings, + It was determined to haue beene acted, + By gentlemen and schollers too, + Such as could tell what to speak. + + BAL. And now it shall be plaide by princes and courtiers, + Such as can tell how to speak, + If, as it is our country manner, + You will but let vs know the argument. + + HIERO. That shall I roundly. The cronicles of Spaine + Recorde this written of a knight of Rodes; + He was betrothed, and wedded at the length, + To one Perseda, an Italian dame, + Whose beatuie rauished all that her behelde, + Especially the soule of Soliman, + Who at the marriage was the cheefest guest. + By sundry meanes sought Soliman to winne + Persedas loue, and could not gaine the same. + Then gan he break his passions to a freend, + One of his bashawes whome he held full deere. + Her has this bashaw long solicited, + And saw she was not otherwise to be wonne + But by her husbands death, this knight of Rodes, + Whome presently by trecherie his slew. + She, stirde with an exceeding hate therefore, + As cause of this, slew [Sultan] Soliman, + And, to escape the bashawes tirannie, + Did stab her-selfe. And this [is] the tragedie. + + LOR. O, excellent! + + BEL. But say, Hieronimo: + What then became of him that was the bashaw? + + HIERO. Marrie thus: moued with remorse of his misdeeds, + Ran to a mountain top and hung himselfe. + + BAL. But which of vs is to performe that part? + + HIERO. O, that will I, my lords; make no doubt of it; + Ile play the murderer, I warrent you; + For I already haue conceited that. + + BAL. And what shall I? + + HIERO. Great Soliman, the Turkish emperour. + + LOR. And I? + + HIERO. Erastus, the knight of Rhodes. + + BEL. And I? + + HIERO. Perseda, chaste and resolute. + And heere, my lords, are seueral abstracts drawne, + For eache of you to note your [seuerall] partes. + And act it as occasion's offred you. + You must prouide [you with] a Turkish cappe, + A black moustache and a fauchion. + + Giues paper to BAL[THAZAR]. + + You with a crosse, like a knight of Rhodes. + + Giues another to LOR[ENZO]. + + And, madame, you must [then] attire your-selfe + + He giueth BEL[-IMPERIA] another. + + Like Phoebe, Flora, or the huntresse [Dian], + Which to your discretion shall seeme best. + And as for me, my lords, Ile looke to one, + And with the raunsome that the vice-roy sent + So furnish and performe this tragedie + As all the world shall say Hieronimo + Was liberall in gracing of it so. + + BAL. Hieronimo, me thinks a comedie were better. + + HIERO. A comedie? fie! comedies are fit for common wits; + But to present a kingly troupe withall, + Giue me a stately-written tragedie, -- + Tragedia cothurnata, fitting kings, + Containing matter, and not common things! + My lords, all this [our sport] must be perfourmed, + As fitting, for the first nights reuelling. + The Italian tragedians were so sharpe + Of wit that in one houres meditation + They would performe any-thing in action. + + LOR. And well it may, for I haue seene the like + In Paris, mongst the French tragedians. + + HIERO. In Paris? mas, and well remembered! -- + Theres one thing more that rests for vs to doo. + + BAL. Whats that, Hieronimo? + Forget not any-thing. + + HIERO. Each one of vs + Must act his parte in vnknowne languages, + That it may breede the more varietie: + As you, my lord, in Latin, I in Greeke, + You in Italian, and, for-because I know + That Bel-imperia hath practised the French, + In courtly French shall all her phrases be. + + BEL. You meane to try my cunning then, Hieronimo! + + BAL. But this will be a meere confusion, + And hardly shall we all be vnderstoode. + + HEIRO. It must be so; for the conclusion + Shall proue the inuention and all was good; + And I my-selfe in an oration, + That I will haue there behinde a curtaine, + And with a strange and wondrous shew besides, + Assure your-selfe, shall make the matter knowne. + And all shalbe concluded in once scene, + For theres no pleasure tane in tediousnes. + + BAL. [to LOR.] How like you this? + + LOR. Why thus, my lord, we must resolue, + To soothe his humors vp. + + BAL. On then, Hieronimo; farewell till soone! + + HIERO. You plie this geere? + + LOR. I warrant you. + + Exeuent all but HIERONIMO. + + HIERO. Why, so! now shall I see the fall of Babilon + Wrought by the heauens in this confusion. + And, if the world like not this tragedie, + Hard is the hap of olde Hieronimo. + + Exit. + + + +[ACT IV. SCENE 2.] + + [HIERONIMO's garden.] + + Enter ISABELLA with a weapon. + + [ISA.] Tell me no more! O monstrous homicides! + Since neither pietie nor pittie moues + The king to iustice or compassion, + I will reuenge my-selfe vpon this place, + Where thus they murdered my beloued sonne. + + She cuts downe the arbour. + + Downe with these branches and these loathsome bowes + On this vnfortunate and fatall pine! + Downe with them, Isabella; rent them vp, + And burnes the roots from whence the rest is sprung! + I will leaue not a root, a stalke, a tree, + A bowe, a branch, a blossome, nor a leafe, -- + Not, not a hearb within this garden plot, + Accursed complot of my miserie! + Fruitlesse for-euer may this garden be, + Barren the earth, and blislesse whosoeuer + Immagines not to keep it vnmanurde! + An easterne winde comixt with noisome aires + Shall blast the plants and yong saplings [here], + The earth with serpents shalbe pestered, + And passengers, for feare to be infect, + Shall stand aloofe, and, looking at it, tell + There murdred dide the sonne of Isabell. + I, heere he dide, and heere I him imbrace! + See where his ghoast solicites with his wounds + Reuenge on her that should reuenge his death! + Hieronimo, make haste to see thy sonne, + For Sorrow and Dispaire hath scited me + To heare Horatio plead with Radamant. + Make haste, Hieronimo, to holde excusde + Thy negligence in pursute of their deaths + Whose hatefull wrath breau'd him of his breath. + Ah, nay; thou dost delay their deaths, + Forgiues the murderers of thy noble sonne; + And none but I bestirre me, -- to no end! + And, as I cursse this tree from further fruit, + So shall my wombe be cursed for his sake; + And with this weapon will I wound this brest, -- + That haples brest that gaue Horatio suck! + + She stabs her-selfe. + + + +[ACT IV. SCENE 3.] + + [The DUKE's castle.] + + Enter HIERONIMO; he knocks up the curtaine. + Enter the DUKE OF CASTILE. + + CAS. How now, Hieronimo? wheres your fellows, + That you take all this paine? + + HIERO. O sir, it is for the authors credit + To look that all things may goe well. + But, good my lord, let me intreat your Grace + To giue the king the coppie of the plaie: + This is the argument of what we shew. + + CAS. I will, Hieronimo. + + HIERO. One more thing, my good lord. + + CAS. Whats that? + + HIERO. Let me intreat your Grace + That, when the traine are past into the gallerie, + You would vouchsafe to throwe me downe the key. + + CAS. I will Hieronimo. + + Exit CAS[TILE]. + + HIERO. What, are you ready, Balthazar? + Bring a chaire and a cushion for the king. + + Enter BALTHAZAR with a chaire. + + Well doon, Balthazar; hang vp the title: + Our scene is Rhodes. What, is your beard on? + + BAL. Halfe on, the other is in my hand. + + HIERO. Dispatch, for shame! are you so long? + + Exit BALTHAZAR. + + Bethink thy-selfe, Hieronimo, + Recall thy wits, recompt thy former wrongs + Thou hast receiued by murder of thy sonne, + And lastly, [but] not least, how Isabell, + Once his mother and [my] deerest wife, + All woe-begone for him, hath slaine her-selfe. + Behoues thee then, Hieronimo, to be + Reueng'd! The plot is laide of dire reuenge: + On then, Hieronimo; persue reuenge, + For nothing wants but acting of reuenge! + + Exit HIERONIMO. + + Enter SPANISH KING, VICE-ROY, the DUKE + OF CASTILE, and their traine, [to the + gallery]. + + KING. Now, viceroy, shall we see the tragedie + Of Soliman, the Turkish emperour, + Performde by pleasure by yor sonne the prince, + My nephew Don Lorenzo, and my neece. + + VICE. Who? Bel-imperia? + + KING. I; and Hieronimo our marshall, + At whose request they deine to doo't themselues. + These be our pastimes in the court of Spaine. + Heere, brother, you shall be the booke-keeper: + This is the argument of that they shew. + + He giueth him a booke. + +[Gentlemen, this play of Hieronimo in sundrie languages was thought good to be +set downe in English more largely, for the easier vnderstanding to euery +publique reader.] + + Enter BALTHAZAR, BEL-IMPERIA, and + HIERONIMO. + + BALTHAZAR. [acting] Bashaw, that Rhodes is ours yeeld Heauens the honor + And holy Mahhomet, our sacred prophet! + And be thou grac't with euery excelence + That Soliman can giue or thou desire! + But thy desert in conquering Rhodes is lesse + Then in reseruing this faire Christian nimph, + Perseda, blisfull lamp of excellence, + Whose eies compell, like powerfull adamant, + The warlike heart of Soliman to wait. + + KING. See, vice-roy, that is Balthazar your sonne, + That represents the Emperour Solyman: + How well he acts his amorous passion! + + VICE. I; Bel-imperia hath taught him that. + + CASTILE: That's because his mind runnes al on Bel-imperia. + + HIERO. [acting] What-euer ioy earth yeelds betide your Maiestie! + + BALT. [acting] Earth yeelds no ioy without Persedaes loue. + + HIERO. [acting] Let then Peerseda on your Grace attend. + + BALT. [acting] She shall not wait on me, but I on her! + Drawne by the influence of her lights, I yeeld. + But let my friend, the Rhodian knight, come foorth, -- + Erasto, dearer then my life to me, -- + That he may see Perseda, my beloued. + + Enter ERASTO [LORENZO]. + + KING. Heere comes Lorenzo: looke vpon the plot + And tell me, brother, what part plaies he. + + BEL. [acting] Ah, my Erasto! Welcome to Perseda! + + LO. [acting] Thrice happie is Erasto that thou liuest! + Rhodes losse is nothing to Erastoes ioy; + Sith his Perseda liues, his life suruiues. + + BALT. [acting] Ah, bashaw, heere is loue betweene Erasto + And faire Perseda, soueraigne of my soule! + + HIERO. [acting] Remooue Erasto, mighty Solyman, + And then Perseda will be quickly wonne. + + BALT. [acting] Erasto is my friend; and, while he liues, + Perseda neuer will remooue her loue. + + HIERO. [acting] Let not Erasto liue to greeue great Soliman! + + BALT. [acting] Deare is Erasto in our princely eye. + + HIERO. [acting] But, if he be your riuall, let him die! + + BALT. [acting] Why, let him die! so loue commaundeth me. + Yet I greeve I that Erasto should so die. + + HIERO. [acting] Erasto, Soliman saluteth thee, + And lets thee wit by me his Highnes will, + Which is, thou shouldst be thus imploid. + + Stab him. + + BEL. [acting] Ay, me, Erasto! See, Solyman, Erastoes slaine! + + BALT. [acting] Yet liueth Solyman to comfort thee. + Faire queene of beautie, let not fauour die, + Both with gratious eye behlde his griefe, + That with Persedaes beautie is encreast, + If by Perseda griefe be not releast. + + BEL. [acting] Tyrant, desist soliciting vaine sutes; + Relentles are mine eares to thy laments + As thy butcher is pittilesse and base + Which seazd on my Erasto, harmelesse knight. + Yet by thy power thou thinkest to commaund, + And to thy power Perseda doth obey; + But, were she able, thus she would reuenge + Thy treacheries on thee, ignoble prince; + + Stab him. + + And on herselfe she would be thus reuengd. + + Stab herselfe. + + KING. Well said, old marshall! this was brauely done! + + HIERO. But Bel-imperia plauies Perseda well. + + VICE. Were this in earnest, Bel-imperia, + You would be better to my sonne then so. + + KING. But now what followes for Hieronimo? + + HIERO. Marrie, this followes for Hieronimo! + Heere breake we off our sundrie languages, + And thus conclude I in our vulgare tung: + Happely you think -- but bootles are your thoughts -- + That this is fabulously counterfeit, + And that we doo as all trageians doo, -- + To die to-day, for fashioning our scene, + The death of Aiax, or some Romaine peer, + And, in a minute starting vp againe, + Reuiue to please tomorrows audience. + No, princes; know I am Hieronimo, + The hopeles father of a haples sonne, + Whose tung is tun'd to tell his latest tale, + Not to excuse grosse errors in the play. + I see your lookes vrge instance of these words: + Beholde the reason vrging me to this! + + Showes his dead sonne. + + See heere my shew; look on this spectacle! + Heere lay my hope, and heere my hope hath end; + Heere lay my hart, and heere my hart was slaine; + Heere lay my treasure, heere my treasure lost; + Heere lay my blisse, and heere my blisse bereft. + But hope, hart, treasure, ioy and blisse, -- + All fled, faild, died, yea, all decaide with this. + From froth these wounds came breath that gaue me life; + They murdred me that made these fatall markes. + The cause was loue whence grew this mortall hate: + The hate, Lorenzo and yong Balthazar; + The loue, my sonne to Bel-imperia. + But night, the couerer of accursed crimes, + With pitchie silence husht these traitors harmes, + And lent them leaue -- for they had sorted leasure -- + To take aduantage in my garden plot + Vpon my sonne, my deere Horatio. + There mercilesse they butcherd vp my boy, + In black, darke night, to pale, dim, cruell death! + He shrikes; I heard -- and yet, me thinks, I heare -- + His dismall out-cry eccho in the aire; + With soonest speed I hasted to the noise, + Where, hanging on a tree, I found my sonne + Through-girt with wounds and slaughtred, as you see. + And greeued I, think you, at this spectacle? + Speak, Portuguise, whose losse resembles mine! + If thou canst weep vpon thy Balthazar, + Tis like I wailde for my Horatio. + And you, my l[ord], whose reconciled sonne + Marcht in a net and thought himself vnseene, + And rated me for a brainsicke lunacie, + With "God amend that mad Hieronimo!" -- + How can you brook our plaies catastrophe? + And heere beholde this bloudie hand-kercher, + Which at Horatios death weeping dipt + Within the riuer of his bleeding wounds! + It as propitious, see, I haue reserued, + And neuer hath it left my bloody hart, + Soliciting remembrance of my vow + With these, O these accursed murderers! + Which now perform'd, my hart is satisfied. + And to this end the bashaw I became, + That might reuenge me on Lorenzos life, + Who therefore was appointed to the part + And was to represent the knight of Rhodes, + That I might kill him more conueniently. + So, vice-roy, was this Balthazar thy sonne -- + That Soliman which Bel-imperia + In person of Perseda murdered, -- + So[le]lie appointed to that tragicke part, + That she might slay him that offended her. + Poore Bel-imperia mist her part in this: + For, though the story saith she should haue died, + Yet I, of kindenes and care for her, + Did otherwise determine of her end. + But loue of him whome they did hate too much + Did vrge her resolution to be such. + And princes, now beholde Hieronimo, + Author and actor in this tragedie, + Bearing his latest fortune in his fist; + And will as resolute conclude his parte + As any of the actors gone before. + And, gentles, thus I end my play! + Vrge no more words, I haue no more to say. + + He runs to hang himselfe. + + KING. O hearken, vice-roy; holde Hieronimo! + Brother, my newphew and they sonne are slaine! + + VICE. We are betraide! my Balthazar is slaine! + Breake ope the doores; runne saue Hieronimo! + Hieronimo, doe but enforme the king of these euents; + Vpon mine honour, thou shalt haue no harme! + + HIERO. Vice-roy, I will not trust thee with my life, + Which I this day haue offered to my sonne: + Accursed wretch, why staiest thou him that was resolued to die? + + KING. Speak, traitor! damned, bloudy murderer, speak! -- + For, now I haue thee, I wil make thee speak! + Why hast thou done this vndeseruing deed? + + VICE. Why hast thou murdered my Balthazar? + + CAS. Why hast thou butchered both my children thus? + + HIERO. O good words! As deare to me was Horatio + As yours, or yours, my l[ord], to you. + My guitles sonne was by Lorenzo slaine; + And by Lorenzo and that Balthazar + Am I at last reuenged thorowly, -- + Vpon whole soules may Heauens be yet auenged + With far greater far then these afflictions! + + CAS. But who were thy confederates in this? + + VICE. That was thy daughter Bel-imperia; + For by her hand my Balthazar was slaine, -- + I saw her stab him. + + KING. Why speakest thou not? + + HIERO. What lesser libertie can kings affoord + Then harmles silence? That afford it me! + Sufficeth I may not nor I will not tell thee. + + KING. Fetch forth the tortures! Traitor as thou art, Ile make thee tell! + + HIERO. Indeed? + Thou maiest torment me as his wretched sonne + Hath done in murdring my Horatio; + But neuer shalt thou force me to reueale + The thing which I haue vowed inviolate. + And therefore, in despight of all thy threats, + Pleasde with their deaths, and easde with their reuenge, + First take my tung, and afterwards my hart! + + He bites out his tongue. + + KING. O monstrous resolution of a wretch! + See, Vice-Roy, he hath bitten foorth his tung + Rather than reueale what we requirde. + + CAS. Yet can he write. + + KING. And if in this he satisfie vs not, + We will deuise the 'xtreamest kinde of death + That euer was inuented for a wretch. + + Then he makes signes for a knife to mend his pen. + + CAS. O, he would haue a knife to mend his pen. + + VICE. Here; and aduise thee that thou write the troth, -- + Look to my brother! saue Hieronimo! + + He with a knife stabs the DUKE and himself. + + KING. What age hath euer heard such monstrous deeds? + My brother and the whole succeeding hope + That Spaine expected after my dicease. + Go beare his body hence, that we may mourne + The losse of our beloued brothers death, + That he may be entom'd, what-ere befall. + I am the next, the neerest, last of all. + + VICE. And thou, Don Pedro, do the like for vs: + Take vp our haples sonne vntimely slaine; + Set me vp with him, and he with wofull me, + Vpon the maine-mast of a ship vnmand, + And let the winde and tide [hale] me along + To Sillas barking and vntamed gulfe + Or to the lothsome poole of Archeron, + To weepe my want for my sweet Balthazar. + Spaine hath no refuge for a Portingale! + + The trumpets sound a dead march, the KING OF SPAINE + mourning after his brothers body, and the KING OF + PORTINGALE bearing the body of his sonne. + + + +[CHORUS.] + + Enter GHOAST and REUENGE. + + GHOAST. I; now my hopes haue end in their effects, + When blood and sorrow finnish my desires: + Horatio murdered in his Fathers bower, + Vilde Serberine by Pedrigano slaine, + False Pedrigano hang'd by quaint deuice, + Faire Isabella by her-selfe misdone, + Prince Balthazar by Bel-imepria stabd, + The Duke of Castile an his wicked sonne + Both done to death by olde Hieronimo, + My Bel-imperia falne as Dido fell, + And good Hieronimo slaine by himselfe! + I, these were spectacles to please my soule. + Now will I beg at louely Proserpine + That, by the vertue of her princely doome, + I may consort my freends in pleasing sort, + And on my foes work iust and sharpe reuenge. + Ile lead my freend Horatio through those feeldes + Where neuer-dying warres are still inurde; + Ile lead faire Isabella to that traine + Where pittie weepes but neuer feeleth paine; + Ile lead my Bel-imperia to those ioyes + That vestal virgins and faire queenes possess; + Ile lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plaies, + Adding sweet pleasure to eternall daies. + But say, Reuenge, -- for thou must helpe or none, -- + Against the rest how shall my hate be showne? + + REUENGE. This hand shall hale them down to deepest hell, + Where none but furies, bugs and tortures dwell. + + GHOAST. Then, sweet Reuenge, doo this at my request: + Let me iudge and doome them to vnrest; + Let loose poore Titius from the vultures gripe, + And let Don Ciprian supply his roome; + Place Don Lorenzo on Ixions wheele, + And let the louers endles paines surcease, + Iuno forget olde wrath and graunt him ease; + Hang Balthazar about Chimeras neck, + And let him there bewaile his bloudy loue, + Repining at our ioyes that are aboue; + Let Serberine goe roule the fatall stone + And take from Siciphus his endles mone; + False Pedringano, for his trecherie, + Let him be dragde through boyling Acheron, + And there liue dying still in endles flames, + Blaspheming gods and all their holy names. + + REUENGE. Then haste we downe to meet thy freends and foes; + To place thy freends in ease, the rest in woes. + For heere though death [doth] end their miserie, + Ile there begin their endles tragedie. + + Exeunt. + + + + FINIS. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE SPANISH TRAGEDIE *** + +This file should be named spatr10.txt or spatr10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, spatr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, spatr10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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