The Spanish Tragedie Containing the lamentable end of Don Horatio, and Bel-imperia : with the pittifull death of olde Hieronimo |
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 | The Spanish Tragedie |  |
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The following passage replaces twenty three lines from the edition, from “O good words, as deare to me was my Horatio,” to “First take my tung, and afterwards my hart.”
But are you sure they are dead?
Cast.
I, slaue, too sure.
Hier.
What and yours too?
Vic.
I, all are dead, not one of them suruiue.
Hier.
Nay, then I care not, come, and we shall be friends,
Let vs lay our heades together,
See here's a goodly nowse will hold them all.
Uice.
O damned Deuill, how secure he is.
Hier.
Secure, why doest thou wonder at it.
I tell thee Vice-roy, this day I haue seene reueng'd,
And in that sight am growne a prowder Monarch,
Then euer fate vnder the Crowne of Spaine:
Had I as many lyues as there be Starres,
As many Heauens to go to, as those liues,
Ide giue them all, I and my soule to boote,
But I would see thee ride in this red poole.
Cast.
Speake, Who were thy confederates in this?
Uic.
That was thy daughter Bel-imperia,
For by her hand my Balthazar was slaine:
Hie.
O good words: as deare to me was my Horatio,
As yours, or yours, or yours my L to you.
My giltlesse sonne was by Lorenzo slaine,
And by Lorenzo, and that Balthazar,
Am I at last reuenged thorowly.
Vpon whose soules may heauens be yet reuenged,
With greater farre then these afflictions.
Me thinkes since I grew inward with reuenge,
I cannot looke with scorne enough on death.
King.
What doest thou mocke vs slaue, bring torturs forth.
Hie.
Doe, doe, doe, and meane time Ile torture you
You had a sonne (as I take it) and your sonne,
Should ha'e beene married to your daughter: ha, wast not so?
You had a sonne too, he was my Lieges Nephew.
He was proude and politicke, had he liued,
He might a come to weare the crowne of Spaine,
I thinke twas so: twas I that killed him,
Looke you this same hand, twas it that stab'd
His heart, Doe you see this hand?
For one Horatio, if you euer knew him
A youth, one that they hanged vp in his fathers garden:
One that did force your valiant sonne to yeelde,
While your more valiant sonne did take him prisoner:
Vis.
Be deafe my sences, I can heare no more.
King.
Fall heauen, and couer vs with thy sad ruines,
Cast.
Rowle all the world within thy pitchy cloud.
Hie.
Now doe I applaud what I haue acted.
Nunck mers cadæ manus.
Now to expresse the rupture of my part,
First take my tongue, and afterward my heart.
He bites out his tongue.
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