The Spanish Tragedie Containing the lamentable end of Don Horatio, and Bel-imperia : with the pittifull death of olde Hieronimo |
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3. | Actus Tertius. |
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The Spanish Tragedie | ||
Actus Tertius.
Enter Viceroy of Portingale, Nobles, Alexandro, Villuppo.Uiceroy.
Infortunate condition of Kings,
Seated amidst so many helpeles doubts:
First we are plast vpon extreamest height,
And oft supplanted with exceeding heat,
But euer subiect to the wheele of chance?
And at our highest never ioy we so,
As we both doubt and dread our ouerthrow.
So striueth not the waues with sundry winds,
As fortune toyleth in the affaires of kings,
Sith feare or loue to Kings is flatterie:
For instance Lordings, look vpon your King,
By hate depriued of his dearest sonne,
The onely 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.
Uil.
No, for my Lord, had you behelde 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.
Uice.
No more Villuppo, thou hast said enough,
And with thy words thou slaiest 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 is 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 forth that daring feend,
And let him die for his accursed deed.
Alex.
Not that I feare the extreamitie of death,
For Nobles cannot stoop to seruile feare.
Doo I (O King) thus discontented liue.
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 accnsde.
Uil.
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.
Stay hold a while, and heer with pardon of his Maiestie,
Lay hands vpon Uilluppo.
Uice.
Embassadour, what news hath vrg'd this so dain entrance?
Em.
Know soueraigne L. that Balthazar doth liue.
Uice.
What saiest thou? liueth Balthazar our sonne?
Em.
Your highnes sonne, L. 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 commends.
Giues him Letters.
Are happie witnesses of his highnes health.
The King lookes on the letters, and proceeds.
Vice.
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 thy benefite.
Em.
These are his highnes farther articles.
He giues him more Letters.
Uice.
Accursed wretch to intimate these ills,
Of noble Alexandro. come my Lord vnbinde him.
Let him vnbinde thee that is bound to death,
To make a quitall for thy discontent.
They vnbinde him.
Alex.
Dread Lord, in kindenes you could do no lesse,
Vpon report of such a damned fact:
But thus we see our innocence hath sau'd,
The hopeles life which thou Uilluppo sought,
By thy suggestions to haue massacred.
Vice.
Say false Villuppo? wherefore didst thou thus
Faisly 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 deeth,
And not so meane a torment as we heere
Deuisde for him, who thou saidst slew our sonne:
But with the bitterest torments and extreames,
That may be yet inuented for thine end:
Alex. seemes to intreat.
Intreat me not, goe take the traitor hence.
Exit Uil.
And Alexandro let vs honor thee,
With publique notice of thy loyaltie,
To end those things articulated heere,
By our great L. the mightie king of Spaine.
We with our councell will deliberate,
Come Alexandro keepe vs company.
Exeunt.
Enter Hieronimo.
Hiero.
Oh eies, no eies but fountains fraught with teares,
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 incompaeable murder thus,
Of mine, but now no more my sonne,
Shall 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 steps to vnfrequented paths,
And feare 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, shew, send, some man,
Some meane, that may:
A Letter falleth.
Whats heere? a letter, tush, it is not so,
A Letter written to Hieronimo.
Red incke.
Bel.
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 murdred thy Sonne.
Hieronimo, reuenge Horatios death,
And better fare then Bel-imperia doth.
Hiero.
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 thy brother, had he beene the meane?
And to intrap thy life this traine is laide.
Aduise thee therefore, be not credulous:
This is deuised to endanger thee,
That thou by this Lorenzo shouldst accuse,
And he for thy dishonour done, should draw
Thy life in question; and thy name in hate.
Deare was the life of my beloued Sonne,
And of his death behoues me be reueng'd:
Then hazard not thine owne Hieronimo,
But liue t'effect thy resolution.
I therefore will by circumstances trie,
What I can gather to confirme this writ,
And harkning neere the Duke of Castiles house,
Close if I can with Belimperia,
To listen more, but nothing to bewray.
Enter Pedringano.
Hiero.
Now Pedringano.
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 for my Lady Bel-imperia.
Lor.
What to doo Hieronimo? The Duke my father hath
Vpon some disgrace a while remoou'd her hence,
But if it be ought I may enforme her of,
Tell me Hieronimo, and ile let her know it.
Hiero.
Nay, nay my Lord, I thank you, it shall not need,
I had a sute vnto her, but too late,
And her disgrace makes me vnfortunate.
Lor.
Why so Hieronimo? vse me.
Hiero.
Oh no my Lord, I dare not, it must not be.
I humbly thank your Lordship.
Lor.
Why then farewell.
My griefe no 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 prethee so resolue,
Meet Serberine at S. Liugis 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 to him to meet
The Prince and me, where thou must doe this deed.
Ped.
It shalbe done my L. 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.
Page.
My Lord.
Lor.
Goe sirra to Serberine, and bid him forthwith,
Meet the Prince and me at S. Liugis Parke,
Behinde the house, this euening boy.
Page.
I goe my Lord.
Bid him not faile.
Page.
I flye my Lord.
Exit.
Lor.
Now to confirme the complot thou hast cast,
Of all these practises, 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 practise to preuent mishap,
And thus one ill, another must expulse.
This slie enquiry of Hieronimo for Bel-imperia, breeds suspition,
And this 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 its 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 shalbe my freend,
For dye they shall, slaues are ordeind to no other end.
Exit.
Enter Pedringano with a Pistoll.
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 stretcht,
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
Besides, this place is free from all suspect:
Heere therefore will I stay and take my stand.
Enter the watch.
1
I wonder much to what intent it is,
That we are thus expresly chargde to watch?
2
Tis by commandement in the Kings own name.
3
But we were neuer wont to watch and ward,
So neere the Duke his brothers house before.
2
Content your selfe, stand close, theres somewhat in't.
Enter Serberine.
Ser.
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.
Heere comes the bird that I must ceaze vpon,
Now Pedringano or neuer play the man.
Ser.
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.
1
Harke Gentlemen, this is a Pistol shot.
2
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 hand on me, ile be his Priest,
3
Sirra, confesse, and therein play the Priest,
Why hast thou thus vnkindely kild the man?
Ped.
Why, because he walkt abroad so late.
3
Come sir, you had bene better kept your bed,
Then haue committed this misdeed so late.
2
Come to the Marshals with the murderer.
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.
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 in expected harmes do hurt vs most.
Bal.
Why tell me Don Lorenzo, tell me man,
If ought concernes our honour and your owne?
Lor.
Nor you nor me my Lord, but both in one.
For I suspect, and the presumptions great,
That by those base confederates in our fault,
Touching the death of Don Horatio:
We are betraide to olde Hieronimo.
Bal.
Betraide Lorenzo, tush it cannot be.
Lor.
A guiltie conscience vrged with the thought,
Of former euils, easily can not erre:
I am perswaded, and diswade me not,
That als reuealed to Hieronimo.
And therefore know that I haue cast it thus:
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,
With your complaints vnto my L. 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 his damned deed.
Exit Balt.
Lor.
Why so, this fits our former pollicie,
And thus experience bids the wise to 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 meane to holde their owne,
Must look like fowlers to their dearest freends.
He runnes to kill whome I haue holpe to catch,
And no man knowes it was my reaching fatch.
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 Pedringano that's imprisoned.
Lor.
So, he is in prison then?
Mes.
I my good Lord.
Lor.
What would he with vs?
He writes vs heere to stand good L. 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.
This works like waxe, yet once more try thy wits,
Thou knowest the prison, closely giue it him:
And be aduisde that none be 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 onely 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 que voglio It nessun le sa,
Intendo to quel mi bassara.
Exit.
Enter Boy with the Boxe.
My Maister hath forbidden me to looke 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 mens-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
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 al presuming of his pardon
from hence. Wilt not be an odde iest, for me to stand and
grace euery iest he makes, pointing my fingers at this boxe: as
who would say, mock on, heers thy warrant. Ist not a scuruie
iest, that a man should iest himselfe to death. Alas poore
Pedringano, I am in a sorte sorie for thee, but if I should be
hanged with thee, I cannot weep.
Exit.
Enter Hieronimo and the Deputie.
Hiero.
Thus must we toyle in other mens extreames,
That know not how to remedie our owne,
And doe them iustice, when vniustly we:
For all our wrongs can compasse no redresse.
But shall I neuer liue to see the day,
That I may come (by iustice of the heauens)
To know the cause that may my cares allay?
This toyles my body, this consumeth age,
That onely 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, and 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:
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 Marshallship
First I confesse, nor feare I death therfore,
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 Pedringano.
Ped.
Now I think not so.
Hiero.
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 faults approued and confest,
Hnd by our law he is condemnd to die.
Hang.
Come on sit, are you ready?
Ped.
To doo what, my fine officious knaue?
Hang.
To goe to this geere.
Ped.
O sir, you are to forward, thou wouldst faine furnish
me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit.
So I should 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 truely, come are you ready.
I pray sir dispatch, the day goes away.
What doe you hang by the howre, if you doo, I may
chance to break your olde custome.
Hang.
Faith you haue 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 the
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 trusse?
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 boxes 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 prethee request this good company to pray with
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 set so light,
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.
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, conuay him hence,
But let his body be vnburied.
Let not the earth be choked or infect.
With that which heauens contemnes and men neglect.
Exeunt.
Enter Hieronimo.
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 the leaueles 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,
Solliciting for iustice and reuenge:
But they are plac't in those imperiall heights,
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 merrie conceits.
Hiero.
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. worship.
Exit Hangmon.
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.
My Lord, J write as mine extreames requirde,
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, Balthazar and thou,
Of whom my Sonne, 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 venged or reueald.
Now see I what I durst not then suspect,
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 would not leaue.
O false Lorenzo, are these thy flattering lookes?
Is this the honour that thou didst my Sonne?
And Balthazar bane to thy soule and me,
Was this the ransome he reseru'd thee for?
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.
Enter Isabell and her Maid.
Isa.
So that you say this hearb will purge the eye
And this the head, ah but none of them will purge the hart:
No, thers no medicine left for my disease,
Nor any phisick to recure the dead:
She runnes lunatick.
Horatio, O wheres Horatio.
Maide.
Good Madam, affright not thus yourselfe,
With outrage for your sonne Horatio.
He sleepes in quiet in the Elizian fields.
Jsa.
Why did I not giue you gownes and goodly things,
Bought you a whistle and a whipstalke too:
Maid.
Madame these humors doe torment my soule.
Isa.
My soule, poore soule thou talkes of things
Thou knowst not what, my soule hath siluer wings,
That mounts me vp vnto the highest heauens,
To heauen, I there sits my Horatio,
Backt with a troup offiery Cherubins,
Dauncing about his newly healed wounds
Singing sweet hymnes and chaunting heauenly notes,
Rare hermony to greet his innocence,
That dyde, I dyde a mirrour in our daies.
But say, where shall I finde, the men, the murderers,
That flew Horatio, whether shall I runne,
To finde them out, that murdered my Sonne.
Exeunt.
Bel-imperia at a window.
Bel.
What meanes this outrage that is offred me?
Why am I thus sequestred from the Court?
No notice, shall I not know the cause,
Of this my secret and suspitious ils?
Accursed brother, vnkinde murderer.
Why bends thou thus thy minde to martir me?
Hieronimo. why writ I of thy wrongs?
Or why art thou so slacke in thy reuenge?
Andrea, O Andrea that thou sawest,
Me for thy freend Horatio handled thus,
And him for me thus causeles murdered.
Wel, 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 Christophill.
Chris.
Come Madame Bel-imperia, this may not be,
Exeunt.
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.
Thats enough.
As for his resolution in his end,
Leaue that to him with whom he soiourns now.
Heere, take my ring, and giue it Christophill,
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 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 suspitions, onely 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 whirlewinds rage,
Amidst a crew of thy confederates:
And clap me 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.
A duise you better Bel-imperia,
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 Arbour there,
Found Bel-imperia with Horatio.
Bel.
How than?
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 instruement:
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 fauourite 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.
But why had I no notice of his ire?
Lor.
That were to adde more fewell to your fire.
Who burnt like Actne for Andreas losse.
Bel.
Hath not my Father then enquirde for me?
Lor.
Sister he hath, and thus 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 thy presence are increast,
And in whose melanchollie 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 pollitick for me, past all compare,
Since last I 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,
Where with 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 wits are to be busied with.
Bal.
Tis I that loue.
Bel.
Whome?
Bal.
Bel-imperia.
Bel.
But I that feare.
Bal.
Whome?
Bel.
Bel-imperia.
Lor.
Feare your selfe?
Bel.
I brother.
Lor.
How?
Bel.
As those, that what 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.
Est tremulo metui pauidum iunxere timorem,
Exit.
Lor.
Nay, and you argue things so cunningly,
Weele goe continue this discourse at Court,
Bal.
Led by the loadstar of her heauenly lookes,
Wends poore oppressed Balthazar,
As ore the mountains walkes the wanderer,
Incertain to effect his Pilgrimage.
Exeunt.
Enter two Portingales, and Hieronimo meets them.
1
By your leaue Sir.
Hiero.
Good leaue haue you, nay, I pray you goe,
For ile leaue you, if you can leaue me so.
2
Pray you which is the next way to my L. the Dukes.
Hiero.
The next way from me.
1
To his house we meane.
Hiero.
O hard by, tis yon house that you see.
2
You could not tell vs, if his Sonne were there.
Hiero.
Who, my Lord Lorenzo?
1
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 darkesome place and dangerous to passe,
There shall you meet with melancholly thoughts,
Whose balefull humours if you but vpholde,
It will conduct you to dispaire and death:
Whose rockie cliffes, when you haue once behelde,
Within a hugie dale of lasting night,
That kind'ed with the worlds iniquities,
Doth cast vp fil thy and detested fumes.
Not far from thence where murderers haue built,
There in a brazen Caldron fixt by Joue,
In his fell wrath vpon a sulpher flame:
Your selues shall finde Lorenzo bathing him,
In boyling lead and blood of innocents.
1
Ha, ha, ha.
Hiero.
Ha, ha, ha: why ha, ha, ha. Farewell good ha, ha, ha.
Exit.
2
Doubtles this man is passing lunaticke,
Or imperfection of his age doth make him dote.
Come, lets away to seek my Lord the Duke.
Enter Hieronimo with a Ponyard in one hand, and a Rope in the other.
Hiero.
Now Sir, perhaps I come and see the King,
The King sees me, and faine would heare my sute.
Why is not this 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 a fire-brand,
That leads vnto the lake where hell 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 vp againe.
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, Castile, 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, 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 extremely 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 he come himselfe,
To see the marriage rites solemnized,
And in the presence of the Court of Spaine,
To knit a sure inexecrable 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 graee,
Em.
Now last (dread Lord) heere hath his highnes sent,
Although he send not that his Sonne returne,
His ransome due 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 to 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 meanes 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 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 to himselfe,
The ransome of the yong Prince Balthazar.
Distract and in a manner lunatick.
King.
Beleeue me Nephew we are sorie fort,
This is the loue that Fathers beare their sonnes:
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 helplesly 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 Embassador,
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.
Enter Hieronimo with a book in his hand.
Vindicta mihi.
Nor will they suffer murder vnrepaide:
Then stay Hieronimo, attend their will,
For mortall men may not appoint their time.
Per scelus semper taium est sceleribus iter.
For euils vnto ils conductors be.
And death's the worst of resolution.
For he that thinks with patience to contend,
To quiet life, his life shall easily end.
Fata si miseros iuuant habes salutem:
Fata si vitam negant, habes sepulchrum.
If destinie thy miseries doe ease,
Then hast thou health, and happie shalt thou be:
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 certain meane,
Which vnder kindeship wilbe cloked best.
Wise men will take their oportunitie,
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 vnrest,
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,
Remeduim malorum iners est.
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 cuttefie, and thy 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 Seruant.
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.
1
So I tell you this for learning and for law,
Theres 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,
Now must I beare a face of grauitie,
For thus I vsde before my Marshalship,
To pleade in causes as Corrigedor.
Come on sirs, whats the matter?
2
Sir an Action.
Hiero.
Of Batterie?
1
Mine of debt,
Hiero.
Giue place.
2
No sir, mine is an action of the case.
3
Mine an Eiectione firma by a Lease.
Hiero.
Content you sirs, are you determined,
That I should plead your seuerall actions?
1
I sir, and heeres my declaration,
2
And heere is my band.
3
And heere is my lease.
They giue him paper:
Hiero.
But wherefore stands yon silly man so mute,
With mournfull eyes and hands to heauen vprearde?
Come hether father, let me know thy cause.
Senex.
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?
Senex.
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 murdred sonne.
Senex.
I Sir.
Hiero.
No sir, it was my murdred sonne, oh my sonne.
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.
1
Oh, see the kindenes of Hieronimo.
2
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 poore estates:
Hieronimo, When as a raging Sea,
Tost with the winde and tide ore turnest then
The vpper billowes course of waues to keep,
Whilest lesser waters labour in the deepe.
Then shamest thou not Hieronimo to neglect,
The sweet 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:
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 murdred my Sonne,
Then will I rent and teare them thus and thus,
Shiuering their limmes in peeces with my teeth.
Teare the Papers.
1
Oh sir my Declaration.
Exit Hieronimo and they after.
2
Saue my bond.
Enter Hieronimo.
2
Saue my bond.
3
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.
Bazulto remaines till Hieronimo enters againe, who staring him in the face speakes.
Hiero.
And art thou come Horatio from the depth,
To aske for iustice in this vpper earth?
To tell thy Father thou art vnreueng'd,
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 be gone.
For iustice is exiled from the earth:
Heronimo will beare thee company:
Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant,
For iust reuenge against the murderers.
Senex.
Alas my L. whence springs this troubled speech?
Hiero.
But let me looke on my Horatio:
Sweet boy how art thou chang'd in deaths black shade?
But suffered thy fair crimson colourd spring,
With withered winter to be blasted thus?
Horatio, thou art older then thy Father:
Ah ruthlesse 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 Horatioes 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 my Sonne,
Thou art the liuely image of my griefe,
Within thy face, my sorrowes I may see.
Thy eyes are gum'd with teares, thy cheekes are wan,
Thy 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 Jzabell,
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.
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
Uice-roy in our name.
Castile.
I go.
Vice.
Go forth Don Pedro for thy Nephews sake,
And greet the Duke of Castile.
Pedro.
It shall be so.
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 be seemes 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 flatly no.
Vice.
Renowmed 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 thy 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 her and thee,
And let me liue a solitarie life,
In ceaselesse praiers,
To think how strangely heauen hath thee preserued.
King,
See brother, see, how nature striues in him,
Come worthy Vice-roy and accompany
Thy freend, with thine extremities:
A place more priuate fits this princely mood.
Uice.
Or heere or where your highnes thinks it good.
Exeunt all but Cass and Lor.
Cas.
Nay stay Lorenzo, let me talke with you,
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-imprria, 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 towards his Maiestie,
Still keepst him back, and seeks 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 beene 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. my brothers care,
In his behalfe, and to procure his health?
Lorenzo, shouldst thou thwart his passions,
And hee exclaime against thee to the King,
What honour wert in this assembly,
Or what a scandale wert among the Kings,
To heare Hieronimo exclaime on thee.
Tell me, and looke thou tell me truely too,
Whence growes the ground of this report in Court.
Lor.
My L. 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,
Lor.
Your selfe my L. hath seene his passions,
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. that Hieronimo and I,
Were reconcilde, if he misconster me.
Cas.
Lorenzo thou hast said, it shalbe so,
Goe one of you and call Hieronimo.
Enter Balthazar and Bel-imperia.
Bal.
Come Bel-imperie, Balthazars content,
My sorrowes ease and soueraigne of my blisse,
Sith heauen hath ordainde thee to be mine:
Disperce those cloudes and melanchollie lookes,
And cleere them vp with those thy Sunne bright eies,
Wherein my hope and heauens faite beautie lies.
Bel.
My lookes my Lord, are fitting for my loue,
Which new begun, can shew 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.
Truce 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,
And thou art graced with a happier 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: 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.
Hieronimo, my father craues a word with you.
Hiero.
With me sir? why my L. I thought you had done.
Lor.
No, would he had.
Cas.
Hieronimo, I hear you finde your selfe agreeued at my Sonne,
Because you haue not accesse vnto the Kiing,
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 honourable freend?
Graunt me the combat of them, if they dare.
Drawes out his sword.
Ile meet him face to face to tell me so.
These be the scandalous reports of such,
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.
Hero.
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.
Specially with you my louely Lord,
For diuers causes it is sit for vs,
That we be freends, the world is suspitious,
And men may think what we imagine not.
Bal.
Why this is freendly doone Hieronimo.
Lor.
And that 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.
Hiero.
Yor Lordships to commaund,
Pha: keep your way.
Mi. Chi mi fa? Pui Correzza Che non sule
Tradito viha otrade vule.
Exit.
Enter Ghoast and Reuenge.
Ghost.
Awake Erictha, Cerberus awake,
Sollicite Pluto gentle Proserpine,
To combat Achinon and Ericus in hell.
For neere by Stix and Phlegeton:
Nor ferried Caron to the fierie lakes,
Such fearfull sights, as poore Andrea see?
Reuenge.
Awake, for why?
Ghost.
Awake Reuenge, for thou art ill aduisde,
Th 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 or preuailance in hell,
Hieronimo with Lorenzo is ioynde in league,
And intercepts our passage to reuenge:
Awake Reuenge, or we are woe degone.
Reuenge.
Thus worldlings 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 Reuenge 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 shew.
Ghost.
Awake Reuenge, reueale this misterie.
Reuenge.
The two first the nuptiall Torches boare,
As brightly burning as the mid-daies sunne:
But after them doth Himen hie as fast,
Clothed in sable, and a Saffron robe,
And blowes them out, and quencheth them with blood,
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.
The Spanish Tragedie | ||