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].