The Spanish Tragedy Part 12

LOR. What's he?

MES. I have a letter to your lordship.

LOR. From whence?

MES. From Pedringano that's imprison'd.

LOR. So he is in prison then?

MES. Aye, my good lord.

LOR. What would he with us?

[Reads the letter.]

He writes us here To stand good lord and help him in distress.

Tell him I have his letters, know his mind; And what we may, let him a.s.sure him of.

Fellow, be gone; my boy shall follow thee.

Exit MESSENGER.

[Aside] This works like wax! Yet once more try thy wits.-- Boy, go convey this purse to Pedringano,-- Thou know'st the prison,--closely give it him, And be advis'd that none be thereabout.

Bid him be merry still, but secret; And, though the marshall sessions be today, Bid him not doubt of his delivery.

Tell him his pardon is already sign'd, And thereon bid him boldly be resolv'd; For, were he ready to be turned off,-- As 'tis my will the uttermost be tried,-- Thou with his pardon shalt attend him still.

Show him this box, tell him his pardon's in't; But open't not, and if thou lov'st thy life, But let him wisely keep his hopes unknown.

He shall not want while Don Lorenzo lives.

Away!

PAGE. I go, my lord, I run!

LOR. But, sirrah, see that this be cleanly done.

Exit PAGE.

Now stands our fortune on a tickle point, And now or never ends Lorenzo's doubts.

One only thing is uneffected yet, And that's to see the executioner,-- But to what end? I list not trust the air With utterance of our pretence therein, For fear the privy whisp'ring of the wind Convey our words amongst unfriendly ears, That lie too open to advantages.

Et quel che voglio io, nessun lo sa, Intendo io quel mi bastera.

Exit.

[ACT III. SCENE 5.]

[A street.]

Enter BOY with the box.

[BOY.] My master hath forbidden me to look in this box, and, by my troth, 'tis likely, if he had not warned me, I should not have had so much idle time; for we men-kind in our minority are like women in their uncertainty; that they are most forbidden, they will soonest attempt; so I now. By my bare honesty, here's nothing but the bare empty box! Were it not sin against secrecy, I would say it were a piece of gentlemanlike knavery. I must go to Pedringano and tell him his pardon is in this box! Nay, I would have sworn it, had I not seen the contrary. I cannot choose but smile to think how the villain will flout the gallows, scorn the audience, and descant on the hangman, and all presuming of his pardon from hence. Will't not be an odd jest, for me to stand and grace every jest he makes, pointing my finger at this box, as who should say: "Mock on, here's thy warrant!" Is't not a scurvy jest that a man should jest himself to death? Alas, poor Pedringano! I am in a sort sorry 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 DEPUTY.

HIERO. Thus must we toil in others men's extremes That know not how to remedy our own, And do them justice, when unjustly we For all our wrongs can compa.s.s no redress.

But shall I never live to see the day That I may come by justice to the Heav'ns To know the cause that may my cares allay?

This toils my body, this consumeth age, That only I to all men just must be, And neither G.o.ds nor men be just to me!

DEP. Worthy Hieronimo, your office asks A care to punish such as do transgress.

HIERO. So is't my duty to regard his death Who when he liv'd deserv'd my dearest blood.

But come; for that we came for, let's begin; For here lies 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 nearer matter that concerneth him, For fear his lordship had forgotten me; But, sith he hath remember'd me so well, Come, come, come on! when shall we to this gear?

HIERO. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men, And here, for satisfaction of the world, Confess thy folly and repent thy fault, For there's thy place of execution.

PED. This is short work! Well, to your martiallship First I confess, nor fear I death therefore, I am the man,--'twas I slew Serberine.

But, sir, then you think this shall be the place Where we shall satisfy you for this gear?

DEPU. Aye, Pedrigano.

PED. No I think not so.

HEIRO. Peace, impudent! for thou shalt find it so; For blood with blood shall, while I sit as judge, Be satisfied, and the law discharg'd.

And, though myself cannot receive the like, Yet will I see that others have their right.

Dispatch! the fault approved and confess'd, And by our law he is condemn'd to die.

HANG. Come on, sir! are you ready?

PED. To do what, my fine officious knave?

HANG. To go to this gear.

PED. O, sir, you are to forward; thou wouldst fain furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit.

So should I go out of this gear, my raiment, into that gear, the rope. But, hangman, now I spy your knavery, I'll not change without boot; that's flat.

HANG. Come, sir.