The Spanish Tragedy Part 14

HANG. You will stand between the gallows and me?

HIERO. Aye, aye!

HANG. I thank your lord's worship.

Exit HANGMAN.

HIERO. And yet, though somewhat nearer me concerns I will, to ease the grief that I sustain, Take truce with sorrow while I read on this.

[Reads] "My lord, I writ, as mine extremes requir'd, That you would labour my delivery: If you neglect, my life is desperate, And in my death I shall reveal the troth.

You know, my lord, I slew him for your sake, And was confed'rate with the prince and you; Won by rewards and hopeful promises, I holp to murder Don Horatio too."-- Holp he to murder mine Horatio?

And actors in th' accursed tragedy Wast thou, Lorenzo? Balthazar and thou, Of whom my son, my son deserv'd so well?

What have I heard? what have mine eyes beheld?

O sacred heav'ns, may it come to pa.s.s That such a monstrous and detested deed, So closely smoother'd and so long conceal'd, Shall thus by this be venged or reveal'd?

Now see I what I durst not then suspect, That Bel-imperia's letter was not feign'd, Nor feigned she, though falsely they have wrong'd Both her, myself, Horatio and themselves.

Now may I make compare 'twixt hers and this Of every accident. I ne'er could find Till now, and now I feelingly perceive, They did what Heav'n unpunish'd should not leave.

O false Lorenzo! are these thy flattering looks?

Is this the honour that thou didst my son?

And, Balthazar,--bane to thy soul and me!-- What this the ransom he reserv'd for thee?

Woe to the cause of these constrained wars!

Woe to thy baseness and captivity!

Woe to thy birth, thy body and thy soul, Thy cursed father, and thy conquer'd self!

And bann'd with bitter execrations be The day and place where he did pity thee!

But wherefore waste I mine unfruitful words, When naught but blood will satisfy my woes?

I will go plain me to my lord the king, And cry aloud for justice through the court, Wearing the flints with these my wither'd feet, And either purchase justice by entreats Or tire them all with my revenging threats.

Exit.

[ACT III. SCENE 8.]

[HIERONIMO's house.]

Enter ISABELL and her MAID.

ISA. So that you say this herb will purge the eyes, And this the head? Ah! but none of them will purge the heart!

No, there's no medicine left for my disease, Nor any physic to recure the dead.

She runs lunatic.

Horatio! O, where's Horatio?

MAID. Good madam, affright not thus yourself With outrage for your son Horatio; He sleeps in quiet in the Elysian fields.

ISA. Why did I not give you gowns and goodly things, Bought you a whistle and a whipstalk too, To be revenged on their villainies?

MAID. Madame, these humors do torment my soul.

ISA. My soul? poor soul, thou talk'st of things Thou know'st not what! My soul hath silver wings, That mounts me up unto the highest heav'ns-- To heav'n? Aye, there sits my Horatio, Back'd with troop of fiery cherubins Dancing about his newly healed wounds, Singing sweet hymns and chanting heav'nly notes, Rare harmony to greet his innocence, That died, aye, died a mirror in our days!

But say, where shall I find the men, the murderers, That slew Horatio? whether shall I run To find them out, that murdered my son?

Exeunt.

[ACT III. SCENE 9.]

[The DUKE's castle.]

BEL-IMPERIA at a window.

BEL. What means this outrage that is offer'd me?

Why am I thus sequester'd from the court?

No notice? shall I not know the cause Of these my secret and suspicious ills?

Accursed brother! unkind murderer!

Why bend'st thou thus thy mind to martyr me?

Hieronimo, why writ I of thy wrongs, Or why art thou so slack in thy revenge?

Andrea! O Andrea, that thou sawest Me for thy friend Horatio handled thus, And him for me thus causeless murdered!

Well, force perforce, I must constrain myself To patience, and apply me to the time, Till Heav'n, as I have hop'd, 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, talk no further; thus far things go well.

Thou art a.s.sur'd that thou sawest him dead?

PAGE. Or else, my lord, I live not.

LOR. That's enough.

As for this resolution at his end, Leave that to him with whom he sojourns now.

Here, take my ring, and give 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 policy, To smooth and keep the murder secret, Which as a nine days wonder being o'er-blown, My gentle sister will I now enlarge.