Chapter 4
HIERO. Thus must we toyle in others mens extreames That know not how to rememdie our owne, And doe them iusties, when vniustly we For all our wrongs can compasse no redrese. But shall I neuer liue to see the day That I may come by iustice to the Heauens To know the cause that may my cares allay? This toyles my body, this consumeth age, That onley 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, & 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; But, sith he hath rememberd me so well, 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 martiallship First I confesse, nor feare I death therefore, 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, Pedrigano.
PED. No I think not so.
HEIRO. 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 fault approued and confest, And by our law he is condemned to die.
HANG. Come on, sir! are you ready?
PED. To do what, my fine officious knaue?
HANG. To goe to this geere.
PED. O, sir, you are to forward; thou woulst faine furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit. So should I 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, truly. Come, are you ready? I pray [you], sir, dispatch, the day goes away.
PED. What, doe you hang by the howre? If you doo, I may chance to break your olde custome.
HANG. Faith, you haue [no] 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 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 truss?
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 boxe, 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 prithee, request this good company to pray [for] 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 are so light, And where the soule that should be shrinde in heauen 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[NIMO].
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, conuey him hence; But let his body be vnburied. Let not the earth be chokt or infect What that which Heauens contemnes and men neglect.
Exeunt.
[ACT III. SCENE 7.]
[HIERONIMO's house.]
Enter HIERONIMO.
HIER. 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 to leaueless 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, Soliciting for iustice and reuenge. But they are plac't in those imperiall heights, Where, countermurde with walles of diamond, 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 merie conceits--
HIER. 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[ord] worship.
Exit HANGMAN.
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. [Reads] "My lord, I writ, as mine extreames require, 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? Bathazar and thou, Of whome my sone, 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 [revenged] or reuealed? Now see I, what I durst not then suspect, That Bel-imperias letter was not fainde, 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 [should] not leaue. O false Lorenzo! are these thy flattering lookes? Is this honour that thou didst my sonne? And, Balthazar,--bane to thy soule and me!-- What this the ransome he reseru'd [for thee]? 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.
[ACT III. SCENE 8.]
[HIERONIMO's house.]
Enter ISABELL and her MAID.
ISA. So that you say this hearb will purge the [eyes], And this the head? ah! but none of them will purge the hart! No, thers no medicine left for my disease, Nor any physick to recure the dead.
She runnes lunatick.
Horatio! O, wheres Horatio?
MAIDE. Good madam, affright not thus your-selfe With outrage for your sonne Horatio; He sleepes in quiet in the Elizian fields.
ISA. Why did I not giue you gownes and goodly things, Bought you a wistle and a whipstalke too, To be reuenged on their villanies?
MAIDE. Madame, these humors doe torment my soule.
ISA. My soule? poore soule, thou talkes of things Thou knowest not what! My soule hath siluer wings, That mounts me vp vnto the highest heauens-- To heauen? I, there sits up Horatio, Backt with troup of fierry cherubins Dauncing about his newly healed wounds, Singing sweet hymns and chaunting heauenly notes, Rare harmony to greet his innocence, That dyde, I, dyde a mirrour in our daies! But say, where shall I finde, the men, the murderers, That slew Horatio? whether shall I runne To finde them out, that murdered my sonne?
Exeunt.
[ACT III. SCENE 9.]
[The DUKE's castle.]
BEL-IMPERIA at a window.
BEL. What meanes this outrage that is offred me? What am I thus sequestred from the court? No notice? shall I not know the cause Of these my secret and suspitious ils? Accursed brother! vnkinde murderer! Why bends thou thus thy minde to martir me? Hieronimo, why writ I of they wrongs, Or why art thou so slack in thy reuenge? Andrea! O Andrea, that thou sawest Me for thy freend Horatio handled thus, And him for me thus causeles murdered! Well, 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 [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, talke no further; thus farre things goe well. Thou art assurde that thou sawest him dead?
PAGE. Or els, my lord, I liue not.
LOR. Thats enough. As for this resolution at his end, Leaue that to him with whom he soiourns now. Heere, take my ring, and giue 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 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 have 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 suspititons; only 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 whirlwinds rage Amidst a crew of thy confederates, And clap my 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. Aduise you better, Bel-imperia; For I haue done you no disparagement,-- 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 arbor there Found Bel-imperia with Horatio--
BEL. How then?
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 instrument? 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 fauorite 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.
BEL. But why I had no notice of his ire?
LOR. That were to adde more fewell to your fire, Who burnt like Aetne for Andreas losse.
BEL. Hath not my father then enquird for me?
LOR. Sister, he hath; and this 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 the presence are increast, And in whose melachollie 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 politick for me, past all compare, Since I last 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, Wherewith 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 wit are to be busied with.
BAL. Tis that I loue thee.
BEL. Whome?
BAL. Bel-imperia.
BEL. But that I feare?
BAL. Whome?
BEL. Bel-imperia.
LOR. Feare your-selfe?
BEL. I, brother.
LOR. How?
BEL. As those That, [when] 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; Et tremulo metui pauidum iunxere timorem, Et vanum stolidae proditionis opus.
Exit.
LOR. Nay, and you argue things so cunningly, Weele goe continue this discourse at court.
BAL. Led by the loadstar of heauenly lookes, Wends poore oppressed Balthazar, As ore the mountains walkes the wanderer Incertain to effect his pilgrimage.
Exeunt.
[ACT III. SCENE 11.]
[A street.]
Enter two PORTINGALES, and HIERONIMO meets them.
I PORT. By your leaue, sir.
[The following is inserted in the 1618, 1623, and 1633 editions.]
HIER. Tis neither as you thinke, nor as you thinke, Nor as you thinke, you'r wide all: These slippers are not mine, they were my sonne Horatios. My sonne? And what's a sonne? A thing begot Within a paire of minutes, there-about; A lump bred up in darknesse, and doth serue To ballance those light creatures we call women, And at nine monethes end creepes foorth to light. What is there yet in a sonne to make a father Dote, rave or runne mad? Being born, it pouts, Cries, and breeds teeth. What is there yet in a sonne? He must be fed, be taught to goe and speake. I, and yet? Why might not a man love A calfe as well, or melt in passion over A frisking kid, as for a sonne? Me thinkes A young bacon or a fine smooth little horse-colt Should moove a man as much as doth a son; For one of these in very little time Will grow to some good use, whereas a sonne, The more he growes in stature and in yeeres, The more unsquar'd, unlevelled he appeares, Reckons his parents among the ranke of fooles, Strikes cares upon their heads with his mad ryots, Makes them looke old before they meet with age.-- This is a son! And what a losse were this, Considered truely! Oh, but my Horatio Grew out of reach of those insatiate humours: He lovd his loving parents, he was my comfort And his mothers joy, the very arme that did Hold up our house, our hopes were stored up in him. None but a damned murderer could hate him! He had not seene the backe Of nineteene yeere, when his strong arme unhorst The proud prince Balthazar; and his great minde, Too full of honour tooke him unto mercy, That valient but ignoble Portingale. Well! Heaven is Heaven still! And there's Nemesis, and Furies, And things called whippes, and they sometimes doe meet With murderers! They doe not alwayes scape,-- That is some comfort! I, I, I; and then Time steales on, and steales and steales, till violence Leapes foorth like thunder wrapt in a ball of fire, And so doth bring confusion to them all.
[End of insertion.]
Good leaue haue you; nay, I pray you goe, For Ile leaue you, if you can leaue me so.
II PORT. Pray you, which is the next way to my l[ord] the dukes?
HIERO. The next way from me.
I PORT. To the house, we meane.
HIERO. O hard by; tis yon house that you see.
II PORT. You could not tell vs if his sonne were there?
HIERO. Who? my lord Lorenzo?
I PORT. 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 darksome place and dangerous to passe,-- There shall you meet with melancholy thoughts Whose balefull humours if you but [behold], It will conduct you to dispaire and death: Whose rockie cliffes when you haue once behelde, Within a hugie dale of lasting night, That, kindled with worlds of iniquities, Doth cast vp filthy and detested fumes,-- Not far from thence where murderers haue built A habitation for their cursed soules, There, in a brazen caldron fixed by Iove In his fell wrath vpon a sulpher flame, Your-selues shall finde Lorenzo bathing him In boyling lead and blood of innocents.
I PORT. Ha, ha, ha!
HIERO. Ha, ha, ha! why, ha, ha, ha! Farewell, good ha, ha, ha!
Exit.
II PORT. Doubtles this man is passing lunaticke, Or imperfection of his age doth make him dote. Come, lets away to seek my lord the duke.
[Exeunt.]
[ACT III. SCENE 12.]
[The Spanish court.]
Enter HIERONIMO with a ponyard in one hand, and a rope in the other.
HIERO. Now, sir, perhaps I come to see the king, The king sees me, and faine would heare my sute: Why, is this not 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 afire-brand, That leades vnto the lake where he 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 up againe.
And heere Ile haue a fling at him, thats flat! 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, CASTILLE, 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! [aside] 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 exreamely 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 be come himselfe To see the marriage rites solemnized And in the presence of the court of Spaine To knit a sure [inextricable] 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 Grace, That bends his liking to my daughter thus.
EM. Now last, dread lord, heere hath his Highnes sent-- Although he send not that his sonne returne-- His ransome doe 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.