Part 2
BAL. What if conceit have laid my heart to gage?
BEL. Pay that you borrow'd, and recover it.
BAL. I die if it return from whence it lies.
BEL. A heartless man, and live? A miracle!
BAL. Aye, lady, love can work such miracles.
LOR. Tush, tush, my lord! let go these ambages, And in plain terms acquaint her with your love.
BEL. What boots complaint, when there's no remedy?
BAL. Yes, to your gracious self must I complain, In whose fair answer lies my remedy, On whose perfection all my thoughts attend, On whose aspect mine eyes find beauty's bower, In whose translucent breast my heart is lodg'd.
BEL. Alas, my lord! These are but words of course, And but devis'd to drive me from this place.
She, going in, lets fall her glove, which HORATIO, coming out, takes up.
HOR. Madame, your glove.
BEL. Thanks, good Horatio; take it for thy pains.
[BEL-IMPERIA exits.]
BAL. Signior Horatio stoop'd in happy time!
HOR. I reap'd more grace that I deserv'd or hop'd.
LOR. My lord, be not dismay'd for what is past; You know that women oft are humorous: These clouds will overblow with little wind; Let me alone, I'll scatter them myself. Meanwhile let us devise to spend the time In some delightful sports and revelling.
HOR. The king, my lords, is coming hither straight To feast the Portingal ambassador; Things were in readiness before I came.
BAL. Then here it fits us to attend the king, To welcome hither our ambassador, And learn my father and my country's health.
Enter the banquet, TRUMPETS, the KING, and AMBASSADOR.
KING. See, lord ambassador, how Spain entreats Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroy's son: We pleasure more in kindness than in wars.
AMBASS. Sad is our king, and Portingal laments, Supposing that Don Balthazar is slain.
BAL. [aside] So am I, slain by beauty's tyranny!-- You see, my lord, how Balthazar is slain: I frolic with the Duke of Castille's son, Wrapp'd every hour in pleasures of the court, And grac'd with favours of his Majesty.
KING. Put off your greetings till our feast be done; Now come and sit with us, and taste our cheer.
Sit to the banquet.
Sit down, young prince, you are our second guest; Brother, sit down; and nephew, take your place. Signior Horatio, wait thou upon our cup, For well thou hast deserved to be honour'd. Now, lordings, fall too: Spain is Portugal, And Portugal is Spain; we both are friends; Tribute is paid, and we enjoy our right. But where is old Hieronimo, our marshall? He promis'd us, in honour of our guest, To grace our banquet with some pompous jest.
Enter HIERONIMO with a DRUM, three KNIGHTS, each with scutcheon; then he fetches three KINGS; they take their crowns and them captive.
Hieronimo, this makes content mine eye, Although I sound not well the mystery.
HIERO. The first arm'd knight that hung his scutcheon up
He takes the scutcheon and gives it to the KING.
Was English Robert, Earle of Gloucester, Who, when King Stephen bore sway in Albion, Arriv'd with five and twenty thousand men In Portingal, and, by success of war, Enforc'd the king, then but a Saracen, To bear the yoke of the English monarchy.
KING. My lord of Portingal, by this you see That which may comfort both your king and you, And make your late discomfort seem the less. But say, Hieronimo: what was the next?
HIERO. The second knight that hung his scutcheon up
He doth as he did before.
Was Edmond, Earle of Kent in Albion. When English Richard wore the diadem, He came likewise and razed Lisbon walls, And took the king of Portingal in fight,-- For which, and other such service done, He after was created Duke of York.
KING. This is another special argument That Portingal may deign to bear our yoke, When it by little England hath been yok'd. But now, Hieronimo, what were the last?
HIERO. The third and last, not least in our account,
Doing as before.
Was, as the rest, a valiant Englishman, Brave John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, As by his scutcheon plainly may appear: He with a puissant army came to Spain And took our King of Castille prisoner.
AMBASS. This is an argument for our viceroy That Spain may not insult for her success, Since English warriors likewise conquer'd Spain And made them bow their knees to Albion.
KING. Hieronimo, I drink to thee for this device, Which hath pleas'd both the ambassador and me: Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou love the king!
Takes the cup of HORATIO.
My lord, I fear we sit but over-long, Unless our dainties were more delicate,-- But welcome are you to the best we have. Now let us in, that you may be dispatch'd; I think our council is already set.
Exeunt omnes.
[CHORUS.]
ANDREA. Come we for this from depth of under ground,-- To see him feast that gave me my death's wound? These pleasant sights are sorrow to my soul: Nothing but league and love and banqueting!
REVENGE. Be still, Andrea; ere we go from hence, I'll turn their friendship into fell despite, Their love to mortal hate, their day to night, Their hope into despair, their peace to war, Their joys to pain, their bliss to misery.
ACTUS SECUNDUS.
[ACT II. SCENE 1.]
[The DUKE's castle.]
Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.
LORENZO. My lord, though Bel-imperia seem thus coy, Let reason hold you in your wonted joy: In time the savage bull sustains the yoke, In time all haggard hawks will stoop to lure, In time small wedges cleave the hardest oak, In time the flint is pierc'd with softest shower; And she in time will fall from her disdain, And rue the sufferance of your friendly pain.
BAL. No; she is wilder, and more hard withal, Then beast or bird, or tree or stony wall! But wherefore blot I Bel-imperia's name? It is my fault, not she that merits blame. My feature is not to content her sight; My words are rude and work her no delight; The lines I send her are but harsh and ill, Such as do drop from Pan and Marsya's quill; My presents are not of sufficient cost; And, being worthless, all my labours lost. Yet might she love me for my valiancy. Aye; but that's slander'd by captivity. Yet might she love me to content her sire. Aye; but her reason masters her desire. Yet might she love me as her brother's friend. Aye; but her hopes aim at some other end. Yet might she love me to uprear her state. Aye; but perhaps she loves some nobler mate. Yet might she love me as her beauty's thrall. Aye; but I fear she cannot love at all.
LOR. My lord, for my sake leave these ecstasies, And doubt not but we'll find some remedy. Some cause there is that lets you not be lov'd: First that must needs be known, and then remov'd. What if my sister love some other knight?
BAL. My summer's day will turn to winter's night.
LOR. I have already found a stratagem To sound the bottom of this doubtful theme. My lord, for once you shall be rul'd by me; Hinder me not what ere you hear or see: By force or fair means will I cast about To find the truth of all this question out. Ho, Pedringano!
PED. Signior.
LOR. Vien qui presto!
Enter PEDRINGANO.
PED. Hath your lordship any service to command me?
LOR. Aye, Pedringano, service of import. And, not to spend the time in trifling words, Thus stands the case: it is not long, thou know'st, Since I did shield thee from my father's wrath For thy convenience in Andrea's love, For which thou wert adjudg'd to punishment; I stood betwixt thee and thy punishment, And since thou knowest how I have favour'd thee. Now to these favours will I add reward, Not with fair words, but store of golden coin And lands and living join'd with dignities, If thou but satisfy my just demand; Tell truth and have me for thy lasting friend.
PED. Whate'er it be your lordship shall demand, My bounden duty bids me tell the truth, If case it lie in me to tell the truth.
LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demand; Whom loves my sister Bel-imperia? For she reposeth all her trust in thee. Speak, man, and gain both friendship and reward: I mean, whom loves she in Andrea's place?
PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andrea's death I have no credit with her as before, And therefore know not if she love or no.
LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe, And fear shall force what friendship cannot win. Thy death shall bury what thy life conceals. Thou die'st for more esteeming her than me!
[Draws his sword.]
PED. Oh stay, my lord!
LOR. Yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee And shield thee from whatever can ensue, And will conceal whate'er proceeds from thee; But, if thou dally once again, thou diest!
PED. If madame Bel-imperia be in love--
LOR. What, villain! ifs and ands?
PED. Oh stay, my lord! she loves Horatio!
BALTHAZAR starts back.
LOR. What! Don Horatio, our knight-marshall's son?
PED. Even him, my lord.
LOR. Now say but how know'st thou he is her love, And thou shalt find me kind and liberal. Stand up, I say, and fearless tell the truth.
PED. She sent him letters,--which myself perus'd,-- Full-fraught with lines and arguments of love, Preferring him before Prince Balthazar.
LOR. Swear on this cross that what thou say'st is true, And that thou wilt conceal what thou hast told.
PED. I swear to both, by him that made us all.
LOR. In hope thine oath is true, here's thy reward. But, if I prove thee perjur'd and unjust, This very sword whereon thou took'st thine oath Shall be the worker of thy tragedy.
PED. What I have said is true, and shall, for me, Be still conceal'd from Bel-imperia. Besides, your Honour's liberality Deserves my duteous service ev'n till death.
LOR. Let this be all that thou shall do for me: Be watchful when and where these lovers meet, And give me notice in some secret sort.
PED. I will, my lord.
LOR. Then thou shalt find that I am liberal. Thou know'st that I can more advance thy state Than she: be therefore wise and fail me not. Go and attend her as thy custom is, Least absence make her think thou dost amiss.
Exit PEDRINGANO.
Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio: Where words prevail not, violence prevails. But gold doth more than either of them both. How likes Prince Balthazar this stratagem?
BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad: Glad, that I know the hind'rer of my love; Sad, that I fear she hates me whom I love; Glad, that I know on whom to be reveng'd; Sad, that she'll fly me if I take revenge. Yet must I take revenge or die myself; For love resisted grows impatient. I think Horatio be my destin'd plague: First, in his hand he brandished a sword, And with that sword he fiercely waged war, And in that war he gave me dangerous wounds, And by those wounds he forced me to yield, And by my yielding I became his slave; Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words, Which pleasing words do harbour sweet conceits, Which sweet conceits are lim'd with sly deceits, Which sly deceits smooth Bel-imperia's ears, And through her ears dive down into her heart, And in her heart set him, where I should stand. Thus hath he ta'en my body by his force, And now by sleight would captivate my soul; But in his fall I'll tempt the Destinies, And either lose my life or win my love.
LOR. Let's go, my lord; our staying stays revenge. Do but follow me, and gain your love; Her favour must be won by his remove.
Exeunt.
[ACT II. SCENE 2.]
[The Duke's Castle]
Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA.
HOR. Now, madame, since by favour of your love Our hidden smoke is turn'd to open flame, And that with looks and words we feed our thought,-- Two chief contents where more cannot be had,-- Thus in the midst of love's fair blandishments Why show you sign of inward languishments?
PEDRINGANO showeth all to the PRINCE and LORENZO, placing them in secret.
BEL. My heart, sweet friend, is like a ship at sea: She wisheth port, where, riding all at ease, She may repair what stormy times have worn, And, leaning on the shore, may sing with joy That pleasure follows pain, and bliss annoy. Possession of thy love is th' only port Wherein my heart, with fears and hopes long toss'd, Each hour doth wish and long to make resort, There to repair the joys that it hath lost, And, sitting safe, to sing in Cupid's choir That sweetest bliss is crown of love's desire.
BALTHAZAR, above.
BAL. O sleep, mine eyes; see not my love profan'd! Be deaf, my ears; hear not my discontent! Die, heart; another joys what thou deserv'st!
LOR. Watch still, mine eyes, to see this love disjoin'd! Hear still, mine ears, to hear them both lament! Live, heart, to joy at fond Horatio's fall!
BEL. Why stands Horatio speechless all this while?
HOR. The less I speak, the more I meditate.
BEL. But whereon dost thou chiefly meditate?
HOR. On dangers past and pleasures to ensue.
BAL. On pleasures past and dangers to ensue!
BEL. What dangers and what pleasures dost thou mean?
HOR. Dangers of war and pleasures of our love.
LOR. Dangers of death, but pleasures none at all!
BEL. Let dangers go; thy war shall be with me, But such a war as breaks no bond of peace. Speak thou fair words, I'll cross them with fair words; Send thou sweet looks, I'll meet them with sweet looks; Write loving lines, I'll answer loving lines; Give me a kiss, I'll countercheck thy kiss: Be this our warring peace, or peaceful war.
HOR. But, gracious madame, then appoint the field Where trial of this war shall first be made.
BAL. Ambitious villain, how his boldness grows!
BEL. Then be thy father's pleasant bow'r the field,-- Where first we vow'd a mutual amity. The court were dangerous; that place is safe. Our hour shall be when Vesper 'gins to rise, That summons home distressful travelers. There none shall hear us but the harmless birds: Haply the gentle nightingale Shall carroll us asleep ere we be ware, And, singing with the prickle at her breast, Tell our delight and mirthful dalliance. Till then, each hour will seem a year and more.
HOR. But, honey-sweet and honourable love, Return we now into your father's sight; Dang'rous suspicion waits on our delight.
LOR. Aye, danger mix'd with jealous despite Shall send thy soul into eternal night!
Exeunt.
[ACT II. SCENE 3.]
[The Spanish court.]
Enter the KING OF SPAIN, PORTINGAL AMBASSADOR, DON CIPRIAN, &c.
KING. Brother of Castille, to the prince's love What says your daughter Bel-imperia?
CIP. Although she coy it, as becomes her kind, And yet dissemble that she loves the prince, I doubt not, aye, but she will stoop in time; And, were she froward,--which she will not be,-- Yet herein shall she follow my advice, Which is to love him or forgo my love.
KING. Then, lord ambassador of Portingal, Advise thy king to make this marriage up For strengthening of our late-confirmed league; I know no better means to make us friends. Her dowry shall be large and liberal; Besides that she is daughter and half heir Unto our brother here, Don Ciprian, And shall enjoy the moiety of his land, I'll grace her marriage with an uncle's gift, And this is it: in case the match go forward, The tribute which you pay shall be releas'd; And, if by Balthazar she have a son, He shall enjoy the kingdom after us.
AMBASS. I'll make the motion to my sovereign liege, And work it if my counsel may prevail.
KING. Do so, my lord; and, if he give consent, I hope his presence here will honour us In celebration of the nuptial day,-- And let himself determine of the time.
AMBASS. Wilt please your Grace command me ought beside?
KING. Commend me to the king; and so, farewell! But where's Prince Balthazar, to take his leave?
AMBASS. That is perform'd already, my good lord.
KING. Amongst the rest of what you have in charge, The prince's ransom must not be forgot: That's none of mine, but his that took him prisoner,-- And well his forwardness deserves reward: It was Horatio, our knight-marshall's son.
AMBASS. Between us there's a price already pitch'd, And shall be sentwith all convenient speed.
KING. Then once again farewell, my lord!
AMBASS. Farwell, my lord of Castile, and the rest!
Exit.
KING. Now, brother, you must make some little pains To win fair Bel-imperia from her will; Young virgins must be ruled by their friends. The prince is amiable, and loves her well; If she neglect him and forgo his love, She both will wrong her own estate and ours. Therefore, whiles I do entertain the prince With greatest pleasure that our court affords, Endeavor you to win your daughter's thought. If she give back, all this will come to naught.
Exeunt.
[ACT II. SCENE 4.]
[HORATIO's garden.]
Enter HORATIO, BEL-IMPERIA, and PEDRINGANO.
HOR. Now that the night begins with sable wings To over-cloud the brightness of the sun, And that in darkness pleasures may be done, Come, Bel-imperia, let us to the bower, And there is safety pass a pleasant hour.
BEL. I follow thee, my love, and will not back, Although my fainting heart controls my soul.
HOR. Why, make you doubt of Pedringano's faith?
BEL. No; he is as trusty as my second self. Go, Pedringano, watch without the gate, And let us know if any make approach.
PED. [aside] Instead of watching, I'll deserve more gold By fetching Don Lorenzo to this match.
Exit PEDRINGANO.
HOR. What means my love?
BEL. I know not what, myself; And yet my heart foretells me some mischance.
HOR. Sweet, say not so; fair Fortune is our friend, And heav'ns have shut up day to pleasure us. The stars, thou see'st, hold back their twinkling shine And Luna hides herself to pleasure us.
BEL. Thou hast prevail'd! I'll conquer my misdoubt, And in thy love and counsel drown my fear. I fear no more; love now is all my thoughts! Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease.
HOR. The more thou sitt'st within these leafy bowers, The more will Flora deck it with her flowers.
BEL. Aye; but, if Flora spy Horatio here, Her jealous eye will think I sit too near.
HOR. Hark, madame, how the birds record by night, For joy that Bel-imperia sits in sight!
BEL. No; Cupid counterfeits the nightingale, To frame sweet music to Horatio's tale.
HOR. If Cupid sing, then Venus is not far,-- Aye, thou art Venus, or some fairer star!
BEL. If I be Venus, thou must needs be Mars; And where Mars reigneth, there must needs be wars.
HOR. Then thus begin our wars: put forth thy hand, That it may combat with my ruder hand.
BEL. Set forth thy foot to try the push of mine.
HOR. But, first, my looks shall combat against thee.
BEL. Then ward thyself! I dart this kiss at thee.
HOR. Thus I return the dart thou throwest at me!
BEL. Nay then, to gain the glory of the field, My twining arms shall yoke and make thee yield.
HOR. Nay then, my arms are large and strong withal: Thus elms by vines are compass'd till they fall.
BEL. O, let me go, for in my troubled eyes Now may'st thou read that life in passion dies!
HOR. O, stay a-while, and I will die with thee; So shalt thou yield, and yet have conquer'd me.
BEL. Who's there? Pedringano? We are betray'd!
Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, SERBERINE, PEDRINGANO, disguised.
LOR. My lord, away with her! take her aside! O sir, forbear, your valour is already tried. Quickly dispatch, my masters.
They hang him in the arbor.
HOR. What, will you murder me?
LOR. Aye; thus! and thus! these are the fruits of love!
They stab him.
BEL. O, save his life, and let me die for him! O, save him, brother! save him, Balthazar! I lov'd Horatio, but he lov'd not me.
BAL. But Balthazar loves Bel-imperia.
LOR. Although his life were still ambitious, proud, Yet is he at the highest now he is dead.
BEL. Murder! murder! help! Hieronimo, help!
LOR. Come, stop her mouth! away with her!
Exeunt.
Enter HIERONIMO in his shirt, &c.
HIERO. What outcries pluck me from my naked bed, And chill my throbbing heart with trembling fear, Which never danger yet could daunt before? Who calls Hieronimo? speak; hear I am! I did not slumber; therefore 'twas no dream. No, no; it was some woman cried for help. And here within this garden did she cry, And in this garden must I rescue her. But stay! what murderous spectacle is this? A man hang'd up, and all the murderers gone! And in the bower, to lay the guilt on me! This place was made for pleasure not for death.
He cuts him down.
Those garments that he wears I oft have seen,-- Alas! it is Horatio, my sweet son! O, no; but he that whilome was my son! O, was it thou that call'dst me from my bed? O, speak, if any spark of life remain! I am thy father. Who hath slain my son? What savage monster, not of human kind, Hath here been glutted with thy harmless blood, And left thy bloody corpse dishonour'd here, For me amidst these dark and dreadful shades To drown thee with an ocean of my tears? O heav'ns, why made you night, to cover sin? By day this deed of darkness had not been. O earth, why didst thou not in time devour The vile profaner of this sacred bower? O poor Horatio, what hadst thou misdone To leese thy life ere life was new begun? O wicked butcher, whatsoe'er thou wert, How could thou strangle virtue and desert? Ay me, most wretched! that have lost my joy In leesing my Horatio, my sweet boy!
Enter ISABELL.
ISA. My husband's absence makes my heart to throb. Hieronimo!
HIERO. Here, Isabella. Help me to lament; For sighs are stopp'd, and all my tears are spent.
ISA. What world of grief--my son Horatio! O where's the author of this endless woe?
HIERO. To know the author were some ease of grief, For in revenge my heart would find relief.
ISA. Then is he gone? and is my son gone too? O, gush out, tears! fountains and floods of tears! Blow, sighs, and raise an everlasting storm; For outrage fits our cursed wretchedness.
HIERO. Sweet lovely rose, ill pluck'd before thy time! Fair, worthy son, not conquer'd, but betray'd! I'll kiss thee now, for words with tears are stay'd.
ISA. And I'll close up the glasses of his sight; For once these eyes were only my delight.
HIERO. See'st thou this handkerchief besmear'd with blood? It shall not from me till I take revenge; See'st thou those wounds that yet are bleeding fresh? I'll not entomb them till I have reveng'd: Then will I joy amidst my discontent, Till then, my sorrow never shall be spent.
ISA. The heav'ns are just, murder cannot be hid; Time is the author of both truth and right, And time will bring this treachery to light.