Part 4
HANG. Aye, and many a fair year after, to truss up many an honester man then either thou or he.
PED. What hath he in his box, as thou thinkst?
HANG. Faith, I cannot tell, nor I care not greatly. Me thinks you should rather hearken to your soul's health.
PED. Why, sirrah hangman, I take it that that is good for the body is likewise good for the soul: and it may be in that box is balm for both.
HANG. Well, thou art even the merriest piece of man's flesh that e'er groaned at my office-door.
PED. Is your roguery become an office, with a knave's name?
HANG. Aye, and that shall all they witness that see you seal it with a thief's name.
PED. I prithee, request this good company to pray for me.
HANG. Aye, marry, sir, this is a good motion! My masters, you see here's a good fellow.
PED. Nay, nay, now I remember me, let them alone till some other time; for now I have no great need.
HIERO. I have not seen a wretch so impudent. O monstrous times where murders are so light, And where the soul that should be shrin'd in heav'n Solely delights in interdicted things, Still wand'ring in the thorny passages That intercepts itself of happiness! Murder? O bloody monster! God forbid A fault so foul should 'scape unpunished! Dispatch and see this execution done; This makes me to remember thee, my son.
Exit HIERONIMO.
PED. Nay, soft! no haste!
DEPU. Why, wherefore stay you? Have you hope of life?
PED. Why, aye.
HANG. As how?
PED. Why, rascal, by my pardon from the king.
HANG. Stand you on that? then you shall off with this.
He turns him off.
DEPU. So, executioner, convey him hence; But let his body be unburied. Let not the earth be choked or infect What that which Heav'ns contemns 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 exclaims that have surcharg'd the air With ceaseless plaints for my deceased son? The blust'ring winds, conspiring with my words, At my lament have mov'd to leafless trees, Disrob'd the meadows of their flower'd green, Made mountains marsh with spring-tides of my tears, And broken through the brazen gates of hell; Yet still tormented is my tortur'd soul With broken sighs and restless passions, That, winged, mount, and hovering in the air, Beat at the windows of the brightest heav'ns, Soliciting for justice and revenge. But they are plac'd in those empyreal heights, Where, countermur'd with walls of diamond, I find the place impregnable, and they Resist my woes and give my words no way.
Enter HANGMAN with a letter.
HANG. O Lord, sir! God bless you, sir! The man, sir,-- Petergade, sir: he that was so full of merry conceits--
HIER. Well, what of him?
HANG. O Lord, sir! he went the wrong way; the fellow had a fair commission to the contrary. Sir, here is his passport, I pray you, sir; we have done him wrong.
HIERO. I warrant thee; give it me.
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 pass 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 assur'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.
BAL. And time, Lorenzo; for my lord the duke, You heard, enquired for her yester-night.
LOR. Why! and, my lord, I hope you heard me say Sufficient reason why she kept away; But that's all one. My lord, you love her?
BAL. Aye.
LOR. Then in your love beware; deal cunningly; Salve all suspicions; only soothe me up, And, if she hap to stand on terms with us, As for her sweet-heart, and concealment so, Jest with her gently; under feigned jest Are things conceal'd that else would breed unrest. But here she comes.
Enter BEL-IMPERIA.
LOR. Now, sister.
BEL. Sister? No! Thou art no brother, but an enemy, Else wouldst thou not have us'd thy sister so: First, to affright me with thy weapons drawn, And with extremes abuse my company; And then to hurry me like whirlwind's rage Amidst a crew of thy confederates, And clap me up where none might come at me, Nor I at any to reveal my wrongs. What madding fury did possess thy wits? Or wherein is't that I offended thee?
LOR. Advise you better, Bel-imperia; For I have done you no disparagement,-- Unless, by more discretion then deserv'd, I sought to save your honour and mine own.
BEL. Mine honour? Why, Lorenzo, wherein is't That I neglect my reputation so As you, or any, need to rescue it?
LOR. His Highness and my father were resolv'd To come confer with old Hieronimo Concerning certain matters of estate That by the viceroy was determined.
BEL. And wherein was mine honour touch'd in that?
BAL. Have patience, Bel-imperia; hear the rest.
LOR. Me, next in sight, as messenger they sent To give him notice that they were so nigh: Now, when I came, consorted with the prince, And unexpected in an arbor there Found Bel-imperia with Horatio--
BEL. How then?
LOR. Why, then, rememb'ring that old disgrace Which you for Don Andrea had endur'd, And now were likely longer to sustain By being found so meanly accompanied, Thought rather, for I knew no readier mean, To thrust Horatio forth my father's way.
BAL. And carry you obscurely somewhere else, Lest that his Highness should have found you there.
BEL. Ev'n so, my lord? And you are witness That this is true which he entreateth of? You, gentle brother, forg'd this for my sake? And you, my lord, were made his instrument? A work of worth! worthy the noting too! But what's the cause that you conceal'd me since?
LOR. Your melancholy, sister, since the news Of your first favorite Don Andrea's death My father's old wrath hath exasperate.
BAL. And better was't for you, being in disgrace, To absent yourself and give his fury place.
BEL. But why I had no notice of his ire?
LOR. That were to add more fuel to your fire, Who burnt like Aetna for Andrea's loss.
BEL. Hath not my father then enquir'd for me?
LOR. Sister, he hath; and this excus'd I thee.
He whispereth in her ear.
But, Bel-imperia, see the gentle prince; Look on thy love; behold young Balthazar, Whose passions by thy presence are increas'd, And in whose melancholy thou may'st see Thy hate, his love, thy flight, his following thee.
BEL. Brother, you are become an orator-- I know not, ay, by what experience-- Too politic for me, past all compare, Since I last saw you. But content yourself; The prince is meditating higher things.
BAL. 'Tis of thy beauty, then, that conquers kings, Of those thy tresses, Ariadne's twines, Wherewith my liberty thou hast surpris'd, Of that thine ivory front, my sorrow's map, Wherein I see no hav'n to rest my hope.
BEL. To love and fear, and both at once, my lord, In my conceit, are things of more import Then women's wit are to be busied with.
BAL. 'Tis I that love.
BEL. Whom?
BAL. Bel-imperia.
BEL. But I that fear.
BAL. Whom?
BEL. Bel-imperia.
LOR. Fear yourself?
BEL. Aye, brother.
LOR. How?
BEL. As those That, when they love, are loath and fear to lose.
BAL. Then, fair, let Balthazar your keeper be.
BEL. No, Balthazar doth fear as well as we; Et tremulo metui pavidum junxere timorem, Est vanum stolidae proditionis opus.
Exit.
LOR. Nay, and you argue things so cunningly, We'll go continue this discourse at court.
BAL. Led by the loadstar of her heav'nly looks, Wends poor oppressed Balthazar, As o'er the mountains walks 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 leave, sir.
HIERO. Good leave have you; nay, I pray you go, For I'll leave you, if you can leave me so.
II PORT. Pray you, which is the next way to my lord the duke's?
HIERO. The next way from me.
I PORT. To the house, we mean.
HIERO. O hard by; 'tis yon house that you see.
II PORT. You could not tell us if his son were there?
HIERO. Who? my lord Lorenzo?
I PORT. Aye, sir.
He goeth in at one door and comes out at another.
HIERO. Oh, forbear, For other talk for us far fitter were! But, if you be importunate to know The way to him and where to find him out, Then list to me, and I'll resolve your doubt: There is a path upon your left hand side That leadeth from a guilty conscience Unto a forest of distrust and fear,-- A darksome place and dangerous to pass,-- There shall you meet with melancholy thoughts Whose baleful humours if you but behold, It will conduct you to despair and death: Whose rocky cliffs when you have once beheld, Within a hugy dale of lasting night, That, kindled with worlds of iniquities, Doth cast up filthy and detested fumes,-- Not far from thence where murderers have built A habitation for their cursed souls, There, in a brazen caldron fix'd by Jove In his fell wrath upon a sulfur flame, Yourselves shall find Lorenzo bathing him In boiling 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. Doubtless this man is passing lunatic, Or imperfection of his age doth make him dote. Come, let's 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 fain would hear my suit: Why, is this not a strange and seld-seen thing That standers-by with toys should strike me mute? Go to, I see their shifts, and say no more; Hieronimo, 'tis time for thee to trudge! Down by the dale that flows with purple gore Standeth a fiery tower; there sits a judge Upon a seat of steel and molten brass, And 'twixt his teeth he holds a fire-brand, That leads unto the lake where he doth stand. Away, Hieronimo; to him be gone: He'll do thee justice for Horatio's death. Turn down this path, thou shalt be with him straight; Or this, and then thou need'st not take thy breath. This way, or that way? Soft and fair, not so! For, if I hang or kill myself, let's know Who will revenge Horatio's murther then! No, no; fie, no! pardon me, I'll none of that:
He flings away the dagger & halter.
This way I'll take; and this way comes the king,
He takes them up again.
And here I'll have a fling at him, that's flat! And, Balthazar, I'll be with thee to bring; And thee, Lorenzo! Here's the king; nay, stay! And here,--aye, here,--there goes the hare away!
Enter KING, AMBASSADOR, CASTILLE, and LORENZO.
KING. Now show, ambassador, what our viceroy saith: Hath he receiv'd the articles we sent?
HIERO. Justice! O, justice to Hieronimo!
LOR. Back! see'st thou not the king is busy?
HIERO. O! is he so?
KING. Who is he that interrupts our business?
HIERO. Not I! [aside] Hieronimo, beware! go by, go by!
AMBASS. Renown'd king, he hath receiv'd and read Thy kingly proffers and thy promis'd league, And, as a man extremely over-joy'd To hear his son so princely entertain'd, Whose death he had so solemnly bewail'd, This, for thy further satisfaction And kingly love, he kindly lets thee know: First, for the marriage of his princely son With Bel-imperia, thy beloved niece, The news are more delightful to his soul Then myrrh or incense to the offended Heav'ns. In person, therefore, will be come himself To see the marriage rites solemnized And in the presence of the court of Spain To knit a sure inextricable band Of kingly love and everlasting league Betwixt the crowns of Spain and Portingal. There will he give his crown to Balthazar, And make a queen of Bel-imperia.
KING. Brother, how like you this our viceroy's love?
CAST. No doubt, my lord, it is an argument Of honourable care to keep his friend And wondrous zeal to Balthazar, his son. Nor am I least indebted to his Grace, That bends his liking to my daughter thus.
AMBASS. Now last, dread lord, here hath his Highness sent-- Although he send not that his son return-- His ransom due to Don Horatio.
HIERO. Horatio? who calls Horatio?
KING. And well remember'd, thank his Majesty! Here, see it given to Horatio.
HIERO. Justice! O justice! justice, gentle king!
KING. Who is that? Hieronimo?
HIERO. Justice! O justice! O my son! my son! My son, whom naught can ransom or redeem!
LOR. Hieronimo, you are not well advis'd.
HIERO. Away, Lorenzo! hinder me no more, For thou hast made me bankrupt of my bliss! Give me my son! You shall not ransom him! Away! I'll rip the bowels of the earth,
He diggeth with his dagger.
And ferry over th' Elysian plains And bring my son to show his deadly wounds. Stand from about me! I'll make a pickaxe of my poniard, And here surrender up my marshallship; For I'll go marshall up the fiends in hell, To be avenged on you all for this.
KING. What means this outrage? Will none of you restrain his fury?
HIERO. Nay, soft and fair; you shall not need to strive! Needs must he go that the devils drive.
Exit.
KING. What accident hath happ'd to Hieronimo? I have not seen him to demean him so.
LOR. My gracious lord, he is with extreme pride Conceiv'd of young Horatio, his son, And covetous of having himself The ransom of the young prince, Balthazar, Distract, and in a manner lunatic.
KING. Believe me, nephew, we are sorry for 't; This is the love that fathers bear their sons. But, gentle brother, go give to him this gold, The prince's ransom; let him have his due; For what he hath, Horatio shall not want. Haply Hieronimo hath need thereof.
LOR. But if he be thus helplessly distract, 'Tis requisite his office be resign'd And giv'n to one of more discretion.
KING. We shall increase his melancholy so. 'Tis best that we see further in it first; Till when, ourself will hold exempt the place. And, brother, now bring in the ambassador, That he may be a witness of the match 'Twixt Balthazar and Bel-imperia, And that we may prefix a certain time Wherein the marriage shall be solemniz'd, That we may have thy lord the viceroy here.
AMBASS. Therein your Highness highly shall content His majesty, that longs to hear from hence.
KING. On then, and hear you, lord ambassador.
Exeunt.
[ACT III. SCENE 13.]
[HIERONIMO's house.]
Enter HIERONIMO with a book in his hand.
[HIERO.] Vindicta mihi. Aye, heav'n will be reveng'd of every ill, Nor will they suffer murder unrepaid! Then stay, Hieronimo, attend their will; For mortal men may not appoint their time. Per scelus semper tutum est sceleribus iter: Strike, and strike home, where wrong is offer'd thee; For evils unto ills conductors be, And death's the worst of resolution. For he that thinks with patience to contend To quiet life, his life shall easily end. Fata si miseros juvant, habes salutem; Fata si vitam negant, habes sepulchrum: If destiny thy miseries do ease, Then hast thou health, and happy shalt thou be; If destiny deny thee life, Hieronimo, Yet shalt thou be assured of a tomb; If neither, yet let this thy comfort be: Heav'n covereth him that hath no burial. And, to conclude, I will revenge his death! But how? Not as the vulgar wits of men, With open, but inevitable ills; As by a secret, yet a certain mean, Which under kindship will be cloaked best. Wise men will take their opportunity, Closely and safely fitting things to time; But in extremes advantage hath no time; And therefore all times fit not for revenge. Thus, therefore, will I rest me in unrest, Dissembling quiet in unquietness, Not seeming that I know their villainies, That my simplicity may make them think That ignorantly I will let all slip; For ignorance, I wot, and well they know, Remedium malorum iners est. Nor aught avails it me to menace them. Who, as a wintry storm upon a plain, Will bear me down with their nobility. No, no, Hieronimo, thou must enjoin Thine eyes to observation, and thy tongue To milder speeches than thy spirit affords, Thy heart to patience, and thy hands to rest, Thy cap to courtesy, and thy knee to bow, Till to revenge thou know when, where and how. How now? what noise, what coil is that you keep?
A noise within.
Enter a SERVANT.
SER. Here are a sort of poor petitioners That are importunate, and it shall please you, sir, That you should plead their cases to the king.
HIERO. That I should plead their several actions? Why, let them enter, and let me see them.
Enter three CITIZENS and an OLD MAN [DON BAZULTO].
I CIT. So I tell you this: for learning and for law There is not any advocate in Spain That can prevail or will take half the pain That he will in pursuit of equity.
HIERO. Come near, you men, that thus importune me! [Aside] Now must I bear a face of gravity, For thus I us'd, before my marshallship, To plead in causes as corrigedor.-- Come on, sirs, what's the matter?
II CIT. Sir, an action.
HIERO. Of battery?
I CIT. Mine of debt.
HIERO. Give place.
II CIT. No, sir, mine is an action of the case.
III CIT. Mine an ejectionae firmae by a lease.
HIERO. Content you, sirs; are you determined That I should plead your several actions?
I CIT. Aye, sir; and here's my declaration.
II CIT. And here is my bond.
III CIT. And here is my lease.
They give him papers.
HIERO. But wherefore stands yon silly man so mute, With mournful eyes and hands to heav'n uprear'd? Come hither, father; let me know thy cause.
SENEX, [DON BAZULTO]. O worthy sir, my cause but slightly known May move the hearts of warlike Myrmidons, And melt the Corsic rocks with ruthful tears!
HIERO. Say, father; tell me what's thy suit!
BAZULTO. No, sir, could my woes Give way unto my most distressful words, Then should I not in paper, as you see, With ink bewray what blood began in me.
HIERO. What's here? "The Humble Supplication Of Don Bazulto for his Murder'd Son."