Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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B00741
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The Spanish tragedy, containing the lamentable murders of Horatio and Bellimperia: with the pitifull death of old Hieronimo. To the tune of Queene Dido..
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1620
(1620)
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STC 23012; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.7[364]; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.7[390a]
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2,310
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1
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The Spanish Tragedy Containing the lamentable Murders of Horatio and Bellimperia With the piâ—tifull Death of old Hieronimo To the tune of Queene Dido Alas it is my son Horatio Murder helpe Hieronimo Stop þer mouth YOu that haue lost you former ioyes And now in woe your liues doe leade Féeding on nought but dire annoyes Thinking your griefes all griefes excéede Assure your selues it is not so Loe here a sight of greater woe Hapless Hieromino was my name On whom fond fortune smtied long But now her flattering smiles blame Her flattering smiles hath done me wrong Would I had dyed in tender yeares Then had not béene this cause of teares I Marshall was in prime of yeares And wonne great honour in the fielde Vntill that age with siâ—uered haires My aged head had ouerspred Then left I warre and stayde at home And gaue my honour to my sonne Horatio my swéet onely childe Prickt-foorth by fames aspiring wings Did so behaue him in the fielde That he Prince Baltazer Captiue brings And with great honour did present Him to the King Incontinent The Duke of Castyles Daughter then Desir'd Horatio to relate The death of her beloued friend Her loue Andreas woofull fate But when she knew who had him slaine Shee vow'd she would reuenge the same Then more to vexe Prince Baltazer Because be slewe her chiefest friend She chose my sonne for her chiefe flower Thereby meaning to worke reuenge But marke what then did straight befall To turne my sweete to bitter gall Lorenzo then to finde the cause Why coat his sister was vnkinde At last he found within a pause How he might sounde her secret minde Which or to bring well to effect To fetch her man he doth direct Who being come into his sight Hâ— threatneth for to rid his life Excepâ— straight wayes he should recite His sisters loue the cause of strife Compell'd therefore to vnfold his mind Sayd with Horatio shee 's combinde The Villaine then for hope of gaine Did straight conuaye them to the place Where these too louers did remaine Ioying in sight of others face And to their foes they did impart The place where they should ioy their heart Prince Baltazer with his compeeres Enters my bower all in the night And there my sonne slayne they vpreare The more to worke my greater spight But as I laye and toke repose A voyce I hard whereat I rose And finding then his senslesse forme The murtherers I sought to finde But missing them I stood forlorne As one amased in his minde And rent and puld my siluered haire And curs'd and bann'd each thing was there And that I would reuenge the same I dipt a napkin in his blood Swearing to worke their woefull baine That so had spoyl'd my cheifest good And that I would not it forget It allwayes at my hart I kept The second part To the same tune THen Isabella my deare wyfe Finding her sonne bereau'd of breath And louing him dearer then life Her owne hand straight doth worke her death And now their deaths doth meet in one My griefes are come my Ioyes are gone Then frantickly I ran about Filling the ayre with mournefull groanes Because I had not yet found out The murtherers to ease my mones I rent and tore each thing I got And sayd and did I knew not what Thus as I past the streets hard by The Duke of Castiles house as then A Letter there I did espy Which show'd Horatios wofull end Which Bellimperia foorth had flung From prison where they kept her strong Then to the Court forthwith I went And of the King did Iustice craue But by Lorenzos bad intent I hindred was which made me raue Then vexed more I stamp'd and frown'd And with my ponyard ript the ground But false Lorenzo put mee out And tolde the King then by and by That frantickly I ran about And of my sonne did alwayes cry And say'd t were good I should resigne My Marshall-ship which grieu'd my mind The Duke of Castyle hearing then How I did grudge still at his sonne Did send for me to make vs friends To stay the rumour then begune Whereto I straight way gaue consent Although in heart I neuer meant Sweete Bellimperia comes to me Thinking my sonne I had forgot To see me with his foes agree The which I neuer meant God wot But when wee knew each others mind To worke reuenge a meane I find Then Bloody Baltazar enters in Entreating me to show some sport Vnto his Father and the King That to his nuptiall did resort Which gladly I prepar'd to show Because I knew twoul'd worke their woe And from the Chronicles of Spaine I did record Erastus life And how the Turke had him so slayne And straight reuenge wrought by his wife Then for to act this Tragedy I gaue their parts Immediatly Sweete Bellimperia Baltazar killes Because he slew her dearest friend And I Lorenzos blood did spill And eke his soule to hell did send Then dyed my foes by dint of knife But Bellimperia ends her life Then for to specific my wronges With weeping eyes and mournefull hart I shew'd my sonne with bloody wounds And eke the murtherers did impart And sayd my sonne was as deare to me as thine or thine though Kinges you be But when they did behold this thing How I had slayne their onely sonnes The Duke the Viceroy and the King Vppon me all they straight did run To torture me they doe prepare Vnlesse I should it straight declare But that I would not tell it then Euen with my téeth I bit my tongue And in despite did giue it them That me with torments sought to wrong Thus when in age I sought to rest Nothing but sorrowes me opprest They knowing well that I could write Vnto my hand a pen did reach Meaning thereby I should recite The authors of this bloody fâ—â—ch Then fained I my pen was naught And by strange signes a knife I sought But when to me they gaue the knife I kill'd the Dake then standing by And eke my selfe bereau'd of life For I to sée my sonne did hye The Kinges that scorn'd my griefes before With nought can they theire Ioyes restore Here haue you heard my Tragicke tale Which on Horatio's death depends Whose death I could anew bewayle But that in it the murtherers ends For murther god will bring to light Though long it be his from mans sight Printed at London for H. Gosson FINIS