is this A man hangd vp and all the murderers gone And in my bower to lay the guilt on me This place was made for pleasure not for death He cuts him downe Those garments that he weares I oft haue seene Alas it is Horatio my sweet sonne O no but he that whilome was my sonne O was it thou that call'dst me from my bed O speak if any sparke of life remaine I am thy father who hath slaine my sonne What sauadge monster not of humane kinde Hath heere beene glutted with thy harmeles blood And left thy bloudie corpes dishonoured heere For me amidst this darke and deathfull shades To drowne thee with an ocean of my teares O heauens why made you night to couer sinue By day this deed of darkenes had not beene O earth why didst thou not in time deuoure The vilde prophaner of this sacred bower O poore Horatio what hadst thou misdoone To leese thy life ere life was new begun O wicked butcher what so ere thou wert How could thou strangle vertue and desert Ay me most wretched that haue lost my ioy In leesing my Horatio my sweet boy Enter Isabell Isa. My husbands absence makes my hart to throb Hieronimo Hiero. Heere Isabella helpe me to lament For sighes are stopt and all my teares are spent Isa. What world of griefe my sonne Horatio O where 's the author of this endles woe Hiero. To know the author were some ease of greefe For in reuenge my hart would finde releefe Isa. Then is he gone and is my sonne gone too O gush out teares fountains and flouds of teares Blow sighes and raise an euerlasting storme For outrage fits our cursed wretchednes Hiero. Sweet louely Rose ill pluckt before thy time Faire worthy sonne not conquerd but betraid I le kisse thee now for words with teares are stainde Isa. And I le close vp the glasses of his sight For once these eyes were onely my delight Hiero. Seest thou this handkercher besmerd with blood It shall not from me till I take reuenge Seest thou those wounds that yet are bleeding fresh I le not intombe them till I haue reueng'd Then will I ioy amidst my discontent Till then my sorrow neuer shal be spent Isa. The heauens are iust murder cannot be hid Time is the author both of truth and right And time will bring this trecherie to light Hiero. Meane while good Isabella cease thy plaints Or at the least dissemble them a while So shall we sooner finde the practise out And learne by whom all this was brought about Come Isabell now let vs take him vp They take him vp And beare him in from out this cursed place I le say his dirge singing fits not this case O aliquis mihi quas pulcbrum var educet herbas Hiero sets his brest vnto his sword Misceat nostro detur medicina dolori Aut siquifaciunt annum oblimia succos Prebeat ipse metum magnam quicunque per orbem Gramina Sol pulcbras effecit inluminis oras Ipse bibam quicquid meditatur saga veneri Quicquid irrani euecaca menia nectit Omnia perpetiar letbum quoque dum semel omnis Noster in extincto moriatur pectora sensus Ergo tuos occulos nunquam mea vita videbo Et tua perpetuus sepeliuit lumina somnus Emoriar tecum Sic sic iuuat Ire sub vmbras Attamen absistam proper 〈…〉 Ne mortem vindicta tuam iam nulla sequatur Heere he throwes it from him and beares the body away Andrea Broughtst thou me hether to increase my paine I lookt that Balthazar should haue been slaine But t is my freend Horatis that is slaine And they abuse faire Bel-imperia Or whom I doted more then all the world Because she lou'd me more then all the world Reuenge Thou talkest of haruest when the corne is greene The end is crowne of euery worke well done The Sickle comes not till the corne be ripe Be still and ere I lead thee from this place I le shew thee Balthazar in heauy case Actus Tertius Enter Viceroy of Portingale Nobles Alexandro Villuppo Viceroy INfortunate condition of Kings Seated amidst so many helpeles doubts First we are plast vpon extreamest height And oft supplanted with exceeding heat But euer subiect to the wheele of chance And at our highest never ioy we so As we both doubt and dread our ouerthrow So striueth not the waues with sundry winds As fortune toyleth in the affaires of kings That would be feard yet feare to be beloued Sith feare or loue to Kings is flatteries For instance Lordings look vpon your King By hate depriued of his dearest sonne The onely hope of our succes successive line Nob. I had not thought that Alexandros hart Had beene enuenomde with such extreame hate But now I see that words haue seuerall workes And there 's no credit in the countenance Vil. No for my Lord had you behelde the traine That fained loue had coloured in his lookes When he in campe consorted Belthazar Farre more inconstant had you thought the Sunne That howerly coasts the center of the earth Then Alexandros purpose to the Prince Vice No more Villuppo thou hast said enough And with thy words thou slaiest our wounded thoughts Nor shall I longer dally with the world Procrastinating Alexandros death Goe some of you and fetch the traitor forth That as he is condemned he may dye Enter Alexandro with a Noble man and Halberts Nob. In such extreames will nought but patience serue Alex. But in extreames what patience shall I vse Nor discontents it me to leaue the world With whome there nothing can preuaile but wrong Nob. Yet hope the best Alex. T is Heauen is my hope As for the earth it is too much infect To yeeld me hope of any of her mould Vice Why linger ye bring forth that daring feend And let him die for his accursed deed Alex. Not that I feare the extremitie of death For Nobles cannot stoop to seruile feare Doo I O King thus discontented liue But this O this torments my labouring soule That thus I die suspected of a sinne Whereof as heauens haue knowne my secret thoughts So am I free from this suggestion Vice No more I say to the tortures when Binde him and burne his body in those flames They binde him to the stake That shall prefigure those vnquenched fiers Of Phlegiton prepared for his soule Alex. My guiltles death will be aueng'd on thee On thee Villuppo that hath malisde thus Or for thy meed hast falsely me accusde Vil. Nay Alexandro if thou menace me I le lend a hand to send thee to the lake Where those thy words shall perish with thy workes Iniurious traitour monstrous homicide Enter Embassadour Stay hold a while and heer with pardon of his Maiestie Lay hands vpon Villuppo Vice Embassadour what news hath vrg'd this sodain entrance Em. Know soueraigne L. that Balthazar doth liue Vice What saiest thou liueth Balthazar our sonne Em. Your highnes sonne L. Balthazar doth
THE SPANISH TRAGEdie Containing the lamentable end of Don Horatio and Bel-imperia with the pittifull death of olde Hieronimo Newly corrected and amended of such grosse faults as passed in the first impression AT LONDON Printed by Edward Allde for Edward White ACTVS PRIMVS Enter the Ghoast of Andrea and with him Reuenge Ghoast WHen this eternall substance of my soule Did liue imprisond in my wanton flesh Ech in their function seruing others need I was a Courtier in the Spanish Court My name was Don Andrea my discent Though not ignoble yet inferiour far To gratious fortunes of my tender youth For there in prime and pride of all my yeeres By duteous seruice and deseruing loue In secret I possest a worthy dame Which hight sweet Bel-imperia by name But in the haruest of my sommer ioyes Deaths winter nipt the blossomes of my blisse Forcing diuorce betwixt my loue and me For in the late conflict with Portingale My valour drew me into dangers mouth Till life to death made passage through my wounds When I was slaine my soule descended straight To passe the flowing streame of Acheron But churlish Charon only boatman there Said that my rites of buriall not performde I might not sit amongst his passengers Ere Sol had slept three nights in Thetis lap And slakte his smoaking Charriot in her cloud By Don Horatio our knight Marshals sonne My funerals and obsequies were done Then was the Feriman of hell content To passe me ouer to the slimie strond That leades to fell Auernus ougly waues There pleasing Cerberus with honied speech I past the perils of the formost porch Not farre from hence amidst ten thousand soules Sate Minos Eacus and Rhadamant To whome no sooner gan I make approch To craue a pasport for my wandring Ghost But Minos ingrauen leaues of Lotterie Drew forth the manner of my life and death This knight quoth he both liu'd and died in loue And for his loue tried fortune of the warres And by warres fortune lost both loue and life Why then said Eacus conuay him hence To walke with louers in our fields of loue And spend the course of euerlasting time Vnder greene mirtle trees and Cipresse shades No no said Rhadamant it were not well With louing soules to place a Martialist He died in warre and must to martiall fields Where wounded Hector liues in lasting paine And Achilles mermedons do scoure the plaine Then Minos mildest censor of the three Made this deuice to end the difference Send him quoth he to our infernall King To dome him as best seemes his Maiestie To this effect my pasport straight was drawne In keeping on my way to Plutos Court Through dreadfull shades of euer glooming night I saw more sights then thousand tongues can tell Or pennes can write or mortall harts can think Three waies there were that on the right hand side Was ready way vnto the foresaid fields Where louers liue and bloudie Martialists But either sort containd within his bounds The left hand path declining fearfully Was ready downfall to the deepest hell Where bloudie furies shakes their whips of steele And poore Ixion turnes an endles wheele Where Vsurers are choakt with melting golde And wantons are imbraste with ougly snakes And murderers grone with neuer killing wounds And periurde wights scalded in boyling lead And all soule sinnes with torments ouerwhelmd Twixt these two waies I trod the middle path Which brought me to the faire Elizian greene In midst whereof there standes a stately Towre The walles of brasse the gates of Adamant Heere finding Pluto with his Proserpine I shewed my pasport humbled on my knee Whereat faire Proserpine began to smile And begd that onely she might giue my doome Pluto was pleasd and sealde it with a kisse Forthwith Reuenge she rounded thee in th' eare And bad thee lead me through the gates of Hor Where dreames haue passage in the silent night No sooner had she spoke but we were heere I wot not how in twinkling of an eye Reuenge THen know Andrea that thou art ariu'd Where thou shalt see the author of thy death Don Balthazar the Prince of Portingale Depriu'd of life by Bel-imperia Heere sit we downe to see the misterie And serue for Chorus in this tragedie Enter Spanish King Generall Castile Hieronimo King NOw say L. Generall how fares our Campe Gen. All wel my soueraigne Liege except some few That are deceast by fortune of the warre King But what portends thy cheerefull countenance And posting to our presence thus in hast Speak man hath fortune giuen vs victorie Gen. Victorie my Liege and that with little losse King Our Portingals will pay vs tribute then Gen. Tribute and wonted homage therewithall King Then blest be heauen and guider of the heauens From whose faire influence such iustice flowes Cast. O multum dilecte Deo tibs militat aether Et coniuratae curuato poplito gentes Succumbunt rectiseror est victoria iuris King Thanks to my louing brother of Castile But Generall vnfolde in breefe discourse Your forme of battell and your warres successe That adding all the pleasure of thy newes Vnto the height of former happines With deeper wage and greater dignitie We may reward thy blisfull chiualrie Gen. Where Spaine and Portingale do ioyntly knit Their frontiers leaning on each others bound There met our armies in their proud aray Both furnisht well both full of hope and feare Both menacing alike with daring showes Both vaunting sundry colours of deuice Both cheerly sounding trumpets drums and fifes Both raising dreadfull clamors to the skie That valleis hils and riuers made rebound And heauen it selfe was frighted with the sound Our battels both were pitcht in squadron forme Each corner strongly fenst with wings of shot But ere we ioynd and came to push of Pike I brought a squadron of our readiest shot From out our rearward to begin the fight They brought another wing to incounter vs Meane while our ordinance plaid on either side And Captaines stroue to haue their valours tride Don Pedro their chiefe horse mens Colonell Did with his Cornet brauely make attempt To break the order of our battell rankes But Don Rogero worthy man of warre Marcht forth against him with our Musketiers And stopt the mallice of his fell approch While they maintaine hot skirmish too and fro Both battailes ioyne and fall to handie blowes Their violent shot resembling th' oceans rage When roaring lowd and with a swelling tide It beats vpon the rampiers of huge rocks And gapes to swallow neighbour bounding lands Now while Bellona rageth heere and there Thick stormes of bullets ran like winters haile And shiuered Launces darke the troubled aire Pede pes cuspide cuspis Anni sonant annis vir petiturque viro On euery side drop Captaines to the ground And Souldiers some ill maimde some slaine outright Heere falles a body scindred from his head There legs and armes lye bleeding on the grasse Mingled with weapons and vnboweld steeds That scattering
spight the Prince that wrought his end And where Don Balthazar that slew my loue Himselfe now pleades for fauour at my hands He shall in rigour of my iust disdaine Reape long repentance for his murderous deed For what wa st els but murderous cowardise So many to oppresse one valiant knight Without respect of honour in the fight And heere he comes that murdred my delight Enter Lorenzo and Balthazar Lor. Sister what meanes this melanchollie walke Bel. That for a while I wish no company Lor. But heere the Prince is come to visite you Bel. That argues that he liues in libertie Bal. No Madame but in pleasing seruitude Bel. Your prison then belike is your conceit Bal. I by conceit my freedome is enthralde Bel. Then with conceite enlarge your selfe again Bal. What if conceite haue laid my hart to gage Bel. Pay that you borrowed and recouer it Bal. I die if it returne from whence it lyes Bel. A hartles man and liue A miracle Bal. I Lady loue can worke such miracles Lor. Tush tush my Lord let goe these ambages And in plaine tearmes acquaint her with your loue Bel. What bootes complaint when ther 's no remedy Bal. Yes to your gratious selfe must I complaine In whose faire answere lyes my remedy On whose perfection all my thoughts attend On whose aspect mine eyes finde beauties bowre In whose translucent brest my hart is lodgde Bel. Alas my Lord these are but words of course And but deuise to driue me from this place She in going in lets fall her Gloue which Horatio comming out takes vp Hor. Madame your Gloue Bel. Thanks good Horatio take it for thy paines Bal. Signior Horatio stoopt in happie time Hor. I reapt more grace then I deseru'd or hop'd Lor. My Lord be not dismaid for what is past You know that women oft are humerous These clouds will ouerblow with little winde Let me alone I le scatter them my selfe Meane while let vs deuise to spend the time In some delightfull sports and reuelling Hor. The King my Lords is comming hither straight To feast the Portingall Embassadour Things were in readines before I came Bal. Then heere it fits vs to attend the King To welcome hither our Embassadour And learne my Father and my Countries health Enter the banquet Trumpets the King and Embassadour King See Lord Embassador how Spaine intreats Their prisoner Balthazar thy Viceroyes Sonne We pleasure more in kindenes then in warres Embass. Sad is our King and Portingale laments Supposing that Don Balthazar is slaine Bal. So am I slaine by beauties tirannie You see my Lord how Balthazar is slaine I frolike with the Duke of Castiles Sonne Wrapt euery houre in pleasurs of the Court And graste with fauours of his Maiestie King Put off your greetings till our feast be done Now come and sit with vs and taste our cheere Sit to the banquet Sit downe young Prince you are our second guest Brother sit downe and Nephew take your place Signior Horatio waite thou vpon our cup For well thou hast deserued to be honored Now Lordings fall too Spaine is Portugall And Portugall is Spaine we both are freends Tribute is paid and we enioy our right But where is olde Hieronimo our Marshall He promised vs in honor of our guest To grace our banquet with some pompous iest Enter Hieronimo with a Drum three Knights each his Scutchin then he fetches three Kings they take their Crownes and them captiue Hieronimo this maske contents mine eie Although I sound not well the misterie Hiero. The first arm'd Knight that hung his Scutchin vp He takes the Scutchin and giues it to the King Was English Robert Earle of Glocester Who when king Stephen bore sway in Albion Arriued with fiue and twenty thousand men In Portingale and by successe of warre Enforced the King then but a Sarasin To beare the yoake of the English Monarchie King My Lord of Portingale by this you see That which may comfort both your King and you And make your late discomfort seeme the lesse But say Hieronimo what was the next Hiero. The second Knight that hung his Scutchin vp 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 walles And tooke the King of Portingale in fight For which and other such like seruice done He after was created Duke of Yorke King This is another speciall argument That Portingale may daine to beare our yoake When it by little England hath beene yoakt But now Hieronimo what were the last Hiero. The third and last not least in our account Dooing as before Was as the rest a valiant Englishman Braue Iohn of Gaunt the Duke of Lancaster As by his Scutchin plainely may appeare He with a puissant armie came to Spaine And tooke our King of Castile prisoner Embass. This is an argument for our Viceroy That Spaine may not insult for her successe Since English warriours likewise conquered Spaine And made them bow their knees to Albion King Hieronimo I drinke to thee for this deuise Which hath pleasde both the Embassador and me Pledge me Hieronomo if thou loue the King Takes the Cup of Horatio My Lord I feare we sit but ouer-long Vnlesse our dainties were more delicate But welcome are you to the best we haue Now let vs in that you may be dispatcht I think our councell is already set Exeunt omnes Andrea Come we for this from depth of vnder ground To see him feast that gaue me my deaths wound These pleasant sights are sorrow to my soule Nothing but league and loue and banqueting Reuenge Be still Andrea ere we goe from hence I le turne their freendship into fell despight Their loue to mortall hate their day to night Their hope into dispaire their peace to warre Their ioyes to paine their blisse to miserie Actus Secundus Enter Lorenzo and Balthazar Lorenzo MY Lord though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy Let reason holde you in your wonted ioy In time the sauage Bull sustaines the yoake In time all haggard Hawkes will stoope to lure In time small wedges cleaue the hardest Oake In time the flint is pearst with softest shower And she in time will fall from her disdaine And rue the sufferance of your freendly paine Bal. No she is wilder and more hard withall Then beast or bird or tree or stony wall But wherefore blot I Bel-imperias name It is my fault not she that merites blame My feature is not to content her sight My wordes are rude and worke her no delight The lines I send her are but harsh and ill Such as doe drop from Pan and Marsias quill My presents are not of sufficient cost And being worthles all my labours lost Yet might she loue me for my valiancie I but that 's slaundred by captiuitie Yet might she loue me to content her fire I but her reason masters his desire Yet might she loue me as her brothers freend I but her hopes
my blisse bereft But hope hart treasure ioy and blisse All fled faild died yea all decaide with this From forth these wounds came breath that gaue me life They murdred me that made these fatall markes The cause was loue whence grew this mortall hate The hate Lorenzo and yong Balthazar The loue my sonne to Bel-imperia But night the couerer of accursed crimes With pitchie silence husht these traitors harmes And lent them leaue for they had sorted leasure To take aduantage in my Garden plot Vpon my Sonne my deere Horatio There mercilesse they butcherd vp my boy In black darke night to pale dim cruell death He shrikes I heard and yet me thinks I heare His dismall out-cry eccho in the aire With soonest speed I hasted to the noise Where hanging on a tree I found my sonne Through girt with wounds and slaughtred as you see And greeued I think you at this spectacle Speak Calabrian whose losse resembles mine If thou canst weep vpon thy Balthazar T is like I wailde for my Horatio And you my L. whose reconciled sonne Marcht in a net and thought him selfe vnseene And rated me for brainsicke lunacie With God amend that mad Hieronimo How can you brook our plaies catastrophe And heere beholde this bloudie hand-kercher Which at Horatios death I weeping dipt Within the riuer of his bleeding wounds It as propitious see I haue reserued And neuer hath it left my bloody hart Soliciting remembrance of my vow With these O these accursed murderers Which now perform'd my hart is satisfied And to this end the Bashaw I became That might reuenge me on Lorenzos life Who therefore was appointed to the part And was to represent the Knight of Rhodes That I might kill him more conueniently So Vice-roy was this Balthazar thy Sonne That Soliman which Bel-imperia In person of Perseda murdered Solie appointed to that tragicke part That she might slay him that offended her Poore Bel-imperia mist her part in this For though the story saith she should haue died Yet I of kindenes and of care to her Did otherwise determine of her end But loue of him whom they did hate too much Did vrge her resolution to be such And Princes now beholde Hieronimo Author and actor in this Tragedie Bearing his latest fortune in his fist And will as resolute conclude his parte As any of the Actors gone before And Gentles thus I end my play Vrge no more words I haue no more to say He runs to hang himselfe King O hearken Vice-roy holde Hieronimo Brother my Nephew and thy Sonne are slaine Vice We are betraide my Balthazar is slaine Breake ope the doores runne saue Hieronimo Hieronimo doe but enforme the King of these euents Ypon mine honour thou shalt haue no harme Hiero. Vice-roy I will not trust thee with my life Which I this day haue offered to my Sonne Accursed wretch why staiest thou him that was resolued to die King Speak traitor damned bloudy murderer speak For now I haue thee I will make thee speak Why hast thou done this vndeseruing deed Vice Why hast thou murdered my Balthazar Cas. Why hast thou butchered both my children thus Hiero. O good words as deare to me was my Horatio As yours or yours or yours my L. to you My guiltles Sonne was by Lorenzo slaine And by Lorenzo and that Balthazar Am I at last reuenged thorowly Vpon whose soules may heauens be yet auenged With greater far then these afflictions Cas. But who were thy confederates in this Vice That was thy daughter Bel-imperia For by her hand my Balthazar was slaine I saw her stab him King Why speakest thou not Hiero. What lesser libertie can Kings affoord Then harmeles silence then affoord it me Sufficeth I may not nor I will not tell thee King Fetch forth the tortures Traitor as thou art I le make thee tell Hiero. Indeed thou maiest torment me as his wretched Sonne Hath done in murdring my Horatio But neuer shalt thou force me to reueale The thing which I haue vowd inuiolate And therefore in despight of all thy threats Pleasde with their deaths and easde with their reuenge First take my tung and afterwards my hart King O monstrous resolution of a wretch See Vice-roy hee hath bitten foorth his tung Rather then to reueale what we requirde Cas Yet can he write King And if in this he satisfie vs not We will deuise th e'xtreamest kinde of death That euer was inuented for a wretch Then he makes signes for a knife to mend his pen Cas. O he would haue a knife to mend his Pen Vice Heere and aduise thee that thou write the troth Looke to my brother saue Hieronimo He with a knife stabs the Duke and himselfe King What age hath euer heard such monstrous deeds My brother and the whole succeeding hope That Spaine expected after my discease Go beare his body hence that we may mourne The losse of our beloued brothers death That he may be entom'd what ere befall I am the next the neerest last of all Vice And thou Don Pedro do the like for vs Take vp our haples sonne vntimely slaine Set me with him and he with wofull me Vpon the maine mast of a ship vnmand And let the winde and tide hall me along To Sallas barking and vntamed greefe Or to the loth some poole of Acheron To weepe my want for my sweet Balthazar Spaine hath no refuge for a Portingale The Trumpets sound a dead march the King of Spaine mourning after his brothers body and the King of Portingale bearing the body of his Sonne Enter Ghoast and Reuenge Ghoast I now my hopes haue end in their effects When blood and sorrow finnish my desires Horatio murdered in his Fathers bower Vilde Serberine by Pedringano slaine False Pedringano hangd by quaint deuice Faire Isabella by her selfe misdone Prince Balthazar by Bel-imperia stabd The Duke of Castile and his wicked Sonne Both done to death by olde Hieronimo My Bel-imperia falne as Dido fell And good Hieronimo slaine by himselfe I these were spectacles to please my soule Now will I beg at louely Proserpine That by the vertue of her Princely doome I may consort my freends in pleasing sort And on my foes worke iust and sharpe reuenge I le lead my freend Horatio through those feeldes Where neuer dying warres are still inurde I le lead faire Isabella to that traine Where pittie weepes but neuer feeleth paine I le lead my Bel-imperia to those ioyes That vestal Virgins and faire Queenes possesse I le lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plaies Adding sweet pleasure to eternall daies But say Reuenge for thou must helpe or none Against the rest how shall my hate be showne Reuenge This hand shall hale them down to deepest hell Where none but furies bugs and tortures dwell Ghoast Then sweet Reuenge doo this at my request Let me be iudge and doome them to vnrest Let loose poore Titius from the vultures gripe And let Don Ciprian supply his roome Place Don Lorenzo on Ixions wheele And let the louers endles paines surcease Iuno forgets olde wrath and graunts him ease Hang Balthazar about Chineras neck And let him there bewaile his bloudy loue Repining at our ioyes that are aboue Let Serberine goe roule the fatall stone And take from Siciphus his endles mone False Pedringano for his trecherie Let him be dragde through boyling Acheron And there liue dying still in endles flames Blaspheming Gods and all their holy names Reuenge Then haste we downe to meet thy freends and foes To place thy freends in ease the rest in woes For heere though death hath end their miserie I le there begin their endles Tragedie Exeunt FINIS