  Enter the Viceroy of Portingal, Nobles, Alexandro, Villuppo. Viceroy. Infortunate condition of kings, Seated amidst First, we are plac'd upon extremest height, And oft supplanted with exceeding hate; But ever subject to the wheel of chance; And at our highest never joy we so, As we both doubt and dread our overthrow. So striveth not the waves with sundry winds, As fortune toileth in th' affairs of kings, That would be fear'd, yet fear to be belov'd, For instance, lordings, look upon your king, By hate deprived of his dearest son; The only hope of our successive line. Nobles. I had not thought, that Alexandro's heart Had been envenom'd with such extreme hate; But now I see, that words have several works, And there's no credit in the countenance. Villuppo. No; for, my lord, had you beheld the train, That feigned love, and colour'd in his looks, When he in camp comforted Balthazar, Far more inconstant had you thought the sun, That hourly coasts the centre of the earth, Than Alexandro's purpose to the prince. Viceroy. No more, Villuppo: thou hast said enough, And with thy words thou slay'st our wounded thoughts; Nor shall I longer dally with the world, Procrastinating Alexandro's death: Go, some of you, and fetch the traitor forth, That, as he is condemned, he may die. Enter Alexandro, with a Nobleman and halberts. Nobleman. In such extremes will nought but patience serve. Alexandro. But in extremes what patience shall I use? Nor discontents it me to leave the world, With whom there nothing can prevail but wrong. Nobleman. Yet hope the best. Alexandro. 'Tis heaven is my hope; As for the earth, it is too much infect, To yield me hope of any of her mould. Viceroy. Why linger ye? bring forth that daring fiend, And let him die for his accursed deed. Alexandro. Not that I fear th' extremity of death (For nobles cannot stoop to servile fear), Do I, O king, thus discontented live. But this, O this, torments my labouring soul, That thus I die suspected of a sin, Whereof, as heav'ns have known my secret thoughts, So am I free from this suggestion. Viceroy. No more, I say; [but] to the tortures with him! Bind him, and burn his body in those flames, [They bind him to the stake. That shall prefigure those unquenched fires Of Phlegethon, prepared for his soul. Alexandro. My guiltless death will be aveng'd on thee, On thee, Villuppo, that hath malic'd thus; Or for Villuppo. Nay, Alexandro, if thou menace me, I'll lend a hand to send thee to the lake, Where those thy words shall perish with thy works: Injurious traitor! monstrous homicide! Enter Ambassador. Ambassador. Stay, hold a while; and here (with pardon of His majesty) lay hands upon Villuppo. Viceroy. Ambassador, what news hath urg'd this sudden entrance? Ambassador. Know, sovereign lord, Viceroy. What say'st thou? liveth Balthazar our son? Ambassador. Your highness' son lord Balthazar doth live, And well entreated in the court of Spain, Humbly commends him to your majesty: These eyes beheld, and these my followers', With these the letters of the king's commends, [Gives him letters. Are happy witness of his highness' health. [The King looks on the letters, and proceeds. Viceroy. Thy son doth live, your tribute is receiv'd: The rest resolve upon as things propos'd For both our honours and thy benefit. Ambassador. These are his highness' farther articles. [Gives him more letters. Viceroy. Accursed wretch, to intimate these ills Against the life and reputation Of noble Alexandro! Come, my lord, unbind him: Let him unbind thee, that is bound to death, To make a quital for thy discontent. [They unbind him. Alexandro. Dread lord, in kindness you could do no less, Upon report of such a damned fact; But thus we see our innocence hath sav'd The hopeless life, which thou, Villuppo, sought By thy suggestions to have massacred. Viceroy. Say, false Villuppo, wherefore didst thou thus Falsely betray lord Alexandro's life? Him, whom thou know'st that no unkindness else, But ev'n the slaughter of our dearest son, Could once have mov'd Alexandro. Say, treacherous Villuppo, tell the king: Wherein Villuppo. Rent with remembrance of so foul a deed, My guilty soul For not for Alexandro's injuries, But for reward and hope to be preferr'd, Thus have I shamelessly hazarded his life. Viceroy. Which, villain, shall be ransom'd with thy death; And not so mean a torment as we here Devis'd for him who, thou said'st, slew our son: But with the bitter'st torments and extremes, That may be yet invented for thine end. [Alex. seems to entreat. Entreat me not; go take the traitor hence: [Exit Villuppo. And, Alexandro, let us honour thee With public notice of thy loyalty. To end those things articulated here By our great lord, the mighty King of Spain, We with our council will deliberate: Come, Alexandro, keep us company. [Exeunt. Enter Hieronimo. HIERONIMO. O eyes! no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears: O life! no life, but lively form of death: O world! no world, but mass of public wrongs, Confus'd and fill'd with murder and misdeeds: O sacred heav'ns! if this unhallow'd deed, If this inhumane and barbarous attempt; If this incomparable murder thus Of mine, but now no more my son, Shall unreveal'd and unrevenged pass, How should we term your dealings to be just, If you unjustly deal with those that in your justice trust? The night, sad secretary to my moans, With direful visions wake[s] my vexed soul, And with the wounds of my distressful son, Solicit[s] me for notice of his death. The ugly fiends do sally forth of hell, And frame my steps to unfrequented paths, The cloudy day my discontents Early begins to register my dreams, And drive[s] me forth to seek the murderer. Eyes, life, world, heav'ns, hell, night, and day, See, search, show, send some man, Some mean, that may— [A letter falleth. What's here? a letter? tush! it is not so: A letter written to Hieronimo. [Red ink. For want of ink, receive this bloody writ; Me hath my hapless brother hid from thee: Revenge thyself on Balthazar and him; For these were they that murdered thy son. Hieronimo, revenge Horatio's death, And better far than Bell'-Imperia doth. What means this unexpected miracle? My son slain by Lorenzo and the prince! What cause had they Horatio to malign? Or what might move thee, Bell'-Imperia, To accuse thy brother, had he been the mean? Hieronimo, beware, thou art betray'd, And to entrap thy life this train is laid: This is devised to endanger thee, That thou by this Lorenzo shouldst accuse; And he, for thy dishonour done, should draw Thy life in question and thy name in hate. Dear was the life of my beloved son, And of his death behoves me be reveng'd: Then hazard not thine own, Hieronimo; But live t' effect thy resolution. I therefore will by circumstances try, What I can gather to confirm this writ; And, heark'ning Close, if I can, with Bell'-Imperia, To listen more, but nothing to bewray. Enter Pedringano. Hieronimo. Pedringano. Now, Hieronimo! Hieronimo. Where's thy lady? Pedringano. I know not: here's my lord. Enter Lorenzo. Lorenzo. How now, who's this? Hieronimo? Hieronimo. My lord. Pedringano. He asketh for my lady Bell'-Imperia. Lorenzo. What to do, Hieronimo? the duke my father hath, Upon some disgrace, awhile remov'd her hence; But if it be aught I may inform her of, Tell me, Hieronimo, and I'll let her know it. Hieronimo. Nay, nay, my lord, I thank you; it shall not need. I had a suit unto her, but too late, And her disgrace makes me unfortunate. Lorenzo. Why so, Hieronimo? use me. Hieronimo. O no, my lord; I dare not, it must not be: I humbly thank your lordship. Lorenzo. Why then, farewell. Hieronimo. My grief no heart, my thoughts no tongue, can tell. [Exit. Lorenzo. Come hither, Pedringano; see'st thou this? Pedringano. My lord, I see it, and suspect it too. Lorenzo. This is that damned villain Serberine, That hath, I fear, reveal'd Horatio's death. Pedringano. My lord, he could not, 'twas so lately done; And since he hath not left my company. Lorenzo. Admit he have not, his condition's such, As fear or flattering words may make him false. I know his humour; and therewith repent, That e'er I us'd him in this enterprise. And 'cause I know thee secret as my soul, Here, for thy further satisfaction, take thou [Gives him more gold. And hearken to me—thus it is devis'd, This night thou must (and, pr'ythee, so resolve) Meet Serberine at St Liugis' Park: Thou know'st, 'tis here hard by behind the house; There take thy stand, and see thou strike him sure: For die he must, if we do mean to live. Pedringano. But how shall Serberine be there, my lord? Lorenzo. Let me alone; I'll send to him to meet The prince and me, where thou must do this deed. Pedringano. It shall be done, my lord, it shall be done; And I'll go arm myself to meet him there. Lorenzo. When things shall alter, as I hope they will, Then shalt thou mount for this; thou know'st my mind. Che le Jeron! Enter Page. Page. My lord? Lorenzo. Go, sirrah, to Serberine, and bid him forthwith Meet the prince and me at St Liugis' Park, Behind the house: this evening, boy. Page. I go, my lord. Lorenzo. But, sirrah, let the hour be eight o'clock: Bid him not fail. Page. I fly, my lord. [Exit. Lorenzo. Now to confirm the complot thou hast cast Of all these practices, I'll spread the watch, Upon precise commandment from the king, Strongly to guard the place, where Pedringano This night shall murder hapless Serberine. Thus must we work, that will avoid distrust: Thus must we practise to prevent mishap: And thus one ill another must expulse. This sly inquiry of Hieronimo For Bell'-Imperia breeds suspicion, And this suspicion bodes a further ill. As for myself, I know my secret fault, And so do they; but I have dealt for them. They that for coin their souls endangered, And better 'tis that base companions die, Than by their life to hazard our good haps; Nor shall they live, for me to fear their faith: I'll trust myself, myself shall be my friend; For die they shall, slaves are ordain'd to Enter Pedringano, with a pistol. Pedringano. Now, Pedringano, bid thy pistol hold; And hold on, fortune, once more favour me, Give but success to mine attempting spirit, And let me shift for taking of mine aim! Here is the gold, this is the gold propos'd, It is no dream that I adventure for, But Pedringano is possess'd thereof; And he that would not strain his conscience For him, that thus his liberal purse hath stretch'd, Unworthy such a favour may he fail; And wishing want, when such as I prevail: As for the fear of apprehension, I know, if need should be, my noble lord Will stand between me and ensuing harms: Besides, this place is free from all suspect. Here therefore will I stay and take my stand. Enter the Watch. 1 Watch. I wonder much to what intent it is, That we are thus expressly charg'd to watch. 2 Watch. 'Tis by commandment in the king's own name. 3 Watch. 2 Watch. Content yourself, stand close, there's somewhat in't. Enter Serberine. Serberine. Here, Serberine, attend and stay thy pace; For here did Don Lorenzo's page appoint, That thou by his command shouldst meet with him: How fit a place, if one were so dispos'd, Methinks this corner is to close with one. Pedringano. Here comes the bird that I must seize upon: Now, Pedringano, or never, play the man. Serberine. I wonder that his lordship stays so long, Or wherefore should he send for me so late? Pedringano. For this, Serberine, and thou shalt ha't. [Shoots the dag. So, there he lies; my promise is perform'd. 1 Watch. Hark, gentlemen, this is a pistol shot. 2 Watch. And here's one slain; stay the murderer. Pedringano. Now by the sorrows of the souls in hell, [He strives with the Watch. Who first lays hands on me, I'll be his priest. 3 Watch. Sirrah, confess, and therein play the priest, Why hast thou thus unkindly kill'd the man? Pedringano. Why? because he walk'd abroad so late. 3 Watch. Come, sir, you had been better kept your bed, Than have committed this misdeed so late. 2 Watch. Come to the marshal's 1 Watch. On to Hieronimo's: To bring the murder'd body with us too. Pedringano. Hieronimo? carry me before whom you will, Whate'er he be, I'll answer him and you; And do your worst, for I defy you all. [Exeunt. Enter Lorenzo and Balthazar. Balthazar. How now, my lord, what makes you rise so soon? Lorenzo. Fear of preventing our mishaps too late. Balthazar. What mischief is it that we not mistrust? Lorenzo. Our greatest ills we least mistrust, my lord, Balthazar. Why, tell me, Don Lorenzo—tell me, man— If aught concerns our honour and your own? Lorenzo. Nor For I suspect, and the presumption's great, That by those base confederates in our fault, Touching the death of Don Horatio, We are betray'd to old Hieronimo. Balthazar. Betray'd, Lorenzo? tush! it cannot be. Lorenzo. A guilty conscience, urged with the thought Of former evils, easily cannot err: I am persuaded, and dissuade me not, That all's revealed to Hieronimo, And therefore know that I have cast it thus. Enter Page. But here's the page. How now? what news with thee? Page. My lord, Serberine is slain. Balthazar. Who? Serberine my man? Page. Your highness' man, my lord. Lorenzo. Speak, page, who murder'd him? Page. He that is apprehended for the fact. Lorenzo. Who? Page. Pedringano. Balthazar. Is Injurious villain, murderer of his friend! Lorenzo. Hath Pedringano murder'd Serberine? My lord, let me entreat you to take the pains To exasperate and hasten his revenge With your complaints unto my lord the king: This their dissension breeds a greater doubt. Balthazar. Assure thee, Don Lorenzo, he shall die, Or else his highness hardly shall deny. Meanwhile I'll haste the marshal-sessions: For die he shall for this his damned deed. [Exit Balthazar. Lorenzo. Why so, this fits our former policy, And thus experience bids the wise to deal. I lay the plot: he prosecutes the point; I set the trap: he breaks the worthless twigs, And sees not that wherewith the bird was lim'd. Thus hopeful men, that mean to hold their own, Must look like fowlers to their dearest friends; He runs to kill, whom I have holp And no man knows it was my reaching fetch. 'Tis hard to trust unto a multitude, Or any one, in mine opinion, When men themselves their secrets will reveal. Enter a Messenger, with a letter. Boy—— Page. My lord? Lorenzo. What's he? Messenger. I have a letter to your lordship. Lorenzo. From whence? Messenger. From Pedringano, that's imprison'd. Lorenzo. So he is in prison Messenger. Ay, my good lord. Lorenzo. What would he with us? He writes us here, To stand, good lord, and help him in distress. Tell him, I have his letters, know his mind; Fellow, begone; my boy shall follow thee. [Exit Messenger. This works like wax; yet once more try thy wits. Boy, go, convey this purse to Pedringano; Thou know'st the prison, closely give it him, And be advis'd that none be there about: Bid him be merry still, but secret; And though the marshal Bid him not doubt of his delivery; Tell him, his pardon is already sign'd: And thereon bid him boldly be resolv'd; For were he ready to be turned off (As 'tis my will the uttermost be try'd), Thou with his pardon shalt attend him still: Show him this box, tell him his pardon's in't; But open't not, and if thou lov'st thy life: But let him wisely keep his hopes unknown, He shall not want, while Don Lorenzo lives. Away! Page. I go, my lord, I run. Lorenzo. But, sirrah, see that this be cleanly done. Now stands our fortune on a tickle point, And now or never ends Lorenzo's doubts; One only thing is uneffected yet, And that's to see the executioner; But to what end? I With utterance of our pretence therein; For fear the privy whispering of the wind Convey our words amongst unfriendly ears, That lie too open to advantages. E quel che voglio io, nessun le sa, Intendo io quel mi bastara. [Exit. Enter Boy, with the box. Boy. My master hath forbidden me to look in this box; and, by my troth, Enter Hieronimo and the Deputy. Hieronimo. Thus must we toil in other men's extremes, That know not how to remedy our own; And do them justice, when unjustly we, For all our wrongs, can compass no redress. But shall I never live to see the day, That I may come, by justice of the heav'ns, To know the cause that may my cares allay? This toils my body, this consumeth age, That only I to all men just must be, And neither gods nor men be just to me. Deputy. Worthy Hieronimo, your office asks A care to punish such as do transgress. Hieronimo. So is't my duty to regard his death Who, when he liv'd, deserv'd my dearest blood. But come, for that we came for: let's begin, For here lies that, which bids me to be gone. Enter Officers, Boy, and Pedringano, with a letter in his hand, bound. Deputy. Bring forth the prisoner, for the court is set. Pedringano. Gramercy, boy, but it was time to come; For I had written to my lord anew A nearer matter that concerneth him, For fear his lordship had forgotten me: But sith he hath remember'd me so well— Come, come, come on, when shall we to this gear? Hieronimo. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men, And here, for satisfaction of the world, Confess thy folly, and repent thy fault; For there's thy Pedringano. This is short work: well, to your marshalship First I confess, nor fear I death therefore, I am the man, 'twas I slew Serberine. But, sir, then you think this shall be the place, Where we shall satisfy you for this gear? Deputy. Ay, Pedringano. Pedringano. Now Hieronimo. Peace, impudent; for thou shalt find it so: For blood with blood shall (while I sit as judge) Be satisfied, and the law discharg'd. And though myself cannot receive the like, Yet will I see that others have their right. Despatch, the fault's approved and confess'd; And by our law he is condemn'd to die. Hangman. Come on, sir; are you ready? Pedringano. To do what, my fine officious knave? Hangman. To go to this gear. Pedringano. O sir, you are too forward; thou wouldst fain Furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish Me of my habit. So I should go out Of this gear, my raiment, into that gear, the rope: But, hangman, now I spy your knavery; I'll not change without boot, that's flat. Hangman. Come, sir. Pedringano. So, then, I must up? Hangman. No remedy. Pedringano. Yes, but there shall be for my Hangman. Indeed here is a remedy for that. Pedringano. How? be turn'd off? Hangman. Ay, truly; come, are you ready? I pray you, sir, despatch; the day goes away. Pedringano. What, do you hang by the hour? If you do, I may chance to break your old custom. Hangman. 'Faith, you have Break your young neck. Pedringano. Dost thou mock me, Hangman? Pray God, I be not preserv'd to Break your knave's pate for this! Hangman. Alas! Sir, you are a foot too low to reach it: And, I hope, you will never grow so high, While I am in the office. Pedringano. Sirrah, Dost see yonder boy with the box in his hand? What, he that points to it with his finger? Pedringano. Ay, that companion. Hangman. I know him not; but what of him? Pedringano. Dost thou think to live, till his old doublet will make thee a new truss? Hangman. Ay, and many a fair year after, to truss up many an honester man than either thou or he. Pedringano. What hath he in his box, as thou thinkest? Hangman. 'Faith, I cannot tell, nor I care not greatly; Methinks, you should rather hearken to your soul's health. Pedringano. 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. Hangman. Well, thou art even the merriest piece of man's flesh, that ever groan'd at my office door. Pedringano. Is your roguery become an office, with a knave's name? Hangman. Ay, and that shall all they witness, that see you seal it with a thief's name. Pedringano. I pr'ythee, request this good company to pray with Hangman. Ay, marry, sir, this is a good motion. My masters, you see, here's a good fellow. Pedringano. Nay, nay, now I remember me, let them alone till some other time; for now I have no great need. Hieronimo. I have not seen a wretch so impudent. O monstrous times! where murder's set 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! A fault so foul should 'scape unpunished. Despatch, and see this This makes me to remember thee my son. [Exit Hier. Pedringano. Nay, soft, no haste. Deputy. Why, wherefore stay you? Have you hope of life? Pedringano. Why, ay! Hangman. As how? Pedringano. Why, rascal, by my pardon from the king. Hangman. Stand you on that? then you shall off with this. [He turns him off. Deputy. So, executioner; convey him hence: But let his body be unburied; Let not the earth be choked or infect With that which heaven contemns, and men neglect. [Exeunt. Enter Hieronimo. Hieronimo. Where shall I run to breathe 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 the leafless trees, Disrob'd the meadows of their flower'd green, Made mountains march with spring-tides 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 Soliciting for justice and revenge: But they are plac'd in those imperial 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. Hangman. O lord, sir: God bless you, sir! the man, sir, Petergad, sir, he that was so full of merry conceits—— Hieronimo. Well, what of him? Hangman. 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. Hieronimo. I warrant thee, give it me. Hangman. You will stand between the gallows and me? Hieronimo. Ay, ay. Hangman. I thank your lord worship. [Exit Hangman. Hieronimo. 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. My lord, I write 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 confederate 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 the 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 heavens! may it come to pass That such a monstrous and detested deed, So closely smother'd and so long conceal'd, Shall thus by this be venged Now see I what I durst not then suspect, That Bell'-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 heaven unpunish'd would 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, Was this the ransom he reserv'd thee for? 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 ban'd with bitter execrations be The day and place, where he did pity thee! But wherefore waste I mine unfruitful words, When nought 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. FOOTNOTES:"Unfortunate condition of great kings." The terminations tion and sion in our old poets were almost invariably pronounced as two distinct syllables.—Collier. "But up, Ragan! up, drowsy hogshead, I say: Why, when? will it not be? Up, I come anon. Up, or I shall raise you, in faith, ye drowsy whoreson! Why, when?"] "(He shall not go) I but fear the knave." And in "Sejanus his Fall," iv.:— "His subtility hath chose this doubling line, To hold him even in; not so to fear him, As wholly put him out." Again, in "A Fair Quarrel," ii. 1: "But as it is, it fears me." So in "Euphues and his England," 1580: "Nor the perswasions of Papists ... could either fear hir or allure hir." Parkes, in his "Curtain-Drawer of the World," 1612, p. 41, has, "If he shall feare us out of our wits with strange words." Lorenzo. Why so, Hieronimo? use me. Hieronimo. Who? you, my lord? I reserve your favour for a greater honour: This is a very toy, my lord, a toy. Lorenzo. All's one, Hieronimo, acquaint me with it. Hieronimo. I' faith, my lord, 'tis an idle thing, I must confess, I ha' been too slack, too tardy, too remiss, unto your honour. Lorenzo. How now, Hieronimo? Hieronimo. In troth, my lord, it is a thing of nothing; The murder of a son, or so— A thing of nothing, my lord! Lorenzo. Why then, farewell. "Or dare abide the noise the dagge will make." Again, ibid.— "I'll leave you at your dag's discharge." And— "My dagge was levelled at his hart." So also in "Jack Drum's Entertainment," 1601, v.— "Whilst he would show me how to hold the dagge." Again, Ascham (Works, by Bennet, p. 21): "Ridving on his journey, he was once shot with a dagge secretly." "She's limed, I warrant you, we have caught her, madam." And in "Arden of Feversham"— "Once more Lime well your twigs to catch this wary bird." |
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