The Spanish Tragedy

by Thomas Kyd

[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."

BAZULTO. Aye, sir.

HIERO. No, sir, it was my murder'd son!
Oh, my son, my son! oh, my son Horatio!
But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content;
Here, take my handkerchief and wipe thine eyes,
Whiles wretched I in thy mishaps may see
The lively portrait of my dying self.

He draweth out a bloody napkin.

O, no; not this! Horatio, this was thine!
And when I dy'd it in thy dearest blood,
This was a token twixt thy soul and me
That of thy death revenged I should be.
But here: take this, and this! what? my purse?
Aye, this and that and all of them are thine;
For all as one are our extremities.

I CIT. Oh, see the kindness of Hieronimo!

II CIT. This gentleness shows him a gentleman.

HIERO. See, see, oh, see thy shame, Hieronimo!
See here a loving father to his son:
Behold the sorrows and the sad laments
That he deliv'reth for his son's decease.
If love's effect so strives in lesser things,
If love enforce such moods in meaner wits,
If love express such power in poor estates,
Hieronimo, as when a raging sea,
Toss'd with the wind and tide, o'er-turneth then
The upper-billows course of waves to keep,
Whilst lesser waters labour in the deep,
Then sham'st thou not, Hieronimo, to neglect
The swift revenge of thy Horatio?
Though on this earth justice will not be found,
I'll down to hell and in this passion
Knock at the dismal gates of Pluto's court,
Getting by force, as once Alcides did,
A troupe of furies and tormenting hags,
To torture Don Lorenzo and the rest.
Yet, lest the triple-headed porter should
Deny my passage to the slimy strand,
The Thracian poet thou shalt counterfeit;
Come on, old father, be my Orpheus;
And, if thou canst no notes upon the harp,
Then sound the burden of thy sore heart's grief
Till we do gain that Proserpine may grant
Revenge on them that murdered my son.
Then will I rent and tear them thus and thus,
Shiv'ring their limbs in pieces with my teeth!

Tears the papers.

I CIT. Oh, sir, my declaration!

Exit HIERONIMO and they after.

II CIT. Save my bond!

Enter HIERONIMO.

II CIT. Save my bond!

III CIT. Alas my lease, it cost me
Ten pound, and you, my lord, have torn the same!

HIERO. That can not be, I gave it never a wound;
Show me one drop of blood fall from the same!
How is it possible I should slay it then?
Tush, no! Run after, catch me if you can!

Exeunt all but DON BAZULTO.

BAZULTO remains till HIERONIMO enters
again, who, staring him in the face, speaks:

And art thou come, Horatio, from the depth,
To ask for justice in this upper earth?
To tell thy father thou art unreveng'd?
To wring more tears from Isabella's eyes,
Whose lights are dimm'd with over-long laments?
Go back, my son, complain to Eacus;
For here's no justice. Gentle boy, begone;
For justice is exiled from the earth.
Hieronimo will bear thee company.
Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant
For just revenge against the murderers.

BAZULTO. Alas, my lord, whence springs this troubled speech?

HIERO. But let me look on my Horatio:
Sweet boy, how art thou chang'd in death's black shade!
Had Proserpine no pity on thy youth,
But suffer'd thy fair crimson-colour'd spring
With wither'd winter to be blasted thus?
Horatio, thou are older than thy father:
Ah, ruthless father, that favour thus transforms.

BA. Ah, my good lord, I am not your young son.

HIE. What! not my son? thou then a Fury art
Sent from the empty kingdom of black night
To summon me to make appearance
Before grim Minos and just Radamant,
To plague Hieronimo, that is remiss
And seeks not vengeance for Horatio's death.

BA. I am a grieved man, and not a ghost,
That came for justice for my murder'd son.

HIE. Aye, now I know thee, now thou namest thy son;
Thou art the lively image of my grief:
Within thy face my sorrows I may see;
The eyes are dimm'd with tears, thy cheeks are wan,
Thy forehead troubled, and thy mutt'ring lips
Murmur sad words abruptly broken off
By force of windy sighs thy spirit breathes;
And all this sorrow riseth for thy son,
And self-same sorrow feel I for my son.
Come in, old man; thou shalt to Isabell.
Lean on my arm; I thee, thou me, shalt stay;
And thou and I and she will sing a song,
Three parts in one, but all of discords fram'd,—
Talk not of cords!—but let us now be gone,—
For with a cord Horatio was slain.

Exeunt.

[ACT III. SCENE 14.]

[The Spanish court.]

Enter KING OF SPAIN, the DUKE, VICEROY, and
LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, DON PEDRO, and BEL-IMPERIA.

KING. Go, brother, 'tis the Duke of Castile's cause;
Salute the viceroy in our name.

CASTILE. I go.

VICE. Go forth, Don Pedro, for thy nephew's sake,
And greet the Duke of Castile.

PEDRO. It shall be so.

KING. And now to meet these Portuguese;
For, as we now are, so sometimes were these,
Kings and commanders of the western Indies.
Welcome, brave viceroy, to the court of Spain!
And welcome, all his honourable train!
'Tis not unknown to us for why you come,
Or have so kingly cross'd the seas.
Sufficeth it, in this we note the troth
And more than common love you lend to us.
So is it that mine honourable niece,
For it beseems us now that it be known,
Already is betroth'd to Balthazar;
And, by appointment and our condescent,
Tomorrow are they to be married.
To this intent we entertain thyself,
Thy followers, their pleasure, and our peace.
Speak, men of Portingal, shall it be so?
If aye, say so; if not, say so flatly.

VICE. Renowned king, I come not, as thou think'st,
With doubtful followers, unresolved men,
But such as have upon thine articles
Confirm'd thy motion and contented me.
Know, sovereign, I come to solemnize
The marriage of thy beloved niece,
Fair Bel-imperia, with my Balthazar,—
With thee, my son, whom sith I live to see,
Here, take my crown, I give it to her and thee,
And let me live a solitary life,
In ceaseless prayers,
To think how strangely heav'n hath thee preserved.

KING. See, brother, see, how nature strives in him!
Come, worthy viceroy, and accompany
Thy friend, to strive with thine extremities:
A place more private fits this princely mood.

VICE. Or here or where your Highness thinks it good.

Exeunt all but CASTILE and LORENZO.

CAS. Nay, stay, Lorenzo; let me talk with you.
See'st thou this entertainment of these kings?

LOR. I do, my lord, and joy to see the same.

CAS. And know'st thou why this meeting is?

LOR. For her, my lord, whom Balthazar doth love,
And to confirm their promis'd marriage.

CAS. She is thy sister.

LOR. Who? Bel-imperia?
Aye, my gracious lord, and this is the day
That I have long'd so happily to see.

CAS. Thou wouldst be loath that any fault of thine
Should intercept her in her happiness?

LOR. Heav'ns will not let Lorenzo err so much.

CAS. Why then, Lorenzo, listen to my words:
It is suspected, and reported too,
That thou, Lorenzo, wrong'st Hieronimo,
And in his suits toward his Majesty
Still keep'st him back and seek'st to cross his suit.

LOR. That I, my lord?

CAS. I tell thee, son, myself have heard it said,
When to my sorrow I have been asham'd
To answer for thee, though thou art my son.
Lorenzo, know'st thou not the common love
And kindness that Hieronimo hath won
By his deserts within the court of Spain?
Or see'st thou not the king my brother's care
In his behalf and to procure his health?
Lorenzo, should'st thou thwart his passions,
And he exclaim against thee to the king,
What honour were't in this assembly,
Or what a scandal were't among the kings,
To hear Hieronimo exclaim on thee!
Tell me,—and look thou tell me truly too,—
Whence grows the ground of this report in court?

LOR. My lord, it lies not in Lorenzo's power
To stop the vulgar, liberal of their tongues:
A small advantage makes a water-breach;
And no man lives that long contenteth all.

CAS. Myself have seen thee busy to keep back
Him and his supplications from the king.

LOR. Yourself, my lord, hath seen his passions,
That ill beseem'd the presence of a king;
And, for I pitied him in his distress,
I held him thence with kind and courteous words,
As free from malice to Hieronimo
As to my soul, my lord.

CAS. Hieronimo, my son, mistakes thee then.

LOR. My gracious father, believe me, so he doth;
But what's a silly man, distract in mind,
To think upon the murder of his son?
Alas, how easy is it for him to err!
But, for his satisfaction and the world's,
'Twere good, my lord, that Hieronimo and I
Were reconcil'd, if he misconstrue me.

CAS. Lorenzo, that hast said; it shall be so!
Go, one of you, and call Hieronimo.

Enter BALTHAZAR and BEL-IMPERIA.

BAL. Come, Bel-imperia, Balthazar's content,
My sorrow's ease, and sovereign of my bliss,—
Sith heav'n hath ordain'd thee to be mine,
Disperse those clouds and melancholy looks,
And clear them up with those thy sun-bright eyes,
Wherein my hope and heav'n's fair beauty lies!

BEL. My looks, my lord, are fitting for my love,
Which, new begun, can show no brighter yet.

BAL. New kindled flames should burn as morning sun.

BEL. But not too fast, least heat and all be done.
I see my lord my father.

BAL. True, my love;
I will go salute him.

CAS. Welcome, Balthazar,
Welcome, brave prince, the pledge of Castile's peace!
And welcome Bel-imperia! How now, girl?
Why com'st thou sadly to salute us thus?
Content thyself, for I am satisfied.
It is not now as when Andrea liv'd;
We have forgotten and forgiven that,
And thou art graced with a happier love.
But, Balthazar, here comes Hieronimo;
I'll have a word with him.

Enter HIERONIMO and a SERVANT.

HIERO. And where's the duke?

SER. Yonder.

HIERO. Even so.
[aside] What new device have they devised, trow?
Pocas palabras! Mild as the lamb!
Is't I will be reveng'd? No, I am not the man.

CAS. Welcome, Hieronimo!

LOR. Welcome, Hieronimo!

BAL. Welcome, Hieronimo!

HIERO. My lords, I thank you for Horatio.

CAS. Hieronimo, the reason that I sent
To speak with you is this—

HIERO. What? so short?
Then I'll be gone; I thank you for't!

CAS. Nay, stay, Hieronimo; go call him, son.

LOR. Hieronimo, my father craves a word with you.

HIERO. With me, sir? Why, my lord, I thought you had done.

LOR. [aside] No; would he had!

CAS. Hieronimo, I hear
You find yourself aggrieved at my son,
Because you have not access unto the king,
And say 'tis he that intercepts your suits.

HIERO. Why, is not this a miserable thing, my lord?

CAS. Hieronimo, I hope you have no cause,
And would be loath that one of your deserts
Should once have reason to suspect my son,
Considering how I think of you myself.

HIERO. Your son Lorenzo? whom, my noble lord?
The hope of Spain? mine honourable friend?
Grant me the combat of them, if they dare!

Draws out his sword.

I'll meet them face-to-face to tell me so!
These be the scandalous reports of such
As love not me, and hate my lord too much.
Should I suspect Lorenzo would prevent
Or cross my suit, that lov'd my son so well?
My lord, I am asham'd it should be said.

LOR. Hieronimo, I never gave you cause.

HIERO. My good lord, I know you did not.

CAS. There then pause,
And, for the satisfaction of the world,
Hieronimo, frequent my homely house,
The Duke of Castile Ciprian's ancient seat;
And when thou wilt, use me, my son, and it.
But here before Prince Balthazar and me
Embrace each other, and be perfect friends.

HIERO. Aye, marry, my lord, and shall!
Friends, quoth he? See, I'll be friends with you all!
Especially with you, my lovely lord;
For divers causes it is fit for us
That we be friends. The world is suspicious,
And men may think what we imagine not.

BAL. Why this is freely done, Hieronimo.

LOR. And I hope old grudges are forgot.

HIERO. What else? it were a shame it should not
be so!

CAS. Come on, Hieronimo, at my request;
Let us entreat your company today!

Exeunt.

[CHORUS.]

Enter GHOST and REVENGE.

GHOST. Awake Erictho! Cerberus, awake!
Solicit Pluto, gentle Proserpine!
To combat, Acheron and Erebus in hell!
For ne'er by Styx and Phlegeton there came,
Nor ferried Charon to the fiery lakes,
Such fearful sights, as poor Andrea sees!
Revenge awake!

REVENGE. Awake? For why?

GHOST. Awake, Revenge! for thou art ill advis'd
To sleep away what thou art warn'd to watch!

REVENGE. Content thyself, and do not trouble me.

GHOST. Awake, Revenge, if love, as love hath had,
Have yet the power of prevalence in hell!
Hieronimo with Lorenzo is join'd in league,
And intercepts our passage to revenge.
Awake, Revenge, or we are woe-begone!

REVENGE. Thus worldings ground what they have dream'd upon!
Content thyself, Andrea; though I sleep,
Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.
Sufficeth thee that poor Hieronimo
Cannot forget his son Horatio.
Nor dies Revenge although he sleep awhile;
For in unquiet, quietness is feign'd,
And slumb'ring is a common worldly wile.
Behold, Andrea, for an instance how
Revenge hath slept; and then imagine thou
What 'tis to be subject to destiny.

Enter a Dumb-show.

GHOST. Awake, Revenge! reveal this mystery!

REVENGE. The two first do the nuptial torches bear,
As brightly burning as the midday's sun;
But after them doth Hymen hie as fast,
Clothed in sable and a saffron robe,
And blows them out and quencheth them with blood,
As discontent that things continue so.

GHOST. Sufficeth me; thy meanings understood,
And thanks to thee and those infernal powers
That will not tolerate a lover's woe.
Rest thee; for I will sit to see the rest.

REVENGE. Then argue not; for thou hast thy request.

Exeunt.