[ACT IV. SCENE 1.]
[The DUKE's castle.]
Enter BEL-IMPERIA and HIERONIMO.
BEL-IMPERIA. Is this the love thou bear'st Horatio?
Is this the kindness that thou counterfeit'st,
Are these the fruits of thine incessant tears?
Hieronimo, are these thy passions,
Thy protestations and thy deep laments,
That thou wert wont to weary men withal?
O unkind father! O deceitful world!
With what excuses canst thou show thyself,—
With what dishonour, and the hate of men,—
Thus to neglect the loss and life of him
Whom both my letters and thine own belief
Assures thee to be causeless slaughtered?
Hieronimo! for shame, Hieronimo,
Be not a history to after times
Of such ingratitude unto thy son!
Unhappy mothers of such children then!
But monstrous fathers, to forget so soon
The death of those whom they with care and cost
Have tender'd so, thus careless should be lost!
Myself, a stranger in respect to thee,
So lov'd his life as still I wish their deaths.
Nor shall his death be unreveng'd by me.
Although I bear it out for fashion's sake;
For here I swear in sight of heav'n and earth,
Shouldst thou neglect the love thou shouldst retain
And give it over and devise no more,
Myself should send their hateful souls to hell
That wrought his downfall with extremest death!
HIE. But may it be that Bel-imperia
Vows such revenge as she hath deign'd to say?
Why then, I see that heav'n applies our drift,
And all the saints do sit soliciting
For vengeance on those cursed murtherers.
Madame, 'tis true, and now I find it so.
I found a letter, written in your name,
And in that letter, how Horatio died.
Pardon, O pardon, Bel-imperia,
My fear and care in not believing it!
Nor think I thoughtless think upon a mean
To let his death be unreveng'd at full.
And here I vow, so you but give consent
And will conceal my resolution,
I will ere long determine of their deaths
That causeless thus have murdered my son.
BEL. Hieronimo, I will consent, conceal,
And aught that may effect for thine avail,
Join with thee to revenge Horatio's death.
HIER. On then, and whatsoever I devise,
Let me entreat you grace my practice,
For-why the plot's already in mine head.—
Here they are!
Enter BALTHAZAR and LORENZO.
BAL. How now, Hieronimo?
What, courting Bel-imperia?
HIERO. Aye, my lord,
Such courting as, I promise you,
She hath my heart, but you, my lord, have hers.
LOR. But now, Hieronimo, or never
We are to entreat your help.
HIE. My help?
Why, my good lords, assure yourselves of me;
For you have giv'n me cause,—
Aye, by my faith, have you!
BAL. It pleased you
At the entertainment of the ambassador,
To grace the King so much as with a show;
Now were your study so well furnished
As, for the passing of the first night's sport,
To entertain my father with the like,
Or any such like pleasing motion,
Assure yourself it would content them well.
HIERO. Is this all?
BAL. Aye, this is all.
HIERO. Why then I'll fit you; say no more.
When I was young I gave my mind
And plied myself to fruitless poetry,
Which, though it profit the professor naught,
Yet is it passing pleasing to the world.
LOR. And how for that?
HIERO. Marry, my good lord, thus.—
And yet, me thinks, you are too quick with us!—
When in Toledo there I studied,
It was my chance to write a tragedy,—
See here, my lords,—
He shows them a book.
Which, long forgot, I found this other day.
Nor would your lordships favour me so much
As but to grace me with your acting it,
I mean each one of you to play a part.
Assure you it will prove most passing strange
And wondrous plausible to that assembly.
BAL. What, would you have us play a tragedy?
HIERO. Why, Nero thought it no disparagement,
And kings and emperors have ta'en delight
To make experience of their wit in plays!
LOR. Nay, be not angry, good Hieronimo;
The prince but ask'd a question.
BAL. In faith, Hieronimo, and you be in earnest,
I'll make one.
LOR. And I another.
HIERO. Now, my good lord, could you entreat,
Your sister, Bel-imperia, to make one,—
For what's a play without a woman in it?
BEL. Little entreaty shall serve me, Hieronimo,
For I must needs be employed in your play.
HIERO. Why, this is well! I tell you, lordings,
It was determined to have been acted,
By gentlemen and scholars too,
Such as could tell what to speak.
BAL. And now
It shall be play'd by princes and courtiers,
Such as can tell how to speak,
If, as it is our country manner,
You will but let us know the argument.
HIERO. That shall I roundly. The chronicles of Spain
Record this written of a knight of Rhodes;
He was betroth'd, and wedded at the length,
To one Perseda, an Italian dame,
Whose beauty ravish'd all that her beheld,
Especially the soul of Suleiman,
Who at the marriage was the chiefest guest.
By sundry means sought Suleiman to win
Perseda's love, and could not gain the same.
Then 'gan he break his passions to a friend,
One of his bashaws whom he held full dear.
Her has this bashaw long solicited,
And saw she was not otherwise to be won
But by her husband's death, this knight of Rhodes,
Whom presently by treachery he slew.
She, stirr'd with an exceeding hate therefore,
As cause of this, slew Sultan Suleiman,
And, to escape the bashaw's tyranny,
Did stab herself. And this is the tragedy.
LOR. O, excellent!
BEL. But say, Hieronimo:
What then became of him that was the bashaw?
HIERO.
Marry thus:
Moved with remorse of his misdeeds,
Ran to a mountain top and hung himself.
BAL. But which of us is to perform that part?
HIERO. O, that will I, my lords; make no doubt of it;
I'll play the murderer, I warrant you;
For I already have conceited that.
BAL. And what shall I?
HIERO. Great Suleiman, the Turkish emperor.
LOR. And I?
HIERO. Erastus, the knight of Rhodes.
BEL. And I?
HIERO. Perseda, chaste and resolute.
And here, my lords, are several abstracts drawn,
For each of you to note your several parts.
And act it as occasion's offer'd you.
You must provide you with a Turkish cap,
A black moustache and a fauchion.
Gives paper to BALTHAZAR.
You with a cross, like a knight of Rhodes.
Gives another to LORENZO.
And, madame, you must then attire yourself
He giveth BEL-IMPERIA another.
Like Phoebe, Flora, or the huntress Dian,
Which to your discretion shall seem best.
And as for me, my lords, I'll look to one,
And with the ransom that the viceroy sent
So furnish and perform this tragedy
As all the world shall say Hieronimo
Was liberal in gracing of it so.
BAL. Hieronimo, methinks a comedy were better.
HIERO. A comedy? fie! comedies are fit for common wits;
But to present a kingly troupe withal,
Give me a stately-written tragedy,—
Tragedia cothurnata, fitting kings,
Containing matter, and not common things!
My lords, all this our sport must be perform'd,
As fitting for the first night's revelling.
The Italian tragedians were so sharp
Of wit that in one hour's meditation
They would perform any-thing in action.
LOR. And well it may, for I have seen the like
In Paris, 'mongst the French tragedians.
HIERO. In Paris? mass, and well remembered!—
There's one thing more that rests for us to do.
BAL. What's that, Hieronimo?
Forget not anything.
HIERO. Each one of us
Must act his part in unknown languages,
That it may breed the more variety:
As you, my lord, in Latin, I in Greek,
You in Italian, and, for-because I know
That Bel-imperia hath practised the French,
In courtly French shall all her phrases be.
BEL. You mean to try my cunning then, Hieronimo!
BAL. But this will be a mere confusion,
And hardly shall we all be understood.
HEIRO. It must be so; for the conclusion
Shall prove the invention and all was good;
And I myself in an oration,
That I will have there behind a curtain,
And with a strange and wondrous show besides,
Assure yourself, shall make the matter known.
And all shall be concluded in one scene,
For there's no pleasure ta'en in tediousness.
BAL. [to LOR.] How like you this?
LOR. Why thus, my lord, we must resolve,
To soothe his humors up.
BAL. On then, Hieronimo; farewell till soon!
HIERO. You'll ply this gear?
LOR. I warrant you.
Exeuent all but HIERONIMO.
HIERO. Why, so! now shall I see the fall of Babylon
Wrought by the heav'ns in this confusion.
And, if the world like not this tragedy,
Hard is the hap of old Hieronimo.
Exit.