[Portugal: the VICEROY'S palace.]
Enter VICEROY, ALEXANDRO, VILLUPPO.
VICE. Is our embassadour dispatcht for Spaine?
ALEX. Two daies, my liege, are past since his depart.
VICE. And tribute paiment gone along with him?
ALEX. I, my good lord.
VICE. Then rest we heere a-while in our vnrest;
And feede our sorrowes with inward sighes,
For deepest cares break neuer into teares.
But wherefore sit I in a regall throne?
This better fits a wretches endles moane.
Yet this is higher then my fortunes reach,
And therefore better then my state deserues.
Falles to the grounde.
I, I, this earth, image of melancholly,
Seeks him whome fates [adiudge] to miserie!
Heere let me lye! Now am I at the lowest!
Qui iacet in terra non habet vnde cadat.
In me concumpsit vires fortuna nocendo,
Nil superest vt iam possit obesse magis.
Yes, Fortune may bereaue me of my crowne—
Heere, take it now; let Fortune doe her worst,
She shall now rob me of this sable weed.
O, no, she enuies none but pleasent things.
Such is the folly of despightfull chance,
Fortune is blinde and sees not my deserts,
So is she deafe and heares not my laments;
And, coulde she heare, yet is she willfull mad,
And therefore will not pittie my distresse.
Suppose that she coulde pittie me, what then?
What helpe can be expected at her hands
Whose foote is standing on a rowling stone
And minde more mutable then fickle windes?
Why waile I, then, wheres hope of no redresse?
O, yes, complaining makes my greefe seeme lesse.
My late ambition hath distaind my faith,
My breach of faith occaisioned bloudie warres,
Those bloudie warres haue spent my treasure,
And with my treasure my peoples blood,
And with the blood my ioy and best beloued,—
My best beloued, my sweet and onely sonne!
O, wherefore went I not to warre my-selfe?
The cause was mine; I might haue died for both.
My yeeres were mellow, but his young and greene:
My death were naturall, but his was forced.
ALEX. No doubt, my liege, but still the prince suruiues.
VICE. Suruiues! I, where?
ALEX. In Spaine, a prisoner by michance of warre.
VICE. Then they haue slaine him for his fathers fault.
ALEX. That were a breach to common lawe of armes.
VICE. They recke no lawes that meditate reuenge.
ALEX. His ransomes worth will stay from foule reuenge.
VICE. No; if he liued, the newes would soone be heere.
VILLUP. My soueraign, pardon the author of ill newes,
And Ile bewray the fortune of thy sonne.
VICE. Speake on; Ile guerdon thee, what-ere it be.
Mine eare is ready to receiue ill newes,
My hart growne hard gainst mischiefes battery;
Stand vp, I say, and tell thy tale at large.
VILLUP. Then heare that truth which these mine eies have seene:
When both the armies were in battell ioyned.
Don Balthazar amidst the thickest troupes,
To winne renowme, did wondrous feats of armes;
Amongst the rest I saw him hand-to-hand
In single fight with their lord generall.
Till Alexandro, that heere counterfeits
Vnder the colour of a duteous freend,
Discharged a pistol at the princes back,
As though he would haue slaine their generall,
But therwithall Don Balthazar fell downe;
And when he fell, then we began to flie;
But, had he liued, the day had sure bene ours.
ALEX. O wiched forgerie! O traiterous miscreant!
VICE. Hold thou thy peace! But now, Villuppo, say:
Where then became the carkasse of my sonne?
VILLUP. I saw them drag it to the Spanish tents.
VICE. I, I, my nightly dreames haue tolde me this!
Thou false, vnkinde, vnthankfull, traiterous beast!
Wherein had Balthazar offended thee,
That thou should betray him to our foes?
Wast Spanish golde that bleared so thine eyes
That thou couldst see no part of our deserts?
Perchance, because thou art Terseraes lord,
Thou hadst some hope to weare this diademe
If first my sonne and then my-selfe were slaine;
But thy ambitious thought shall breake thy neck.
I, this was it that made thee spill his bloud!
Take the crowne and put it on againe.
But Ile now weare it till they bloud be spilt.
ALEX. Vouchsafe, dread soueraigne, to heare me speak!
VICE. Away with him! his sight is second hell!
Keepe him till we determine his death.
If Balthazar be dead, he shall not liue.
[They take him out.]
Villuppo, follow vs for thy reward.
Exit VICE[ROY].
VILLUP. Thus haue I with an enuious forged tale
Deceiued the king, betraid mine enemy,
And hope for guerdon of my villany.
[ACT I. SCENE 3.]
[Spain: the palace]
Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA.
BEL. Signior Horatio, this is the place and houre
Wherein I must intreat thee to relate
The circumstance of Don Andreas death,
Who liuing was my garlands sweetest flower,
And in his death hath buried my delights.
HOR. For loue of him and seruice to yourself,
[Ile not] refuse this heauy dolefull charge;
Yet teares and sighes, I feare, will hinder me.
When both our armies were enioynd in fight,
Your worthie chiualier admist the thikst,
For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest,
Was at the last by yong Don Balthazar
Encountered hand-to-hand. Their fight was long,
Their harts were great, their clamours menacing,
Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous;
But wrathfull Nemesis, that wicked power,
Enuying at Andreas praise and worth,
Cut short his life to end his praise and woorth.
She, she her-selfe, disguisde in armours maske,
As Pallas was before proud Pergamus,
Brought in a fresh supply of halberdiers,
Which pauncht his horse and dingd him to the ground.
Then yong Don Balthazar, with ruthles rage,
Taking aduantage of his foes distresse,
Did finish what his halberdiers begun;
And left not till Andreas life was done.
Then, though too late, incenst with iust remorce,
I with my band set foorth against the prince,
And brought him prisoner from his halba[r]diers.
BEL. Would thou hadst slaine him that so slew my loue!
But then was Don Andreas carkasse lost?
HOR. No; that was it for which I cheefely stroue,
Nor stept I back till I recouerd him.
I tooke him vp, and wound him in mine armes,
And, welding him vnto my priuate tent,
There laid him downe and dewd him with my teares,
And sighed and sorrowed as became a freend.
But neither freendly sorrow, sighes and teares
Could win pale Death from his vsurped right.
Yet this I did, and lesse I could not doe:
I saw him honoured with due funerall.
This scarfe I pluckt from off his liueles arme,
And wear it in remembrance of my freend.
BEL. I know the scarfe: would he had kept it still!
For, had he liued, he would haue kept it still,
And worne it for his Bel-imperias sake;
For twas my fauour at his last depart.
But now weare thou it both for him and me;
For, after him, thou hast deserued it best.
But, for thy kindnes in his life and death,
Be sure, while Bel-imperias life endures,
She will be Don Horatios thankfull freend.
HOR. And, madame, Don Horatio will not slacke
Humbly to serue faire Bel-imperia.
But now, if your good liking stand thereto,
Ile craue your pardon to goe seeke the prince;
For so the duke, your father, gaue me charge.
Exit.
BEL. I, goe, Horatio; leaue me heere alone,
For solitude best fits my cheereles mood.—
Yet what auailes to waile Andreas death,
From whence Horatio proues my second loue?
Had he not loued Andrea as he did,
He could not sit in Bel-imperias thoughts.
But how can loue finde harbour in my brest,
Till I reuenge the death of my beloued?
Yes, second loue shall further my reuenge:
Ile loue Horatio, my Andreas freend,
The more to spight the prince that wrought his end;
And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my loue,
He shall, in rigour of my iust disdaine,
Reape long repentance for his murderous deed,—
For what wast 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 madam, but in pleasing seruitude.
BEL. Your prison then, belike, is your conceit.
BAL. I, by conceite my freedome is enthralde.
BEL. Then with conceite enlarge your-selfe againe.
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 work 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 thers no remedy?
BAL. Yes, to your gracios 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! there but words of course,
And but deuise to driue me from this place.
She, 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.
[BEL-IMPERIA exits.]
BAL. Signior Horatio stoopt in happie time!
HOR. I reapt more grace that 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, Ill 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 readiness 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 than in warres.
EMBASS. Sad is our king, and Portingale laments,
Supposing that Don Balthazar is slaine.
BAL. [aside] So am I, slaine by beauties tirannie!—
You see, my lord, how Balthazar is slaine:
I frolike with the Duke of Castilles sonne,
Wrapt euery houre in pleasures 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 placel
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 marhsall?
He promised vs, in honor of our guest,
To grace our banquet with some pompous iest.
Enter HIERONIMO with a DRUM, three KNIGHTS,
each with scutchin; then he fethces three
KINGS; they take their crownes and them
captiue.
Hieronimo, this makes contents mine eie,
Although I sound well not the misterie.
HIERO. The first arm'd knight that hung his scutchin vp
He takes the scutchin ahd 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 suche 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 scuthcin plainely may appeare:
He with a puissant armie came to Spaine
And tooke our Kinge of Castille 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 deuice,
Which hath pleasde both the embassador and me:
Pledge me, Hieronimo, 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 to you the best we haue.
Now let vs in, that you may be dispatcht;
I think our councell is already set.
Exeunt omnes.
[CHORUS.]
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 go from hence,
Ile turne their freendship into fell despight,
Their loue to mortall hate, their day to night,
Their hope into dispaire, their peace in warre,
Their ioyes to paine, their blisse to miserie.
ACTUS SECUNDUS.
[ACT II. SCENE 1.]
[The DUKE's castle.]
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 [hardest] 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 merits 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 thats slandred by captiuitie.
Yet might she loue me to content her sire.
I; but her reason masters [her] desire.
Yet might she loue me as her brothers freend.
I; but her hopes aime at some other end.
Yet might she loue me to vpreare her state.
I; but perhaps she [loues] some nobler mate.
Yet might she loue me as her beauties thrall.
I; but I feare she cannot loue at all.
LOR. My lord, for my sake leaue these extasies,
And doubt not but weele finde some remedie.
Some cause there is that lets you not be loued:
First that must needs be knowne, and then remoued.
What if my sister loue some other knight?
BAL. My sommers day will turne to winters night.
LOR. I haue already founde a strategeme
To sound the bottome of this doubtfull theame.
My lord, for once you shall be rulde by me;
Hinder me not what ere you heare or see:
By force or faire meanes will I cast about
To finde the truth of all this question out.
Ho, Pedringano!
PED. Signior.
LOR. Vien qui presto!
Enter PEDRINGANO.
PED. Hath your lordship any seruice to command me?
LOR. I, Pedringano, seruice of import.
And, not to spend the time in trifling words,
Thus stands the case: it is not long, thou knowst,
Since I did shield thee from my fathers wrath
For thy conueniance in Andreas love,
For which thou wert adiudg'd to punishment;
I stood betwixt thee and thy punishment,
And since thou knowest how I haue favored thee.
Now to these fauours will I adde reward,
Not with faire woords, but store of golden coyne
And lands and liuing ioynd with dignities,
If thou but satisfie my iust demaund;
Tell truth and haue me for thy lasting freend.
PED. What-ere it be your lordship shall demaund,
My bounden duety bids me tell the truth,
If case it lye in me to tell the truth.
LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demaund;
Whome loues my sister Bel-imperia?
For she reposeth all her trust in thee.
Speak, man, and gaine both freendship and reward:
I meane, whome loues she in Andreas place?
PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andreas death
I haue no credit with her as before,
And therefore know not if she loue or no.
LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe,
And feare shall force what frendship cannot winne.
Thy death shall bury what thy life conceales.
Thou dyest for more esteeming her than me!
[Draws his sword.]
PED. Oh stay, my lord!
LOR. Yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee
And shield thee from what-euer can ensue,
And will conceale what-euer proceeds from thee;
But, if thou dally once againe, thou diest!
PED. If madame Bel-imperia be in loue—
LOR. What, villaine! ifs and ands?
PED. Oh stay, my lord! she loues Horatio!
BALTHAZAR starts back.
LOR. What! Don Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne?
PED. Euen him, my lord.
LOR. Now say but how knoest thou he is her loue,
And thou shalt finde me kinde and liberall.
Stand vp, I say, and feareles tell the truth.
PED. She sent him letters,—which my-selfe perusde,—
Full-fraught with lines and arguments of loue,
Perferring him before Prince Balthazar.
LOR. Sweare on this crosse that what thou saiest is true,
And that thou wilt conseale what thou hast tolde.
PED. I sweare to both, by him that made vs all.
LOR. In hope thine oath is true, heeres thy reward.
But, if I proue thee periurde and vniust,
This very sword whereon thou tookst thine oath
Shall be the worker of thy tragedie.
PED. What I haue saide is true, and shall, for me,
Be still conceald from Bel-imperia.
Besides, your Honors liberalitie
Deserues my duteous seruice euen till death.
LOR. Let this be all that thou shall doe for me:
Be watchfull when and where these louers meete,
And giue me notice in some secret sort.
PED. I will, my lord.
LOR. Then thou shalt finde that I am liberall.
Thou knowest that I can more aduance thy state
Then she: be therefore wise and faile me not.
Goe and attend her as thy custome is,
Least absence make her think thou doost amisse.
Exit PEDRINGANO.
Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio:
Where wordes preuaile not, violence preuailes.
But golde doth more than either of them both.
How likes Prince Balthazar this strategeme?
BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad:
Glad, that I know the hinderer of my loue;
Sad, that I fear she hates me whome I loue;
Glad, that I know on whome to be reueng'd;
Sad, that sheele flie me if I take reuenge.
Yet must I take reuenge or dye my-selfe;
For loue resisted growes impatient.
I think Horatio be my destind plague:
First, in his hand he brandished a sword,
And with that sword he fiercely waged warre,
And in that warre he gaue me dangerous wounds,
And by those wounds he forced me to yeeld,
And by my yeelding I became his slaue;
Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words,
Which pleasing wordes doe harbour sweet conceits,
Which sweet conceits are lim'd with slie deceits,
Which slie deceits smooth Bel-imperias eares,
And through her eares diue downe into her hart,
And in her hart set him, where I should stand.
Thus hath he tane my body by force,
And now by sleight would captiuate my soule;
But in his fall Ile tempt the Destinies,
And either loose my life or winne my loue.
LOR. Lets goe, my lord; [our] staying staies reuenge.
Doe but follow me, and gaine your loue;
Her fauour must be wonne by his remooue.
Exeunt.