[Spain: the palace]
Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA.
BEL. Signior Horatio, this is the place and hour
Wherein I must entreat thee to relate
The circumstance of Don Andrea's death,
Who living was my garland's sweetest flower,
And in his death hath buried my delights.
HOR. For love of him and service to yourself,
I'll not refuse this heavy doleful charge;
Yet tears and sighs, I fear, will hinder me.
When both our armies were enjoin'd in fight,
Your worthy cavalier amidst the thickest,
For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest,
Was at the last by young Don Balthazar
Encounter'd hand-to-hand. Their fight was long,
Their hearts were great, their clamours menacing,
Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous;
But wrathful Nemesis, that wicked power,
Envying at Andrea's praise and worth,
Cut short his life to end his praise and worth.
She, she herself, disguis'd in armour's mask,
As Pallas was before proud Pergamus,
Brought in a fresh supply of halberdiers,
Which punch'd his horse and ding'd him to the ground.
Then young Don Balthazar, with ruthless rage,
Taking advantage of his foe's distress,
Did finish what his halberdiers begun;
And left not till Andrea's life was done.
Then, though too late, incens'd with just remorse,
I with my band set forth against the prince,
And brought him prisoner from his halberdiers.
BEL. Would thou hadst slain him that so slew my love!
But then was Don Andrea's carcass lost?
HOR. No; that was it for which I chiefly strove,
Nor stepp'd I back till I recover'd him.
I took him up, and wound him in mine arms,
And, wielding him unto my private tent,
There laid him down and dew'd him with my tears,
And sigh'd and sorrow'd as became a friend.
But neither friendly sorrow, sighs and tears
Could win pale Death from his usurped right.
Yet this I did, and less I could not do:
I saw him honour'd with due funeral.
This scarf I pluck'd from off his lifeless arm,
And wear it in remembrance of my friend.
BEL. I know the scarf: would he had kept it still!
For, had he liv'd, he would have kept it still,
And worn it for his Bel-imperia's sake;
For 'twas my favour at his last depart.
But now wear thou it both for him and me;
For, after him, thou hast deserv'd it best.
But, for thy kindness in his life and death,
Be sure, while Bel-imperia's life endures,
She will be Don Horatio's thankful friend.
HOR. And, madame, Don Horatio will not slack
Humbly to serve fair Bel-imperia.
But now, if your good liking stand thereto,
I'll crave your pardon to go seek the prince;
For so the duke, your father, gave me charge.
Exit.
BEL. Aye, go, Horatio; leave me here alone,
For solitude best fits my cheerless mood.—
Yet what avails to wail Andreas death,
From whence Horatio proves my second love?
Had he not lov'd Andrea as he did,
He could not sit in Bel-imperia's thoughts.
But how can love find harbour in my breast,
Till I revenge the death of my belov'd?
Yes, second love shall further my revenge:
I'll love Horatio, my Andrea's friend,
The more to spite the prince that wrought his end;
And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my love,
Himself now pleads for favor at my hands,
He shall, in rigour of my just disdain,
Reap long repentance for his murderous deed,—
For what was't else but murderous cowardice,
So many to oppress one valiant knight,
Without respect of honour in the fight?
And here he comes that murder'd my delight.