ISA. And I'll close up the glasses of his sight;
For once these eyes were only my delight.
HIERO. See'st thou this handkerchief besmear'd with blood?
It shall not from me till I take revenge;
See'st thou those wounds that yet are bleeding fresh?
I'll not entomb them till I have reveng'd:
Then will I joy amidst my discontent,
Till then, my sorrow never shall be spent.
ISA. The heav'ns are just, murder cannot be hid;
Time is the author of both truth and right,
And time will bring this treachery to light.
HIERO. Meanwhile, good Isabella, cease thy plaints,
Or, at the least, dissemble them awhile;
So shall we sooner find the practise out,
And learn by whom all this was brought about.
Come, Isabell, now let us take him up.
They take him up.
And bear him in from out this cursed place.
I'll say his dirge,—singing fits not this case.
O aliquis mihi quas pulchrum ver educat herbas
HIERONIMO sets his breast unto his sword.
Misceat, et nostro detur medicina dolori;
Aut, si qui faciunt annorum oblivia, succos
Praebeat; ipse metam magnum quaecunque per orbem
Gramina Sol pulchras effert in luminis oras.
Ipse bibam quicquid meditatur saga veneni,
Quicquid et herbarum vi caeca nenia nectit.
Omnia perpetiar, lethum quoque, dum semel omnis
Noster in extincto moriatur pectore sensus.
Ergo tuos oculos nunquam, mea vita videbo,
Et tua perpetuus sepelivit lumina somnus?
Emoriar tecum: sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras!
Attamen absistam properato cedere letho,
Ne mortem vindicta tuam tam nulla sequatur.
Here he throws it from him and bears the
body away.