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.