Enter Hieronimo.
HIERONIMO.
O eyes! no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears:
O life! no life, but lively form of death:
O world! no world, but mass of public wrongs,
Confus'd and fill'd with murder and misdeeds:
O sacred heav'ns! if this unhallow'd deed,
If this inhumane and barbarous attempt;
If this incomparable murder thus
Of mine, but now no more my son,
Shall unreveal'd and unrevenged pass,
How should we term your dealings to be just,
If you unjustly deal with those that in your justice trust?
The night, sad secretary to my moans,
With direful visions wake my vexed soul,
And with the wounds of my distressful son,
Solicit me for notice of his death.
The ugly fiends do sally forth of hell,
And frame my steps to unfrequented paths,
And fear[149] my heart with fierce inflamed thoughts.
The cloudy day my discontents[150] records,
Early begins to register my dreams,
And drive me forth to seek the murderer.
Eyes, life, world, heav'ns, hell, night, and day,
See, search, show, send some man,
Some mean, that may— [A letter falleth.
What's here? a letter? tush! it is not so:
A letter written to Hieronimo. [Red ink.
For want of ink, receive this bloody writ;
Me hath my hapless brother hid from thee:
Revenge thyself on Balthazar and him;
For these were they that murdered thy son.
Hieronimo, revenge Horatio's death,
And better far than Bell'-Imperia doth.
What means this unexpected miracle?
My son slain by Lorenzo and the prince!
What cause had they Horatio to malign?
Or what might move thee, Bell'-Imperia,
To accuse thy brother, had he been the mean?
Hieronimo, beware, thou art betray'd,
And to entrap thy life this train is laid:
Advise thee therefore, be not credulous;
This is devised to endanger thee,
That thou by this Lorenzo shouldst accuse;
And he, for thy dishonour done, should draw
Thy life in question and thy name in hate.
Dear was the life of my beloved son,
And of his death behoves me be reveng'd:
Then hazard not thine own, Hieronimo;
But live t' effect thy resolution.
I therefore will by circumstances try,
What I can gather to confirm this writ;
And, heark'ning[151] near the Duke of Castile's house,
Close, if I can, with Bell'-Imperia,
To listen more, but nothing to bewray.[152]
Enter Pedringano.
Hieronimo.
Now, Pedringano!
Pedringano.
Now, Hieronimo!