Thomas Kyd

“ PED. Gramercy, boy! but it was time to come, For I had written to my lord anew A neerer matter that concerneth him, For feare his lordship had forgotten me; But, sith he hath rememberd me so well, Come, come, come on! when shall we to this geere? HIERO. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men, And heere, for satisfaction of the world, Confesse thy folly and repent thy fault, For ther's thy place of execution. PED. This is short worke! Well, to your martiallship First I confesse, nor feare I death therefore, I am the man,—twas I slew Serberine. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Know, soueraigne, I come to solemnize The marriage of they beloued neece, Faire Bel-imperia, with my Balthazar,— With thee, my sonne, whom sith I liue to see, Heere, take my crowne, I giue it to her and thee, And let me liue a solitarie life, In ceaseless praiers, To think how strangely heauen hath thee preserued. KING. See, brother, see, how nature striues in him! Come, worthy vice-roy, and accompany They freend, [to strive] with thine extremities: A place more priuate fits this princely mood. ”

“ O, speak, if any sparke of life remaine! I am thy father. Who hath slaine my sonne? What sauadge monster, not of humane kinde, Hath heere beene glutted with thy harmeles blood, And left they bloudie corpes dishonoured heere, For me amidst these darke and dreadfull shades To drowne thee with an ocean of my teares? ”

“ HOR. But, first, my lookes shall combat against thee.
BEL. Then ward thy-selfe! I dart this kiss as thee.
HOR. Thus I [return] the dart thou threwest at me!
BEL. Nay then, to gaine the glory of the field,
⁠My twining armes shall yoake and make thee yeeld.
HOR. Nay then, my armes are large and strong withall:
⁠Thus elmes by vines are compast till they fall.
BEL. O, let me goe, for in my troubled eyes
⁠Now maist thou read that life in passion dies!
HOR. O, stay a-while, and I will dye with thee;
⁠So shalt thou yeeld, and yet haue conquerd me.
BEL. Whose there? Pedringano? We are betraide! ”

“ 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. ”

“ He whispereth in her eare.
⁠But, Bel-imperia, see the gentle prince;
⁠Looke on thy loue; beholde yong Balthazar,
⁠Whose passions by the presence are increast,
⁠And in whose melachollie thou maiest see
⁠Thy hate, his loue, thy flight, his following thee.
BEL. Brother, you are become an oratour—
⁠I know not, I, by what experience—
⁠Too politick for me, past all compare,
⁠Since I last saw you. But content your-selfe;
⁠The prince is meditating higher things. ”

“ Erasto, Soliman saluteth thee, And lets thee wit by me his Highnes will, Which is, thou shouldst be thus imploid. Stab him. BEL. [acting] Ay, me, Erasto! See, Solyman, Erastoes slaine! BALT. [acting] Yet liueth Solyman to comfort thee. Faire queene of beautie, let not fauour die, Both with gratious eye behlde his griefe, That with Persedaes beautie is encreast, If by Perseda griefe be not releast. BEL. [acting] Tyrant, desist soliciting vaine sutes; Relentles are mine eares to thy laments As thy butcher is pittilesse and base Which seazd on my Erasto, harmelesse knight. ”

“ Why bends thou thus thy minde to martir me? Hieronimo, why writ I of they wrongs, Or why art thou so slack in thy reuenge? Andrea! O Andrea, that thou sawest Me for thy freend Horatio handled thus, And him for me thus causeles murdered! Well, force perforce, I must constraine my-selfe To patience, and apply me to the time, Till Heauen, as I haue hoped, shall set me free. ”

“ Hieronimo, beware! goe by, goe by! EMBAS. Renowned king, he hath receiued and read thy kingly proffers and thy promist league, And, as a man exreamely ouer-ioyd To heare his sonne so princely entertainde, Whose death he had so solemnely bewailde, This, for thy further satisfaction And kingly loue, he kindely lets thee know: First, for the marriage of his princely sonne With Bel-imperia, thy beloued neece, The newes are more delightfull to his soule Then myrrh or incense to the offended Heauens. ”

“ The left hand path, declining fearfuly, Was ready downfall to the deepest hell, Where bloudie Furies shakes their whips of steele, And poore Ixion turnes an endles wheele, Where vsurers are choakt with melting golde, And wantons are imbraste with ougly snakes, And murderers groane with neuer-killing wounds, And periured wights scalded in boiling lead, And all foule sinnes with torments ouerwhelmd; Twixt these two waies I trod the middle path, Which brought me to the faire Elizian greene, In midst whereof there standes a stately towre, The walles of brasse, the gates of adamant. ”

“ HIERO. In troth, my lord, it is a thing of nothing:
⁠The murder of a sonne or so, my lord,—
⁠A thing of nothing.
[End of insertion.]
LOR. Why then, farewell!
HIERO. My griefe in hart, my thoughts no tung can tell.
Exit.
LOR. Come hither, Pedringano; seest thou this?
PED. My lord, I see it, and suspect it too.
LOR. This is that damned villain Serberine,
⁠That hath, I feare, reuealde Horatios death.
PED. My lord, he could not; twas so lately done,
⁠And since he hath not left my company.
LOR. Admit he haue not; his conditions such
⁠As feare or flattering words may make him false. ”

“ KING. I, Balthazar, if he obserue this truce,
⁠Our peace will grow the stronger for these warres.
⁠Meane-while liue thou, though not in libertie,
⁠Yet free from bearing any seruile yoake;
⁠For in our hearing thy deserts were great.
⁠And in our sight thy-selfe art gratious.
BALT. And I shall studie to deserue this grace.
KING. But tell me,— for their holding makes me doubt:
⁠To Which of these twaine art thou prisoner?
LOR. To me, my liege.
HOR. To me, my soueraigne. ”

“ A thing begot
⁠Within a paire of minutes, there-about;
⁠A lump bred up in darknesse, and doth serue
⁠To ballance those light creatures we call women,
⁠And at nine monethes end creepes foorth to light.
⁠What is there yet in a sonne to make a father
⁠Dote, rave or runne mad? Being born, it pouts,
⁠Cries, and breeds teeth. What is there yet in a sonne?
⁠He must be fed, be taught to goe and speake.
⁠I, and yet? Why might not a man love
⁠A calfe as well, or melt in passion over
⁠A frisking kid, as for a sonne? ”

“ I, danger mixt with iealous despite Shall send thy soule into eternalle night! ”

“ Ile lead my freend Horatio through those feeldes Where neuer-dying warres are still inurde; Ile lead faire Isabella to that traine Where pittie weepes but neuer feeleth paine; Ile lead my Bel-imperia to those ioyes That vestal virgins and faire queenes possess; Ile lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plaies, Adding sweet pleasure to eternall daies. But say, Reuenge,—for thou must helpe or none,— Against the rest how shall my hate be showne? REUENGE. This hand shall hale them down to deepest hell, Where none but furies, bugs and tortures dwell. ”

“ Oh, my sonne, my sonne! oh, my sonne Horatio! But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content; Heere, take my hand-kercher and wipe thine eies, Whiles wretched I in thy mishaps may see The liuely portraict of my dying selfe. He draweth out a bloudie napkin. O, no; not this! Horatio, this was thine! And when I dyde it in thy deerest blood, This was a token twixt thy soule and me That of thy death reuenged I should be. But heere: take this, and this! what? my purse? I, this and that and all of them are thine; For all as one are our extremeties. I CIT. Oh, see the kindenes of Hieronimo! ”

“ The starres, thou seest, holde back their twinckling shine And Luna hides her-selfe to pleasure vs. BEL. Thou hast preuailed! Ile conquer my misdoubt, And in thy loue and councell drowne my feare. I feare no more; loue now is all my thoughts! Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease. HOR. The more thou sitst within these leauy bowers, The more will Flora decke it with her flowers. BEL. I; but, if Flora spye Horatio heere, Her iealous eye will think I sit too neere. HOR. Harke, madame, how the birds record by night, For ioy that Bel-imperia sits in sight! ”

“ REUENGE. Content thy-selfe, and doe not trouble me. GHOST. Awake, Reuenge, if loue, as loue hath had, Haue yet the power of preuailance in hell! Hieronimo with Lorenzo is ioynde in league, And intecepts our passage to reuenge. Awake, Reuenge, or we are woe-begone! REUENGE. Thus worldings ground what they haue dreamd vpon! Content thy-selfe, Andrea; though I sleepe, Yet is my mood soliciting their soules. Sufficeth thee that poore Hieronimo Cannot forget his sonne Horatio. Nor dies Reuegne although he sleepe a-while; For in vnquiet, quietnes is faind, And slumbring is a common worldly wile. ”

“ But loue of him whome they did hate too much Did vrge her resolution to be such. And princes, now beholde Hieronimo, Author and actor in this tragedie, Bearing his latest fortune in his fist; And will as resolute conclude his parte As any of the actors gone before. And, gentles, thus I end my play! Vrge no more words, I haue no more to say. He runs to hang himselfe. KING. O hearken, vice-roy; holde Hieronimo! Brother, my newphew and they sonne are slaine! VICE. We are betraide! my Balthazar is slaine! Breake ope the doores; runne saue Hieronimo! ”

“ Heere he throwes it from him and beares the body away. [CHORUS.] ANDREA. Broughtst thou me hether to increase my paine? I lookt that Balthazar should haue been slaine; But tis my freend Horatio that is slaine, And they abuse faire Bel-imperia, On whom I doted more then all the world, Because she lou'd me more then all the world. REUENGE. Thou talkest of haruest, when the corne is greene; The end is [growne] of euery worke well done; The sickle comes not till the corne be ripe. Be still, and, ere I lead thee from this place, Ile shew thee Balthazar in heauy case. ”

“ Liue, hart, to ioy at fond Horatios fall! BEL. Why stands Horatio speecheles all this while? HOR. The lesse I speak, the more I meditate. BEL. But whereon doost thou cheifely meditate? HOR. On dangers past and pleasures to ensue. BAL. On pleasures past and dangers to ensue! BEL. What dangers and what pleasures doost thou mean? HOR. Dangers of warre and pleasures of our loue. LOR. Dangers of death, but pleasures none at all! BEL. Let dangers goe; thy warre shall be with me, But such a [warre] as breakes no bond of peace. Speake thou faire words, Ile crosse them with faire words ”

“ Thus must we worke that will auoide distrust, Thus must we practice to preuent mishap, And thus one ill another must expulse. This slie enquiry of Hieronimo For Bel-imperia, breeds suspition; And [thus] suspition boads a further ill. As for my-selfe, I know my secret fault, And so doe they, but I haue dealt for them. They that for coine their soules endangered To saue my life, for coyne shall venture theirs; And better tis that base companions dye Then by their life to hazard our good haps. Nor shall they liue for me to feare their faith; Ile trust my-selfe, my-selfe shall be my freend ”

“ How now, girle?
⁠Why commest thou sadly to salute vs thus?
⁠Content thy-selfe, for I am satisfied.
⁠It is not now as when Andrea liu'd;
⁠We haue forgotten and forgiuen that,
⁠And thou art graced with a happeir loue.
⁠But, Balthazar, heere comes Hieronimo;
⁠Ile haue a word with him.
Enter HIERONIMO and a SERUANT.
HIERO. And wheres the duke?
SER. Yonder.
HIERO. Euen so.
⁠ [aside] What new deuice haue they deuised, tro?
⁠Pocas palabras! Milde as the lambe!
⁠Ist I will be reueng'd? No, I am not the man.
CAS. Welcome, Hieronimo!
LOR. Welcome, Hieronimo!
BAL. Welcome, Hieronimo! ”

“ Exeunt all but the OLDE MAN [DON BAZULTO] . BAZULTO remaines till HIERONIMO enters againe, who, staring him the face, speakes: And art thou come, Horatio, from the depth, To aske for iustice in this vpper earth? T [o] tell thy father thou art vnreuenged? To wring more teares from Isabellas eies, Whose lights are dimd with ouer-long laments? Goe back, my sonne, complaine to Eacus; For heeres no iustice. Gentle boy, begone; For iustice is exiled from the earth. H [i] eronimo will beare thee company. Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant For iust reuenge against the murderers. ”

“ LOR [ENZO] , and HOR [ATIO] .
[KING.] Welcome, Don Balthazar! Welcome nephew!
⁠And thou, Horatio, thou art welcome too!
⁠Young prince, although thy fathers hard misdeedes
⁠In keeping backe the tribute that he owes
⁠Deserue but euill measure at our hands,
⁠Yet shalt thou know that Spaine is honorable.
BALT. The trespasse that my father made in peace
⁠Is now controlde by fortune of the warres;
⁠And cards once dealt, it bootes not aske why so.
⁠His men are slaine,— a weakening to his realme;
⁠His colours ceaz'd,— a blot vnto his name;
⁠His sonne distrest,— a corsiue to his hart ”

“ If destinie thy miseries doe ease, Then hast thou health, and happie shalt thou be; If destinie denie thee life, Hieronimo, Yet shalt thou be assured of a tombe; If neither, yet let this thy comfort be: Heauen couereth him that hath no buriall. And, to conclude, I will reuenge his death! But how? Not as the vulgare wits of men, With open, but ineuitable ils; As by a secret, yet a certaine meane, Which vnder kindeship wilbe cloked best. Wise men will take their opportunitie, Closely and safely fitting things to time; But in extreames aduantage hath no time ”

“ A small aduantage makes a water-breach; And no man liues that long contenteth all. CAS. My-selfe haue seene thee busie to keep back Him and his supplications from the king. LOR. Your-selfe, my l [ord] , hath seene his assions, That ill beseemde the presence of a king; And, for I pittied him in his distresse, I helde him thence with kinde and curteous words, As free from malice to Hieronimo As to my soule, my lord. CAS. Hieronimo, my sonne, mistakes thee then. LOR. My gratious father, beleeue me, so he doth; But whats a silly man, distract in minde To think vpon the murder of his sonne? ”