Read Ebook: The Spanish Tragedie by Kyd Thomas

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Ebook has 888 lines and 40375 words, and 18 pages

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.

LOR. This hand first tooke his courser by the raines.

HOR. But first my launce did put him from his horse.

LOR. I ceaz'd the weapon and enioyde it first.

HOR. But first I forc'd him lay his weapons downe.

KING. Let goe his arm, vpon my priviledge!

Let him goe.

Say, worthy prince: to whether didst thou yeeld?

BALT. To him in curtesie; to this perforce; He spake me faire, this other gaue me strokes; He promisde life, this other threatned death; He wan my loue, this other conquerd me; And, truth to say, I yeeld my-selfe to both.

HIERO. But that I your Grace is iust and wise, And might seeme partiall in this difference, Inforct by nature and by law of armes, My tongue should plead for young Horatios right. He hunted well that was a lyons death, Not he that in a garment wore his skin; So hares may pull dead lyons by the beard.

KING. Content thee, marshall; thou shalt haue no wrong, And for thy sake thy sonne shall want to right. Will both abide the censure of my doome?

LOR. I craue no better than your Grace awards.

HOR. Nor I, although I sit beside my right.

KING. Then by iudgement thus your strife shall end: You both deserue and both shall haue reward. Nephew, thou tookst his weapon and his horse: His weapons and his horse are thy reward. Horatio, thou didst force him first to yeeld: His ransome therefore is thy valours fee; Appoint the sum as you shall both agree. But, nephew, thou shalt haue the prince in guard, For thine estate best fitteth such a guest; Horatios house were small for all his traine. Yet, in regard they substance passeth his, And that iust guerdon may befall desert, To him we yeeld the armour of the prince. How likes don Balthazar of this deuice?

BALT. Right well, my liege, if this prouizo were: That Don Horatio beare vs company, Whome I admire and loue for chiualrie.

KING. Horatio, leaue him not that loues thee so. Now let vs hence, to see our souldiers paide, And feast our prisoner as our friendly guest.

Exeunt.

Enter VICEROY, ALEXANDRO, VILLUPPO.

VICE. Is our embassadour dispatcht for Spaine?

VICE. And tribute paiment gone along with him?

VICE. Then rest we heere a-while in our vnrest; And feede our sorrowes with inward sighes, For deepest cares break neuer into teares. But wherefore sit I in a regall throne? This better fits a wretches endles moane. Yet this is higher then my fortunes reach, And therefore better then my state deserues.

Falles to the grounde.

I, I, this earth, image of melancholly, Seeks him whome fates to miserie! Heere let me lye! Now am I at the lowest! Qui iacet in terra non habet vnde cadat. In me concumpsit vires fortuna nocendo, Nil superest vt iam possit obesse magis. Yes, Fortune may bereaue me of my crowne-- Heere, take it now; let Fortune doe her worst, She shall now rob me of this sable weed. O, no, she enuies none but pleasent things. Such is the folly of despightfull chance, Fortune is blinde and sees not my deserts, So is she deafe and heares not my laments; And, coulde she heare, yet is she willfull mad, And therefore will not pittie my distresse. Suppose that she coulde pittie me, what then? What helpe can be expected at her hands Whose foote is standing on a rowling stone And minde more mutable then fickle windes? Why waile I, then, wheres hope of no redresse? O, yes, complaining makes my greefe seeme lesse. My late ambition hath distaind my faith, My breach of faith occaisioned bloudie warres, Those bloudie warres haue spent my treasure, And with my treasure my peoples blood, And with the blood my ioy and best beloued,-- My best beloued, my sweet and onely sonne! O, wherefore went I not to warre my-selfe? The cause was mine; I might haue died for both. My yeeres were mellow, but his young and greene: My death were naturall, but his was forced.

VICE. Suruiues! I, where?

VICE. Then they haue slaine him for his fathers fault.

VICE. They recke no lawes that meditate reuenge.

VICE. No; if he liued, the newes would soone be heere.

VILLUP. My soueraign, pardon the author of ill newes, And Ile bewray the fortune of thy sonne.

VICE. Speake on; Ile guerdon thee, what-ere it be. Mine eare is ready to receiue ill newes, My hart growne hard gainst mischiefes battery; Stand vp, I say, and tell thy tale at large.

VILLUP. Then heare that truth which these mine eies have seene: When both the armies were in battell ioyned. Don Balthazar amidst the thickest troupes, To winne renowme, did wondrous feats of armes; Amongst the rest I saw him hand-to-hand In single fight with their lord generall. Till Alexandro, that heere counterfeits Vnder the colour of a duteous freend, Discharged a pistol at the princes back, As though he would haue slaine their generall, But therwithall Don Balthazar fell downe; And when he fell, then we began to flie; But, had he liued, the day had sure bene ours.

VICE. Hold thou thy peace! But now, Villuppo, say: Where then became the carkasse of my sonne?

VILLUP. I saw them drag it to the Spanish tents.

VICE. I, I, my nightly dreames haue tolde me this! Thou false, vnkinde, vnthankfull, traiterous beast! Wherein had Balthazar offended thee, That thou should betray him to our foes? Wast Spanish golde that bleared so thine eyes That thou couldst see no part of our deserts? Perchance, because thou art Terseraes lord, Thou hadst some hope to weare this diademe If first my sonne and then my-selfe were slaine; But thy ambitious thought shall breake thy neck. I, this was it that made thee spill his bloud!

Take the crowne and put it on againe.

But Ile now weare it till they bloud be spilt.

VICE. Away with him! his sight is second hell! Keepe him till we determine his death. If Balthazar be dead, he shall not liue.

Villuppo, follow vs for thy reward.

Exit VICE.

VILLUP. Thus haue I with an enuious forged tale Deceiued the king, betraid mine enemy, And hope for guerdon of my villany.

Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA.

BEL. Signior Horatio, this is the place and houre Wherein I must intreat thee to relate The circumstance of Don Andreas death, Who liuing was my garlands sweetest flower, And in his death hath buried my delights.

HOR. For loue of him and seruice to yourself, refuse this heauy dolefull charge; Yet teares and sighes, I feare, will hinder me. When both our armies were enioynd in fight, Your worthie chiualier admist the thikst, For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, Was at the last by yong Don Balthazar Encountered hand-to-hand. Their fight was long, Their harts were great, their clamours menacing, Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous; But wrathfull Nemesis, that wicked power, Enuying at Andreas praise and worth, Cut short his life to end his praise and woorth. She, she her-selfe, disguisde in armours maske, As Pallas was before proud Pergamus, Brought in a fresh supply of halberdiers, Which pauncht his horse and dingd him to the ground. Then yong Don Balthazar, with ruthles rage, Taking aduantage of his foes distresse, Did finish what his halberdiers begun; And left not till Andreas life was done. Then, though too late, incenst with iust remorce, I with my band set foorth against the prince, And brought him prisoner from his halbadiers.

BEL. Would thou hadst slaine him that so slew my loue! But then was Don Andreas carkasse lost?

HOR. No; that was it for which I cheefely stroue, Nor stept I back till I recouerd him. I tooke him vp, and wound him in mine armes, And, welding him vnto my priuate tent, There laid him downe and dewd him with my teares, And sighed and sorrowed as became a freend. But neither freendly sorrow, sighes and teares Could win pale Death from his vsurped right. Yet this I did, and lesse I could not doe: I saw him honoured with due funerall. This scarfe I pluckt from off his liueles arme, And wear it in remembrance of my freend.

BEL. I know the scarfe: would he had kept it still! For, had he liued, he would haue kept it still, And worne it for his Bel-imperias sake; For twas my fauour at his last depart. But now weare thou it both for him and me; For, after him, thou hast deserued it best. But, for thy kindnes in his life and death, Be sure, while Bel-imperias life endures, She will be Don Horatios thankfull freend.

HOR. And, madame, Don Horatio will not slacke Humbly to serue faire Bel-imperia. But now, if your good liking stand thereto, Ile craue your pardon to goe seeke the prince; For so the duke, your father, gaue me charge.

Exit.

BEL. I, goe, Horatio; leaue me heere alone, For solitude best fits my cheereles mood.-- Yet what auailes to waile Andreas death, From whence Horatio proues my second loue? Had he not loued Andrea as he did, He could not sit in Bel-imperias thoughts. But how can loue finde harbour in my brest, Till I reuenge the death of my beloued? Yes, second loue shall further my reuenge: Ile loue Horatio, my Andreas freend, The more to spight the prince that wrought his end; And, where Don Balthazar, that slew my loue, He shall, in rigour of my iust disdaine, Reape long repentance for his murderous deed,-- For what wast els but murderous cowardise, So many to oppresse one valiant knight, Without respect of honour in the fight? And heere he comes that murdred my delight.

Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.

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