The Spanish Tragedy Part 25

KING. What age hath ever heard such monstrous deeds?

My brother and the whole succeeding hope That Spain expected after my decease.

Go bear his body hence, that we may mourn The loss of our beloved brother's death, That he may be entomb'd. Whate'er befall, I am the next, the nearest, last of all.

VICE. And thou, Don Pedro, do the like for us: Take up our hapless son untimely slain; Set me up with him, and he with woeful me, Upon the main-mast of a s.h.i.+p unmann'd, And let the wind and tide hale me along To Scylla's barking and untamed gulf Or to the loathsome pool of Acheron, To weep my want for my sweet Balthazar.

Spain hath no refuge for a Portingale!

The trumpets sound a dead march, the KING OF SPAIN mourning after his brother's body, and the KING OF PORTINGAL bearing the body of his son.

[CHORUS.]

Enter GHOST and REVENGE.

GHOST. Aye; now my hopes have end in their effects, When blood and sorrow finish my desires: Horatio murder'd in his father's bower, Vile Serberine by Pedrigano slain, False Pedrigano hang'd by quaint device, Fair Isabella by herself misdone, Prince Balthazar by Bel-imperia stabb'd, The Duke of Castile and his wicked son Both done to death by old Hieronimo, My Bel-imperia fallen as Dido fell, And good Hieronimo slain by himself!

Aye, these were spectacles to please my soul.

Now will I beg at lovely Proserpine That, by the virtue of her princely doom, I may consort my friends in pleasing sort, And on my foes work just and sharp revenge.

I'll lead my friend Horatio through those fields Where never-dying wars are still inur'd; I'll lead fair Isabella to that train Where pity weeps but never feeleth pain; I'll lead my Bel-imperia to those joys That vestal virgins and fair queens possess; I'll lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plays, Adding sweet pleasure to eternal days.

But say, Revenge,--for thou must help or none,-- Against the rest how shall my hate be shown?

REVENGE. This hand shall hale them down to deepest h.e.l.l, Where none but furies, bugs and tortures dwell.

GHOST. Then, sweet Revenge, do this at my request: Let me judge and doom them to unrest; Let loose poor t.i.tius from the vulture's gripe, And let Don Ciprian supply his room; Place Don Lorenzo on Ixion's wheel, And let the lovers' endless pains surcease, Juno forget old wrath and grant him ease; Hang Balthazar about Chimera's neck, And let him there bewail his b.l.o.o.d.y love, Repining at our joys that are above; Let Serberine go roll the fatal stone And take from Sisyphus his endless moan; False Pedringano, for his treachery, Let him be dragg'd through boiling Acheron, And there live dying still in endless flames, Blaspheming G.o.ds and all their holy names.

REVENGE. Then haste we down to meet thy friends and foes; To place thy friends in ease, the rest in woes.

For here though death doth end their misery, I'll there begin their endless tragedy.

Exeunt.

FINIS.