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The night, sad secretary to my mones, With direfull visions wake my vexed soule, And with the wounds of my distresfull sonne Solicite me for notice of his death; The ougly feends do sally forth of h.e.l.l, And frame my hart with fierce inflamed thoughts; The cloudie day my discontents records, Early begins to regester my dreames And driue me forth to seeke the murtherer.
Eies, life, world, heauens, hel, night and day, See, search, show, send, some man, some meane, that may!
A letter falleth.
Whats heere? a letter? Tush, it is not so!
A letter for Hieronimo.
[Reads] "For want of incke receiue this bloudie writ.
Me hath my haples brother hid from thee.
Reuenge thy-selfe on Balthazar and him, For these were they that murdered thy sonne.
Hieronimo, reuenge Horatios death, And better fare then Bel-imperia doth!"-- What meanes this vnexpected miracle?
My sonne slaine by Lorenzo and the prince?
What cause had they Horatio to maligne?
Or what might mooue thee, Bel-imperia, To accuse they brother, had he beene the meane?
Hieronimo, beware! thou art betraide, And to intrap they life this traine is laide.
Aduise thee therefore, be not credulous: This is deuised to endanger thee, That thou, by this, Lorenzo shoulst accuse.
And he, for thy dishonour done, show draw Thy life in question and thy name in hate.
Deare was the life of my beloved sonne, And of his death behoues me to be aueng'd: Then hazard not thine own, Hieronimo, But liue t'effect thy resolution!
I therefore will by circ.u.mstances trie What I can gather to confirme this writ, And, [harken] neere the Duke of Castiles house, Close if I can with Belimperia, To listen more, but nothing to bewray.
Enter PEDRINGANO.
Now, Predringano!
PED. Now, Hieronimo!
HIERO. Wheres thy lady?
PED. I know not; heers my lord.
Enter LORENZO.
LOR. How now, whose this? Hieronimo?
HIERO. My lord.
PED. He asketh me for my lady Bel-imperia.
LOR. What to doo, Hieronimo? Vse me.
[Dialogue from the undated and the 'A' ma.n.u.script.]
HIERO. Oh, no, my lord, I dare not, it must not be; I humbly thank your lords.h.i.+p.
[End of insertion.]
[Dialogue from the 1618, 1623, and 1633 editions.]
HIERO. Who? You, my lord?
I reserue your favour for a greater honour; This is a very toy, my lord, a toy.
LOR. All's one, Hieronimo; acquaint me with it.
HIERO. Y faith, my lord, tis an idle thing.
I must confesse I ha bin too slacke, too tardy, To remisse vnto your Honour.
LOR. How now, Hieronimo?
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 d.a.m.ned 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.
I know his humour, and there-with repent That ere I vsde him in this enterprise.
But, Pedringano, to preuent the worst, And cause I know thee secret as my soule, Heere, for thy further satisfaction, take thou this!
Giues him more golde.
And harken to me; thus it is deuisde: This night thou must--and prithee so resoule-- Meet Serberine at St. Luigis Parke,-- Thou knowest tis heere hard by behinde the house; There take thy stand, and see thou strike him sure, For dye he must, if we do meane to liue.
PED. But how shall Serberine be there, my lord?
LOR. Let me alone, Ile send him to meet The prince and me where thou must doe this deed.
PED. It shalbe done, my l[ord]; it shall be done; And Ile goe arme my-selfe to meet him there.
LOR. When things shall alter, as I hope they wil, Then shalt thou mount for this, thou knowest my minde.
Exit PED[RINGANO].
Che le Ieron!
Enter PAGE.
PAGE. My lord.