The Spanish Tragedie Part 4

[BEL-IMPERIA exits.]

BAL. Signior Horatio stoopt in happie time!

HOR. I reapt more grace that I deseru'd or hop'd.

LOR. My lord, be not dismaid for what is past; You know that women oft are humerous: These clouds will ouerblow with little winde; Let me alone, Ill scatter them my-selfe.

Meane-while let vs deuise to spend the time In some delightfull sports and reuelling.

HOR. The king, my lords, is comming hither straight To feast the Portingall emba.s.sadour; Things were in readiness before I came.

BAL. Then heere it fits vs to attend the king, To welcome hither our emba.s.sadour, And learne my father and my countries health.

Enter the banquet, TRUMPETS, the KING, and EMBa.s.sADOUR.

KING. See, lord emba.s.sador, how Spaine intreats Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroyes sonne: We pleasure more in kindenes than in warres.

EMBa.s.s. 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.

KING. Put off your greetings till our feast be done; Now come and sit with vs, and taste our cheere.

Sit to the banquet.

Sit downe, young prince, you are our second guest; Brother, sit downe; and nephew, take your placel Signior Horatio, waite thou vpon our cup, For well thou hast deserued to be honored.

Now, lordings, fall too: Spaine is Portugall, And Portugall is Spaine; we both are freends; Tribute is paid, and we enioy our right.

But where is olde Hieronimo, our marhsall?

He promised vs, in honor of our guest, To grace our banquet with some pompous iest.

Enter HIERONIMO with a DRUM, three KNIGHTS, each with scutchin; then he fethces three KINGS; they take their crownes and them captiue.

Hieronimo, this makes contents mine eie, Although I sound well not the misterie.

HIERO. The first arm'd knight that hung his scutchin vp

He takes the scutchin ahd giues it to the KING.

Was English Robert, Earle of Glocester, Who, when King Stephen bore sway in Albion, Arriued with fiue and twenty thousand men In Portingale, and, by successe of warre, Enforced the king, then but a Sarasin, To beare the yoake of the English monarchie.

KING. My lord of Portingale, by this you see That which may comfort both your king and you, And make your late discomfort seeme the lesse.

But say, Hieronimo: what was the next?

HIERO. The second knight that hung his scutchin vp

He doth as he did before.

Was Edmond, Earle of Kent in Albion.

When English Richard wore the diadem, He came likewise and razed Lisbon walles, And tooke the king of Portingale in fight,-- For which, and other suche seruice done, He after was created Duke of Yorke.

KING. This is another speciall argument That Portingale may daine to beare our yoake, When it by little England hath beene yoakt.

But now, Hieronimo, what were the last?

HIERO. The third and last, not least in our account,

Dooing as before.

Was, as the rest, a valiant Englishman, Braue Iohn of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, As by his scuthcin plainely may appeare: He with a puissant armie came to Spaine And tooke our Kinge of Castille prisoner.

EMBa.s.s. This is an argument for our viceroy That Spaine may not insult for her successe, Since English warriours likewise conquered Spaine And made them bow their knees to Albion.

KING. Hieronimo, I drinke to thee for this deuice, Which hath pleasde both the emba.s.sador and me: Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou loue the king!

Takes the cup of HORATIO.

My lord, I feare we sit but ouer-long, Vnlesse our dainties were more delicate,-- But welcome are to you the best we haue.

Now let vs in, that you may be dispatcht; I think our councell is already set.

Exeunt omnes.

[CHORUS.]

ANDREA. Come we for this from depth of vnder ground,-- To see him feast that gaue me my deaths wound?

These pleasant sights are sorrow to my soule: nothing but league and loue and banqueting!

REUENGE. Be still, Andrea; ere we go from hence, Ile turne their freends.h.i.+p into fell despight, Their loue to mortall hate, their day to night, Their hope into dispaire, their peace in warre, Their ioyes to paine, their blisse to miserie.

ACTUS SECUNDUS.

[ACT II. SCENE 1.]

[The DUKE's castle.]

Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.

LORENZO. My lord, though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy, Let reason holde you in your wonted ioy: In time the sauage bull sustaines the yoake, In time all haggard hawkes will stoope to lure, In time small wedges cleaue the hardest oake, In time the [hardest] flint is pearst with softest shower; And she in time will fall from her disdaine, And rue the sufferance of your freendly paine.

BAL. No; she is wilder, and more hard withall, Then beast or bird, or tree or stony wall!

But wherefore blot I Bel-imperias name?

It is my fault, not she that merits blame.

My feature is not to content her sight; My wordes are rude and worke her no delight; The lines I send her are but harsh and ill, Such as doe drop from Pan and Marsias quill; My presents are not of sufficient cost; And, being worthles, all my labours lost.

Yet might she loue me for my valiancie.

I; but thats slandred by captiuitie.