His valiant active arms, his manly breast, O mother, thou to murder thus thy child! Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed, And with thy mistress' sleeve tied on thy helm, Arost. Madam, alas, in vain these plaints are shed. Marc. What wight is that which saw that I did see, But let us go, for I am griev'd anew, To call to mind the wretched father's woe. [Exeunt. Chorus of aged men. When greedy lust in royal seat to reign Hath reft all care of gods and eke of men; When blood thus shed doth stain this heaven's face, Crying to Jove for vengeance of the deed, The The mighty God even moveth from his place Blood asketh blood, and death must death requit: This times before record and times to come O happy wight that suffers not the snare 5 The style of this old play is stiff and cumbersome, like the dresses of its times. There may be flesh and blood underneath, but we cannot get at it. Sir Philip Sidney has praised it for its morality. One of its authors might easily furnish that. Norton was an associate to Hopkins, Sternhold, and Robert Wisdom, in the Singing Psalms. I am willing to believe that Lord Buckhurst supplied the more vital parts. The chief beauty in the extract is of a secret nature. Marcella obscurely intimates that the murdered prince Porrex and she had been lovers. THE SPANISH TRAGEDY: OR HIERONIMO IS MAD AGAIN. A TRAGEDY BY THOMAS KYD. Horatio the son of Hieronimo is murdered while he is sitting with his mistress Belimperia by night in an arbour in his father's garden. The murderers (Balthazar his rival, and Lorenzo the brother of Betimperia) hang his body on a tree. Hieronimo is awakened by the cries of Belimperia, and coming out into his garden, discovers by the light of a torch, that the murdered man is his son. Upon this he goes distracted. HIERONIMO mad. Hier. My son! and what's a son? A thing begot within a pair of minutes, there about: To balance those light creatures we call women; To make a father doat, rave or run mad? He must be fed, be taught to go, and speak. Ay, or yet? why might not a man love a calf as well? Or a fine little smooth horse colt, Should move a man as much as doth a son; Will grow to some good use; whereas a son Oh, `Oh, but my Horatio grew out of reach of those None but a damned murderer could hate him. He had not seen the back of nineteen years, When his strong arm unhors'd the proud prince Bal thazar And his great mind, too full of honour, took To mercy that valiant but ignoble Portuguese. And there is Nemesis, and furies, And things call'd whips, And they sometimes do meet with murderers: They do not always 'scape, that's some comfort. Ay, ay, ay, and then time steals on, and steals, and steals, Till violence leaps forth, like thunder Wrapt in a ball of fire, And so doth bring confusion to them all. JAQUES and PEDRO, servants. Jaq. I wonder, Pedro, why our master thus And, now his aged years should sleep in rest, [Exit. HIERONIM HIERONIMO enters. Hier. I pry thro' every crevice of each wall, How now, who's there, sprights, sprights? Ped. We are your servants that attend you, sir. Was I so mad to bid you light your torches now? Ped. Then we burn day light. Hier. Let it be burnt; night is a murd'rous slut, That would not have her treasons to be seen: And yonder pale fac'd Hecate there, the moon, Doth give consent to that is done in darkness. And all those stars that gaze upon her face, Are aglets on her sleeve, pins on her train: And those that should be powerful and divine, Do sleep in darkness when they most should shine. Ped. Provoke them not, fair sir, with tempting words, The heavens are gracious; and your miseries And sorrow make you speak you know not what. Hier. Villain thou lyest, and thou doest nought But tell me I am mad: thou lyest, I am not mad: I know thee to be Pedro, and he Jaques. I'll prove it to thee; and were I mad, how could I? Where was she the same night, when my Horatio was murder'd? She should have shone: search thou the book: Had the moon shone in my boy's face, there was a kind of grace, That I know, nay I do know had the murd❜rer seen him, 6 Tags of points. |