Five Revenge Tragedies: The Spanish Tragedy, Hamlet, Antonio's Revenge, The Tragedy of Hoffman, The Revenger's Tragedy (Penguin Classics)
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Che le Ieron!
Enter Page.
100 Page. My Lord?
Lorenzo. Go, sirrah, to Serberine, and bid him forthwith,
Meet the prince and me at St Luigi’s park
Behind the house this evening, boy.
Page. I go, my lord.
Lorenzo. But, sirrah, let the hour be eight o’clock.
Bid him not fail.
Page. I fly my lord. Exit.
Lorenzo. Now to confirm the complot thou hast cast
Of all these practices, I’ll spread the watch,
110 Upon precise commandment from the king,
Strongly to guard the place where Pedringano
This night shall murder hapless Serberine.
Thus must we work that will avoid distrust,
Thus must we practise to prevent mishap,
And thus one ill another must expulse.
This sly inquiry of Hieronimo for Bel-imperia breeds suspicion,
And this suspicion bodes a further ill.
As for myself, I know my secret fault;
And so do they, but I have dealt for them.
120 They that for coin their souls endangered
To save my life, for coin shall venture theirs:
And better it’s that base companions die,
Than by their life to hazard our good haps.
Nor shall they live for me, to fear their faith:
I’ll trust myself, myself shall be my friend,
For die they shall, slaves are ordained to no other end.
Exit.
[Act 3
Scene 3]
Enter Pedringano with a pistol.
Pedringano. Now Pedringano, bid thy pistol hold,
And hold on, Fortune: once more favour me,
Give but success to mine attempting spirit,
And let me shift for taking of mine aim.
Here is the gold, this is the gold proposed,
It is no dream that I adventure for,
But Pedringano is possessed thereof.
And he that would not strain his conscience,
For him that thus his liberal purse hath stretched,
10 Unworthy such a favour may he fail,
And wishing, want when such as I prevail.
As for the fear of apprehension,
I know, if need should be, my noble lord
Will stand between me and ensuing harms.
Besides, this place is free from all suspect:
Here therefore will I stay and take my stand.
Enter the Watch.
1 [Watch]. I wonder much to what intent it is,
That we are thus expressly charged to watch?
2 [Watch]. ’Tis by commandment in the king’s own name.
20 3 [Watch]. But we were never wont to watch and ward,
So near the duke his brother’s house before.
2 [Watch]. Content yourself, stand close, there’s somewhat in’t.
Enter Serberine.
Serberine. Here, Serberine, attend and stay thy pace,
For here did Don Lorenzo’s page appoint,
That thou by his command shouldst meet with him.
How fit a place, if one were so disposed,
Methinks this corner is, to close with one.
Pedringano. Here comes the bird that I must seize upon,
Now, Pedringano, or never play the man.
30 Serberine. I wonder that his lordship stays so long
Or wherefore should he send for me so late?
Pedringano. For this, Serberine, and thou shalt ha’t.
Shoots the dag.
So there he lies, my promise is performed.
The Watch.
1 [Watch]. Hark gentlemen, this is a pistol shot.
2 [Watch]. And here’s one slain: stay the murderer.
Pedringano. Now by the sorrows of the souls in hell.
He strives with the Watch.
Who first lays hands on me, I’ll be his priest.
3 [Watch]. Sirrah confess, and therein play the priest,
Why hast thou thus unkindly killed the man?
40 Pedringano. Why, because he walked abroad so late.
3 [Watch]. Come sir, you had been better kept your bed,
Than have committed this misdeed so late.
2 [Watch]. Come, to the marshal’s with the murderer.
1 [Watch]. On to Hieronimo, help me here,
To bring the murdered body with us too.
Pedringano. Hieronimo – carry me before whom you will.
Whate’er he be I’ll answer him and you,
And do your worst, for I defy you all. Exeunt.
[Act 3
Scene 4]
Enter Lorenzo and Balthazar.
Balthazar. How now, my lord, what makes you rise so soon?
Lorenzo. Fear of preventing our mishaps too late.
Balthazar. What mischief is it that we not mistrust?
Lorenzo. Our greatest ills we least mistrust, my lord,
And inexpected harms do hurt us most.
Balthazar. Why tell me, Don Lorenzo, tell me, man,
If aught concerns our honour and your own?
Lorenzo. Not you nor me, my lord, but both in one,
For I suspect, and the presumption’s great,
10 That by those base confederates in our fault,
Touching the death of Don Horatio,
We are betrayed to old Hieronimo.
Balthazar. Betrayed, Lorenzo? tush, it cannot be.
Lorenzo. A guilty conscience urged with the thought
Of former evils, easily cannot err:
I am persuaded, and dissuade me not,
That all’s revealed to Hieronimo.
And therefore know that I have cast it thus:
But here’s the page. How now, what news with thee?
20 Page. My lord, Serberine is slain.
Balthazar. Who? Serberine, my man?
Page. Your highness’ man, my lord.
Lorenzo. Speak page, who murdered him?
Page. He that is apprehended for the fact.
Lorenzo. Who?
Page. Pedringano.
Balthazar. Is Serberine slain that loved his lord so well?
Injurious villain, murderer of his friend.
Lorenzo. Hath Pedringano murdered Serberine?
30 My lord, let me entreat you to take the pains
To exasperate and hasten his revenge,
With your complaints unto my lord the king.
This their dissension breeds a greater doubt.
Balthazar. Assure thee, Don Lorenzo, he shall die.
Or else his highness hardly shall deny.
Meanwhile, I’ll haste the marshal sessions,
For die he shall for this his damned deed. Exit Balthazar.
Lorenzo. Why so, this fits our former policy,
And thus experience bids the wise to deal.
40 I lay the plot, he prosecutes the point,
I set the trap, he breaks the worthless twigs,
And sees not that wherewith the bird was limed.
Thus hopeful men that mean to hold their own,
Must look like fowlers to their dearest friends.
He runs to kill whom I have holp to catch,
And no man knows it was my reaching fatch.
’Tis hard to trust unto a multitude,
Or anyone in my opinion,
When men themselves their secrets will reveal.
Enter a messenger with a letter.
50 Boy?
Page. My lord.
Lorenzo. What’s he?
Messenger. I have a letter to your lordship.
Lorenzo. From whence?
Messenger. From Pedringano that’s imprisoned.
Lorenzo. So he is in prison then?
Messenger. Ay, my good lord.
Lorenzo. What would he with us?
He writes us here to stand good lord and help him in distress.
60 Tell him I have his letters, know hi
s mind,
And what we may, let him assure him of.
Fellow, begone: my boy shall follow thee.
Exit Messenger.
This works like wax, yet once more try thy wits.
Boy, go convey this purse to Pedringano.
Thou knowest the prison, closely give it him:
And be advised that none be there about.
Bid him be merry still, but secret;
And though the marshal sessions be today,
Bid him not doubt of his delivery.
70 Tell him his pardon is already signed,
And thereon bid him boldly to be resolved:
For were he ready to be turned off,
(As ’tis my will the uttermost be tried)
Thou with his pardon shall attend him still,
Show him this box, tell him his pardon’s in’t:
But let him wisely keep his hopes unknown,
He shall not want while Don Lorenzo lives: away.
Page. I go my lord, I run.
Lorenzo. But sirrah, see that this be cleanly done.
Exit Page.
80 Now stands our fortune on a tickle point,
And now or never ends Lorenzo’s doubts.
One only thing is uneffected yet,
And that’s to see the executioner.
But to what end? I list not trust the air
With utterance of our pretence therein,
For fear the privy whispering of the wind
Convey our words amongst unfriendly ears,
That lie too open to advantages.
Et quel que voglio io, nessun lo sa,
90 Intendo io: quel mi bastera. Exit.
[Act 3
Scene 5]
Enter Boy with the box.
10 Page. My master hath forbidden me to look in this box, and by my troth ’tis likely, if he had not warned me, I should not have had so much idle time: for we men-kind in our minority are like women in their uncertainty, that they are most forbidden, they will soonest attempt: so I now. By my bare honesty here’s nothing but the bare empty box: were it not sin against secrecy, I would say it were a piece of gentlemanlike knavery. I must go to Pedringano and tell him his pardon is in this box – nay, I would have sworn it, had I not seen the contrary. I cannot choose but smile to think, how the villain will flout the gallows, scorn the audience, and descant on the hangman, and all presuming of his pardon from hence. Will’t not be an odd jest, for me to stand and grace every jest he makes, pointing my finger at this box: as who would say, mock on, here’s thy warrant? Is’t not a scurvy jest, that a man should jest himself to death? Alas poor Pedringano, I am in a sort sorry for thee, but if I should be hanged with thee, I cannot weep. Exit.
[Act 3
Scene 6]
Enter Hieronimo and the Deputy.
Hieronimo. Thus must we toil in other men’s extremes,
That know not how to remedy our own,
And do them justice, when unjustly we,
For all our wrongs, can compass no redress.
But shall I never live to see the day
That I may come, by justice of the heavens,
To know the cause that may my cares allay?
This toils my body, this consumeth age,
That only I to all men just must be,
10 And neither gods nor men be just to me.
Deputy. Worthy Hieronimo, your office asks
A care to punish such as do transgress.
Hieronimo. So is’t my duty to regard his death,
Who when he lived deserved my dearest blood:
But come: for that we came for, let’s begin.
For here lies that which bids me to be gone.
Enter Officers, Boy and Pedringano, with a letter in his hand, bound.
Deputy. Bring forth the prisoner for the court is set.
Pedringano. Gramercy, boy, but it was time to come,
For I had written to my lord anew,
20 A nearer matter that concerneth him,
For fear his lordship had forgotten me.
But sith he hath remembered me so well,
Come, come, come on, when shall we to this gear?
Hieronimo. Stand forth, thou monster, murderer of men,
And here for satisfaction of the world,
Confess thy folly and repent thy fault,
For there’s thy place of execution.
Pedringano. This is short work, well to your marshalship.
First I confess, nor fear I death therefore,
30 I am the man, ’twas I slew Serberine.
But sir, then you think this shall be the place,
Where we shall satisfy you for this gear?
Deputy. Ay, Pedringano.
Pedringano. Now I think not so.
Hieronimo. Peace, impudent, for thou shalt find it so.
For blood with blood shall, while I sit as judge,
Be satisfied, and the law discharged.
And though myself cannot receive the like,
Yet will I see that others have their right.
40 Dispatch, the fault’s approved and confessed,
And by our law he is condemned to die.
Hangman. Come on sir, are you ready?
Pedringano. To do what, my fine officious knave?
Hangman. To go to this gear.
Pedringano. O sir, you are too forward, thou wouldst fain furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit. So I should go out of this gear my raiment, into that gear the rope. But hangman, now I spy your knavery, I’ll not change without boot, that’s flat.
50 Hangman. Come sir.
Pedringano. So then I must up.
Hangman. No remedy.
Pedringano. Yes, but there shall be for my coming down.
Hangman. Indeed, here’s a remedy for that.
Pedringano. How? be turned off?
Hangman. Ay truly: come are you ready?
I pray sir, dispatch, the day goes away.
Pedringano. What do you hang by the hour. If you do, I may chance to break your old custom.
60 Hangman. Faith you have reason, for I am like to break your young neck.
Pedringano. Dost thou mock me hangman? pray God I be not preserved to break your knave’s pate for this.
Hangman. Alas sir, you are a foot too low to reach it, and I hope you will never grow so high while I am in the office.
Pedringano. Sirrah, dost see yonder boy with the box in his hand?
Hangman. What, he that points to it with his finger?
Pedringano. Ay, that companion.
70 Hangman. I know him not, but what of him?
Pedringano. Doest thou think to live till his old doublet will make thee a new truss?
Hangman. Ay, and many a fair year after, to truss up many an honester man than either thou or he.
Pedringano. What hath he in his box as thou think’st?
Hangman. ’Faith, I cannot tell, nor I care not greatly. Methinks you should rather harken to your soul’s health.
Pedringano. Why, sirrah hangman? I take it, that that is good for the body, is likewise good for the soul: and it may be in
80 that box is balm for both.
Hangman. Well, thou art even the merriest piece of man’s flesh that e’er groaned at my office door.
Pedringano. Is your roguery become an office with a knave’s name?
Hangman. Ay, and that shall all they witness that see you seal it with a thief’s name.
Pedringano. I prithee request this good company to pray with me.
Hangman. Ay marry sir, this is a good motion: my masters, you see here’s a good fellow.
90 Pedringano. Nay, nay, now I remember me, let them alone till some other time, for now I have no great need.
Hieronimo. I have not seen a wretch so impudent.
O monstrous times where murder’s set so light,
And where the soul that should be shrined in heaven,
Solely delights in interdicted things,
> Still wandering in the thorny passages,
That intercepts itself of happiness.
Murder, O bloody monster, God forbid
A fault so foul should ’scape unpunished.
100 Dispatch and see this execution done,
This makes me to remember thee, my son.
Exit Hieronimo.
Pedringano. Nay soft, no haste.
Deputy. Why, wherefore stay you, have you hope of life?
Pedringano. Why, ay.
Hangman. As how?
Pedringano. Why rascal, by my pardon from the king.
Hangman. Stand you on that, then you shall off with this.
He turns him off.
Deputy. So executioner, convey him hence.
But let his body lie unburied.
110 Let not the earth be choked or infect
With that which heavens condemns and men neglect.
Exeunt.
[Act 3
Scene 7]
Enter Hieronimo.
Hieronimo. Where shall I run to breathe abroad my woes,
My woes, whose weight hath wearied the earth?
Or mine exclaims that have surcharged the air,
With ceaseless plaints for my deceased son?
The blustering winds conspiring with my words,
At my lament have moved the leafless trees,
Disrobed the meadows of their flowered green,
Made mountains marsh with spring tides of my tears,
And broken through the brazen gates of hell.
10 Yet still tormented is my tortured soul,
With broken sighs and restless passions,
That winged mount, and hovering in the air,
Beat at the windows of the brightest heavens,
Soliciting for justice and revenge:
But they are placed in those empyreal heights,
Where countermured with walls of diamond,
I find the place impregnable, and they
Resist my woes, and give my words no way.
Enter Hangman with a letter.
Hangman. O lord sir, God bless you sir, the man Sir Petergade.
20 Sir, he that was so full of merry conceits.
Hieronimo. Well, what of him?
Hangman. O lord sir, he went the wrong way, the fellow had a fair commission to the contrary. Sir, here is his passport, I pray you sir, we have done him wrong.
Hieronimo. I warrant thee, give it me.
Hangman. You will stand between the gallows and me?
Hieronimo. Ay, ay.
Hangman. I thank your lord worship.
Exit Hangman.
Hieronimo. And yet though somewhat nearer me concerns,