The Spanish Tragedy (Hieronimo is Mad Again) · chunk 5 of 41
Kyd, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1587 [1585-1589; revised c.1597(?) and 1601-2] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T59 Spanish courts: war, honour and courtshi · 510 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
Then by my judgement thus your strife shall end, You both deserve and both shall have reward. Nephew, thou tookst his weapon and his horse, His weapons and his horse are thy reward. Horatio thou didst force him first to yield, His ransom therefore is thy valour's fee: Appoint the sum as you shall both agree. But Nephew thou shalt have the Prince in guard, For thine estate best fitteth such a guest. Horatio's house were small for all his train, Yet in regard thy substance passeth his, And that just guerdon may befall desert, To him we yield the armour of the Prince. How likes. Don Balthazar of this device? Right well my Liege, if this proviso were, That Don Horatio bear us company, Whom I admire and love for chivalry. Horatio leave him not that loves thee so, Now let us hence to see our soldiers paid, And feast our prisoner as our friendly guest. Is our ambassador dispatched for Spain? Two days (my Liege) are passed since his depart. And tribute payment gone along with him? I my good Lord. Then rest we here a while in our unrest. And feed our sorrows with some inward sighs, For deepest cares break never into tears. But wherefore sit I in a Regal throne, This better fits a wretch's endless moan. Yet this is higher than my fortune's reach, And therefore better than my state deserves. ay, ay, this earth, Image of melancholy, Seeks him whom fates adjudge to misery: Here let me lie, now am I at the lowest. Qvi jacet in terranon habet unde cadat, In me consumpsit vires fortunanocendo, Nil superest vt iam possit obesse magis. Yes, Fortune may bereave me of my Crown: Here take it now, let Fortune do her worst, She will not rob me of this sable weed, O no, she envies none but pleasant things, Such is the folly of despiteful chance: Fortune is blind and sees not my deserts, So is she deaf and hears not my laments: And could she hear, yet is she wilful mad, And therefore will not pity my distress. Suppose that she could pity me, what then? What help can be expected at her hands? Whose foot standing on a rolling stone, And mind more mutable than fickle winds. Why wail I then where's hope of no redress? O yes, complaining makes my grief seem less. My late ambition hath distained my faith, My breach of faith occasioned bloody wars, Those bloody wars have spent my treasure, And with my treasure my people's blood, And with their blood, my joy and best beloved, My best beloved, my sweet and only Son. O wherefore went I not to war myself? The cause was mine I might have died for both: My years were mellow, his but young and green, My death were natural, but his was forced. No doubt my Liege but still the Prince survives. Survives, I where? In Spain, a prisoner by mischance of war. Then they have slain him for his father's fault.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then by my iudgement thus your strife shall end, You both deserue and both shall haue reward. Nephew, thou tookst his weapon and his horse, His weapons and his horse are thy reward. Horatio thou didst force him first to yeeld, His ransome therefore is thy valours fee: Appoint the sum as you shall both agree. But Nephew thou shalt haue the Prince in guard, For thine estate best fitteth such a guest. Horatios house were small for all his traine, Yet in regarde thy substance passeth his, And that iust guerdon may befall desert, To him we yeeld the armour of the Prince. How likes. Don Balthazar of this deuice? Right well my Liege, if this prouizo were, That Don Horatio beare vs company, Whome I admire and loue for chiualrie. Horatio leaue him not that loues thee so, Now let vs hence to see our souldiers paide, And feast our prisoner as our friendly guest. Is our embassadour dispatcht for Spaine? Two daies (my Liege) are past since his depart. And tribute paiment gone along with him? I my good Lord. Then rest we heere a while in our vnrest. And feed our sorrowes with some inward sighes, For deepest cares break neuer into teares. But wherefore sit I in a Regall throne, This better fits a wretches endles moane. Yet this is higher then my fortuues reach, And therefore better then my state deserues. I, I, this earth, Image of mellancholly, Seeks him whome fates adiudge to miserie: Heere let me lye, now am I at the lowest. Qvi iacet in terranon haet vnde cadat, In me consumpsit vires fortunanocendo, Nil superest vt iam possit obesse magis. Yes, Fortune may bereaue me of my Crowne: Heere take it now, let Fortune doe her worst, She will not rob me of this sable weed, O no, she enuies none but pleasant things, Such is the folly of dispightfull chance: Fortune is blinde and sees not my deserts, So is she deafe and heares not my laments: And could she heare, yet is she wilfull mad, And therefore will not pittie my disresse. Suppose that she could pittie me, what then? What helpe can be expected at her hands? Whose foot standing on a rowling stone, And minde more mutable then fickle windes. Why waile I then wheres hope of no redrese? O yes, complaining makes my greefe seeme lesse. My late ambition hath distaind my faith, My breach of faith occasiond bloudie warres, Those bloudie warres haue spent my treasure, And with my treasure my peoples blood, And with their blood, my ioy and best beloued, My best beloued, my sweet and onely Sonne. O wherefore went I not to warre my selfe? The cause was mine I might haue died for both: My yeeres were mellow, his but young and greene, My death were naturall, but his was forced. No doubt my Liege but still the Prince suruiues. Suruiues, I where? In Spaine, a prisoner by mischance of warre. Then they haue laine him for his fathers fault.