The Spanish Tragedy (Hieronimo is Mad Again) · chunk 6 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 · 512 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T59: andrea, spain, portugal, tribute, horatio, king, bellimperia, prince, lord, lorenzo.
That were a breach to common law of arms. They reck no laws that meditate revenge. His ransoms worth will stay from foul revenge. No, if he lived the news would soon be here. Nay evil news fly faster still than good. Tell me no more of news, for he is dead. My sovereign pardon the Author of ill news, And I'll bewray the fortune of thy Son. Speak on, I'll guerdon thee whate'er it be, Mine ear is ready to receive ill news, My heart grown hard 'gainst mischiefs battery, Stand up I say and tell thy tale at large, Then hear that truth which these mine eyes have seen. When both the armies were in battle joined, Don Balthazar amidst the thickest troops, To win renown, did wondrous feats of arms: Amongst the rest I saw him hand to hand In single fight with their Lord General. Till Alexandro that here counterfeits, Under the colour of a duteous friend, Discharged his Pistol at the PRINCE's back, As though he would have slain their General. But therewithal Don Balthazar fell down: And when he fell then we began to fly, But had he lived the day had sure been ours. O wicked forgery: O traitorous miscreant. Hold thou thy peace, but now Villuppo say, Where then became the carcase of my Son? I saw them drag it to the Spanish tents. ay, ay, my nightly dreams have told me this: Thou false, unkind, unthankful traitorous beast, Wherein had Balthazar offended thee, That thou shouldst thus betray him to our foes? Wast Spanish gold that bleared so thine eyes, That thou couldst see no part of our deserts? Perchance because thou art Tersera's Lord, Thou hadst some hope to wear this diadem, If first my Son and then myself were slain: But thy ambitious thought shall break thy neck. ay, this was it that made thee spill his blood, But I'll now wear it till thy blood be spilled. Vouchsafe (dread Sovereign to hear me speak. A way with him, his sight is second hell, Keep him till we determine of his death. If Balthazar be dead, he shall not live. Villuppo follow us for thy reward. Thus have I with an envious forged tale, Deceived the King, betrayed mine enemy, And hope for guerdon of my villainy. signor Horatio, this is the place and hour, Wherein I must entreat thee to relate, The circumstance of Don Andrea's death: Who living was my garlands sweetest flower, And in his death hath buried my delights. For love of him and service to yourself, I nill refuse this heavy doleful charge. Yet tears and sighs, I fear will hinder me. When both our Armies were enjoined in fight. Your worthy chevalier amidst the thick'st, For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, Was at the last by young Don Balthazar, Encountered hand to hand: their fight was long, Their hearts were great, their clamours menacing, Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous. But wrathful Nemesis that wicked power, Envying at Andrea's praise and worth,
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)
That were a breach to common law of armes. They recke no lawes that meditate reuenge. His ransomes worth will stay from foule reuenge. No, if he liued the newes would soone be heere. Nay euill newes flie faster still than good. Tell me no more of newes, for he is dead. My soueraign pardon the Author of ill newes, And Ile bewray the fortune of thy Sonne. Speake on, Ile guerdon thee what ere it be, Mine eare is ready to receiue ill newes, My hart growne hard gainst mischiefes battery, Stand vp I say and tell thy tale at large, Then heare that truth which these mine eies haue seene. When both the armies were in battell ioynd, Don Balthazar amidst the thickest troupes, To winne renowne, did wondrous feats of armes: Amongst the rest I saw him hand to hand In single fight with their Lord Generall. Till Alexandro that heere counterfeits, Vnder the colour of a duteous freend, Discharged his Pistoll at the Princes back, As though he would haue slaine their Generall. But therwithall Don Balthazar fell downe: And when he fell then we began to flie, But had he liued the day had sure bene ours. O wicked forgerie: O traiterous miscreant. Holde thou thy peace, but now Villuppo say, Where then became the carkasse of my Sonne? I saw them drag it to the Spanish tents. I, I, my nightly dreames haue tolde me this: Thou false, vnkinde, vnthankfull traiterous beast, Wherein had Balthazar offended thee, That thou shouldst thus betray him to our foes? Wast Spanish golde that bleared so thine eyes, That thou couldst see no part of our deserts? Perchance because thou art Terseraes Lord, Thou hadst some hope to weare this Diadome, If first my Sonne and then my selfe were slaine: But thy ambitious thought shall breake thy neck. I, this was it that made thee spill his bloud, But Ile now weare it till thy bloud be spilt. Vouchsafe (dread Soueraigne to heare me speak. A way with him, his sight is second hell, Keepe him till we determine of his death. If Balthazar be dead, he shall not liue. Villuppo follow vs for thy reward. Thus haue I with an enuious forged tale, Deceiued the King, betraid mine enemy, And hope for guerdon of my villany. Signior Horatio, this is the place and houre, Wherein I must intreat thee to relate, The circumstance of Don Andreas death: Who liuing was my garlands sweetest flower, And in his death hath buried my delights. For loue of him and seruice to your selfe, I nill refuse this heauy dolefull charge. Yet teares and sighes, I feare will hinder me. When both our Armies were enioynd in fight. Your worthie chiualier amidst the thikst, For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, Was at the last by yong Don Balthazar, Encountred hand to hand: their fight was long, Their harts were great, their clamours menacing, Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous. But wrathfull Nemesis that wicked power, Enuying at Andreas praise and worth,