The Spanish Tragedy (Hieronimo is Mad Again) · chunk 40 of 41
Kyd, Thomas · published 1592 · first performed or written 1587 [1585-1589; revised c.1597(?) and 1601-2] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 511 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Which now performed, my heart is satisfied. And to this end the Bashaw I became, That might revenge me on Lorenzo's life, Who therefore was appointed to the part, And was to represent the Knight of Rhodes, That I might kill him more conveniently. So Viceroy was this Balthazar thy Son, That Soliman, which Bel-imperia, In person of Perseda murdered: solely appointed to that tragic part, That she might slay him that offended her. Poor Bel-imperia missed her part in this, For though the story saith she should have died, Yet I of kindness, and of care to her, Did otherwise determine of her end. But love of him whom they did hate too much, Did urge her resolution to be such. And Princes now behold Hieronimo, Author and actor in this Tragedy: Bearing his latest fortune in his fist: And will as resolute conclude his part, As any of the Actors gone before. And Gentles, thus I end my play, Urge no more words, I have no more to say. O hearken Viceroy, hold Hieronimo, Brother, my Nephew, and thy Son are slain. We are betrayed, my Balthazar is slain, Break open the doors, run save Hieronimo. Hieronimo, do but inform the King of these events, upon mine honour thou shalt have no harm. Viceroy, I will not trust thee with my life, Which I this day have offered to my Son: Accursed wretch, why stayest thou him that was resolved to die? Speak traitor, damned, bloody murderer speak, For now I have thee I will make thee speak: Why hast thou done this undeserving deed? Why hast thou murdered my Balthazar? Why hast thou butchered both my children thus? O good words, as dear to me was my Horatio, As yours, or yours, or yours my L. to you. My guiltless Son was by Lorenzo slain, And by Lorenzo and that Balthazar, Am I at last revenged thoroughly. Upon whose souls may heavens be yet avenged, With greater far than these afflictions. But who were thy confederates in this? That was thy daughter Bel-imperia. For by her hand my Balthazar was slain I saw her stab him. Why speakest thou not? What lesser liberty can Kings afford Then harmless silence? then afford it me: Sufficeth I may not, nor I will not tell thee. Fetch forth the tortures. Traitor as thou art, i'll make thee tell. Indeed thou mayest torment me as his wretched Son, Hath done in murdering my Horatio. But never shalt thou force me to reveal, The thing which I have vowed inviolate: And therefore in despite of all thy threats, Pleased with their deaths, and eased with their revenge: First take my tongue, and afterwards my heart. O monstrous resolution of a wretch, See Viceroy, he hath bitten forth his tongue, Rather than to reveal what we require. Yet can he write. And if in this he satisfy us not, We will devise th'extremest kind of death, That ever was invented for a wretch. Then he makes signs for a knife to mend his pen.
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)
Which now perform'd, my hart is satisfied. And to this end the Bashaw I became, That might reuenge me on Lorenzos life, Who therefore was appointed to the part, And was to represent the Knight of Rhodes, That I might kill him more conueniently. So Vice-roy was this Balthazar thy Sonne, That Soliman, which Bel-imperia, In person of Perseda murdered: Solie appointed to that tragicke part, That she might sly him that offtended her. Poore Bel-imperia ist her part in this, For though the story saith she should haue died, Yet I of kindenes, and of care to her, Did otherwise determine of her end. But loue of him whom they did hate too much, Did vrge her resolution to be such. And Princes now beholde Hieronimo, Author and actor in this Tragedie: Bearing his latest fortune in his fist: And will as resolute conclude his parte, As any of the Actors gone before. And Gentles, thus I end my play, Vrge no more words, I haue no more to say. O hearken Vice-roy, holde Hieronimo, Brother, my Nephew, and thy Sonne are slaine. We are betraide, my Balthazar is slaine, Breake ope the doores, runne saue Hieronimo. Hieronimo, doe but enforme the King of these euents, Ypon mine honour thou shalt haue no harme. Vice-roy, I will not trust thee with my life, Which I this day haue offered to my Sonne: Accursed wretch, why staiest thou him that was resolued to die? Speak traitor, damned, bloudy murderer speak, For now I haue thee I will make thee speak: Why hast thou done this vndeseruing deed? Why hast thou murdered my Balthazar? Why hast thou butchered both my children thus▪ O good words, as deare to me was my Horatio, As yours, or yours, or yours my L. to you. My guiltles Sonne was by Lorenzo slaine, And by Lorenzo and that Balthazar, Am I at last reuenged thorowly. Vpon whose soules may heauens be yet auenged, With greater far then these afflictions. But who were thy confederates in this? That was thy daughter Bel-imperia. For by her hand my Balhazar was slaine I saw her stab him. Why speakest thou not? What lesser libertie can Kings affoord Then harmeles silence? then affoord it me: Sufficeth I may not, nor I will not tell thee. Fetch forth the tortures. Traitor as thou art, ile make thee tell. Indeed thou maiest torment me as his wretched Sonne, Hath done in murdring my Horatio. But neuer shalt thou force me to reueale, The thing which I haue vowd inuiolate: And therefore in despight of all thy threats, Pleasde with their deaths, and easde with their reuenge: First take my tung, and afterwards my hart. O monstrous resolution of a wretch, See Vice-roy, hee hath bitten foorth his tung, Rather then to reueale what we requirde. Yet can he write. And if in this he satisfie vs not, We will deuise the'xtreamest kinde of death, That euer was inuented for a wretch. Then he makes signes for a knife to mend his pen.