HIERO. Whats heere? "The Humble Supplication
Of Don Bazulto for his Murdered Sonne."
[BAZULTO]. I, sir.
HIERO. No, sir, it was my murdred sonne!
Oh, my sonne, my sonne! oh, my sonne Horatio!
But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content;
Heere, take my hand-kercher and wipe thine eies,
Whiles wretched I in thy mishaps may see
The liuely portraict of my dying selfe.
He draweth out a bloudie napkin.
O, no; not this! Horatio, this was thine!
And when I dyde it in thy deerest blood,
This was a token twixt thy soule and me
That of thy death reuenged I should be.
But heere: take this, and this! what? my purse?
I, this and that and all of them are thine;
For all as one are our extremeties.
I CIT. Oh, see the kindenes of Hieronimo!
II CIT. This gentlenes shewes him a gentleman.
HIERO. See, see, oh, see thy shame, Hieronimo!
See heere a louing father to his sonne:
Beholde the sorrowes and the sad laments
That he deliuereth for his sonnes dicease.
If loues effects so striues in lesser things,
If loue enforce such moodes in meaner wits,
If loue expresse such power in poor estates,
Hieronimo, as when a raging sea,
Tost with the winde and tide, ore-turneth then
The vpper-billowes, course of waues to keep,
Whilest lesser waters labour in the deepe,
Then shamest thou not, Hieronimo, to neglect
The [swift] reuenge of thy Horatio?
Though on this earth iustice will not be found,
Ile downe to hell and in this passion
Knock at the dismall gates of Plutos court,
Getting by force, as once Alcides did,
A troupe of furies and tormenting hagges,
To torture Don Lorenzo and the rest.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99