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PART THE FIRST.
From Heywood's “ Apology for Actors,” it appears, that Thomas Kyd was the author of the “ Spanish Tragedy, or Hieronimo is Mad again.” But whether he likewise wrote this “ First Part of Jeroniino" does not appear.
This “ First Part of Jeronimo" is so scarce, that many have doubted whether it ever existed ; and A1r Coreter and the author of the “ Playhouse Dictionary" were of opinion, that what is called the
Spanish Tragedy, or Hieronimo is Mad aguin," was only the old play altered and new named.Ben Jonson has a passage in the induction to “ Cynthia's Revels," 1600, that seems to favour that opinion : “ Another swears down all that sil about him, that the old Hieronimo, as it was first acted, was the only best and judiciously pen'd play of Europe."
They were, however, two distinct plays, as appears from this copy of the First Part, which is printed from one in the vuluable collection of David Garrick, Esq.
From another passuge in the induction to“ Cynthia's Revels," acted in 1600, it may be conjectured, that “ Jeronimo" first appeared on the stage about the year 1588. “ They say (says one of the children of the Queen's Chupel) the ghosts of some three or four plays, departed a dozen years since, have been seen walking on your stage here."
Sound a Signet,' and pass over the Slage. Enter | Marshal of Spain, by all the dues
at one door the King of Spain, Duke of Castile, and customary rights unto thy office. Duke Medina, Lorenzo, and ROGERO; at ano- Jer. My knee sings thanks unto your highness' ther door, ANDREA, Horatio, and JERONIMO. bounty:JERONIMO kneels down, and the King creates Come hither, boy Horatio; fold thy joints ; him Marshall of Spain ; Lorenzo puts on his Kneel by thy father's loins, and thank my leege, Spurs, and Andrea his Sword. The King goes By honouring me, thy mother, and thyself, along with JERONIMO to his House; after a long With this high staff of office. Signet is sounded, enter all the Nobles, with co- Hor. O, my leege, vered dishes, to the Banquet.
I have a heart thrice stronger than my years, Exeunt omnes. That done, enter all again And that shall answer gratefully for me. as before.
Let not my youthful blush impare my
If ever you have foes, or red tield scars, Spain. Frolick, Jeronimo! thou art now con- I'll empty all my veins to serve your wars; firmed
I'll bleed for you; and more, what speech affords,
Sound a signet- This word, which is variously spelt, as senet, cynet, sennet, sinet, signate, synnet, signet, &c. I believe to be no more than a corruption of smata, Ital. See a note on Julius Cæsar, Vol. Vili. p. 9. and another on King Henry VIII. Vol. VII. p. 236. S. Lorenco puts on his spurs.
This ceremony is still retained in the creation of a Knight of the Bath, and is generally performed by some person of eminence. See Ansti's Historicul Essay upon the Knighthood of the Bath, 410, 1725. Lord Herbert of Cberbury's Life, p. 54,
I'll speak in drops when I do fail in words. Med. Only, with pardon, mighty sovereignJer. Well spoke, my boy; and on thy father's Cast. I should have chose Don Lorenzo. side.
Med. I, Don Rogero.
I am war's champion, and my fees are swords. Spain. Ay, and no doubt his merit will pur- Pray, king, pray, peers, let it be Don Andrea; chase more.
He's a worthy limb, Knight Marshal rise, and still rise
Loves wars and soldiers, therefore I love him. Higher and greater in thy sovereign's eyes. Jer. And I love him and thee, valiant Rogero. Jer. O, fortunate hour! blessed minute! hap- Noble spirits, gallant bloods;
You are no wise, insinuating lords, Able to ravish even my sense away!
You ha' no tricks, you ha' none of all their sleights.
of Jubily, I'll wake the court, or startle out some blood. The
merry year, the peaceful year, jocond year, Spain. How stand you, lords, to this election? A year of joy, of pleasure, and delight;
Omnes. Right pleasing, our dread sovereign, This shall be my year of Jubily, for 'tis my fifty. Spain. Then, Don Andrea,Age ushers honour; 'tis no shame; confess, And. My approved leege, Beard, thou art fifty full, not a hair less.
Spain. We make thee our lord high embassador, Enter an Embassador.
And. Your bighness circles me with honour's
bounds; Spain. How now? what news from Spain? tri- I still discharge the weight of your command bute returned?
With best respect: if friendly tempered phrase Emb. Tribute in words, my leege, but not in Cannot affect the virtue of your charge, coin.
I will be hard like thunder, and as rough Spain. Ha! dare he still procrastinate with As northern tempests, or the vexed bowels Spain?
Of too insulting waves, who at one blow Not tribute paid ! not three years paid ! Five merchants' wealths into the deep doth throw. 'Tis not at his coin,
I'll threaten crimson wars. But his slack homage, that we most repine. Rog. Aye, aye, that's good;
Jer. My leege, if my opinion might stand frm Let them keep coin, pay tribute with their blood. Within your highness' thoughts-
Spain. Farewell then, Don Andrea; to thy charge. Spain. Marshal, our kingdom calls thee father; Lords, let us in; joy shall be now our guest : Therefore speak free.
Let's in to celebrate our second feast. Thy counsel I'll embrace, as I do thee.
[Ereunt omnes, præter LORENTO. Jer. I thank your highness. Then, my gracious Lor. Andrea's gone embassador; leege,
Lorenzo is not dreamt on in this age.
Ambition's plumes, that fourished in our court,
My purest thoughts work in a pitchy vale, Well-tuned melody, and all sweet gifts
Which are as different as heaven and hell. Of nature, cannot avail or win him to it, One peers for day, the other gapes for night. Then let him raise his gall up to his tongue, That yawning beldam, with her jetty skin, And be as bitter as physicians' drugs,
'Tis she I hug a3 mine effeminate bride, Stretch his mouth wider with big swoln phrases. For such complexions best appease my pride. Oh, here's a lad of mettle, stout Don Andrea, I have a lad in pickle of this stamp, Mettle to the crown,
A melancholy, discontented courtier, Would shake the king's high court three handfuls whose famished jaws look like the chap of death; down.
Upon whose eye-brows hang damnation; Spain. And well picked out, Knight Marshal; whose hands are washed in rape and murders
speech well strung; I'd rather chuse Horatio, were he not so young. Him with a golden bait will I allure, Hor. I humbly thank your bighness,
(For courtiers will do any thing for gold,) On placing me next unto his royal bosom. To be Andrea's death at his return.
Spain. How stand ye, lords, to this election? Ile loves my sister, that shall cost his life;
O sweet, sweet policy, I hug thee! good; Bel. But will you, indeed, Andrea?
Bel. By this lip-blushing kiss.
Hor. O you swear sweetly. Enter Horatio at one door, ANDREA at
Bel. I'll keep your oath for you till you return, another.
Then I'll be sure you shall not be forsworn. Hor. Whither in such haste, my second self?
Enter PEDRINGANO. And. I'faith, my dear bosom, to take solemn leave
And. Ho, Pedringano! Of a most weeping creature.
Ped. Signioro. Hor. That's a woman.
And. Are all things aboard?
Ped. They are, my good lord.
And. Then, Bellimperia, I take leave; Horatio And. That's Bellimperia.
Be, in my absence, my dear self, chaste self.Hor. See, see, she meets you here :
What! playing the woman, Bellimperia? And what is it to love, and be loved dear! Nay, then, you love me not; or, at the least,
Bel. I have heard of your honour, gentle breast, You drown my honours in those Howing waters. I do not like it now so well methinks.
Believe it, Bellimperia, 'tis as common And. What! not to have honour bestowed on To weep at parting, as to be a woman. me?
Love me more valiant; play not this moist prize; Bel. O, yes; but not a wandering honour, dear; Be woman in all parts save iu thy eyes. I could afford well didst thou stay here.
And so I leave thee. Could honour melt itself into thy veins,
Bel. Farewell, my lord : And thou the fountain, I could wish it so, Be mindful of my love, and of your word. If thou would'st remairi here with me, and not go. And. 'Tis fixed upon my heart; adieu, souls And. 'Tis but to Portugal.
friend ! Hor. But to demand the tribute, lady.
Hor. All honour on Andrea's steps attend. Bel. Tribute ! alas, that Spain cannot of peace Bel. Yet he is in sight, and yet but now he's Forbear a little coin, the Indies being so near.
(Erit AndreA, And yet this is not all: I know you are too hot, Hor. Nay, lady, if you stoop so much to passion, Too full of spleen for an embassador,
I'll call him back again. And will lean much to honour.
Bel. O, good Horatio, no; it is for honour, And. Push!
Prythee let him go. Bel. Nay, hear me, dear! I know you will be Hor. Then, madam, be composed, as you were rough
wont, And violent; and Portingal hath a tempestuous son, To music and delight; the time being comic, will Stampt with the mark of fury, and you too. Seem short and pleasant, till his retura And. Sweet Bellimperia!
From Portingal : Bel. You'll meet like thunder, each imperious And, madam, in this circle let your heart move; Over other's spleen; you have both proud spirits, Honoured promotion is the sap of love. And both will strive to aspire,
[Ereunt. When two vexed clouds justle, they strike out fire: And you, I fear me, war, which peace forefend.
Enter Lorenzo and LAZAROTTO, a discontented
Courtier. dear Andrea, pray, let us have no wars ! First let them pay the soldiers that were maimed Lor. Come, my soul's spaniel, my life's jetty In the last battle, ere more wretches fall,
substance, Or walk on stilts to timeless funeral.
What's thy name? And. Respective dear! O, my life's happiness! Laz. My name's an honest name, a courtier's The joy of all my being ! do not shape Frightful conceit beyond the intent of act! 'Tis Lazarotto. I know thy love is vigilant o'er my blood,
Lor. What, Lazarotto! And fears ill fate which heaven hath yet withstood. Laz. Qr rather rotting in this lazy age But be of comfort; sweet Horatio knows That yields me no employments: I have mise I go to knit friends, not to kindle foes.
chief Hor. True, madam Bellimperia, that's his task: Within my breast, more than my 3 bulk can hold: The phrase he useth must be gently styled, I want a midwife to deliver it. The king hath warned him to be smooth and inild. Lor. I'll be the he-one then, and rid thee soon
3 Bulk-One of the significations affixed to this word by Skinner, in his Etymologicon, is "l'enter, hinc Hisp. Buche, Ventriculus animalis, Belg. Bulcke, Thorax." So, in The Nice Valour, by Beaumont and Fletcher, Vol. X. p. 355. edition 1778:
My maintenance, rascals! my bulli, my exhibition!"
Of this dull, leaden, and tormenting elf. Let him not spare an oath without a jewel Thou know'st the love betwixt Bellimperia and To bind it fast: oh, I know women's hearts, Andrea's bosom ?
What stuff they are made of, my lord : gifts and Laz. Aye, I do.
giving Lor. How might I cross it, my sweet mischief? Will melt the chastest seeming female living. Honey damnation ! how?
Lor. Indeed Andrea is but poor, though boLaz. Well:
nourable; As many ways as there are paths to hell, His bounty among soldiers sokes him dry, And that's enow i'faith. From usurers' door, Aud therefore great gifts may bewitch her eye. There goes one path: from friers that nurse Jer. 5 Here's no fine villainy, no damped browhores,
ther! There goes another path : from brokers' stalls, Lor. But say she should deny his gifts, be all From rich that die and build no hospitals, Composed of hate, as my mind gives me that Two other paths : from farmers that crack barns She will : what then? With stuffing corn, yet starve the needy swarms,
Laz. Then thus : at his return Another path : froin drinking schools one, To Spain, I'll murder Don Andrea, From dicing-houses--but from the court, none,
Lor. Dar'st thou, spirit?
Laz. Wbat dares not be do, that ne'er hopes to Lor. Here is a slave just of the stamp I wish;
inherit? Whose ink soul's blacker than his name,
Hor. He dares be damn'd like thee.
I have no hope of everlasting height,
I will make way to Bellimperia's eyes. I'll fetch you duck enough for gold; and chink Lor. To weep I fear, but not to tender lore. Makes the punk wanton and the bawd to wink. Laz. Why, is she not a woman? she must Lor. Discharge, discharge, good Lazarotto, how
weep We may cross my sister's loving hopes.
Awhile, as widows use till their first sleep; Laz. Nay, now I'll tell you.
Who in the morrow following will be sold Lor. Thou knowest Andrea's gone embassador. To new, before the first are throughly cold. Las. The better; there's opportunity : now list Su Bellimperia; for this is common;
The more she weeps, the more she plays the woEnter JERONIMO and HORATIO, and overhear their talk.
Lor. Come then, howe'er it hap, Andrea shall
be crost. Alcario, the Duke Medina's son,
Laz. Let me alone, I'll turn him to a ghost. Dotes on your sister Bellimperia :
[E.reunt LORENZO, and LAZAROT TO, and Him in her private gallery you shall place
Come hither, boy Horatio, didst thou hear them!
* For in love, &c.—The same sentiment is in both Shakespeare, and Beaumont and Fletcher. Two Gentlemen of Verona, A. 3, S. 2 :
“ Win her with gifts, if she respects not words ; Dumb jewels often in their silent kind,
More than quick words, do move a woman's mind."
« Your offers must
Will win an anchorite."
Hor. O my true-breasted father, my ears Welcome, worthy lord, Spain's choice embassador, Have suck'd in poison, deadly poison:
Brave, stout Andrea; for so I guess thee.
Thou seems no less than what thou art, a prince,
My master's love, peace, and affection. It is the greatest argument and sign,
King. And we receive them, and thee, worthy That I begot chee, for it shews thou art mine.
Audrea; Hor. O father, 'tis a charitable deed
Thy master's high-prized love unto our heart, To prevent those that would make virtue bleed! Is welcome to his friend; thou to our court. I'll dispatch letters to Don Andrea;
And. Thanks, Portingal. My lords, I had in Unfold their hellish practice, damn'd intent,
charge, Against the virtuous rivers of his life.
At my depart from Spain, this embassage,
To put your breast in mind of tribute due
Unto our master's kingdom, these three years
Detained and kept back; and I am sent to know, Jer. Peace: who comes here? news, news, Isa- Whether neglect, or will, detains it so. bella,
King. Thus much return unto thy king, Andrea; Isa. What news, Jeroniino?
We have with best advice thought of our state, Jer. Strange news :
And find it much dishonoured by base homage: Lorenzo is become an honest man.
I not deny, but tribute hath been due Isa. Is this your wondrous news?
To Spain by our forefathers' base captivity, Jer. Is it not wondrous
Yet cannot rase out their successors' inerit. To have honesty in hell? go tell it abroad now; 'Tis said, we shall not answer at next birth But see you put no new additions to it,
Our fathers' faults in heaven ; why then on earth? As thus-shall I tell you, gossip; Lorenzo is Which proves and shews, that which they lost Become an honest man :-beware, beware; for ho- By base captivity, nesty,
We may redeem with honoured valiancy. Spoken in derision, points out knavery.
We borrow nought: our kingdom is our own:
Bal. Ay, Spain;
[Exit Isabella. Omnes. And all the peers of Portugal the like. Hor. Murder Andrea! what blood-sucking slave And. Then thus all Spain, which but three miCould choke bright honour in a scabbard grave!
nutes ago Jer. What, harping still upon Andrea's death? Was thy full friend, is now returned thy foe. Have courage, boy : I shall prevent their plots, Bal. An excellent foe; we shall have scuffling And make them both stand like two politic sots.
good. Hor. Lorenzo has a reach as far as hell, And. Thou shalt pay tribute, Portugal, with To hook the devil from his flaming cell :
blood. Oh, sprightly father, he'll out-reach you then; Bal. Tribute for tribute, then; and fues for foes. Knaves longer reaches have than honest men. And. I bid you sudden wars.
Jer. But, boy, fear 'not, I'll out-stretch them all, Bal. I sudden blows, and that's as good as wars. My mind's a giant, though my bulk be small.6 Don, I'll not bate
[Exeunt. An iuch of courage, nor a hair of fate : Enter the King of Portingal, BALTHEzAR, Alex. Pay tribute I with strokes. andro, Don VOLLUPO, and others: a Peal of Alas, that Spain should correct Portugal !
And. Aye, with strokes you shall;
And. Prince Balthezar, shall's meet?
you go meet Bal. Meet, Don Andrea ? yes, in the battle's him,
bowels; And do him all the honour that belongs him. Here is my gage, a never-failing pawn;
Bal. Father, iny best endeavour shall obey you: 1 'Twill keep his day, his hour, nay minute; 'twill.
6 Small.— The first edition reads full.