Thomas Kyd - The Spanish Tragedy ACT 2. SCENE 1. lyrics

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Thomas Kyd - The Spanish Tragedy ACT 2. SCENE 1. lyrics

The DUKE's castle. Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR. LORENZO. My lord, though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy, Let reason holde you in your wonted ioy: In time the sauage bull sustaines the yoake, In time all haggard hawkes will stoope to lure, In time small wedges cleaue the hardest oake, In time the [hardest] flint is pearst with softest shower; And she in time will fall from her disdaine, And rue the sufferance of your freendly paine. BAL. No; she is wilder, and more hard withall, Then beast or bird, or tree or stony wall! But wherefore blot I Bel-imperias name? It is my fault, not she that merits blame. My feature is not to content her sight; My wordes are rude and worke her no delight; The lines I send her are but harsh and ill, Such as doe drop from Pan and Marsias quill; My presents are not of sufficient cost; And, being worthles, all my labours lost. Yet might she loue me for my valiancie. I; but thats slandred by captiuitie. Yet might she loue me to content her sire. I; but her reason masters [her] desire. Yet might she loue me as her brothers freend. I; but her hopes aime at some other end. Yet might she loue me to vpreare her state. I; but perhaps she [loues] some nobler mate. Yet might she loue me as her beauties thrall. I; but I feare she cannot loue at all. LOR. My lord, for my sake leaue these extasies, And doubt not but weele finde some remedie. Some cause there is that lets you not be loued: First that must needs be knowne, and then remoued. What if my sister loue some other knight? BAL. My sommers day will turne to winters night. LOR. I haue already founde a strategeme To sound the bottome of this doubtfull theame. My lord, for once you shall be rulde by me; Hinder me not what ere you heare or see: By force or faire meanes will I cast about To finde the truth of all this question out. Ho, Pedringano! PED. Signior. LOR. Vien qui presto! Enter PEDRINGANO. PED. Hath your lordship any seruice to command me? LOR. I, Pedringano, seruice of import. And, not to spend the time in trifling words, Thus stands the case: it is not long, thou knowst, Since I did shield thee from my fathers wrath For thy conueniance in Andreas love, For which thou wert adiudg'd to punishment; I stood betwixt thee and thy punishment, And since thou knowest how I haue favored thee. Now to these fauours will I adde reward, Not with faire woords, but store of golden coyne And lands and liuing ioynd with dignities, If thou but satisfie my iust demaund; Tell truth and haue me for thy lasting freend. PED. What-ere it be your lordship shall demaund, My bounden duety bids me tell the truth, If case it lye in me to tell the truth. LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demaund; Whome loues my sister Bel-imperia? For she reposeth all her trust in thee. Speak, man, and gaine both freendship and reward: I meane, whome loues she in Andreas place? PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andreas d**h I haue no credit with her as before, And therefore know not if she loue or no. LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe, And feare shall force what frendship cannot winne. Thy d**h shall bury what thy life conceales. Thou dyest for more esteeming her than me! [Draws his sword.] PED. Oh stay, my lord! LOR. Yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee And shield thee from what-euer can ensue, And will conceale what-euer proceeds from thee; But, if thou dally once againe, thou diest! PED. If madame Bel-imperia be in loue— LOR. What, villaine! ifs and ands? PED. Oh stay, my lord! she loues Horatio! BALTHAZAR starts back. LOR. What! Don Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne? PED. Euen him, my lord. LOR. Now say but how knoest thou he is her loue, And thou shalt finde me kinde and liberall. Stand vp, I say, and feareles tell the truth. PED. She sent him letters,—which my-selfe perusde,— Full-fraught with lines and arguments of loue, Perferring him before Prince Balthazar. LOR. Sweare on this crosse that what thou saiest is true, And that thou wilt conseale what thou hast tolde. PED. I sweare to both, by him that made vs all. LOR. In hope thine oath is true, heeres thy reward. But, if I proue thee periurde and vniust, This very sword whereon thou tookst thine oath Shall be the worker of thy tragedie. PED. What I haue saide is true, and shall, for me, Be still conceald from Bel-imperia. Besides, your Honors liberalitie Deserues my duteous seruice euen till d**h. LOR. Let this be all that thou shall doe for me: Be watchfull when and where these louers meete, And giue me notice in some secret sort. PED. I will, my lord. LOR. Then thou shalt finde that I am liberall. Thou knowest that I can more aduance thy state Then she: be therefore wise and faile me not. Goe and attend her as thy custome is, Least absence make her think thou doost amisse. Exit PEDRINGANO. Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio: Where wordes preuaile not, violence preuailes. But golde doth more than either of them both. How likes Prince Balthazar this strategeme? BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad: Glad, that I know the hinderer of my loue; Sad, that I fear she hates me whome I loue; Glad, that I know on whome to be reueng'd; Sad, that sheele flie me if I take reuenge. Yet must I take reuenge or dye my-selfe; For loue resisted growes impatient. I think Horatio be my destind plague: First, in his hand he brandished a sword, And with that sword he fiercely waged warre, And in that warre he gaue me dangerous wounds, And by those wounds he forced me to yeeld, And by my yeelding I became his slaue; Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words, Which pleasing wordes doe harbour sweet conceits, Which sweet conceits are lim'd with slie deceits, Which slie deceits smooth Bel-imperias eares, And through her eares diue downe into her hart, And in her hart set him, where I should stand. Thus hath he tane my body by force, And now by sleight would captiuate my soule; But in his fall Ile tempt the Destinies, And either loose my life or winne my loue. LOR. Lets goe, my lord; [our] staying staies reuenge. Doe but follow me, and gaine your loue; Her fauour must be wonne by his remooue. Exeunt.