Chapter: [A street.]

                Enter two PORTINGALES, and HIERONIMO
                meets them.

  I PORT.  By your leave, sir.

  HIERO.  Good leave have you; nay, I pray you go,
    For I'll leave you, if you can leave me so.

  II PORT.  Pray you, which is the next way to my lord
    the duke's?

  HIERO.  The next way from me.

  I PORT.                       To the house, we mean.

  HIERO. O hard by; 'tis yon house that you see.

  II PORT.  You could not tell us if his son were there?

  HIERO.  Who?  my lord Lorenzo?

  I PORT.                               Aye, sir.

                He goeth in at one door and comes out at another.

  HIERO.                                        Oh, forbear,
    For other talk for us far fitter were!
    But, if you be importunate to know
    The way to him and where to find him out,
    Then list to me, and I'll resolve your doubt:
    There is a path upon your left hand side
    That leadeth from a guilty conscience
    Unto a forest of distrust and fear,--
    A darksome place and dangerous to pass,--
    There shall you meet with melancholy thoughts
    Whose baleful humours if you but behold,
    It will conduct you to despair and death:
    Whose rocky cliffs when you have once beheld,
    Within a hugy dale of lasting night,
    That, kindled with worlds of iniquities,
    Doth cast up filthy and detested fumes,--
    Not far from thence where murderers have built
    A habitation for their cursed souls,
    There, in a brazen caldron fix'd by Jove
    In his fell wrath upon a sulfur flame,
    Yourselves shall find Lorenzo bathing him
    In boiling lead and blood of innocents.

  I PORT.  Ha, ha, ha!

  HIERO.  Ha, ha, ha!  why, ha, ha, ha!  Farewell, good ha,
    ha, ha!

                Exit.

  II PORT.  Doubtless this man is passing lunatic,
    Or imperfection of his age doth make him dote.
    Come, let's away to seek my lord the duke.

                [Exeunt.]
                [The Spanish court.]

                Enter HIERONIMO with a ponyard in one hand,
                and a rope in the other.

  HIERO.  Now, sir, perhaps I come to see the king,
    The king sees me, and fain would hear my suit:
    Why, is this not a strange and seld-seen thing
    That standers-by with toys should strike me mute?
    Go to, I see their shifts, and say no more;
    Hieronimo, 'tis time for thee to trudge!
    Down by the dale that flows with purple gore
    Standeth a fiery tower; there sits a judge
    Upon a seat of steel and molten brass,
    And 'twixt his teeth he holds a fire-brand,
    That leads unto the lake where he doth stand.
    Away, Hieronimo; to him be gone:
    He'll do thee justice for Horatio's death.
    Turn down this path, thou shalt be with him straight;
    Or this, and then thou need'st not take thy breath.
    This way, or that way?  Soft and fair, not so!
    For, if I hang or kill myself, let's know
    Who will revenge Horatio's murther then!
    No, no; fie, no!  pardon me, I'll none of that:

                He flings away the dagger & halter.

    This way I'll take; and this way comes the king,

                He takes them up again.

    And here I'll have a fling at him, that's flat!
    And, Balthazar, I'll be with thee to bring;
    And thee, Lorenzo!  Here's the king; nay, stay!
    And here,--aye, here,--there goes the hare away!

                Enter KING, AMBASSADOR, CASTILLE, and
                LORENZO.

  KING.  Now show, ambassador, what our viceroy saith:
    Hath he receiv'd the articles we sent?

  HIERO.  Justice!  O, justice to Hieronimo!

  LOR.  Back! see'st thou not the king is busy?

  HIERO.  O!  is he so?

  KING.  Who is he that interrupts our business?

  HIERO.  Not I!  [aside] Hieronimo, beware!  go by, go
    by!

  AMBASS.  Renown'd king, he hath receiv'd and read
    Thy kingly proffers and thy promis'd league,
    And, as a man extremely over-joy'd
    To hear his son so princely entertain'd,
    Whose death he had so solemnly bewail'd,
    This, for thy further satisfaction
    And kingly love, he kindly lets thee know:
    First, for the marriage of his princely son
    With Bel-imperia, thy beloved niece,
    The news are more delightful to his soul
    Then myrrh or incense to the offended Heav'ns.
    In person, therefore, will be come himself
    To see the marriage rites solemnized
    And in the presence of the court of Spain
    To knit a sure inextricable band
    Of kingly love and everlasting league
    Betwixt the crowns of Spain and Portingal.
    There will he give his crown to Balthazar,
    And make a queen of Bel-imperia.

  KING.  Brother, how like you this our viceroy's love?

  CAST.  No doubt, my lord, it is an argument
    Of honourable care to keep his friend
    And wondrous zeal to Balthazar, his son.
    Nor am I least indebted to his Grace,
    That bends his liking to my daughter thus.

  AMBASS.  Now last, dread lord, here hath his Highness sent--
    Although he send not that his son return--
    His ransom due to Don Horatio.

  HIERO.  Horatio?  who calls Horatio?

  KING.  And well remember'd, thank his Majesty!
    Here, see it given to Horatio.

  HIERO.  Justice!  O justice!  justice, gentle king!

  KING.  Who is that?  Hieronimo?

  HIERO.  Justice!  O justice!  O my son!  my son!
    My son, whom naught can ransom or redeem!

  LOR.  Hieronimo, you are not well advis'd.

  HIERO.  Away, Lorenzo!  hinder me no more,
    For thou hast made me bankrupt of my bliss!
    Give me my son!  You shall not ransom him!
    Away!  I'll rip the bowels of the earth,

                He diggeth with his dagger.

    And ferry over th' Elysian plains
    And bring my son to show his deadly wounds.
    Stand from about me!  I'll make a pickaxe of my poniard,
    And here surrender up my marshallship;
    For I'll go marshall up the fiends in hell,
    To be avenged on you all for this.

  KING.  What means this outrage?
    Will none of you restrain his fury?

  HIERO.  Nay, soft and fair; you shall not need to strive!
    Needs must he go that the devils drive.

                Exit.

  KING.  What accident hath happ'd to Hieronimo?
    I have not seen him to demean him so.

  LOR.  My gracious lord, he is with extreme pride
    Conceiv'd of young Horatio, his son,
    And covetous of having himself
    The ransom of the young prince, Balthazar,
    Distract, and in a manner lunatic.

  KING.  Believe me, nephew, we are sorry for 't;
    This is the love that fathers bear their sons.
    But, gentle brother, go give to him this gold,
    The prince's ransom; let him have his due;
    For what he hath, Horatio shall not want.
    Haply Hieronimo hath need thereof.

  LOR.  But if he be thus helplessly distract,
    'Tis requisite his office be resign'd
    And giv'n to one of more discretion.

  KING.  We shall increase his melancholy so.
    'Tis best that we see further in it first;
    Till when, ourself will hold exempt the place.
    And, brother, now bring in the ambassador,
    That he may be a witness of the match
    'Twixt Balthazar and Bel-imperia,
    And that we may prefix a certain time
    Wherein the marriage shall be solemniz'd,
    That we may have thy lord the viceroy here.

  AMBASS.  Therein your Highness highly shall content
    His majesty, that longs to hear from hence.

  KING.  On then, and hear you, lord ambassador.

                Exeunt.                [HIERONIMO's house.]

                Enter HIERONIMO with a book in his hand.

  [HIERO.]  Vindicta mihi.
    Aye, heav'n will be reveng'd of every ill,
    Nor will they suffer murder unrepaid!
    Then stay, Hieronimo, attend their will;
    For mortal men may not appoint their time.
    Per scelus semper tutum est sceleribus iter:
    Strike, and strike home, where wrong is offer'd thee;
    For evils unto ills conductors be,
    And death's the worst of resolution.
    For he that thinks with patience to contend
    To quiet life, his life shall easily end.
    Fata si miseros juvant, habes salutem;
    Fata si vitam negant, habes sepulchrum:
    If destiny thy miseries do ease,
    Then hast thou health, and happy shalt thou be;
    If destiny deny thee life, Hieronimo,
    Yet shalt thou be assured of a tomb;
    If neither, yet let this thy comfort be:
    Heav'n covereth him that hath no burial.
    And, to conclude, I will revenge his death!
    But how?  Not as the vulgar wits of men,
    With open, but inevitable ills;
    As by a secret, yet a certain mean,
    Which under kindship will be cloaked best.
    Wise men will take their opportunity,
    Closely and safely fitting things to time;
    But in extremes advantage hath no time;
    And therefore all times fit not for revenge.
    Thus, therefore, will I rest me in unrest,
    Dissembling quiet in unquietness,
    Not seeming that I know their villainies,
    That my simplicity may make them think
    That ignorantly I will let all slip;
    For ignorance, I wot, and well they know,
    Remedium malorum iners est.
    Nor aught avails it me to menace them.
    Who, as a wintry storm upon a plain,
    Will bear me down with their nobility.
    No, no, Hieronimo, thou must enjoin
    Thine eyes to observation, and thy tongue
    To milder speeches than thy spirit affords,
    Thy heart to patience, and thy hands to rest,
    Thy cap to courtesy, and thy knee to bow,
    Till to revenge thou know when, where and how.
    How now?  what noise, what coil is that you keep?

                A noise within.

                Enter a SERVANT.

  SER.  Here are a sort of poor petitioners
    That are importunate, and it shall please you, sir,
    That you should plead their cases to the king.

  HIERO.  That I should plead their several actions?
    Why, let them enter, and let me see them.

                Enter three CITIZENS and an OLD MAN
                [DON BAZULTO].

  I CIT.  So I tell you this: for learning and for law
    There is not any advocate in Spain
    That can prevail or will take half the pain
    That he will in pursuit of equity.

  HIERO.  Come near, you men, that thus importune me!
    [Aside]  Now must I bear a face of gravity,
    For thus I us'd, before my marshallship,
    To plead in causes as corrigedor.--
    Come on, sirs, what's the matter?

  II CIT.               Sir, an action.

  HIERO.  Of battery?

  I CIT.                Mine of debt.

  HIERO.                        Give place.

  II CIT.  No, sir, mine is an action of the case.

  III CIT.  Mine an ejectionae firmae by a lease.

  HIERO.  Content you, sirs; are you determined
    That I should plead your several actions?

  I CIT.  Aye, sir; and here's my declaration.

  II CIT.  And here is my bond.

  III CIT.              And here is my lease.

                They give him papers.

  HIERO. But wherefore stands yon silly man so mute,
    With mournful eyes and hands to heav'n uprear'd?
    Come hither, father; let me know thy cause.

  SENEX, [DON BAZULTO].  O worthy sir, my cause but slightly known
    May move the hearts of warlike Myrmidons,
    And melt the Corsic rocks with ruthful tears!

  HIERO.  Say, father; tell me what's thy suit!

  BAZULTO.  No, sir, could my woes
    Give way unto my most distressful words,
    Then should I not in paper, as you see,
    With ink bewray what blood began in me.

  HIERO. What's here?  "The Humble Supplication
    Of Don Bazulto for his Murder'd Son."

  BAZULTO.  Aye, sir.

  HIERO.        No, sir, it was my murder'd son!
    Oh, my son, my son! oh, my son Horatio!
    But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content;
    Here, take my handkerchief and wipe thine eyes,
    Whiles wretched I in thy mishaps may see
    The lively portrait of my dying self.

                He draweth out a bloody napkin.

    O, no; not this!  Horatio, this was thine!
    And when I dy'd it in thy dearest blood,
    This was a token twixt thy soul and me
    That of thy death revenged I should be.
    But here: take this, and this!  what? my purse?
    Aye, this and that and all of them are thine;
    For all as one are our extremities.

  I CIT.  Oh, see the kindness of Hieronimo!

  II CIT.  This gentleness shows him a gentleman.

  HIERO.  See, see, oh, see thy shame, Hieronimo!
    See here a loving father to his son:
    Behold the sorrows and the sad laments
    That he deliv'reth for his son's decease.
    If love's effect so strives in lesser things,
    If love enforce such moods in meaner wits,
    If love express such power in poor estates,
    Hieronimo, as when a raging sea,
    Toss'd with the wind and tide, o'er-turneth then
    The upper-billows course of waves to keep,
    Whilst lesser waters labour in the deep,
    Then sham'st thou not, Hieronimo, to neglect
    The swift revenge of thy Horatio?
    Though on this earth justice will not be found,
    I'll down to hell and in this passion
    Knock at the dismal gates of Pluto's court,
    Getting by force, as once Alcides did,
    A troupe of furies and tormenting hags,
    To torture Don Lorenzo and the rest.
    Yet, lest the triple-headed porter should
    Deny my passage to the slimy strand,
    The Thracian poet thou shalt counterfeit;
    Come on, old father, be my Orpheus;
    And, if thou canst no notes upon the harp,
    Then sound the burden of thy sore heart's grief
    Till we do gain that Proserpine may grant
    Revenge on them that murdered my son.
    Then will I rent and tear them thus and thus,
    Shiv'ring their limbs in pieces with my teeth!

                Tears the papers.

  I CIT.  Oh, sir, my declaration!

                Exit HIERONIMO and they after.

  II CIT.                       Save my bond!

                Enter HIERONIMO.

  II CIT.  Save my bond!

  III CIT.              Alas my lease, it cost me
    Ten pound, and you, my lord, have torn the same!

  HIERO.  That can not be, I gave it never a wound;
    Show me one drop of blood fall from the same!
    How is it possible I should slay it then?
    Tush, no!  Run after, catch me if you can!

                Exeunt all but DON BAZULTO.

                BAZULTO remains till HIERONIMO enters
                again, who, staring him in the face, speaks:

    And art thou come, Horatio, from the depth,
    To ask for justice in this upper earth?
    To tell thy father thou art unreveng'd?
    To wring more tears from Isabella's eyes,
    Whose lights are dimm'd with over-long laments?
    Go back, my son, complain to Eacus;
    For here's no justice.  Gentle boy, begone;
    For justice is exiled from the earth.
    Hieronimo will bear thee company.
    Thy mother cries on righteous Radamant
    For just revenge against the murderers.

  BAZULTO.  Alas, my lord, whence springs this troubled speech?

  HIERO.  But let me look on my Horatio:
    Sweet boy, how art thou chang'd in death's black shade!
    Had Proserpine no pity on thy youth,
    But suffer'd thy fair crimson-colour'd spring
    With wither'd winter to be blasted thus?
    Horatio, thou are older than thy father:
    Ah, ruthless father, that favour thus transforms.

  BA.  Ah, my good lord, I am not your young son.

  HIE.  What!  not my son? thou then a Fury art
    Sent from the empty kingdom of black night
    To summon me to make appearance
    Before grim Minos and just Radamant,
    To plague Hieronimo, that is remiss
    And seeks not vengeance for Horatio's death.

  BA.  I am a grieved man, and not a ghost,
    That came for justice for my murder'd son.

  HIE.  Aye, now I know thee, now thou namest thy son;
    Thou art the lively image of my grief:
    Within thy face my sorrows I may see;
    The eyes are dimm'd with tears, thy cheeks are wan,
    Thy forehead troubled, and thy mutt'ring lips
    Murmur sad words abruptly broken off
    By force of windy sighs thy spirit breathes;
    And all this sorrow riseth for thy son,
    And self-same sorrow feel I for my son.
    Come in, old man; thou shalt to Isabell.
    Lean on my arm; I thee, thou me, shalt stay;
    And thou and I and she will sing a song,
    Three parts in one, but all of discords fram'd,--
    Talk not of cords!--but let us now be gone,--
    For with a cord Horatio was slain.

                Exeunt.
                [The Spanish court.]

                Enter KING OF SPAIN, the DUKE, VICEROY, and
                LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, DON PEDRO, and BEL-IMPERIA.

  KING.  Go, brother, 'tis the Duke of Castile's cause;
    Salute the viceroy in our name.

  CASTILE.                      I go.

  VICE.  Go forth, Don Pedro, for thy nephew's sake,
    And greet the Duke of Castile.

  PEDRO.                        It shall be so.

  KING.  And now to meet these Portuguese;
    For, as we now are, so sometimes were these,
    Kings and commanders of the western Indies.
    Welcome, brave viceroy, to the court of Spain!
    And welcome, all his honourable train!
    'Tis not unknown to us for why you come,
    Or have so kingly cross'd the seas.
    Sufficeth it, in this we note the troth
    And more than common love you lend to us.
    So is it that mine honourable niece,
    For it beseems us now that it be known,
    Already is betroth'd to Balthazar;
    And, by appointment and our condescent,
    Tomorrow are they to be married.
    To this intent we entertain thyself,
    Thy followers, their pleasure, and our peace.
    Speak, men of Portingal, shall it be so?
    If aye, say so;  if not, say so flatly.

  VICE.  Renowned king, I come not, as thou think'st,
    With doubtful followers, unresolved men,
    But such as have upon thine articles
    Confirm'd thy motion and contented me.
    Know, sovereign, I come to solemnize
    The marriage of thy beloved niece,
    Fair Bel-imperia, with my Balthazar,--
    With thee, my son, whom sith I live to see,
    Here, take my crown, I give it to her and thee,
    And let me live a solitary life,
    In ceaseless prayers,
    To think how strangely heav'n hath thee preserved.

  KING.  See, brother, see, how nature strives in him!
    Come, worthy viceroy, and accompany
    Thy friend, to strive with thine extremities:
    A place more private fits this princely mood.

  VICE.  Or here or where your Highness thinks it good.

                Exeunt all but CASTILE and LORENZO.

  CAS.  Nay, stay, Lorenzo; let me talk with you.
    See'st thou this entertainment of these kings?

  LOR.  I do, my lord, and joy to see the same.

  CAS.  And know'st thou why this meeting is?

  LOR.  For her, my lord, whom Balthazar doth love,
    And to confirm their promis'd marriage.

  CAS.  She is thy sister.

  LOR.                  Who?  Bel-imperia?
    Aye, my gracious lord, and this is the day
    That I have long'd so happily to see.

  CAS.  Thou wouldst be loath that any fault of thine
    Should intercept her in her happiness?

  LOR.  Heav'ns will not let Lorenzo err so much.

  CAS.  Why then, Lorenzo, listen to my words:
    It is suspected, and reported too,
    That thou, Lorenzo, wrong'st Hieronimo,
    And in his suits toward his Majesty
    Still keep'st him back and seek'st to cross his suit.

  LOR.  That I, my lord?

  CAS.  I tell thee, son, myself have heard it said,
    When to my sorrow I have been asham'd
    To answer for thee, though thou art my son.
    Lorenzo, know'st thou not the common love
    And kindness that Hieronimo hath won
    By his deserts within the court of Spain?
    Or see'st thou not the king my brother's care
    In his behalf and to procure his health?
    Lorenzo, should'st thou thwart his passions,
    And he exclaim against thee to the king,
    What honour were't in this assembly,
    Or what a scandal were't among the kings,
    To hear Hieronimo exclaim on thee!
    Tell me,--and look thou tell me truly too,--
    Whence grows the ground of this report in court?

  LOR.  My lord, it lies not in Lorenzo's power
    To stop the vulgar, liberal of their tongues:
    A small advantage makes a water-breach;
    And no man lives that long contenteth all.

  CAS.  Myself have seen thee busy to keep back
    Him and his supplications from the king.

  LOR.  Yourself, my lord, hath seen his passions,
    That ill beseem'd the presence of a king;
    And, for I pitied him in his distress,
    I held him thence with kind and courteous words,
    As free from malice to Hieronimo
    As to my soul, my lord.

  CAS.  Hieronimo, my son, mistakes thee then.

  LOR.  My gracious father, believe me, so he doth;
    But what's a silly man, distract in mind,
    To think upon the murder of his son?
    Alas, how easy is it for him to err!
    But, for his satisfaction and the world's,
    'Twere good, my lord, that Hieronimo and I
    Were reconcil'd, if he misconstrue me.

  CAS.  Lorenzo, that hast said; it shall be so!
    Go, one of you, and call Hieronimo.

                Enter BALTHAZAR and BEL-IMPERIA.

  BAL.  Come, Bel-imperia, Balthazar's content,
    My sorrow's ease, and sovereign of my bliss,--
    Sith heav'n hath ordain'd thee to be mine,
    Disperse those clouds and melancholy looks,
    And clear them up with those thy sun-bright eyes,
    Wherein my hope and heav'n's fair beauty lies!

  BEL.  My looks, my lord, are fitting for my love,
    Which, new begun, can show no brighter yet.

  BAL.  New kindled flames should burn as morning sun.

  BEL.  But not too fast, least heat and all be done.
    I see my lord my father.

  BAL.                  True, my love;
    I will go salute him.

  CAS.                  Welcome, Balthazar,
    Welcome, brave prince, the pledge of Castile's peace!
    And welcome Bel-imperia!  How now, girl?
    Why com'st thou sadly to salute us thus?
    Content thyself, for I am satisfied.
    It is not now as when Andrea liv'd;
    We have forgotten and forgiven that,
    And thou art graced with a happier love.
    But, Balthazar, here comes Hieronimo;
    I'll have a word with him.

                Enter HIERONIMO and a SERVANT.

  HIERO.                        And where's the duke?

  SER.  Yonder.

  HIERO.                Even so.
    [aside]  What new device have they devised, trow?
    Pocas palabras!  Mild as the lamb!
    Is't I will be reveng'd?  No, I am not the man.

  CAS.  Welcome, Hieronimo!

  LOR.  Welcome, Hieronimo!

  BAL.  Welcome, Hieronimo!

  HIERO.  My lords, I thank you for Horatio.

  CAS.  Hieronimo, the reason that I sent
    To speak with you is this--

  HIERO.                        What?  so short?
    Then I'll be gone; I thank you for't!

  CAS.  Nay, stay, Hieronimo; go call him, son.

  LOR.  Hieronimo, my father craves a word with you.

  HIERO.  With me, sir?  Why, my lord, I thought you
    had done.

  LOR.  [aside]  No; would he had!

  CAS.                  Hieronimo, I hear
    You find yourself aggrieved at my son,
    Because you have not access unto the king,
    And say 'tis he that intercepts your suits.

  HIERO.  Why, is not this a miserable thing, my lord?

  CAS.  Hieronimo, I hope you have no cause,
    And would be loath that one of your deserts
    Should once have reason to suspect my son,
    Considering how I think of you myself.

  HIERO.  Your son Lorenzo?  whom, my noble lord?
    The hope of Spain? mine honourable friend?
    Grant me the combat of them, if they dare!

                Draws out his sword.

    I'll meet them face-to-face to tell me so!
    These be the scandalous reports of such
    As love not me, and hate my lord too much.
    Should I suspect Lorenzo would prevent
    Or cross my suit, that lov'd my son so well?
    My lord, I am asham'd it should be said.

  LOR.  Hieronimo, I never gave you cause.

  HIERO.  My good lord, I know you did not.

  CAS.                                          There then pause,
    And, for the satisfaction of the world,
    Hieronimo, frequent my homely house,
    The Duke of Castile Ciprian's ancient seat;
    And when thou wilt, use me, my son, and it.
    But here before Prince Balthazar and me
    Embrace each other, and be perfect friends.

  HIERO.  Aye, marry, my lord, and shall!
    Friends, quoth he?  See, I'll be friends with you all!
    Especially with you, my lovely lord;
    For divers causes it is fit for us
    That we be friends.  The world is suspicious,
    And men may think what we imagine not.

  BAL.  Why this is freely done, Hieronimo.

  LOR.  And I hope old grudges are forgot.

  HIERO.  What else?  it were a shame it should not
    be so!

  CAS.  Come on, Hieronimo, at my request;
    Let us entreat your company today!

                Exeunt.

[CHORUS.]

                Enter GHOST and REVENGE.

  GHOST.  Awake Erictho!  Cerberus, awake!
    Solicit Pluto, gentle Proserpine!
    To combat, Acheron and Erebus in hell!
    For ne'er by Styx and Phlegeton there came,
    Nor ferried Charon to the fiery lakes,
    Such fearful sights, as poor Andrea sees!
    Revenge awake!

  REVENGE.              Awake?  For why?

  GHOST.  Awake, Revenge!  for thou art ill advis'd
    To sleep away what thou art warn'd to watch!

  REVENGE.  Content thyself, and do not trouble me.

  GHOST.  Awake, Revenge, if love, as love hath had,
    Have yet the power of prevalence in hell!
    Hieronimo with Lorenzo is join'd in league,
    And intercepts our passage to revenge.
    Awake, Revenge, or we are woe-begone!

  REVENGE.  Thus worldings ground what they have dream'd upon!
    Content thyself, Andrea; though I sleep,
    Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.
    Sufficeth thee that poor Hieronimo
    Cannot forget his son Horatio.
    Nor dies Revenge although he sleep awhile;
    For in unquiet, quietness is feign'd,
    And slumb'ring is a common worldly wile.
    Behold, Andrea, for an instance how
    Revenge hath slept; and then imagine thou
    What 'tis to be subject to destiny.

                Enter a Dumb-show.

  GHOST.  Awake, Revenge!  reveal this mystery!

  REVENGE.  The two first do the nuptial torches bear,
    As brightly burning as the midday's sun;
    But after them doth Hymen hie as fast,
    Clothed in sable and a saffron robe,
    And blows them out and quencheth them with blood,
    As discontent that things continue so.

  GHOST.  Sufficeth me; thy meanings understood,
    And thanks to thee and those infernal powers
    That will not tolerate a lover's woe.
    Rest thee; for I will sit to see the rest.

  REVENGE.  Then argue not; for thou hast thy request.

                Exeunt.

 Two Portuguese men enter in search of the Duke of Castile. Hieronimo points out the correct house for them, whereupon it becomes clear that the two men are actually looking for Lorenzo. Hieronimo suddenly embarks on a rant about finding "Despair and Death" on the left-hand path, at the end of which the men will find Lorenzo in a hellish scene. The two men leave the scene, deeming Hieronimo either a "passing lunatic" or one who has lost his wits in old age. Act 3, Scene 12 Hieronimo enters with dagger and halter in hand. He contemplates committing suicide, but decides against it - after all, "Who would revenge Horatio's murder then?" He throws away the dagger and halter, then picks them up again before the King arrives. The King and the Portuguese ambassador arrive with the Duke and Lorenzo. Hieronimo cries "Justice, O justice to Hieronimo," but the King does not quite hear him and Lorenzo sends him away. Meanwhile, the ambassador brings good news from Portugal: the Viceroy has consented to the marriage between Balthazar and Bellimperia. He has moreover decided to relinquish the throne to his son, effectively making Bellimperia a queen. As the Spanish King and Duke express their joy, the ambassador mentions that he has also brought Balthazar's ransom. Upon hearing his son's name, Hieronimo once again cries for the King's attention: "Justice, O, justice, justice, gentle king!" Lorenzo attempts to keep him away, but in vain. Hieronimo exclaims wildly, "Give me my son!" and begins to dig with his dagger, announcing his resignation from the position of Marshall. The King demands for Hieronimo to be restrained, but the latter quickly takes his leave. Lorenzo suggests that Hieronimo has gone mad and that his office should be taken away. The King decides to proceed more prudently, and in the meantime sends Hieronimo the ransom due to his son. Act 3, Scene 13 Hieronimo enters with a book in hand and delivers a speech that begins "Vindicta mihi" ! Since heaven revenges every ill, Hieronimo declares, he must serve the will of heaven. He has failed to find official redress for his son's murder, and therefore must revenge Horatio's death with his own devices. To do this he will first dissemble quiet and ignorance, thus buying time until he knows "when, where, and how" to take revenge. A servant brings news of several petitioners who have come to see Hieronimo. Three citizens each voice their complaints and hand in their legal papers. Hieronimo then notices Don Bazulto the senex , who alone stands aside mute. Hieronimo inquires after the senex's suite and in response receives a document titled "The humble supplication Of Don Bazulto for his murder'd son." The title triggers a reaction in Hieronimo: reminded painfully of Horatio's death, he identifies intimately with the old man. Hieronimo takes out his handkerchief for the old man to wipe his eyes, but stops mid-action when he realizes its former owner. Now entirely unsettled, Hieronimo gives the senex his handkerchief as well as his purse. As if he has forgotten his office as Marshall, Hieronimo delivers an ecstatic monologue about paternal love and the necessity for revenge - even if it entails descending into hell. The rhapsody culminates in Hieronimo tearing the petition papers in an uncanny imitation of tearing apart the limbs of his son's murderers. He leaves the scene, followed by the petitioners, then reappears moments later. One of the petitioners cries that his lease worth ten pounds has been torn up, to which Hieronimo responds that he "gave it never a wound." Indeed caught in a strange rapture, he addresses the senex first as his son, then as a Fury who summons him to the underworld. Hieronimo finally sees the senex as "the lively image of grief" and takes him away to see Isabel. Act 3, Scene 14 The Spanish King welcomes the Portuguese Viceroy with the announcement that Balthazar is betrothed to Bellamira. Will Portugal accept the marriage, scheduled to take place the following day? The Viceroy responds positively and gives up his crown on the spot: he would now like to live a solitary and religious life, ever thankful that his son is alive and well. All except the Duke and Lorenzo exit to celebrate. The Duke turns somewhat bashfully to his son and asks about his relationship to the Marshall: "It is suspected, and reported too, / That thou, Lorenzo, wrong'st Hieronimo." Given Hieronimo's importance to the King and the court in general, it would be highly undesirable for the King to hear him speak negatively of Lorenzo. Lorenzo denies any wrongdoing, despite his father's suspicion, and maintains that Hieronimo is "distract in mind" and simply mistaken. The Duke summons Hieronimo to settle the matter. Balthazar and Bellimperia, meanwhile, are engaged in conversation. Just as the lady prudently expresses her newfound love for the prince, her father arrives. The Duke says that he has forgiven her for the affair with Andrea. Hieronimo now appears, and the Duke confronts him gently about the rumors concerning Lorenzo. Hieronimo denies vehemently any wrongdoing on Lorenzo's part, so all parties are happy and reconciled - at least on the surface. Act 3, Scene 15 Revenge has fallen asleep, and the Ghost wakens him in alarm - it appears that Hieronimo has befriended Lorenzo! Revenge assures him that Hieronimo has not forgotten his son and stages a dumb show for his sake. The Ghost does not understand the show. Revenge explains that it represented Hymen, the god of marriage, blowing out the nuptial torches and covering them with blood.

