The Spanish Tragedie.
That Spaine may not insult for her successe,
Since English warriours likewise conquered Spaine,
And made them bow their knees to Albion.
Since English warriours likewise conquered Spaine,
And made them bow their knees to Albion.
King. Hieronimo, I drinke to thee for this deuice,
Which hath pleasde both the Embassadour and me:
Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou loue the King!
Takes the cup of Horatio.
My Lord, I feare we sit but ouer long,
Vnlesse our dainties were more delicate:
But welcome are to you the best we haue.
Now let vs in, that you may be dispatcht,
Exeunt omnes.I thinke our Counsell is alreadie set.
Andrea.
Come we for this from depth of vnder ground,
To see him feast, that gaue me my deathes wound?
These pleasant sightes are sorrow to my soule,
Nothing but league, and loue, and banqueting?
Reuenge.
Be still Andrea, ere we go from hence,
Ile turne their friendship into fell despight:
Their loue to mortall hate, their day to night,
Their hope into dispaire, their peace in warre,
Their ioyes to paine, their blisse to miserie.
Which hath pleasde both the Embassadour and me:
Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou loue the King!
Takes the cup of Horatio.
My Lord, I feare we sit but ouer long,
Vnlesse our dainties were more delicate:
But welcome are to you the best we haue.
Now let vs in, that you may be dispatcht,
Exeunt omnes.I thinke our Counsell is alreadie set.
Andrea.
Come we for this from depth of vnder ground,
To see him feast, that gaue me my deathes wound?
These pleasant sightes are sorrow to my soule,
Nothing but league, and loue, and banqueting?
Reuenge.
Be still Andrea, ere we go from hence,
Ile turne their friendship into fell despight:
Their loue to mortall hate, their day to night,
Their hope into dispaire, their peace in warre,
Their ioyes to paine, their blisse to miserie.
ACTVS SECVNDVS.
Enter Lorenzo and Balthazar.
Lorenzo.
My Lord, though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy,
Let reason hold 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 Flint is pearst with softest shower,
And she in time will fall from her disdaine,
And rue the sufferance of your frindly paine.
My Lord, though Bel-imperia seeme thus coy,
Let reason hold 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 Flint is pearst with softest shower,
And she in time will fall from her disdaine,
And rue the sufferance of your frindly paine.
Balt.
