The second part
To the same tune.
THen Isabella my deare wyfe,
Finding her sonne bereau'd of breath,
And louing him dearer then life
Her owne hand straight doth worke her death.
And now their deaths doth meet in one:
My griefes are come, my Ioyes are gone.
Then frantickly I ran about,
Filling the ayre with mournefull groanes,
Because I had not yet found out
The murtherers to ease my mones.
I rent and tore each thing I got,
And sayd, and did, I knew not what.
Thus as I past the streets, hard by
The Duke of Castiles house as then
A Letter there I did espy,
Which show'd Horatios wofull end.
Which Bellimperia foorth had flung.
From prison where they kept her strong.
Then to the Court forthwith I went,
And of the King did Iustice craue,
But by Lorenzos bad intent,
I hindred was, which made me raue.
Then vexed more I stamp'd and frown'd,
And with my ponyard ript the ground.
But false Lorenzo put mee out,
And tolde the King then by and by,
That frantickly I ran about,
And of my sonne did alwayes cry,
And say'd twere good I should resigne:
My Marshall-ship which grieu'd my mind.
The Duke of Castyle hearing then,
How I did grudge still at his sonne,
Did send for me to make vs friends:
To stay the rumour then begune.
Whereto I straight way gaue consent:
Although in heart I neuer meant.
Sweete Bellimperia comes to me,
Thinking my sonne I had forgot,
To see me with his foes agree,
The which I neuer meant God wot:
But when wee knew each others mind,
To worke reuenge a meane I find.
Then Bloody Baltazar enters in
Entreating me to show some sport,
Vnto his Father and the King:
That to his nuptiall did resort.
Which gladly I prepar'd to show.
Because I knew twoul'd worke their woe.
And from the Chronicles of Spaine,
I did record Erastus life,
And how the Turke had him so slayne:
And straight reuenge wrought by his wife.
Then for to act this Tragedy:
I gaue their parts Immediatly.
Sweete Bellimperia Baltazar killes,
Because he slew her dearest friend,
And I Lorenzos blood did spill,
And eke his soule to hell did send.
Then dyed my foes by dint of knife,
But Bellimperia ends her life.
Then for to specific my wronges,
With weeping eyes and mournefull hart,
I shew'd my sonne with bloody wounds,
And eke the murtherers did impart.
And sayd my sonne was as deare to me:
as thine, or thine, though Kinges you be.
But when they did behold this thing.
How I had slayne their onely sonnes:
The Duke, the Viceroy, and the King,
Vppon me all they straight did run.
To torture me they doe prepare,
Vnlesse I should it straight declare.
But that I would not tell it then,
Euen with my téeth I bit my tongue,
And in despite did giue it them,
That me with torments sought to wrong:
Thus when in age I sought to rest,
Nothing but sorrowes me opprest.
They knowing well that I could write,
Vnto my hand a pen did reach,
Meaning thereby I should recite,
The authors of this bloody f••••ch.
Then fained I my pen was naught
And by strange signes a knife I sought.
But when to me they gaue the knife.
I kill'd the Dake then standing by,
And eke my selfe bereau'd of life,
For I to sée my sonne did hye.
The Kinges that scorn'd my griefes before,
With nought can they theire Ioyes restore;
Here haue you heard my Tragicke tale.
Which on Horatio's death depends,
Whose death I could anew bewayle:
But that in it the murtherers ends,
For murther god will bring to light:
Though long it be his from mans sight.