Which at Horatio's death I, weeping, dipp'd Within the river of his bleeding wounds: It as propitious, see, I have reserved,[318] And never hath it left my bloody[319] heart, Soliciting remembrance of my vow With these, O, these accursed murderers. Which now perform'd my heart is satisfi'd. And to this end the bashaw I became, That might revenge me on Lorenzo's life; Who therefore was appointed to the part, And was to represent the Knight of Rhodes, That I might kill him more conveniently:-- So, Viceroy, was this Balthazar thy son, That Solyman, which Bell'-Imperia, In person of Perseda, murdered, Solely appointed to that tragic part, That she might slay him that offended her. Poor Bell'-Imperia miss'd her part in this; For though the story say'th, she should have died, Yet I of kindness, and of care to her, Did otherwise determine of her end; But love of him, whom they did hate too[320] much, Did urge her resolution to be such.-- And, princes, now behold Hieronimo, Author and actor in this tragedy, Bearing his latest fortune in his fist; And will as resolute conclude his part, As any of the actors gone before. And, gentles,[321] thus I end my play. Urge no more words: I have no more to say. [_He runs to hang himself._ KING. O, hearken, Viceroy. Hold, Hieronimo! Brother, my nephew and thy son are slain. VICEROY. We are betrayed; my Balthazar is slain! Break ope the doors; run, save Hieronimo. [_They run in and hold_ HIERONIMO. Hieronimo, do but inform the king of these events; Upon mine honour, thou shalt have no harm. HIERONIMO. Viceroy, I will not trust thee with my life, Which I this day have offered to my son. Accursed wretch, why stay'st[322] thou him, that was Resolv'd to die? KING. Speak, traitor! damned bloody murderer, speak! For now I have thee, I will make thee speak. Why hast thou done this undeserving deed? VICEROY. Why hast thou murdered my Balthazar? CASTILE. Why hast thou butcher'd both my children thus? HIERONIMO. But are you sure that they are dead? CASTILE. Ay, slain too sure. HIERONIMO. What, and yours too? VICEROY. Ay, all are dead; not one of them survive. HIERONIMO. Nay, then I care not; come, and we shall be friends: Let us lay our heads together. See, here's a goodly noose will hold them all. VICEROY.