Indeed, thou may'st torment me, as his wretched son Hath done in murd'ring my Horatio; But never shalt thou force me to reveal The thing which I have vow'd inviolate: And therefore, in despite of all thy threats, Pleas'd with their deaths, and eas'd with their revenge, First take my tongue, and afterwards my heart. [_He bites out his tongue._ KING. O monstrous resolution of a wretch! See, Viceroy, he hath bitten forth his tongue, Rather than to reveal what we requir'd. CASTILE. Yet can he write. KING. And if in this he satisfy us not, We will devise th' extremest kind of death That ever was invented for a wretch. [_He makes signs for a knife to mend his pen._ CASTILE. O, he would have a knife to mend his pen. VICEROY. Here; and advise thee, that thou write the troth. Look to my brother, save Hieronimo. [_He with the knife stabs the duke and himself._ KING. What age hath ever heard such monstrous deeds? My brother, and the whole succeeding hope That[331] Spain expected after my decease! Go bear his body hence, that we may mourn The loss of our beloved brother's death, That he may be entomb'd whate'er befall: I am the next, the nearest--last of all. VICEROY. And thou, Don Pedro, do the like for us: Take up our hapless son, untimely slain; Set me with him, and he with woeful me, Upon the main-mast of a ship unmann'd, And let the wind and tide hale me along To Scylla's barking and untamed gulph; Or to the loathsome pool of Acheron, To weep my want for[332] my sweet Balthazar: [_Exeunt._ [_The trumpets sound a dead march; the_ KING OF SPAIN _mourning after his brother's body, and_ _the_ KING OF PORTINGAL _bearing the body of_ _his son_. _Enter_ GHOST _and_ REVENGE. GHOST.