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. [ACT III. SCENE 13.] [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,