onorable freend?
Graunt me the combat of them, if they dare!

Drawes out his sword.

Ile meet them face-to-face to tell me so!
These be the scandalous reports of such
As loues not me, and hate my lord too much.
Should I suspect Lorenzo would preuent
Or crosse my sute, that loued my sonne so well?
My lord, I am ashamed it should be said.

LOR. Hieronimo, I neuer gaue you cause.

H[I]ERO. My good lord, I know you did not.

CAS. There then pause,
And, for the satisfaction of the world,
Hieronimo, frequent my homely house,
The Duke of Castile Ciprians ancient seat;
And when thou wilt, vse me, my sonne, and it.
But heere before Prince Balthazar and me
Embrace each other, and be perfect freends.

HIERO. I, marry, my lord, and shall!
Freends, quoth he? See, Ile be freends with you all!
Especially with you, my louely lord;
For diuers causes it is fit for vs
That we be freends. The world is suspitious,
And men may think what we imagine not.

BAL. Why this is freely doone, Hieronimo.

LOR. And I hope olde grudges are forgot.

HIERO. What els? it were a shame it should not
be so!

CAS. Come on, Hieronimo, at my request;
Let vs entreat your company to-day!

Exeunt.

[CHORUS.]

Enter GHOAST and REUENGE.

GHOST. Awake Erictho! Cerberus, awake!
Sollicite Pluto, gentle Proserpine!
To combat, Achinon and Ericus in hell!
For neere by Stix and Phlegeton [there came.]
Nor ferried Caron to the fierie lakes,
Such fearfull sights, as poore Andrea see[s]?
Reuenge awake!

REUENGE. Awake? for-why?

GHOST. Awake, Reuenge! for thou art ill aduisde
To sleepe away what thou art warnd to watch!

REUENGE. Content thy-selfe, and doe not trouble me.

GHOST. Awake, Reuenge, if loue, as loue hath had,
Haue yet the power of preuailance in hell!
Hieronimo with Lorenzo is ioynde in league,
And intecepts our passage to reuenge.
Awake, Reuenge, or we are woe-begone!

REUENGE. Thus worldings ground what they haue dreamd vpon!
Content thy-selfe, Andrea; though I sleepe,
Yet is my mood soliciting their soules.
Sufficeth thee that poore Hieronimo
Cannot forget his sonne Horatio.
Nor dies Reuegne although he sleepe a-while;
For in vnquiet