sonne Both done to death by olde Hieronimo, My Bel-imperia falne as Dido fell, And good Hieronimo slaine by himselfe! I, these were spectacles to please my soule. Now will I beg at louely Proserpine That, by the vertue of her princely doome, I may consort my freends in pleasing sort, And on my foes work iust and sharpe reuenge. Ile lead my freend Horatio through those feeldes Where neuer-dying warres are still inurde; Ile lead faire Isabella to that traine Where pittie weepes but neuer feeleth paine; Ile lead my Bel-imperia to those ioyes That vestal virgins and faire queenes possess; Ile lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plaies,     Adding sweet pleasure to eternall daies. But say, Reuenge,—for thou must helpe or none,—     Against the rest how shall my hate be showne? REUENGE. This hand shall hale them down to deepest hell, Where none but furies, bugs and tortures dwell. GHOAST. Then, sweet Reuenge, doo this at my request:     Let me iudge and doome them to vnrest; Let loose poore Titius from the vultures gripe, And let Don Ciprian supply his roome; Place Don Lorenzo on Ixions wheele, And let the louers endles paines surcease, Iuno forget olde wrath and graunt him ease; Hang Balthazar about Chimeras neck, And let him there bewaile his bloudy loue, Repining at our ioyes that are aboue; Let Serberine goe roule the fatall stone And take from Siciphus his endles mone; False Pedringano, for his trecherie, Let him be dragde through boyling Acheron, And there liue dying still in endles flames, Blaspheming gods and all their holy names. REUENGE. Then haste we downe to meet thy freends and foes; To place thy freends in ease, the rest in woes. For heere though death [doth] end their miserie, Ile there begin their endles tragedie. Exeunt. 

                 FINIS. 

   

   

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