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The Spanish Tragedy: Part Four

March 12, 2007 by David Gordon

46.   HIERONIMO’S HOUSE   EXT   NIGHT

 

By the light of the moon, the house, the gardens and HIERONIMO’s bower.  Lights glow on the upper floors of the modest building.

 

HIERIONIMO enters the garden.

 

            HIERONIMO

      I pry through every crevice of each wall,

      Look on each tree, and search through every brake,

      Beat at the bushes, stamp our mother earth,

      Yet cannot I behold my son Horatio!

 

As he speaks, HORATIO’S GHOST appears, and tries to speak to him.  It fails.  It disappears.

 

HIERONIMO falls down, weeping.  The garden gate creaks.

 


            HIERONIMO

      How now, who’s there?  Spirits?  Spirits?

 

ANGLE ON HIS SERVANTS, JACQUES AND PEDRO

 

Running up, with torches.

 

            PEDRO

      We are your servants that attend you, sir.

 

ANGLE ON ISABELLA

 

Hurrying to HIERONIMO’s side.  He tries to wipe his eyes,

to hide from her that he has been crying.

 

            ISABELLA

      Dear Hieronimo, come indoors.

      O, seek not means so to increase thy sorrow.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Indeed, Isabella.  We do nothing here.

      I do not cry, ask Pedro, and ask Jacques.

      Not I indeed.  We are very merry, very merry.

 

He hurries into the house. 

 

ISABELLA indicates the SERVANTS should go after him.

She remains in the bower. 

 

HORATIO’S GHOST appears.

 

            ISABELLA   

      How, be merry here?  Be merry here?

      Is not this the place, and this the very tree

      Where my Horatio hied, where he was murdered.

 

Again, HORATIO’S GHOST tries to attract the attention of the living.  And fails.  ISABELLA goes to the trellis.

 

            ISABELLA

      This was the tree.  I set it of a kernel,

      And when our hot Spain could not let it grow

      But that the infant and humane sap

      Began to wither, duly, twice a morning

      Would I be sprinkling it with fountain water.

      At last it grew, and grew, and bore, and bore.

 

She studies the tree which overgrows the trellis, from which HORATIO was hanged.

     

            ISABELLA

      Till at length it grew a gallows, 

      and did bear our son.

      It bore thy fruit and mine;

      O, wicked, wicked plant!     

 

She breaks down.

 

 

47.   HIERONIMO’S STUDY   INT   NIGHT

 

A loud pounding at the door.  HIERONIMO is seated at his desk, looking at his accounting books.

The books cover many years spent in the KING’s service – every entry attentively filled out by HIERIONIMO’s scrupulous hand. 

 

            HIERONIMO

      See who knocked there!

 

No answer from PEDRO or JACQUES.  HIERONIMO gets up and goes into the big —

 

 

48.   MAIN ROOM   INT   NIGHT

 

— and opens the front door.

 

REVENGE looms in the doorway.

 

HIERONIMO squints.

 

REVENGE disappears.

Puzzled, HIERONIMO closes the door.  He turns and sees —

 

— the PAINTER [played by the actor who plays REVENGE] seated at his easel and canvas, on a stool in the middle of the room.

 

The subject of his painting is not yet seen.

 

            HIERONIMO

      A painter, sir?  Cans’t paint some comfort?

 

            PAINTER

      God bless you, sir.         

 

HIERONIMO goes to his sideboard and gets a bottle of port and some glasses.

 

            HIERONIMO

      What woulds’t thou have, good fellow?

 

            PAINTER

      Justice, sir.

 

HIERONIMO stops in mid-pour.

 

            HIERONIMO

      O ambitious beggar, woulds’t thou have that

      That lives not in the world? 

      Why, all the undelved minds cannot buy

      An ounce of justice, ‘tis a jewel so inestimable.

      I tell thee, God hath engrossed all justice

      in his hands,

      And there is none, but what comes from him.        

            PAINTER

      Oh, then I see that God must right me for

      my murdered son.

 

            HIERONIMO

          (goes to him)

      How?  Was thy son murdered?

 

            PAINTER

      Ay, sir.  No man did hold a son so dear.

 

            HIERONIMO

      What, not as thine?  That’s a lie

      As massie as the earth.  I had a son

      Whose least unvalued hair did weigh

      A thousand of thy sons!  And he was murdered.

 

            PAINTER

      Alas, sir, I had no more but he.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Nor I, nor I.  But this same one of mine,

      Was worth a legion…  but all is one.

 

He pulls up a bench, sits down, as the PAINTER paints. 

For all he knows, he’s sitting for his portrait.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Come, let’s talk wisely now.

      Was thy son murdered?

 

            PAINTER

      Ay, sir.

 

HIERONIMO

      So was mine.

      How do’st take it?  Art thou not sometimes mad?

      Are there no tricks that come before thine eyes?

 

            PAINTER

      O, Lord, yes sir.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Art a painter?  Can’st paint me a tear, or a wound?

      A groan, or a sigh?

 

He points through the window to bower, with the TREE above the trellis.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Cans’t paint me such a tree as this?

 

            PAINTER

      Very well, sir.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Nay, I pray, mark me, sir.  Then, sir, would I

have you paint me this tree, this very tree.

      Cans’t paint a doleful cry?

 

            PAINTER

      Seemingly, sir.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Nay, it should cry… but all is one.

      Well, sir, paint me a youth run through and

      through with villains’ swords, hanging upon

      this tree…

      Cans’t thou draw a murderer?

 

            PAINTER

      I’ll warrant you, sir, I have the pattern of

      the most notorious villains that ever lived

      in all Spain.

 

            HEIRONIMO

      O let them be worse.  Worse.  Stretch thine art.

      Bring me forth in my shirt, with a torch in my

      hand, and with these words: “What noise is this?

      Who calls Hieronimo?”  May it be done?

 

            PAINTER

Yes, sir.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Let the clouds scowl, make the moon dark,

      the stars extinct, the winds blowing, the bells

      tolling, the owl shrieking, the toads croaking,

      the minutes jeering, and the clock striking twelve.

      And then at last, sir, starting, behold a man

      hanging. 

      And tottering, and tottering, as you know the

      wind will weave a man, and I with a pair of shears

      to cut him down…

 

CLOSE UP ON HIERONIMO.

     

      HIERONIMO

      … and looking upon him by the advantage of

      my torch, find to be my son, Horatio. 

 

ANGLE ON THE PAINTING

 

As the PAINTER turns the easel to show HIERONIMO his work.

 

It is a portrait of LORENZO, BALTHAZAR and their dead ACCOMPLICES, murdering HORATIO.

 

            PAINTER

      And is this the end?

 

            HIERONIMO

      O no, there is no end.  The end is death

      and madness.

 

HIERONIMO reaches for his sword, which hangs beside the door. He turns back, sword drawn, to slash the painting —

 

— but there is no painting, and no PAINTER.

 

He slashes at the air.

 

 

49.   MAGISTRATES’ COURT   INT   DAY

 

HIERONIMO, heavy-eyed from lack of sleep, doggedly pursues his official duties as chief magistrate.  He surveys the courtroom and a massive amount of official documents which he must read and sign.

 

Stretching away from him is a long line of PETITIONERS.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Come near, you men that thus importune me.

Now must I bear a face of gravity.

      Come on, sirs, what’s the matter?

     

            CITIZEN 2

      Sir, an action!

 

            CITIZEN 1

      Mine, of debt!

 

            HIERONIMO

      Give place.

 

            CITIZEN 2

      No, sir!  Mine is an action of the case!

 

            CITIZEN 3

      Mine an Ejection Firma by a Lease!

 

They thrust their papers at HIERONIMO for signature.

He notices an OLD MAN with mournful eyes and hands raised heavenward.   [This OLD MAN, too, is played by REVENGE.]

 

            HIERONIMO

      Say, father, tell me what’s thy suit?

 

The OLD MAN hands him a paper.  HIERONIMO reads it.

 

            HIERONIMO

      What’s here?  The humble supplication

      Of Don Bazulto for his murdered son?

 

The OLD MAN nods. 

 

            HIERONIMO

      No, sir.  It was my murdered son.  My son,

      O my son, o my son Horatio…

      But mine or thine, Bazulto, be content.

      Here, take my handkerchief, and wipe your eyes.

 

He pulls loose the BLOOD-SOAKED SCARF of HORATIO and ANDREA.

 

            HIERONIMO

      O, no!  Not this!  Horatio, this was thine!

      And, when I dyed it in thy dearest blood

      This was a token twixt thy soul and me

      That of thy death, revengéd I should be.

      Revenge on them that murderéd my son!

      Then will I rent and tear them!  Thus and thus!

      Shivering their limbs in pieces, with my teeth!

 

HIERONIMO tears the papers apart with his teeth.

 

CONSTERNATION in the court room.

 

            CITIZEN 1

      O sir, my declaration!

 

            CITIZEN 2

      Save my bond! 

 

HIERONIMO flees into the cloakroom.  Behind him —

 

            CITIZEN 3

      Alas, my lease!   It cost me ten pound!

      And you, my lord, have torn the same…

 

 

50.   MAGISTRATES’ CLOAKROOM   INT   DAY

 

HIERONIMO pulls off his cloak.

 

The occupants of the court flee as HIERONIMO overturns the statue of JUSTICE and the plinths of great JURISTS.

 

He turns and the silent OLD MAN is there.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Now I know thee. 

      Thou art the lively image of my grief,

      Within thy face my sorrows I may see.

      Thy eyes are gummed with tears, thy cheeks are wan,

      Thy forehead troubled, and thy muttering lips

      Murmur sad words, abruptly broken off.

      By force of windy sighs thy spirit breathes,

      And all this sorrow riseth for thy son.

          (pause;heavily)

      And self same sorrow feel I for my son.

 

HIERONIMO yanks off his CHAIN OF OFFICE.  He turns to exit, throwing it aside as he goes.

 

 

51.   GUEST ROOM, CASTILE’S PALACE   INT   DAY

 

BEL-IMPERIA’S MAID is draping a necklace around BEL-IMPERIA’s neck.  BEL-IMPERIA stands,a determined expression on her face.  She wears full finery, as if about to attend a lavish function.

 

The DOOR opens, to reveal LORENZO, dressed in military regalia.  He hesitates, uncertain of his sister’s mood. 

 

She gives him an ironic smile, as if to say she’ll go along with his game.  Relieved, he enters, kisses her cheek.

 

The PAGE peers around the door, holding a GUN – clearly put there by his master in case things had gone the other way.

 

LORENZO motions to him to put the GUN away, and unctuously ushers BEL-IMPERIA out the door…

 

 

52.   COURTYARD, CASTILE’S PALACE   EXT   DAY

 

BALTHAZAR, in military uniform, decorations and breastplate, awaits the arrival of BEL-IMPERIA.  He holds a POSY.

 

LORENZO escorts her down the stairs to meet her suitor.

BALTHAZAR thrusts the FLOWERS upon her.  BEL-IMPERIA accepts them, gritting her teeth.

 

They sit down facing a CATWALK – surrounded by rows of chairs and tables.  SERVANTS and SECURITY GUARDS usher other distinguished GUESTS to their places.

 

There is a BOUNCY CASTLE and a RAFFLE in progress.

 

ANGLE ON THE KING AND CASTILE

 

Smoking cigars, standing before a huge floral display of Spain and Portugal, as the VICEROY OF PORTUGAL and his entourage enter, followed by TV NEWS CREWS.

 

            KING

      And now to meet the Portuguese!

      For, as we now are, sometimes were these –

      Kings and commanders of the Western Indies!

 

His ENTOURAGE applauds his witticism.

 

            KING

      Welcome, brave Viceroy, to the court of Spain.

           

            CASTILE

And welcome, all his honourable train!

 

SERVANTS pass out mimosas.  The KING hands round cigars.

 

VICEROY

      Renownéd King, I come to solemnize

      The marriage of thy belovéd niece —

 

ANGLE ON BEL-IMPERIA

 

Escorted to the scene by GUARDS.  Teeth clenched in a smile.  She waves to the applauding crowd, as BALTHAZAR joins her — the Golden Couple.

 

            VICEROY

      — fair Bel-Imperia with my Balthazar!

      With thee, my son – since, whom I live to see,

      Take this my crown: I give it her and thee.

 

Even more applause.  BALTHAZAR drags BEL-IMPERIA over.

The VICEROY embraces them both.

 

            VICEROY

      Now, let me live a solitary life

      In ceaseless prayers.

 

            KING

      Come, worthy Viceroy, and accompany thy friend.

      A place more private fits this princely mood.

 

            VICEROY

      Or here, or where your Highness thinks is good.

 

They all sit down to watch the FASHION SHOW.

 

LORENZO tries to join them, but is intercepted by his father, CASTILE.

 

            CASTILE

      Nay, stay, Lorenzo.  Let me talk with you.

      See’st thou the entertainment of these Kings?

     

            LORENZO

      I do, my lord.  And joy to see the same.

 

            CASTILE

      And knowest thou why this meeting is?

 

            LORENZO

      For her, my lord, whom Balthazar doth love.

      And to confirm their promised marriage.

 

            CASTILE

      She is thy sister.

 

            LORENZO

      Who, Bel-Imperia?

          (with forced casualness)

      Ay, my gracious lord. 

      And this is the day that I have longed so

      happily to see.

 

            CASTILE

          (meaningfully)

      Thou wouldst be loathe that any fault of thine

      Should intercept her in her happiness?

 

ANGLE ON BEL-IMPERIA

 

Gritting her teeth, watching the fashion show.

 

     

            LORENZO

          (sanctimoniously)

      Heavens will not let Lorenzo err so much!

 

            CASTILE

      Why, then, Lorenzo: listen to my words.

      It is suspected, and reported, too,

      That thou, Lorenzo, wrong’st Hieronimo.

      And in his suits towards his Majesty,

      Still keep him back and seek to cross his suit.

 

            LORENZO

      That I… my lord?

 

            CASTILE

      I tell thee, son, myself have heard it said,

      When to my sorrow I have been ashamed

      To answer for thee, though thou art my son.

      Lorenzo, know’st thou not the common love

      And kindness that Hieronimo hath won

      By his deserts within the Court of Spain?

 

            LORENZO

      Ay.

 

            CASTILE

      Seest thou not the King, my brother’s care

      On his behalf, and to procure his health?

      Lorenzo, should thou thwart his passions,

      And he exclaim against thee to the King,

      Oh what a scandal were’t among these Kings

      To hear Hieronimo exclaim on thee!

 

LORENZO

      Father, it lies not in Lorenzo’s power

      To stop the vulgar liberal of their tongues –

 

            CASTILE

      Tell me!  And look you tell me truly, too:

      Whence grows the ground of this report in Court?

 

            LORENZO

      Dad, no man lives that long contenteth all.

 

            CASTILE

      My self have seen thee busily keep back

      Him and his supplications from the King.

 

            LORENZO

      Because I pitied him in his distress.

      I held him thence with kind and courteous words,

As free from malice to Hieronimo

As to my soul, my lord.

     

CASTILE drums his fingers nervously.   Loud music pounds.

 

            CASTILE

      Hieronimo, my son, mistakes thee, then?

 

            LORENZO

      My gracious father, believe me so.  He doth.

      But what’s a silly man, distract in mind,

      Thinking upon the murder of his son.

      Alas, how easy is it for him to err.

      But for his satisfaction and the world’s,

      ‘Twere good, my lord, that Hieronimo and I

      Were reconciled, if he misconstrued me.

           

CASTILE beckons to SERVANTS.

 

            CASTILE

      Lorenzo, thou hast said it.  It shall be so.

      Go, one of you, and call Hieronimo.

 

ANGLE ON BEL-IMPERIA AND BALTHAZAR

 

He paws her as they watch the fashion show.

 

            BALTHAZAR

      Come, Bel-Imperia, Balthazar’s content.

      My sorrow’s ease, and sovereign of my bliss.

      Since heaven has ordained thee to be mine,

      Disperse those clouds and melancholy looks!

 

            BEL-IMPERIA

      My looks, my lord, are fitting for my love,

      Which, new-begun, can show no brighter yet.

         (rises)

      I see my lord and father!

 

She hurries to CASTILE.  BALTHAZAR stumbles after her.

 

            CASTILE

      Welcome, Balthazar!  Welcome, brave Prince!

And welcome, Bel-Imperia.  How now, girl?

      Why comes’t thou sadly to salute us thus?

     

BEL-IMPERIA does not answer, glares at LORENZO. 

 

            CASTILE

      Content thyself, for I am satisfied!

      It is not now as when Andrea lived:

      We have forgotten and forgiven that.

      Now thou art gracéd with a happier love!

 

ANGLE ON HIERONIMO

           

            HIERONIMO

      Where’s the Duke?

 

            SERVANT

      Yonder.

 

He makes his way through the crowd, towards CASTILE.

 

            CASTILE

      But, Balthazar, here comes Hieronimo.

      Let’s have a word with him. 

 

LORENZO and BALTHAZAR share a glance.  BEL-IMPERIA is much encouraged.

 

            CASTILE

      Welcome, Hieronimo!

 

He looks at LORENZO and the Prince.

 

            LORENZO

      Welcome, Hieronimo.

 

            BALTHAZAR

      Welcome.

 

            BEL-IMPERIA

      WELCOME!!

 

            HIERONIMO

      My lords, I thank you for Horatio.

 

BEL-IMPERIA nods furiously. 

 

            CASTILE

      Hieronimo, the reason that I sent

      To speak with you, is this —

 

Uncomfortable, CASTILE doesn’t know what to say.

 

A BLAST OF MUSIC from the sound system distracts him.

 

            HIERONIMO

      What, so short?

      Then I’ll be gone.  I thank you for it.

 

            CASTILE

      No, stay, Hieronimo!  Go, call him, son.

 

LORENZO hurries after the departing HIERONIMO.

 

            LORENZO

          (shouting above the music)

Hieronimo, my father craves a word with you!

 

            HIERONIMO

          (shouting back)

      With me, sir?  Why, my lord, I thought you

      had done.

 

            LORENZO

          (to himself)

      No, would he had.

 

CASTILE tries to take HIERONIMO aside.

 

            CASTILE

      I hear you find yourself aggrieved, saying

      My son denies you access to the King.

 

            HIERONIMO

      Why, is this not a miserable thing, my lord?

 

            CASTILE

          (nervously)

Hieronimo, I hope you have no cause  

And would be loathe that one of your deserts

      Should once have reason to suspect my son,

      Considering how I think of you myself.

 

HIERONIMO doesn’t know what to say.  He looks at BEL-IMPERIA.

She looks pointedly at the SECURITY GUARDS, shakes her head.

 

            HIERONIMO

      These be the scandalous reports of those

      That love not me, and hate my lord too much!

      Should I suspect Lorenzo would prevent

      Or cross my suit, that loved my son so well?

      My lord, I am ashamed it should be said.

 

            LORENZO

          (relieved; eagerly)

      Hieronimo, I never gave you cause…

 

            HIERONIMO

          (through gritted teeth)

      My good lord, I know you did not.

 

            CASTILE

      There, then.  Pause!

 

He beckons the PAPARAZZI over.  Arranges the GROUP around his daughter and BALTHAZAR.  All smile.  Pictures are taken.

 

            CASTILE

      And for the satisfaction of the world

      Here before Prince Balthazar and me,

      Embrace each other, and be perfect friends.   

 

CASTILE grabs HIERONIMO and LORENZO, drags them to the front,

Makes them shake hands.  More photos.

 

            HIERONIMO

      I’ll be friends with you all —

          (to CASTILE)

      — specially with you, my lovely lord.

     

            BALTHAZAR

      Why, this is friendly done, Hieronimo!

 

            LORENZO

      And that I hope old grudges are forgot!

 

            HIERONIMO

      What else?  It were a shame it should not be so.

 

SERVANTS pass champagne around.  Toasts.  Photos.  Amid the general relief, no one notices HIERONIMO and BEL-IMPERIA exchange a significant look.

 

53.   ABANDONED BUILDING   INT   DAY

 

REVENGE lies sleeping in a hammock, a smug expression on his face.  

 

Faintly-visible GHOSTS stand around him, moaning.

ANDREA, more visible, moans loudest of all.

 

            ANDREA

      Awake, Revenge!  Cerberus, awake!

          (shakes him)

      Revenge, awake!

 

            REVENGE

      Awake, for why?

 

            ANDREA

      Awake, Revenge, for thou art ill-advised

      To sleep away what thou art warned to watch!

 

            REVENGE

      Content thyself, and do not trouble me.

 

            ANDREA

      Hieronimo with Lorenzo’s joined in league

      And intercepts our passage to revenge!

     

            REVENGE

      Content thyself, Andrea.  Though I sleep,

      Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.

      Sufficeth thee that poor Hieronimo

      Cannot forget his son, Horatio.

      Nor dies Revenge, although he sleeps awhile!

 

REVENGE bounds up, goes to the PUPPET TABLE where the PUPPET BATTLEFIELD was laid.  He sweeps dead PUPPETS, carts and trees and tanks aside, and sets out the images of HIERONIMO, LORENZO, ISABELLA, BALTHAZAR, BEL-IMPERIA, CASTILE, the AMBASSADOR, the KING.

     

            REVENGE

          (imitating ANDREA)

      “Awake, Revenge.  Reveal this mystery!”

 

He turns a single light on —

     

CLOSE ON THE PUPPETS

 

We see that they are all standing next to tiny boxes of DYNAMITE sticking out of the mud – they are in a MINEFIELD.

ANGLE ON REVENGE

 

Backing away from the table, laying out a long FUSE.

 

            ANDREA

      Sufficeth me, thy meaning’s understood.

      And thanks to thee and those infernal powers

      That will not tolerate a lover’s woe.

      Rest thee, for I will sit to see the rest.

 

            REVENGE

      Then argue not, for thou hast thy request.

 

REVENGE returns to the hammock, lights the FUSE.

 

Filed Under: Screenplays.

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  • Rants from the Post Modern World.
  • Rudy Wurlitzer.
  • Screenplays.
  • Stephanie Sides
  • Taking Charge of the Change.
  • Tanner J. Willbanks.
  • The Fictional Characters Working Group.
  • The Red Camp.
  • Tod Davies
  • Tod Davies.
  • Uncategorized
  • Walter Lomax

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