Hor monologue — The Spanish Tragedy

For love of him and service to yourself, I'll not refuse this heavy doleful charge; Yet tears and sighs, I fear, will hinder me. When both our armies were enjoin'd in fight, Your worthy cavalier amidst the thickest, For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, Was at the last by young Don Balthazar Encounter'd hand-to-hand. Their fight was long, Their hearts were great, their clamours menacing, Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous; But wrathful Nemesis, that wicked power, Envying at Andrea's praise and worth, Cut short his life to end his praise and worth. She, she herself, disguis'd in armour's mask, As Pallas was before proud Pergamus, Brought in a fresh supply of halberdiers, Which punch'd his horse and ding'd him to the ground. Then young Don Balthazar, with ruthless rage, Taking advantage of his foe's distress, Did finish what his halberdiers begun; And left not till Andrea's life was done. Then, though too late, incens'd with just remorse, I with my band set forth against the prince, And brought him prisoner from his halberdiers.