Mourning under the false impression that his son, Balthazar, has been killed in battle with the Spanish, the Viceroy of Portugal uses a common idiom and metaphor that imagines the concept of fortune as “blind.”
Yes, Fortune may bereave me of my crown:
Here, take it now; let Fortune do her worst,
She will not rob me of this sable weed—
Oh no, she envies none but pleasant things,
Such is the folly of despiteful chance!
Fortune is blind and sees not my deserts,
So is she deaf and hears not my laments;
And could she hear, yet is she willful mad,
And therefore will not pity my distress.
Suppose that she could pity me, what then?
His lengthy speech personifies the concept of “Fortune”—or chance—as a minor goddess who dictates the fates of men and women. He imagines her stealing his crown and even attempts to taunt Fortune to “do her worst.” “Fortune,” he concludes, “is blind and sees not my deserts.” In describing fortune as blind, he invokes a common idiom in early modern literature and drama that suggests that the destinies of men are seemingly random. Unlike the Christian God, who is generally imagined as punishing the wicked and rewarding the good, “blind” Fortune does not discriminate based upon merit or achievement. The Viceroy further expands upon this idiom, adding that Fortune is “deaf” too, and cannot be convinced by his “laments.”
In one of the play’s most notable soliloquies, Hieronimo bitterly mourns the murder of his son, Horatio. Standing alone outside the steps of the palace, Hieronimo states:
Oh eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears;
Oh life, no life, but lively form of death;
Oh world, no world, but mass of public wrongs,
Confused and filled with murder and misdeeds!
Oh sacred heavens, if this unhallowed deed,
If this inhuman and barbarous attempt,
If this incomparable murder thus
Of mine—but now no more my son—
Shall unrevealed and unrevenged pass,
How should we term your dealings to be just,
If you unjustly deal with those, that in your justice trust?
In his deeply emotional speech, Hieronimo moves from personal tragedy to broad societal disorder. In a metaphor, he describes his eyes as “fountains fraught with tears” and dismisses the concept of “life,” paradoxically, as a “lively form of death,” or in other words, the mere appearance of life in a world of death. Next, he turns his attention to the society that he feels enabled this tragedy, one that is “no world, but mass of public wrongs.”
Society, he suggests, is nothing but an accumulation of crimes—and in particular, murder. Last, he addresses the “sacred heavens” that have permitted this “unhallowed deed” to occur, arguing that the gods “unjustly deal” with their followers, undermining religious faith altogether. This soliloquy marks the severity of Hieronimo’s mourning and also his growing skepticism of both his society and religion.
Revenge uses a metaphor that compares the Ghost of Andrea to a farmer who reaps his crops prematurely. After witnessing the murder of his good friend Horatio and the assault on his beloved Bel-Imperia, Andrea turns angrily to Revenge to demand an explanation:
ANDREA: Broughtst thou me hither to increase my pain?
I looked that Balthazar should have been slain:
But tis my friend Horatio that is slain,
And they abuse fair Bel-imperia,
On whom I doted more than all the world,
Because she loved me more than all the world.REVENGE: Thou talkst of harvest, when the corn is green:
The end is crown of every work well done;
The Sickle comes not til the corn be ripe.
Be still, and ere I lead thee from this place;
I'll show thee Balthazar in heavy case.
Andrea complains that he was brought back to earth to witness the fulfillment of his revenge, but so far he has only observed further tragedy for his loved ones. Revenge urges him (and, by extension, the audience) to wait patiently for the play to end before jumping to conclusions. Revenge states that Andrea “talkst of harvest, when the corn is green” when he should hold off “til the corn be ripe.” Revenge’s metaphor imagines the finale of the play as a harvest that comes at the end of summer. Both, then, require patience but will ultimately reach a fulfilling conclusion.