1
The Duchess of Malfi
John Webster — EMOTHE0173_TheDuchessOfMalfi
BOSOLA
gentleman of the horse
FERDINAND
Duke of Calabria
CARDINAL
his brother
ANTONIO
steward of the Duchess’ household
DELIO
his friend
FOROBOSCO
MALATESTA
a Count
THE MARQUIS OF PESCARA
SILVIO
a Lord
CASTRUCHIO
an old Lord
RODERIGO
a Lord
GRISOLAN
a Lord
THE DUCHESS
CARIOLA
her woman
JULIA
wife to Castruchio and mistress to the Cardinal.
THE DOCTOR
Court Officers
The several mad men, including: <<Astrologer, Tailor, Priest, Doctor.>>
Three young children
Two pilgrims
Attendans, Ladies, Executioners.
Old Lady
The ECHO from the Duchess’s grave
Guards, other servants.
RODERIGO and DELIO
SERVANTS
Act I
Scene i
([Enter Antonio and Delio.])
DELIO.
You are welcome to your country, dear Antonio,
1
You have been long in France, and you return
2
A very formal Frenchman, in your habit.
3
How do you like the French court?
4
ANTONIO.
I admire it;
In seeking to reduce both State and people
5
To a fixed order, their judicious King
6
Begins at home. Quits first his royal palace
7
Of flatt’ring sycophants, of dissolute,
8
And infamous persons, which he sweetly terms
9
His Master’s master-piece, the work of Heaven,
10
Consid’ring duly, that a Prince’s court
11
Is like a common fountain, whence should flow
12
Pure silver-drops in general. But if’t chance
13
Some cursed example poison’t near the head,
14
Death and diseases through the whole land spread.
15
And what is’t makes this blessed government,
16
But a most provident Council, who dare freely
17
Inform him, the corruption of the times?
18
Though some o’th’court hold it presumption
19
To instruct Princes what they ought to do,
20
It is a noble duty to inform them
21
What they ought to foresee. Here comes Bosola,
22
[Enter Bosola] The only court-gall: yet I observe his railing
23
Is not for simple love of piety:
24
Indeed he rails at those things which he wants,
25
Would be as lecherous, covetous, or proud,
26
Bloody, or envious, as any man,
27
If he had means to be so. Here’s the Cardinal.
28
([Enter Cardinal.])
BOSOLA.
I do haunt you still.
CARDINAL.
So.
BOSOLA.
I have done you better service than to be slighted thus. Miserable age, where only the reward of doing well, is the doing of it!
CARDINAL.
You enforce your merit too much.
BOSOLA.
I fell into the galleys in your service, where, for two years together, I wore two towels instead of a shirt, with a knot on the shoulder, after the fashion of a Roman mantle. Slighted thus? I will thrive some way: blackbirds fatten best in hard weather: why not I, in these dog days?
CARDINAL.
Would you could become honest,-
BOSOLA.
With all your divinity, do but direct me the way to it. I have known many travel far for it, and yet return as arrant knaves, as they went forth; because they carried [Exit Cardinal] Are themselves always along with them. you gone? Some fellows, they say, are possessed with the evil, but this great fellow were able to possess the greatest devil and make him worse.
ANTONIO.
He hath denied thee some suit?
BOSOLA.
He and his brother are like plum trees, that grow crooked over standing pools, they are rich, and o’erladen with fruit, but none but crows, pies, and caterpillars feed on them. Could I be one of their flatt’ring panders, I would hang on their ears like a horse-leech, till I were full, and then drop off. I pray leave me. Who would rely upon these miserable dependences, in expectation to be advanced tomorrow? What creature ever fed worse, than hoping Tantalus; nor ever died any man more fearfully, than he that hoped for a pardon? There are rewards for hawks, and dogs, when they have done us service; but for a soldier, that hazards his limbs in a battle, nothing but a kind of geo- metry is his last supportation.
DELIO.
Geometry?
BOSOLA.
Ay, to hang in a fair pair of slings, take his latter swing in the world, upon an honourable pair of crutches, from hospital to hospital: fare ye well sir. And yet do not you scorn us, for places in the court are but like beds in the hospital, where this man’s head lies at that man’s foot, and so lower and lower.
([Exit BOSOLA.])
DELIO.
I knew this fellow seven years in the galleys,
69
For a notorious murther, and ’twas thought
70
The Cardinal suborned it: he was released
71
By the French general, Gaston de Foix
72
When he recovered Naples.
73
ANTONIO.
’Tis great pity
He should be thus neglected, I have heard
74
He’s very valiant. This foul melancholy
75
Will poison all his goodness, for, I’ll tell you,
76
If too immoderate sleep be truly said
77
To be an inward rust unto the soul;
78
It then doth follow want of action
79
Breeds all black malcontents, and their close rearing,
80
Like moths in cloth, do hurt for want of wearing.
81
Scene ii
([Enter Castruchio, Silvio, Roderigo, and Grisolan.])
DELIO.
The presence ’gins to fill. You promised me
1
To make me the partaker of the natures
2
Of some of your great courtiers.
3
ANTONIO.
The Lord Cardinal’s
And other strangers’, that are now in court?
4
I shall. Here comes the great Calabrian Duke.
5
([Enter Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Who took the ring oft’nest?
6
SILVIO.
Antonio Bologna, my lord.
FERDINAND.
Our sister Duchess’ great master of her house- hold? Give him the jewel: when shall we leave this sportive action, and fall to action indeed?
CASTRUCHIO.
Methinks, my lord, you should not desire to go to war, in person.
FERDINAND.
Now, for some gravity: why, my lord?
CASTRUCHIO.
It is fitting a soldier arise to be a prince, but not necessary a prince descend to be a captain!
FERDINAND.
No?
CASTRUCHIO.
No, my lord, he were far better do it by a deputy.
FERDINAND.
Why should he not as well sleep, or eat, by a deputy? This might take idle, offensive, and base office from him, whereas the other deprives him of honour.
CASTRUCHIO.
Believe my experience: that realm is never long in quiet, where the ruler is a soldier.
FERDINAND.
Thou told’st me thy wife could not endure fighting.
CASTRUCHIO.
True, my lord.
FERDINAND.
And of a jest she broke, of a captain she met full of wounds: I have forgot it.
CASTRUCHIO.
She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful fellow, to lie, like the children of Ismael, all in tents.
FERDINAND.
Why, there’s a wit were able to undo all the chirurgeons o’ the city, for although gallants should quarrel, and had drawn their weapons, and were ready to go to it; yet her persuasions would make them put up.
CASTRUCHIO.
That she would, my lord. How do you like my Spanish jennet?
RODERIGO.
He is all fire.
FERDINAND.
I am of Pliny’s opinion, I think he was begot by the wind; he runs as if he were ballasted with quick- silver.
SILVIO.
True, my lord, he reels from the tilt often.
RODERIGO and DELIO.
Ha, ha, ha!
FERDINAND.
Why do you laugh? Methinks you that are courtiers should be my touchwood, take fire when I give fire; that is, laugh when I laugh, were the subject never so witty,-
CASTRUCHIO.
True, my lord, I myself have heard a very good jest, and have scorned to seem to have so silly a wit, as to understand it.
FERDINAND.
But I can laugh at your fool, my lord.
CASTRUCHIO.
He cannot speak, you know, but he makes faces; my lady cannot abide him.
FERDINAND.
No?
CASTRUCHIO.
Nor endure to be in merry company: for she says too much laughing, and too much company, fills her too full of the wrinkle.
FERDINAND.
I would then have a mathematical instrument made for her face, that she might not laugh out of compass. I shall shortly visit you at Milan, Lord Silvio.
SILVIO.
Your Grace shall arrive most welcome.
FERDINAND.
You are a good horseman, Antonio; you have excellent riders in France, what do you think of good horsemanship?
ANTONIO.
Nobly, my lord: as out of the Grecian horse issued many famous princes: so out of brave horsemanship, arise the first sparks of growing resolution, that raise the mind to noble action.
FERDINAND.
You have bespoke it worthily.
([Enter Duchess, Cardinal, Cariola and Julia.])
SILVIO.
Your brother, the Lord Cardinal, and sister Duchess.
CARDINAL.
Are the galleys come about?
DELIO.
They are, my lord.
FERDINAND.
Here’s the Lord Silvio, is come to take his leave.
DELIO
Now, sir, your promise: what’s that Cardinal? I mean his temper? They say he’s a brave fellow, will play his five thousand crowns at tennis, dance, court ladies, and one that hath fought single combats.
ANTONIO.
Some such flashes superficially hang on him, for form: but observe his inward character: he is a melancholy churchman. The spring in his face is nothing but the engen- d’ring of toads: where he is jealous of any man, he lays worse plots for them, than ever was imposed on Hercules: for he strews in his way flatterers, panders, intelligencers, atheists: and a thousand such political monsters: he should have been Pope: but instead of coming to it by the primitive decency of the Church, he did bestow bribes, so largely, and so impudently, as if he would have carried it away without Heaven’s knowledge. Some good he hath done.
DELIO.
You have given too much of him: what’s his brother?
89
ANTONIO.
The Duke there? a most perverse and turbulent nature;
90
What appears in him mirth, is merely outside,
91
If he laugh heartily, it is to laugh
92
All honesty out of fashion.
93
DELIO.
Twins?
ANTONIO.
In quality:
He speaks with others’ tongues, and hears men’s suits
94
With others’ ears: will seem to sleep o’th’bench
95
Only to entrap offenders in their answers;
96
Dooms men to death by information,
97
Rewards, by hearsay.
98
DELIO.
Then the law to him
Is like a foul black cobweb to a spider,
99
He makes it his dwelling, and a prison
100
To entangle those shall feed him.
101
ANTONIO.
Most true:
He nev’r pays debts, unless they be shrewd turns,
102
And those he will confess, that he doth owe.
103
Last: for his brother, there, the Cardinal,
104
They that do flatter him most, say oracles
105
Hang at his lips: and verily I believe them:
106
For the devil speaks in them.
107
But for their sister, the right noble Duchess,
108
You never fixed your eye on three fair medals,
109
Cast in one figure, of so different temper.
110
For her discourse, it is so full of rapture
111
You only will begin, then to be sorry
112
When she doth end her speech: and wish, in wonder,
113
She held it less vainglory to talk much
114
Than your penance, to hear her: whilst she speaks,
115
She throws upon a man so sweet a look,
116
That it were able to raise one to a galliard
117
That lay in a dead palsy; and to dote
118
On that sweet countenance: but in that look
119
There speaketh so divine a continence
120
As cuts off all lascivious, and vain hope.
121
Her days are practiced in such noble virtue,
122
That, sure her nights, nay more, her very sleeps,
123
Are more in heaven, than other ladies’ shrifts.
124
Let all sweet ladies break their flatt’ring glasses,
125
And dress themselves in her.
126
DELIO.
Fie Antonio,
You play the wire-drawer with her commendations.
127
ANTONIO.
I’ll case the picture up: only thus much:
128
All her particular worth grows to this sum:
129
She stains the time past: lights the time to come.
130
CARIOLA.
You must attend my lady, in the gallery,
131
Some half an hour hence.
132
ANTONIO.
I shall.
([Exeunt Antonio and Delio.])
FERDINAND.
Sister, I have a suit to you.
133
DUCHESS.
To me, sir?
FERDINAND.
A gentleman here: Daniel de Bosola:
134
One, that was in the galleys.
135
DUCHESS.
Yes, I know him.
FERDINAND.
A worthy fellow h’ is: pray let me entreat for
136
The provisorship of your horse.
137
DUCHESS.
Your knowledge of him
Commends him, and prefers him.
138
FERDINAND.
Call him hither.
[Exit attendant] We are now upon parting. Good Lord Silvio
139
Do us commend to all our noble friends
140
At the leaguer.
141
SILVIO.
Sir, I shall.
DUCHESS.
You are for Milan?
SILVIO.
I am.
DUCHESS.
Bring the caroches: we’ll bring you down to the haven.
142
([Exeunt Dutchess, Cariola, Silvio, Castruchio, Roderigo, Grisolan and Julia.])
CARDINAL.
Be sure you entertain that Bosola
143
For your intelligence: I would not be seen in’t.
144
And therefore many times I have slighted him,
145
When he did court our furtherance: as this morning.
146
FERDINAND.
Antonio, the great master of her household
147
Had been far fitter.
148
CARDINAL.
You are deceived in him,
His nature is too honest for such business.
149
He comes: I’ll leave you.
150
([Enter Bosola])
BOSOLA.
I was lured to you.
([Exit Cardinal.])
FERDINAND.
My brother here, the Cardinal, could never
151
Abide you.
152
BOSOLA.
Never since he was in my debt.
FERDINAND.
May be some oblique character in your face
153
Made him suspect you?
154
BOSOLA.
Doth he study physiognomy?
There’s no more credit to be given to th’face,
155
Than to a sick man’s urine, which some call
156
The physician’s whore, because she cozens him.
157
He did suspect me wrongfully.
158
FERDINAND.
For that
You must give great men leave to take their times:
159
Distrust doth cause us seldom be deceived;
160
You see, the oft shaking of the cedar tree
161
Fastens it more at root.
162
BOSOLA.
Yet take heed:
For to suspect a friend unworthily
163
Instructs him the next way to suspect you,
164
And prompts him to deceive you.
165
FERDINAND .
There’s gold.
BOSOLA.
So:
What follows? (Never rained such showers as these
166
Without thunderbolts i’th’tail of them;)
167
Whose throat must I cut?
168
FERDINAND.
Your inclination to shed blood rides post
169
Before my occasion to use you. I give you that
170
To live i’th’ court, here: and observe the Duchess,
171
To note all the particulars of her haviour:
172
What suitors do solicit her for marriage
173
And whom she best affects: she’s a young widow,
174
I would not have her marry again.
175
BOSOLA.
No, sir?
FERDINAND.
Do not you ask the reason: but be satisfied,
176
I say I would not.
177
BOSOLA.
It seems you would create me
One of your familiars.
178
FERDINAND .
Familiar? what’s that?
BOSOLA.
Why, a very quaint invisible devil in flesh:
179
An intelligencer.
180
FERDINAND .
Such a kind of thriving thing
I would wish thee: and ere long, thou mayst arrive
181
At a higher place by’t.
182
BOSOLA.
Take your devils
Which hell calls angels: these cursed gifts would make
183
You a corrupter, me an impudent traitor,
184
And should I take these, they’ll’d take me to hell.
185
FERDINAND.
Sir, I’ll take nothing from you that I have given.
186
There is a place that I procured for you
187
This morning, the provisorship o’th’horse,
188
Have you heard on’t?
189
BOSOLA.
No.
FERDINAND .
’Tis yours, is’t not worth thanks?
BOSOLA.
I would have you curse yourself now, that your bounty,
190
Which makes men truly noble, e’er should make
191
Me a villain: oh, that to avoid ingratitude
192
For the good deed you have done me, I must do
193
All the ill man can invent. Thus the devil
194
Candies all sins o’er: and what heaven terms vild,
195
That names he complemental.
196
FERDINAND.
Be yourself:
Keep your old garb of melancholy: ’twill express
197
You envy those that stand above your reach,
198
Yet strive not to come near ’em. This will gain
199
Access to private lodgings, where yourself
200
May, like a politic dormouse,—
201
BOSOLA.
As I have seen some,
Feed in a lord’s dish, half asleep, not seeming
202
To listen to any talk: and yet these rogues
203
Have cut his throat in a dream: what’s my place?
204
The provisorship o’th’ horse? say then my corruption
205
Grew out of horse dung. I am your creature.
206
FERDINAND.
Away!
BOSOLA.
Let good men, for good deeds, covet good fame,
207
Since place and riches oft are bribes of shame;
208
Sometimes the devil doth preach.
209
(Exit Bosola.)
([Enter Cardinal, Duchess and Cariola.])
CARDINAL.
We are to part from you: and your own discretion
210
Must now be your director.
211
FERDINAND.
You are a widow:
You know already what man is: and therefore
212
Let not youth: high promotion, eloquence,—
213
CARDINAL.
No, nor anything without the addition, Honour,
214
Sway your high blood.
215
FERDINAND.
Marry? They are most luxurious,
Will wed twice.
216
CARDINAL.
Oh, fie!
FERDINAND .
Their livers are more spotted
Than Laban’s sheep.
217
DUCHESS.
Diamonds are of most value
They say, that have passed through most jewellers’ hands.
218
FERDINAND.
Whores, by that rule, are precious.
219
DUCHESS.
Will you hear me?
220
I’ll never marry―
CARDINAL.
So most widows say:
But commonly that motion lasts no longer
221
Than the turning of an hourglass; the funeral sermon
222
And it, end both together.
223
FERDINAND.
Now hear me:
You live in a rank pasture here, i’th’ court,
224
There is a kind of honeydew that’s deadly:
225
’Twill poison your fame; look to’t; be not cunning:
226
For they whose faces do belie their hearts
227
Are witches, ere they arrive at twenty years,
228
Ay: and give the devil suck.
229
DUCHESS.
This is terrible good counsel.
FERDINAND.
Hypocrisy is woven of a fine small thread,
230
Subtler than Vulcan’s engine: yet, believe’t,
231
Your darkest actions: nay, your privat’st thoughts,
232
Will come to light.
233
CARDINAL.
You may flatter yourself,
And take your own choice: privately be married
234
Under the eaves of night―
235
FERDINAND.
Think’t the best voyage
That e’er you made; like the irregular crab,
236
Which, though ’t goes backward, thinks that it goes right,
237
Because it goes its own way: but observe:
238
Such weddings may more properly be said
239
To be executed, than celebrated.
240
CARDINAL.
The marriage night
Is the entrance into some prison.
241
FERDINAND.
And those joys,
Those lustful pleasures, are like heavy sleeps
242
Which do forerun man’s mischief.
243
CARDINAL.
Fare you well.
Wisdom begins at the end: remember it.
244
([Exit Cardinal.])
DUCHESS.
I think this speech between you both was studied,
245
It came so roundly off.
246
FERDINAND.
You are my sister.
This was my father’s poniard: do you see,
247
I’ll’d be loath to see’t look rusty, ’cause ’twas his.
248
I would have you to give o’er these chargeable revels;
249
A visor and a mask are whispering-rooms
250
That were nev’r built for goodness: fare ye well:
251
And women like that part, which, like the lamprey,
252
Hath nev’r a bone in’t.
253
DUCHESS.
Fie, sir!
FERDINAND .
Nay,
I mean the tongue: variety of courtship;
254
What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale
255
Make a woman believe? Farewell, lusty widow.
256
([Exit Ferdinand.])
DUCHESS.
Shall this move me? If all my royal kindred
257
Lay in my way unto this marriage:
258
I’ll’d make them my low foot-steps. And even now,
259
Even in this hate, (as men in some great battles
260
By apprehending danger, have achieved
261
Almost impossible actions: I have heard soldiers say so,)
262
So I, through frights and threat’nings, will assay
263
This dangerous venture. Let old wives report
264
I winked, and chose a husband. Cariola,
265
To thy known secrecy I have given up
266
More than my life, my fame.
267
CARIOLA.
Both shall be safe:
For I’ll conceal this secret from the world
268
As warily as those that trade in poison,
269
Keep poison from their children.
270
DUCHESS.
Thy protestation
Is ingenious and hearty. I believe it.
271
Is Antonio come?
272
CARIOLA.
He attends you.
DUCHESS.
Good dear soul,
Leave me: but place thyself behind the arras,
273
Where thou mayst overhear us: wish me good speed,
274
For I am going into a wilderness,
275
Where I shall find nor path, nor friendly clew
276
To be my guide.
277
[Cariola goes behind the arras; the Dutchess draws the traverse to reveal Antonio.] I sent for you. Sit down:
Take pen and ink, and write. Are you ready?
278
ANTONIO.
Yes.
279
DUCHESS.
What did I say?
ANTONIO.
That I should write somewhat.
280
DUCHESS.
Oh, I remember:
After these triumphs and this large expense
281
It’s fit, like thrifty husbands, we inquire
282
What’s laid up for tomorrow.
283
ANTONIO.
So please your beauteous excellence.
284
DUCHESS.
Beauteous?
Indeed I thank you: I look young for your sake.
285
You have tane my cares upon you.
286
ANTONIO.
I’ll fetch your Grace
The particulars of your revenue and expense.
287
DUCHESS.
Oh, you are an upright treasurer: but you mistook,
288
For when I said I meant to make inquiry
289
What’s laid up for tomorrow: I did mean
290
What’s laid up yonder for me.
291
ANTONIO.
Where?
DUCHESS.
In heaven.
I am making my will, as ’tis fit princes should
292
In perfect memory, and I pray sir, tell me
293
Were not one better make it smiling, thus?
294
Than in deep groans, and terrible ghastly looks,
295
As if the gifts we parted with, procured
296
That violent distraction?
297
ANTONIO.
Oh, much better.
DUCHESS.
If I had a husband now, this care were quit:
298
But I intend to make you overseer;
299
What good deed shall we first remember? Say.
300
ANTONIO.
Begin with that first good deed, began i’th’ world,
301
After man’s creation, the sacrament of marriage.
302
I’ld have you first provide for a good husband,
303
Give him all.
304
DUCHESS.
All?
ANTONIO.
Yes, your excellent self.
DUCHESS.
In a winding-sheet?
305
ANTONIO.
In a couple.
DUCHESS.
St. Winifred! that were a strange will.
306
ANTONIO.
’Twere strange
If there were no will in you to marry again.
307
DUCHESS.
What do you think of marriage?
308
ANTONIO.
I take’t, as those that deny purgatory,
309
It locally contains or heaven, or hell;
310
There’s no third place in’t.
311
DUCHESS.
How do you affect it?
ANTONIO.
My banishment, feeding my melancholy,
312
Would often reason thus: —
313
DUCHESS.
Pray let’s hear it.
ANTONIO.
Say a man never marry, nor have children,
314
What takes that from him? Only the bare name
315
Of being a father, or the weak delight
316
To see the little wanton ride a-cock-horse
317
Upon a painted stick, or hear him chatter
318
Like a taught starling.
319
DUCHESS.
Fie, fie, what’s all this?
One of your eyes is bloodshot, use my ring to’t,
320
They say ’tis very sovereign: ’twas my wedding ring,
321
And I did vow never to part with it,
322
But to my second husband.
323
ANTONIO.
You have parted with it now.
DUCHESS.
Yes, to help your eyesight.
324
ANTONIO.
You have made me stark blind.
DUCHESS.
How?
ANTONIO.
There is a saucy and ambitious devil
325
Is dancing in this circle.
326
DUCHESS.
Remove him.
ANTONIO.
How?
DUCHESS.
There needs small conjuration, when your finger
327
May do it: thus, is it fit?
328
([She puts the ring on his finger.] he kneels.)
ANTONIO.
What said you?
DUCHESS.
Sir,
This goodly roof of yours, is too low built,
329
I cannot stand upright in’t, nor discourse,
330
Without I raise it higher: raise yourself,
331
Or, if you please, my hand to help you: so.
332
([Raises him.)
ANTONIO.
Ambition, Madam, is a great man’s madness,
333
That is not kept in chains, and close-pent rooms,
334
But in fair lightsome lodgings, and is girt
335
With the wild noise of prattling visitants,
336
Which makes it lunatic, beyond all cure.
337
Conceive not, I am so stupid, but I aim
338
Whereto your favours tend. But he’s a fool
339
That, being a-cold, would thrust his hands i’th’ fire
340
To warm them.
341
DUCHESS.
So, now the ground’s broke,
You may discover what a wealthy mine
342
I make you lord of.
343
ANTONIO.
Oh, my unworthiness!
DUCHESS.
You were ill to sell yourself;
344
This dark’ning of your worth is not like that
345
Which tradesmen use i’th’ city; their false lights
346
Are to rid bad wares off: and I must tell you
347
If you will know where breathes a complete man,
348
(I speak it without flattery), turn your eyes,
349
And progress through yourself.
350
ANTONIO.
Were there nor heaven, nor hell,
351
I should be honest: I have long served virtue,
352
And nev’r tane wages of her.
353
DUCHESS.
Now she pays it.
The misery of us, that are born great,
354
We are forced to woo, because none dare woo us:
355
And as a tyrant doubles with his words,
356
And fearfully equivocates: so we
357
Are forced to express our violent passions
358
In riddles, and in dreams, and leave the path
359
Of simple virtue, which was never made
360
To seem the thing it is not. Go, go brag
361
You have left me heartless, mine is in your bosom,
362
I hope ’twill multiply love there. You do tremble:
363
Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh
364
To fear, more than to love me. Sir, be confident,
365
What is’t distracts you? This is flesh, and blood, sir,
366
’Tis not the figure cut in alabaster
367
Kneels at my husband’s tomb. Awake, awake, man,
368
I do here put off all vain ceremony,
369
And only do appear to you, a young widow
370
That claims you for her husband, and like a widow,
371
I use but half a blush in’t.
372
ANTONIO.
Truth speak for me,
I will remain the constant sanctuary
373
Of your good name.
374
DUCHESS.
I thank you, gentle love,
And ’cause you shall not come to me in debt,
375
Being now my steward, here upon your lips
376
I sign your Quietus est . This you should have begged now:
377
I have seen children oft eat sweetmeats thus,
378
As fearful to devour them too soon.
379
ANTONIO.
But for your brothers?
380
DUCHESS.
Do not think of them:
All discord, without this circumference,
381
Is only to be pitied, and not feared.
382
Yet, should they know it, time will easily
383
Scatter the tempest.
384
ANTONIO.
These words should be mine,
And all the parts you have spoke, if some part of it
385
Would not have savored flattery.
386
DUCHESS.
Kneel.
([Enter Cariola.])
ANTONIO.
Ha?
DUCHESS.
Be not amazed, this woman’s of my counsel.
387
I have heard lawyers say, a contract in a chamber,
388
Per verba de presenti , is absolute marriage.
389
[The Duchess and Antonio kneel.] Bless, Heaven, this sacred Gordian, which let violence
390
Never untwine.
ANTONIO.
And may our sweet affections, like the spheres,
391
Be still in motion.
392
DUCHESS.
Quick’ning, and make
The like soft music.
ANTONIO.
That we may imitate the loving palms,
393
Best emblem of a peaceful marriage,
394
That nev’r bore fruit divided.
395
DUCHESS.
What can the Church force more?
396
ANTONIO.
That Fortune may not know an accident
397
Either of joy or sorrow, to divide
398
Our fixèd wishes.
399
DUCHESS.
How can the church build faster?
400
We now are man and wife, and ’tis the Church
401
That must but echo this. Maid, stand apart.
402
I now am blind.
403
ANTONIO.
What’s your conceit in this?
DUCHESS.
I would have you lead your fortune by the hand,
404
Unto your marriage bed:
405
((You speak in me this, for we now are one))
We’ll only lie, and talk together, and plot
406
T’appease my humorous kindred; and, if you please,
407
Like the old tale, in Alexander and Lodowick ,
408
Lay a naked sword between us, keep us chaste.
409
Oh, let me shroud my blushes in your bosom,
410
Since ’tis the treasury of all my secrets.
411
CARIOLA.
Whether the spirit of greatness, or of woman
412
Reign most in her, I know not, but it shows
413
A fearful madness: I owe her much of pity.
414
(Exeunt.)
Act II
Scene i
([Enter Bosola and Castruchio.])
BOSOLA.
You say you would fain be taken for an eminent courtier?
CASTRUCHIO.
‘Tis the very main of my ambition.
BOSOLA.
Let me see, you have a reasonable good face for’t already, and your nightcap expresses your ears sufficient largely; I would have you learn to twirl the strings of your band with a good grace; and in a set speech, at th’ end of every sentence, to hum, three or four times, or blow your nose, till it smart again, to recover your memory. When you come to be a president in criminal causes, if you smile upon a prisoner, hang him, but if you frown upon him, and threaten him, let him be sure to scape the gallows.
CASTRUCHIO.
I would be a very merry president,―
BOSOLA.
Do not sup a nights; ’twill beget you an admirable wit.
CASTRUCHIO.
Rather it would make me have a good stomach to quarrel, for they say your roaring boys eat meat seldom, and that makes them so valiant: but how shall I know whether the people take me for an eminent fellow?
BOSOLA.
I will teach a trick to know it: give out you lie a- dying, and if you hear the common people curse you, be sure you are taken for one of the prime nightcaps. [Enter Old Lady] You come from painting now?
OLD LADY.
From what?
BOSOLA.
Why, from your scurvy face physic: To behold thee not painted inclines somewhat near a miracle. These in thy face here, were deep ruts and foul sloughs, the last progress. There was a lady in France, that having had the smallpox, flayed the skin off her face, to make it more level; and whereas before she looked like a nutmeg grater, after she resembled an abortive hedgehog.
OLD LADY.
Do you call this painting?
BOSOLA.
No, no but you call it careening of an old mor- phewed lady, to make her disembogue again. There’s rough- cast phrase to your plastic.
OLD LADY.
It seems you are well acquainted with my closet?
BOSOLA.
One would suspect it for a shop of witchcraft, to find in it the fat of serpents; spawn of snakes, Jews’ spittle, and their young children’s ordure, and all these for the face. I would sooner eat a dead pigeon, taken from the soles of the feet of one sick of the plague, than kiss one of you fasting. Here are two of you, whose sin of your youth is the very patrimony of the physician, makes him renew his footcloth with the spring, and change his high-prized courtesan with the fall of the leaf: I do wonder you do not loathe yourselves. Observe my meditation now:
What thing is in this outward form of man
48
To be beloved? We account it ominous,
49
If nature do produce a colt, or lamb,
50
A fawn, or goat, in any limb resembling
51
A man; and fly from’t as a prodigy.
52
Man stands amazed to see his deformity,
53
In any other creature but himself.
54
But in our own flesh, though we bear diseases
55
Which have their true names only tane from beasts,
56
As the most ulcerous wolf, and swinish measle;
57
Though we are eaten up of lice, and worms,
58
And though continually we bear about us
59
A rotten and dead body, we delight
60
To hide it in rich tissue: all our fear,
61
Nay, all our terror, is lest our physician
62
Should put us in the ground, to be made sweet,
63
Your wife’s gone to Rome: you two couple, and get you
64
To the wells at Lucca, to recover your aches.
65
([Exeunt Castruchio and Old Lady.])
I have other work on foot: I observe our Duchess
66
Is sick a-days, she pukes, her stomach seethes,
67
The fins of her eyelids look most teeming blue,
68
She wanes i’th’ cheek, and waxes fat i’th’ flank;
69
And, contrary to our Italian fashion,
70
Wears a loose-bodied gown: there’s somewhat in’t.
71
I have a trick, may chance discover it,
72
A pretty one; I have bought some apricocks,
73
The first our spring yields.
74
([Enter Antonio and Delio])
DELIO.
And so long since married?
You amaze me.
75
ANTONIO.
Let me seal your lips for ever,
For did I think that anything but th’ air
76
Could carry these words from you, I should wish
77
You had no breath at all.
78
[To Bosola] Now sir, in your contemplation?
You are studying to become a great wise fellow?
79
BOSOLA.
Oh sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul tetter, that runs all over a man’s body: if simplicity direct us to have no evil, it directs us to a happy being. For the subtlest folly proceeds from the subtlest wisdom. Let me be simply honest.
ANTONIO.
I do understand your inside.
BOSOLA.
Do you so?
ANTONIO.
Because you would not seem to appear to th’ world
87
Puffed up with your preferment, you continue
88
This out of fashion melancholy; leave it, leave it.
89
BOSOLA.
Give me leave to be honest in any phrase, in any compliment whatsoever: shall I confess myself to you? I look no higher than I can reach: they are the gods, that must ride on winged horses, a lawyer’s mule of a slow pace will both suit my disposition and business. For, mark me, when a man’s mind rides faster than his horse can gallop they quickly both tire.
ANTONIO.
You would look up to Heaven, but I think
97
The devil, that rules i’th’ air, stands in your light.
98
BOSOLA.
Oh, sir, you are lord of the ascendant, chief man with the Duchess: a duke was your cousin-german, removed. Say you were lineally descended from King Pippin, or he himself, what of this? Search the heads of the greatest rivers in the world, you shall find them but bubbles of water. Some would think the souls of princes were brought forth by some more weighty cause, than those of meaner persons; they are deceived, there’s the same hand to them: the like passions sway them: the same reason, that makes a vicar go to law for a tithe-pig, and undo his neigh- bours, makes them spoil a whole province, and batter down goodly cities with the cannon.
([Enter Duchess, Old Lady, Ladies.])
DUCHESS.
Your arm Antonio, do I not grow fat?
111
I am exceeding short-winded. Bosola,
112
I would have you, sir, provide for me a litter,
113
Such a one, as the Duchess of Florence rode in.
114
BOSOLA.
The duchess used one, when she was great with child.
115
DUCHESS.
I think she did. Come hither, mend my ruff,
116
Here; when? thou art such a tedious lady; and
117
Thy breath smells of lemon peels; would thou hadst done;
118
Shall I sound under thy fingers? I am
119
So troubled with the mother.
120
BOSOLA.
I fear too much.
DUCHESS.
I have heard you say that the French courtiers
121
Wear their hats on ’fore the king.
122
ANTONIO.
I have seen it.
123
DUCHESS.
In the presence?
ANTONIO.
Yes:
DUCHESS.
Why should not we bring up that fashion?
124
’Tis ceremony more than duty, that consists
125
In the removing of a piece of felt:
126
Be you the example to the rest o’th’ court,
127
Put on your hat first.
128
ANTONIO.
You must pardon me:
I have seen, in colder countries than in France,
129
Nobles stand bare to th’ prince; and the distinction
130
Methought showed reverently.
131
BOSOLA.
I have a present for your Grace.
DUCHESS.
For me, sir?
132
BOSOLA.
Apricocks, Madam.
DUCHESS.
Oh sir, where are they?
I have heard of none to-year.
133
BOSOLA.
Good, her colour rises.
DUCHESS.
Indeed I thank you: they are wondrous fair ones.
134
What an unskilful fellow is our gardener!
135
We shall have none this month.
136
BOSOLA.
Will not your Grace pare them?
137
DUCHESS.
No, they taste of musk, methinks; indeed they do.
138
BOSOLA.
I know not: yet I wish your Grace had pared ’em.
139
DUCHESS.
Why?
140
BOSOLA.
I forget to tell you the knave gard’ner,
Only to raise his profit by them the sooner,
141
Did ripen them in horse-dung.
142
DUCHESS.
Oh you jest.
[to Antonio] You shall judge: pray taste one.
143
ANTONIO.
Indeed Madam,
I do not love the fruit.
144
DUCHESS.
Sir, you are loath
To rob us of our dainties: ’tis a delicate fruit,
145
They say they are restorative?
146
BOSOLA.
’Tis a pretty art,
147
This grafting.
DUCHESS.
’Tis so: a bett’ring of nature.
BOSOLA.
To make a pippin grow upon a crab,
148
A damson on a black-thorn:
149
How greedily she eats them!
A whirlwind strike off these bawd farthingales,
150
For, but for that, and the loose-bodied gown,
151
I should have discovered apparently
152
The young springal cutting a caper in her belly.
153
DUCHESS.
I thank you, Bosola: they were right good ones,
154
If they do not make me sick.
155
ANTONIO.
How now Madam?
DUCHESS.
This green fruit: and my stomach are not friends.
156
How they swell me!
157
BOSOLA
Nay, you are too much swelled already.
DUCHESS.
Oh, I am in an extreme cold sweat.
158
BOSOLA.
I am very sorry.
([Exit])
DUCHESS.
Lights to my chamber! O, good Antonio,
159
I fear I am undone.
160
(Exit Duchess.)
DELIO.
Lights there, lights!
ANTONIO.
O my most trusty Delio, we are lost:
161
I fear she’s fall’n in labour: and there’s left
162
No time for her remove.
163
DELIO.
Have you prepared
Those ladies to attend her? and procured
164
That politic safe conveyance for the midwife
165
Your duchess plotted?
166
ANTONIO.
I have.
DELIO.
Make use then of this forced occasion:
167
Give out that Bosola hath poisoned her,
168
With these apricocks: that will give some colour
169
For her keeping close.
170
ANTONIO.
Fie, fie, the physicians
Will then flock to her.
171
DELIO.
For that you may pretend
She’ll use some prepared antidote of her own,
172
Lest the physicians should repoison her.
173
ANTONIO.
I am lost in amazement: I know not what to think on’t.
174
(Ex[eunt].)
Scene ii
([Enter Bosola and Old Lady])
BOSOLA.
So, so: there’s no question but her tetchiness and most vulturous eating of the apricots, are apparent signs of breeding, now?
OLD LADY.
I am in haste, sir.
BOSOLA.
There was a young waiting-woman, had a monstrous desire to see the glass-house―
OLD LADY.
Nay, pray let me go:
BOSOLA.
And it was only to know what strange instrument it was, should swell up a glass to the fashion of a woman’s belly.
OLD LADY.
I will hear no more of the glass-house, you are still abusing women?
BOSOLA.
Who, I? no, only, by the way now and then, mention your frailties. The orange tree bears ripe and green fruit and blossoms altogether. And some of you give entertainment for pure love: but more, for more precious reward. The lusty spring smells well: but drooping autumn tastes well. If we have the same golden showers, that rained in the time of Jupiter the Thunderer: you have the same Danaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them: didst thou never study the mathematics?
OLD LADY.
What’s that, sir?
BOSOLA.
Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in one centre. Go, go; give your foster-daughters good counsel: tell them, that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman’s girdle, like a false rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes.
([Exit Old Lady; enter Antonio, Delio, Roderigo, Grisolan.])
ANTONIO.
Shut up the court gates.
28
RODERIGO.
Why sir? what’s the danger?
29
ANTONIO.
Shut up the posterns presently: and call
30
All the officers o’th’ court.
31
GRISOLAN.
I shall instantly.
([Exit.)
ANTONIO.
Who keeps the key o’th’ park-gate?
32
RODERIGO.
Forobosco.
33
ANTONIO.
Let him bring’t presently.
([Exit Roderigo.)
([Enter servants, Grisolan, Roderigo.])
1 SERVANT.
Oh, gentlemen o’th’ court, the foulest treason!
34
BOSOLA
If that these apricocks should be poisoned, now;
35
Without my knowledge!
36
1 SERVANT.
There was taken even now
A Switzer in the Duchess’ bedchamber.
37
2 SERVANT.
A Switzer?
38
1 SERVANT.
With a pistol in his great cod-piece.
BOSOLA.
Ha, ha, ha.
39
1 SERVANT.
The cod-piece was the case for’t.
40
2 SERVANT.
There was a cunning traitor.
41
Who would have searched his cod-piece?
42
1 SERVANT.
True, if he had kept out of the ladies’ chambers:
43
And all the molds of his buttons were leaden bullets.
44
2 SERVANT.
Oh wicked cannibal: a fire-lock in’s cod-piece?
45
1 SERVANT.
’ Twas a French plot upon my life.
46
2 SERVANT.
To see what the devil can do!
47
ANTONIO.
All the officers here?
48
SERVANTS.
We are.
ANTONIO.
Gentlemen,
We have lost much plate you know; and but this evening
49
Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats
50
Are missing in the Duchess’ cabinet.
51
Are the gates shut?
52
1 SERVANT.
Yes.
ANTONIO.
’Tis the Duchess’ pleasure
Each officer be locked into his chamber
53
Till the sun-rising; and to send the keys
54
Of all their chests, and of their outward doors
55
Into her bedchamber. She is very sick.
56
RODERIGO.
At her pleasure.
57
ANTONIO.
She entreats you take’t not ill. The innocent
58
Shall be the more approved by it.
59
BOSOLA.
Gentleman o’th’ wood-yard, where’s your Switzer now?
60
1 SERVANT.
By this hand ’twas credibly reported by one o’th’ black-guard.
([Exeunt Bosola, Roderigo and Servants.])
DELIO.
How fares it with the Duchess?
63
ANTONIO.
She’s exposed
Unto the worst of torture, pain, and fear.
64
DELIO.
Speak to her all happy comfort.
65
ANTONIO.
How I do play the fool with mine own danger!
66
You are this night, dear friend, to post to Rome,
67
My life lies in your service.
68
DELIO.
Do not doubt me.
ANTONIO.
Oh, ’tis far from me: and yet fear presents me
69
Somewhat that looks like danger.
70
DELIO.
Believe it,
’Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more:
71
How superstitiously we mind our evils!
72
The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare;
73
Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse:
74
Or singing of a cricket, are of power
75
To daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well:
76
I wish you all the joys of a blessed father;
77
And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast,
78
Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
79
([Exit Delio.])
([Enter Cariola with a child.])
CARIOLA.
Sir, you are the happy father of a son,
80
Your wife commends him to you.
81
ANTONIO.
Bless’d comfort!
For heaven’ sake tend her well: I’ll presently
82
Go set a figure for’s nativity.
83
(Exeunt.)
Scene iii
([Enter Bosola with a dark lanthorn.])
BOSOLA.
Sure I did hear a woman shriek: list, Ha?
1
And the sound came, if I received it right,
2
From the Duchess’ lodgings: there’s some stratagem
3
In the confining all our courtiers
4
To their several wards. I must have part of it,
5
My intelligence will freeze else. List again,
6
It may be ’twas the melancholy bird,
7
Best friend of silence, and of solitariness,
8
The owl, that screamed so: ha! Antonio?
9
([Enter Antonio with a candle, his sword drawn.])
ANTONIO.
I heard some noise: who’s there? What art thou? Speak.
10
BOSOLA.
Antonio! Put not your face nor body
11
To such a forced expression of fear,
12
I am Bosola; your friend.
13
ANTONIO.
Bosola?
This mole does undermine me― heard you not
14
A noise even now?
15
BOSOLA.
From whence?
ANTONIO.
From the Duchess’ lodging.
16
BOSOLA.
Not I: did you?
ANTONIO.
I did: or else I dreamed.
17
BOSOLA.
Let’s walk towards it.
ANTONIO.
No. It may be ’twas
But the rising of the wind.
18
BOSOLA.
Very likely.
Methinks ’tis very cold, and yet you sweat.
19
You look wildly.
20
ANTONIO.
I have been setting a figure
For the Duchess’ jewels.
21
BOSOLA.
Ah: and how falls your question?
Do you find it radical?
22
ANTONIO.
What’s that to you?
’Tis rather to be questioned what design,
23
When all men were commanded to their lodgings,
24
Makes you a night-walker.
25
BOSOLA.
In sooth I’ll tell you:
Now all the court’s asleep, I thought the devil
26
Had least to do here; I came to say my prayers,
27
And if it do offend you, I do so,
28
You are a fine courtier.
29
ANTONIO
This fellow will undo me.
You gave the Duchess apricocks to-day,
30
Pray heaven they were not poisoned!
31
BOSOLA.
Poisoned? a Spanish fig
For the imputation!
32
ANTONIO.
Traitors are ever confident,
Till they are discovered. There were jewels stol’n too,
33
In my conceit, none are to be suspected
34
More than yourself.
35
BOSOLA.
You are a false steward.
ANTONIO.
Saucy slave! I’ll pull thee up by the roots.
36
BOSOLA.
May be the ruin will crush you to pieces.
37
ANTONIO.
You are an impudent snake indeed, sir,
38
Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?
39
BOSOLA.
…
40
ANTONIO.
You libel well, sir.
41
BOSOLA.
No, sir, copy it out:
And I will set my hand to’t.
42
ANTONIO.
My nose bleeds.
One that were superstitious, would count
43
This ominous: when it merely comes by chance.
44
Two letters, that are wrought here for my name
45
Are drowned in blood!
46
Mere accident: for you, sir, I'll take order:
47
I’th’ morn you shall be safe:
48
’tis that must colour
Her lying-in: sir, this door you pass not:
49
I do not hold it fit, that you come near
50
The Duchess’ lodgings, till you have quit yourself;
51
The great are like the base; nay, they are the same ,
52
When they seek shameful ways to avoid shame .
53
(Ex[it.])
BOSOLA.
Antonio hereabout did drop a paper,
54
Some of your help, false friend: oh, here it is.
55
What’s here? a child’s nativity calculated?
56
[reads:] The Duchess was delivered of a son, ’tween the hours twelve and one, in the night: Anno Dom: 1504. (that’s this year) decimo nono Decembris (that’s this night) taken according to the Meridian of Malfi (that’s our Duchess: happy discovery). The Lord of the first house, being combust in the ascendant, signifies short life: and Mars being in a human sign, joined to the tail of the Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a violent death ; Cætera non scrutantur.
Why now ’tis most apparent. This precise fellow
65
Is the Duchess’ bawd: I have it to my wish.
66
This is a parcel of intelligency
67
Our courtiers were cased up for! It needs must follow,
68
That I must be committed, on pretence
69
Of poisoning her: which I’ll endure, and laugh at.
70
If one could find the father now: but that
71
Time will discover. Old Castruchio
72
I’th’ morning posts to Rome; by him I’ll send
73
A letter, that shall make her brothers’ galls
74
O’erflow their livers. This was a thrifty way!
75
Though lust do masque in ne’er so strange disguise
76
She’s oft found witty, but is never wise .
77
([Exit.])
Scene iv
([Enter Cardinal and Julia.])
CARDINAL.
Sit: thou art my best of wishes; prithee tell me
1
What trick didst thou invent to come to Rome,
2
Without thy husband?
3
JULIA.
Why, my Lord, I told him
I came to visit an old anchorite
4
Here, for devotion.
5
CARDINAL.
Thou art a witty false one:
I mean to him.
6
JULIA.
You have prevailed with me
Beyond my strongest thoughts: I would not now
7
Find you inconstant.
8
CARDINAL.
Do not put thyself
To such a voluntary torture, which proceeds
9
Out of your own guilt.
10
JULIA.
How, my Lord?
CARDINAL.
You fear
My constancy, because you have approved
11
Those giddy and wild turnings in yourself.
12
JULIA.
Did you e’er find them?
13
CARDINAL.
Sooth, generally for women;
A man might strive to make glass malleable,
14
Ere he should make them fixed.
15
JULIA.
So, my Lord.
CARDINAL.
We had need go borrow that fantastic glass
16
Invented by Galileo the Florentine,
17
To view another spacious world i’th’ moon,
18
And look to find a constant woman there.
19
JULIA.
This is very well, my Lord.
20
CARDINAL.
Why do you weep?
Are tears your justification? The selfsame tears
21
Will fall into your husband’s bosom, lady,
22
With a loud protestation that you love him
23
Above the world. Come, I’ll love you wisely,
24
That’s jealously, since I am very certain
25
You cannot me make cuckold.
26
JULIA.
I’ll go home
To my husband.
27
CARDINAL.
You may thank me, lady,
I have taken you off your melancholy perch,
28
Bore you upon my fist, and showed you game,
29
And let you fly at it. I pray thee kiss me.
30
When thou wast with thy husband, thou wast watched
31
Like a tame elephant: (still you are to thank me.)
32
Thou hadst only kisses from him, and high feeding,
33
But what delight was that? ’Twas just like one
34
That hath a little fing’ring on the lute,
35
Yet cannot tune it: (still you are to thank me.)
36
JULIA.
You told me of a piteous wound i’th’ heart,
37
And a sick liver, when you wooed me first,
38
And spake like one in physic.
39
CARDINAL.
Who’s that?
([Enter Servant.])
Rest firm, for my affection to thee,
40
Lightning moves slow to’t.
41
SERVANT.
Madam, a gentleman
That’s come post from Malfi, desires to see you.
42
CARDINAL.
Let him enter, I’ll withdraw.
43
(Exit.)
SERVANT.
He says
Your husband, old Castruchio, is come to Rome,
44
Most pitifully tired with riding post.
45
([Exit Servant; enter Delio.])
JULIA.
Signor Delio!
’tis one of my old suitors.
46
DELIO.
I was bold to come and see you.
47
JULIA.
Sir, you are welcome.
DELIO.
Do you lie here?
48
JULIA.
Sure, your own experience
Will satisfy you no; our Roman prelates
49
Do not keep lodging for ladies.
50
DELIO.
Very well.
I have brought you no commendations from your husband,
51
For I know none by him.
52
JULIA.
I hear he’s come to Rome?
DELIO.
I never knew man and beast, of a horse and a knight,
53
So weary of each other; if he had had a good back,
54
He would have undertook to have borne his horse,
55
His breech was so pitifully sore.
56
JULIA.
Your laughter
Is my pity.
57
DELIO.
Lady, I know not whether
You want money, but I have brought you some.
58
JULIA.
From my husband?
59
DELIO.
No, from mine own allowance.
JULIA.
I must hear the condition, ere I be bound to take it.
60
DELIO.
Look on’t, ’tis gold, hath it not a fine colour?
61
JULIA.
I have a bird more beautiful.
62
DELIO.
Try the sound on’t.
JULIA.
A lute string far exceeds it;
63
It hath no smell, like cassia or civet,
64
Nor is it physical, though some fond doctors
65
Persuade us, seethe’t in cullises. I’ll tell you,
66
This is a creature bred by—
67
([Enter Servant.])
SERVANT.
Your husband’s come,
Hath delivered a letter to the Duke of Calabria,
68
That, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits.
69
([Exit Servant.])
JULIA.
Sir, you hear,
70
Pray let me know your business and your suit,
71
As briefly as can be.
72
DELIO.
With good speed. I would wish you,
At such time, as you are non-resident
73
With your husband, my mistress.
74
JULIA.
Sir, I’ll go ask my husband if I shall,
75
And straight return your answer.
76
(Exit.)
DELIO.
Very fine,
Is this her wit, or honesty that speaks thus?
77
I heard one say the Duke was highly moved
78
With a letter sent from Malfi. I do fear
79
Antonio is betrayed: how fearfully
80
Shows his ambition now; unfortunate Fortune!
81
They pass through whirlpools, and deep woes do shun,
82
Who the event weigh, ere the action’s done .
83
(Exit.)
Scene v
([Enter] Cardinal, and Ferdinand, with a letter.)
FERDINAND.
I have this night digged up a mandrake.
1
CARDINAL.
Say you?
FERDINAND.
And I am grown mad with’t.
2
CARDINAL.
What’s the prodigy?
FERDINAND.
Read there, a sister damned, she’s loose i’th’hilts:
3
Grown a notorious strumpet.
4
CARDINAL.
Speak lower.
FERDINAND.
Lower?
Rogues do not whisper’t now, but seek to publish’t,
5
As servants do the bounty of their lords,
6
Aloud; and with a covetous searching eye,
7
To mark who note them. Oh confusion seize her,
8
She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her turn,
9
And more secure conveyances for lust,
10
Than towns of garrison, for service.
11
CARDINAL.
Is’t possible?
Can this be certain?
12
FERDINAND.
Rhubarb, oh for rhubarb
To purge this choler; here’s the cursed day
13
To prompt my memory, and here’t shall stick
14
Till of her bleeding heart I make a sponge
15
To wipe it out.
16
CARDINAL.
Why do you make yourself
So wild a tempest?
17
FERDINAND.
Would I could be one,
That I might toss her palace ’bout her ears,
18
Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads,
19
And lay her general territory as waste,
20
As she hath done her honour’s.
21
CARDINAL.
Shall our blood?
The royal blood of Aragon and Castile,
22
Be thus attainted?
23
FERDINAND.
Apply desperate physic,
We must not now use balsamum, but fire,
24
The smarting cupping-glass, for that’s the mean
25
To purge infected blood, such blood as hers.
26
There is a kind of pity in mine eye,
27
I’ll give it to my handkercher; and, now ’tis here,
28
I’ll bequeath this to her bastard.
29
CARDINAL.
What to do?
FERDINAND.
Why, to make soft lint for his mother’s wounds,
30
When I have hewed her to pieces.
31
CARDINAL.
Cursed creature!
Unequal Nature, to place women’s hearts
32
So far upon the left side.
33
FERDINAND.
Foolish men,
That e’er will trust their honour in a bark,
34
Made of so slight, weak bulrush, as is woman,
35
Apt every minute to sink it!
36
CARDINAL.
Thus ignorance, when it hath purchased honour,
37
It cannot wield it.
38
FERDINAND.
Methinks I see her laughing,
Excellent hyena! Talk to me somewhat, quickly,
39
Or my imagination will carry me
40
To see her in the shameful act of sin.
41
CARDINAL.
With whom?
42
FERDINAND.
Happily, with some strong-thighed bargeman;
43
Or one o’th’ wood-yard, that can quoit the sledge
44
Or toss the bar, or else some lovely squire
45
That carries coals up to her privy lodgings.
46
CARDINAL.
You fly beyond your reason.
47
FERDINAND.
Go to, mistress!
’Tis not your whore’s milk, that shall quench my wild-fire
48
But your whore’s blood.
49
CARDINAL.
How idly shows this rage! which carries you,
50
As men conveyed by witches, through the air
51
On violent whirlwinds: this intemperate noise
52
Fitly resembles deaf men’s shrill discourse,
53
Who talk aloud, thinking all other men
54
To have their imperfection.
55
FERDINAND.
Have not you
My palsy?
56
CARDINAL.
Yes, I can be angry
Without this rupture; there is not in nature
57
A thing, that makes man so deformed, so beastly
58
As doth intemperate anger; chide yourself:
59
You have divers men, who never yet expressed
60
Their strong desire of rest but by unrest,
61
By vexing of themselves. Come, put yourself
62
In tune.
63
FERDINAND.
So, I will only study to seem
The thing I am not. I could kill her now,
64
In you, or in myself, for I do think
65
It is some sin in us, Heaven doth revenge
66
By her.
67
CARDINAL.
Are you stark mad?
FERDINAND.
I would have their bodies
Burnt in a coal-pit, with the ventage stopped,
68
That their cursed smoke might not ascend to Heaven:
69
Or dip the sheets they lie in, in pitch or sulphur,
70
Wrap them in’t, and then light them like a match:
71
Or else to boil their bastard to a cullis,
72
And give’t his lecherous father, to renew
73
The sin of his back.
74
CARDINAL.
I’ll leave you.
FERDINAND.
Nay, I have done;
I am confident, had I been damned in hell,
75
And should have heard of this, it would have put me
76
Into a cold sweat. In, in, I’ll go sleep:
77
Till I know who leaps my sister, I’ll not stir:
78
That known, I’ll find scorpions to string my whips,
79
And fix her in a general eclipse.
80
(Exeunt.)
Act III
Act III, Scene i
([Enter Antonio and Delio])
ANTONIO.
Our noble friend, my most beloved Delio,
1
Oh, you have been a stranger long at court.
2
Came you along with the Lord Ferdinand?
3
DELIO.
I did, sir. And how fares your noble Duchess?
4
ANTONIO.
Right fortunately well. She’s an excellent
5
Feeder of pedigrees: since you last saw her,
6
She hath had two children more, a son and daughter.
7
DELIO.
Methinks ’twas yesterday. Let me but wink,
8
And not behold your face, which to mine eye
9
Is somewhat leaner: verily I should dream
10
It were within this half hour.
11
ANTONIO.
You have not been in law, friend Delio,
12
Nor in prison, nor a suitor at the court,
13
Nor begged the reversion of some great man’s place,
14
Nor troubled with an old wife, which doth make
15
Your time so insensibly hasten.
16
DELIO.
Pray sir tell me,
Hath not this news arrived yet to the ear
17
Of the Lord Cardinal?
18
ANTONIO.
I fear it hath.
The Lord Ferdinand, that’s newly come to court,
19
Doth bear himself right dangerously.
20
DELIO.
Pray, why?
ANTONIO.
He is so quiet, that he seems to sleep
21
The tempest out, as dormice do in winter;
22
Those houses, that are haunted, are most still,
23
Till the devil be up.
24
DELIO.
What say the common people?
ANTONIO.
The common rabble do directly say
25
She is a strumpet.
26
DELIO.
And your graver heads,
Which would be politic, what censure they?
27
ANTONIO.
They do observe I grow to infinite purchase
28
The left-hand way, and all suppose the Duchess
29
Would amend it, if she could. For, say they,
30
Great princes, though they grudge their officers
31
Should have such large and unconfined means
32
To get wealth under them, will not complain
33
Lest thereby they should make them odious
34
Unto the people: for other obligation
35
Of love, or marriage, between her and me,
36
They never dream of.
37
([Enter Ferdinand, Duchess and Bosola.])
DELIO.
The Lord Ferdinand
Is going to bed.
38
FERDINAND.
I'll instantly to bed,
For I am weary: I am to bespeak
39
A husband for you.
40
DUCHESS.
For me, sir! pray who is’t?
FERDINAND.
The great Count Malateste.
41
DUCHESS.
Fie upon him,
A count? He’s a mere stick of sugar-candy,
42
You may look quite through him: when I choose
43
A husband, I will marry for your honour.
44
FERDINAND.
You shall do well in’t. How is’t, worthy Antonio?
45
DUCHESS.
But, sir, I am to have private conference with you,
46
About a scandalous report is spread
47
Touching mine honour.
48
FERDINAND.
Let me be ever deaf to’t:
One of Pasquil’s paper bullets, court calumny,
49
A pestilent air, which princes’ palaces
50
Are seldom purged of. Yet, say that it were true,
51
I pour it in your bosom, my fixed love
52
Would strongly excuse, extenuate, nay deny
53
Faults were they apparent in you. Go, be safe
54
In your own innocency.
55
DUCHESS.
Oh blessed comfort,
This deadly air is purged.
56
(Exeunt [Dutchess, Antonio, Delio.])
FERDINAND.
Her guilt treads on
Hot burning cultures. Now Bosola,
57
How thrives our intelligence?
58
BOSOLA.
Sir, uncertainly:
’Tis rumored she hath had three bastards, but
59
By whom, we may go read i’th’ stars.
60
FERDINAND.
Why some
Hold opinion, all things are written there.
61
BOSOLA.
Yes, if we could find spectacles to read them;
62
I do suspect, there hath been some sorcery
63
Used on the Duchess.
64
FERDINAND.
Sorcery, to what purpose?
BOSOLA.
To make her dote on some desertless fellow,
65
She shames to acknowledge.
66
FERDINAND.
Can your faith give way
To think there’s power in potions, or in charms,
67
To make us love, whether we will or no?
68
BOSOLA.
Most certainly.
69
FERDINAND.
Away, these are mere gulleries, horrid things
70
Invented by some cheating mountebanks
71
To abuse us. Do you think that herbs, or charms
72
Can force the will? Some trials have been made
73
In this foolish practice; but the ingredients
74
Were lenitive poisons, such as are of force
75
To make the patient mad; and straight the witch
76
Swears, by equivocation, they are in love.
77
The witchcraft lies in her rank blood: this night
78
I will force confession from her. You told me
79
You had got, within these two days, a false key
80
Into her bed-chamber.
81
BOSOLA.
I have.
FERDINAND.
As I would wish.
82
BOSOLA.
What do you intend to do?
FERDINAND.
Can you guess?
83
BOSOLA.
No.
FERDINAND.
Do not ask then.
He that can compass me, and know my drifts,
84
May say he hath put a girdle ’bout the world,
85
And sounded all her quick-sands.
86
BOSOLA.
I do not
Think so.
87
FERDINAND.
What do you think then, pray?
BOSOLA.
That you
Are your own chronicle too much: and grossly
88
Flatter yourself.
89
FERDINAND.
Give me thy hand; I thank thee.
I never gave pension but to flatterers,
90
Till I entertained thee: farewell,
91
That friend a great man’s ruin strongly checks,
92
Who rails into his belief all his defects.
93
(Exeunt.)
Scene ii
([Enter Duchess, Antonio and Cariola])
DUCHESS.
Bring me the casket hither, and the glass;
1
You get no lodging here to-night, my lord.
2
ANTONIO.
Indeed, I must persuade one.
3
DUCHESS.
Very good:
I hope in time ’twill grow into a custom,
4
That noblemen shall come with cap and knee,
5
To purchase a night's lodging of their wives.
6
ANTONIO.
I must lie here.
7
DUCHESS.
Must? you are a Lord of mis-rule.
ANTONIO.
Indeed, my rule is only in the night.
8
DUCHESS.
To what use will you put me?
9
ANTONIO.
We'll sleep together.
DUCHESS.
Alas, what pleasure can two lovers find in sleep?
10
CARIOLA.
My Lord, I lie with her often: and I know
11
She’ll much disquiet you.
12
ANTONIO.
See, you are complained of.
CARIOLA.
For she’s the sprawling’st bedfellow.
13
ANTONIO.
I shall like her the better for that.
14
CARIOLA.
Sir, shall I ask you a question?
15
ANTONIO.
I pray thee Cariola.
16
CARIOLA.
Wherefore still, when you lie with my lady
17
Do you rise so early?
18
ANTONIO.
Labouring men,
Count the clock oft’nest Cariola,
19
Are glad when their task’s ended.
20
DUCHESS.
I’ll stop your mouth
([kisses him].)
([She kisses him.])
ANTONIO.
Nay, that’s but one, Venus had two soft doves
21
To draw her chariot: I must have another
22
[kisses her]. When wilt thou marry, Cariola?
23
CARIOLA.
Never, my lord.
ANTONIO.
O fie upon this single life: forgo it.
24
We read how Daphne, for her peevish flight
25
Became a fruitless bay-tree; Sirinx turned
26
To the pale empty reed; Anaxarete
27
Was frozen into marble: whereas those
28
Which married, or proved kind unto their friends
29
Were, by a gracious influence, transhaped
30
Into the olive, pomegranate, mulberry:
31
Became flowers, precious stones, or eminent stars.
32
CARIOLA.
This is a vain poetry: but I pray you tell me,
33
If there were proposed me wisdom, riches, and beauty,
34
In three several young men, which should I choose?
35
ANTONIO.
’Tis a hard question. This was Paris’ case
36
And he was blind in’t, and there was great cause:
37
For how was’t possible he could judge right,
38
Having three amorous goddesses in view,
39
And they stark naked? ’Twas a motion
40
Were able to benight the apprehension
41
Of the severest counsellor of Europe.
42
Now I look on both your faces, so well formed
43
It puts me in mind of a question, I would ask.
44
CARIOLA.
What is’t?
45
ANTONIO.
I do wonder why hard favoured ladies
For the most part, keep worse-favoured waiting-women,
46
To attend them, and cannot endure fair ones.
47
DUCHESS.
Oh, that’s soon answered.
48
Did you ever in your life know an ill painter
49
Desire to have his dwelling next door to the shop
50
Of an excellent picture-maker? ’Twould disgrace
51
His face-making, and undo him. I prithee
52
When were we so merry? My hair tangles.
53
ANTONIO
Pray thee, Cariola, let’s steal forth the room,
54
And let her talk to herself: I have divers times
55
Served her the like, when she hath chafed extremely.
56
I love to see her angry: softly Cariola.
57
(Exeunt [Antonio and Cariola.])
DUCHESS.
Doth not the colour of my hair ’gin to change?
58
When I wax gray, I shall have all the court
59
Powder their hair with arras, to be like me:
60
You have cause to love me, I ent’red you into my heart.
61
[Enter Ferdinand, unseen.] Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys.
62
We shall one day have my brothers take you napping.
63
Methinks his presence, being now in court,
64
Should make you keep your own bed: but you’ll say
65
Love mixed with fear is sweetest. I’ll assure you
66
You shall get no more children till my brothers
67
Consent to be your gossips. Have you lost your tongue?
68
[She sees Ferdinand holding a poniard.] ’Tis welcome:
69
For know, whether I am doomed to live, or die,
70
I can do both like a prince.
71
(Ferdinand gives her a poniard.)
FERDINAND.
Die then, quickly.
Virtue, where art thou hid? What hideous thing
72
Is it, that doth eclipse thee?
73
DUCHESS.
Pray sir hear me―
FERDINAND.
Or is it true, thou art but a bare name,
74
And no essential thing?
75
DUCHESS.
Sir—
FERDINAND.
Do not speak.
76
DUCHESS.
No, sir:
I will plant my soul in mine ears, to hear you.
77
FERDINAND.
Oh most imperfect light of human reason,
78
That mak’st us so unhappy, to foresee
79
What we can least prevent. Pursue thy wishes:
80
And glory in them: there’s in shame no comfort,
81
But to be past all bounds and sense of shame.
82
DUCHESS.
I pray sir, hear me: I am married―
83
FERDINAND.
So.
DUCHESS.
Happily, not to your liking: but for that
84
Alas: your shears do come untimely now
85
To clip the bird’s wings, that’s already flown.
86
Will you see my husband?
87
FERDINAND.
Yes, if I could change
Eyes with a basilisk.
88
DUCHESS.
Sure, you came hither
By his confederacy.
89
FERDINAND.
The howling of a wolf
Is music to thee, screech-owl; prithee peace.
90
Whate’er thou art, that hast enjoyed my sister,
91
(For I am sure thou hear’st me), for thine own sake
92
Let me not know thee. I came hither prepared
93
To work thy discovery: yet am now persuaded
94
It would beget such violent effects
95
As would damn us both. I would not for ten millions
96
I had beheld thee; therefore use all means
97
I never may have knowledge of thy name;
98
Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life,
99
On that condition. And for thee, vild woman,
100
If thou do wish thy lecher may grow old
101
In thy embracements, I would have thee build
102
Such a room for him, as our anchorites
103
To holier use inhabit. Let not the sun
104
Shine on him, till he’s dead. Let dogs and monkeys
105
Only converse with him, and such dumb things
106
To whom nature denies use to sound his name.
107
Do not keep a paraquito, lest she learn it;
108
If thou do love him, cut out thine own tongue
109
Lest it bewray him.
110
DUCHESS.
Why might not I marry?
I have not gone about, in this, to create
111
Any new world, or custom.
112
FERDINAND.
Thou art undone:
And thou hast tane that massy sheet of lead
113
That hid thy husband’s bones, and folded it
114
About my heart.
115
DUCHESS.
Mine bleeds for’t.
FERDINAND.
Thine? thy heart?
What should I name’t, unless a hollow bullet
116
Filled with unquenchable wild-fire?
117
DUCHESS.
You are in this
Too strict: and were you not my princely brother
118
I would say too willful. My reputation
119
Is safe.
120
FERDINAND.
Dost thou know what reputation is?
121
I’ll tell thee, to small purpose, since th’instruction
122
Comes now too late:
123
Upon a time Reputation, Love, and Death
124
Would travel o’er the world: and it was concluded
125
That they should part, and take three several ways.
126
Death told them, they should find him in great battles:
127
Or cities plagued with plagues. Love gives them counsel
128
To inquire for him ’mongst unambitious shepherds,
129
Where dowries were not talked of: and sometimes
130
’Mongst quiet kindred, that had nothing left
131
By their dead parents. ‘Stay’, quoth Reputation,
132
‘Do not forsake me: for it is my nature
133
If once I part from any man I meet
134
I am never found again.’ And so, for you:
135
You have shook hands with Reputation,
136
And made him invisible. So fare you well.
137
I will never see you more.
138
DUCHESS.
Why should only I,
Of all the other princes of the world
139
Be cased up, like a holy relic? I have youth,
140
And a little beauty.
141
FERDINAND.
So you have some virgins,
That are witches. I will never see thee more.
142
(Exit.)
(Enter [Cariola and] Antonio with a pistol.)
DUCHESS.
You saw this apparition?
143
ANTONIO.
Yes: we are
Betrayed; how came he hither? I should turn
144
This, to thee, for that.
145
([points the pistol at Cariola.])
CARIOLA.
Pray sir do: and when
That you have cleft my heart, you shall read there,
146
Mine innocence.
147
DUCHESS.
That gallery gave him entrance.
ANTONIO.
I would this terrible thing would come again,
148
That, standing on my guard, I might relate
149
My warrantable love. Ha! what means this?
150
DUCHESS.
He left this with me.
151
(She shows the poniard.)
ANTONIO.
And it seems, did wish
You would use it on yourself?
152
DUCHESS.
His action seemed
To intend so much.
153
ANTONIO.
This hath a handle to't,
As well as a point: turn it towards him, and
154
So fasten the keen edge in his rank gall. [knocking]
155
How now? Who knocks? More earthquakes?
156
DUCHESS.
I stand
As if a mine, beneath my feet, were ready
157
To be blown up.
158
CARIOLA.
'Tis Bosola.
DUCHESS.
Away!
Oh misery! Methinks unjust actions
159
Should wear these masks and curtains; and not we.
160
You must instantly part hence: I have fashioned it already.
161
(Ex[it] Ant[onio; enter Bosola.])
BOSOLA.
The Duke your brother is tane up in a whirlwind;
162
Hath took horse, and’s rid post to Rome.
163
DUCHESS.
So late?
BOSOLA.
He told me, as he mounted into th’ saddle,
164
You were undone.
165
DUCHESS.
Indeed, I am very near it.
BOSOLA.
What’s the matter?
166
DUCHESS.
Antonio, the master of our household
167
Hath dealt so falsely with me, in’s accounts:
168
My brother stood engaged with me for money
169
Tane up of certain Neapolitan Jews,
170
And Antonio lets the bonds be forfeit.
171
BOSOLA.
Strange:
172
this is cunning.
DUCHESS.
And hereupon
My brother’s bills at Naples are protested
173
Against. Call up our officers.
174
BOSOLA.
I shall.
(Exit.)
([Enter Antonio])
DUCHESS.
The place that you must fly to, is Ancona,
175
Hire a house there. I’ll send after you
176
My treasure, and my jewels: our weak safety
177
Runs upon enginous wheels: short syllables
178
Must stand for periods. I must now accuse you
179
Of such a feignèd crime, as Tasso calls
180
Magnanima mensogna: a noble lie,
181
’Cause it must shield our honours: hark, they are coming.
182
([Enter Bosola and officers.])
ANTONIO.
Will your Grace hear me?
183
DUCHESS.
I have got well by you: you have yielded me
184
A million of loss; I am like to inherit
185
The people’s curses for your stewardship.
186
You had the trick, in audit time to be sick,
187
Till I had signed your Quietus ; and that cured you
188
Without help of a doctor. Gentlemen,
189
I would have this man be an example to you all:
190
So shall you hold my favour. I pray let him;
191
For h’as done that, alas! you would not think of,
192
And, because I intend to be rid of him,
193
I mean not to publish. Use your fortune elsewhere.
194
ANTONIO.
I am strongly armed to brook my overthrow,
195
As commonly men bear with a hard year:
196
I will not blame the cause on’t; but do think
197
The necessity of my malevolent star
198
Procures this, not her humour. O the inconstant
199
And rotten ground of service, you may see;
200
’Tis ev’n like him that, in a winter night,
201
Takes a long slumber, o’er a dying fire
202
As loath to part from’t: yet parts thence as cold,
203
As when he first sat down.
204
DUCHESS.
We do confiscate,
Towards the satisfying of your accounts,
205
All that you have.
206
ANTONIO.
I am all yours; and ’tis very fit
All mine should be so.
207
DUCHESS.
So, sir; you have your pass.
ANTONIO.
You may see, gentlemen, what ’tis to serve
208
A prince with body and soul.
209
(Exit.)
BOSOLA.
Here’s an example for extortion; what moisture is drawn out of the sea, when foul weather comes, pours down, and runs into the sea again.
DUCHESS.
I would know what are your opinions
213
Of this Antonio.
214
2 OFFICER.
He could not abide to see a pig’s head gaping, I thought your Grace would find him a Jew:
3 OFFICER.
I would you had been his officer, for your own sake.
4 OFFICER.
You would have had more money.
1 OFFICER.
He stopped his ears with black wool: and to those came to him for money said he was thick of hearing.
2 OFFICER.
Some said he was an hermaphrodite, for he could not abide a woman.
4 OFFICER.
How scurvy proud he would look, when the treasury was full. Well, let him go.
1 OFFICER.
Yes, and the chippings of the butt’ry fly after him, to scour his gold chain.
DUCHESS.
Leave us. What do you think of these?
227
(Exeunt [Officers].)
BOSOLA.
That these are rogues, that in’s prosperity,
228
But to have waited on his fortune, could have wished
229
His dirty stirrup riveted through their noses:
230
And followed after’s mule, like a bear in a ring.
231
Would have prostituted their daughters to his lust;
232
Made their firstborn intelligencers; thought none happy
233
But such as were born under his blessed planet;
234
And wore his livery: and do these lice drop off now?
235
Well, never look to have the like again;
236
He hath left a sort of flatt’ring rogues behind him,
237
Their doom must follow. Princes pay flatterers,
238
In their own money. Flatterers dissemble their vices,
239
And they dissemble their lies, that’s justice.
240
Alas, poor gentleman―
241
DUCHESS.
Poor! He hath amply filled his coffers.
242
BOSOLA.
Sure he was too honest. Pluto the god of riches,
243
When he’s sent, by Jupiter, to any man
244
He goes limping, to signify that wealth
245
That comes on God’s name, comes slowly; but when he’s sent
246
On the devil’s errand, he rides post, and comes in by scuttles.
247
Let me show you what a most unvalued jewel
248
You have, in a wanton humour, thrown away.
249
To bless the man shall find him. He was an excellent
250
Courtier, and most faithful; a soldier that thought it
251
As beastly to know his own value too little,
252
As devilish to acknowledge it too much;
253
Both his virtue and form deserved a far better fortune:
254
His discourse rather delighted to judge itself, than show itself.
255
His breast was filled with all perfection,
256
And yet it seemed a private whisp’ring room:
257
It made so little noise of’t.
258
DUCHESS.
But he was basely descended.
BOSOLA.
Will you make yourself a mercenary herald,
259
Rather to examine men’s pedigrees, than virtues?
260
You shall want him:
261
For know an honest statesman to a prince,
262
Is like a cedar, planted by a spring,
263
The spring bathes the tree’s root, the grateful tree
264
Rewards it with his shadow: you have not done so;
265
I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes on
266
Two politicians’ rotten bladders, tied
267
Together with an intelligencer’s heart string
268
Than depend on so changeable a prince’s favour.
269
Fare thee well, Antonio, since the malice of the world
270
Would needs down with thee, it cannot be said yet
271
That any ill happened unto thee,
272
Considering thy fall was accompanied with virtue.
273
DUCHESS.
Oh, you render me excellent music.
274
BOSOLA.
Say you?
DUCHESS.
This good one that you speak of, is my husband.
275
BOSOLA.
Do I not dream? Can this ambitious age
276
Have so much goodness in’t, as to prefer
277
A man merely for worth: without these shadows
278
Of wealth, and painted honours? possible?
279
DUCHESS.
I have had three children by him.
280
BOSOLA.
Fortunate lady,
For you have made your private nuptial bed
281
The humble and fair seminary of peace.
282
No question but many an unbeneficed scholar
283
Shall pray for you, for this deed, and rejoice
284
That some preferment in the world can yet
285
Arise from merit. The virgins of your land,
286
That have no dowries, shall hope your example
287
Will raise them to rich husbands. Should you want
288
Soldiers, ’twould make the very Turks and Moors
289
Turn Christians, and serve you for this act.
290
Last, the neglected poets of your time,
291
In honour of this trophy of a man,
292
Raised by that curious engine, your white hand,
293
Shall thank you in your grave for’t; and make that
294
More reverend than all the cabinets
295
Of living princes. For Antonio,
296
His fame shall likewise flow from many a pen,
297
When heralds shall want coats, to sell to men.
298
DUCHESS.
As I taste comfort, in this friendly speech,
299
So would I find concealment―
300
BOSOLA.
Oh the secret of my prince,
Which I will wear on th’inside of my heart.
301
DUCHESS.
You shall take charge of all my coin, and jewels,
302
And follow him, for he retires himself
303
To Ancona.
304
BOSOLA.
So.
DUCHESS.
Whither, within few days,
I mean to follow thee.
305
BOSOLA.
Let me think:
I would wish your Grace to feign a pilgrimage
306
To Our Lady of Loretto, scarce seven leagues
307
From fair Ancona, so may you depart
308
Your country with more honour, and your flight
309
Will seem a princely progress, retaining
310
Your usual train about you.
311
DUCHESS.
Sir, your direction
Shall lead me, by the hand.
312
CARIOLA.
In my opinion,
She were better progress to the baths at Lucca,
313
Or go visit the Spa
314
In Germany: for, if you will believe me,
315
I do not like this jesting with religion,
316
This feigned pilgrimage.
317
DUCHESS.
Thou art a superstitious fool:
Prepare us instantly for our departure.
318
Past sorrows, let us moderately lament them,
319
For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them.
320
(Exit [Dutchess with Cariola].)
BOSOLA.
A politician is the devil’s quilted anvil,
321
He fashions all sins on him, and the blows
322
Are never heard; he may work in a lady’s chamber,
323
As here for proof. What rests, but I reveal
324
All to my lord? Oh, this base quality
325
Of intelligencer! Why, every quality i’th’ world
326
Prefers but gain, or commendation:
327
Now for this act, I am certain to be raised,
328
And men that paint weeds, to the life, are praised .
329
(Exit.)
Scene iii
([Enter] Cardinal, Ferdinand, Malateste, Pescara, Silvio, Delio.)
CARDINAL.
Must we turn soldier, then?
1
MALATESTE.
The Emperor,
Hearing your worth that way, ere you attained
2
This reverend garment, joins you in commission
3
With the right fortunate soldier, the Marquis of Pescara
4
And the famous Lannoy.
5
CARDINAL.
He that had the honour
Of taking the French king prisoner?
6
MALATESTE.
The same.
Here’s a plot drawn for a new fortification
7
At Naples.
8
FERDINAND.
This great Count Malateste, I perceive
Hath got employment?
9
DELIO.
No employment, my lord,
A marginal note in the muster book, that he is
10
A voluntary lord.
11
FERDINAND.
He’s no soldier?
DELIO.
He has worn gunpowder, in’s hollow tooth,
12
For the tooth-ache.
13
SILVIO.
He comes to the leaguer with a full intent
14
To eat fresh beef, and garlic; means to stay
15
Till the scent be gone, and straight return to court.
16
DELIO.
He hath read all the late service,
17
As the City chronicle relates it,
18
And keeps two painters going, only to express
19
Battles in model.
20
SILVIO.
Then he’ll fight by the book.
DELIO.
By the almanac, I think,
To choose good days, and shun the critical.
21
That’s his mistress’ scarf.
22
SILVIO.
Yes, he protests
He would do much for that taffeta,―
23
DELIO.
I think he would run away from a battle
24
To save it from taking prisoner.
25
SILVIO.
He is horribly afraid
Gunpowder will spoil the perfume on’t,―
26
DELIO.
I saw a Dutchman break his pate once
27
For calling him pot-gun; he made his head
28
Have a bore in’t, like a musket.
29
SILVIO.
I would he had made a touch-hole to’t.
30
He is indeed a guarded sumpter-cloth
31
Only for the remove of the court.
32
([Enter Bosola.])
PESCARA.
Bosola arrived? What should be the business?
33
Some falling out amongst the cardinals?
34
These factions amongst great men, they are like
35
Foxes, when their heads are divided:
36
They carry fire in their tails, and all the country
37
About them goes to wrack for’t.
38
SILVIO.
What’s that Bosola?
DELIO.
I knew him in Padua, a fantastical scholar, like such who study to know how many knots was in Hercules’ club; of what colour Achilles’ beard was, or whether Hector were not troubled with the toothache. He hath studied himself half blear-eyed, to know the true symmetry of Caesar’s nose by a shoeing-horn: and this he did to gain the name of a speculative man.
PESCARA.
Mark Prince Ferdinand,
46
A very salamander lives in’s eye,
47
To mock the eager violence of fire.
48
SILVIO.
That cardinal hath made more bad faces with his oppression than ever Michael Angelo made good ones: he lifts up’s nose, like a foul porpoise before a storm,―
PESCARA.
The Lord Ferdinand laughs.
52
DELIO.
Like a deadly cannon, that lightens ere it smokes.
53
PESCARA.
These are your true pangs of death,
54
The pangs of life, that struggle with great statesmen,―
55
DELIO.
In such a deformed silence, witches whisper their charms.
CARDINAL.
Doth she make religion her riding hood
58
To keep her from the sun and tempest?
59
FERDINAND.
That:
That damns her. Methinks her fault and beauty
60
Blended together, show like leprosy,
61
The whiter, the fouler. I make it a question
62
Whether her beggarly brats were ever christened.
63
CARDINAL.
I will instantly solicit the state of Ancona
64
To have them banished.
65
FERDINAND.
You are for Loretto?
I shall not be at your ceremony; fare you well:
66
Write to the Duke of Malfi, my young nephew
67
She had by her first husband, and acquaint him
68
With's mother's honesty.
69
BOSOLA.
I will.
FERDINAND.
Antonio!
A slave, that only smelled of ink and counters,
70
And nev’r in’s life looked like a gentleman,
71
But in the audit time: go, go presently,
72
Draw me out an hundred and fifty of our horse,
73
And meet me at the fort-bridge.
74
(Exeunt.)
Scene iv
([Enter] two Pilgrims to the Shrine of Our Lady of Loretto.)
1 PILGRIM.
I have not seen a goodlier shrine than this,
1
Yet I have visited many.
2
2 PILGRIM.
The Cardinal of Aragon
Is this day to resign his cardinal’s hat;
3
His sister duchess likewise is arrived
4
To pay her vow of pilgrimage. I expect
5
A noble ceremony.
6
1 PILGRIM.
No question.—They come.
7
(Here the ceremony of the Cardinal's instalment in the habit of a soldier: performed in delivering up his cross, hat, robes, and ring at the shrine; and investing him with sword, helmet, shield, and spurs. Then Antonio, the Duchess, and their children, having presented themselves at the shrine, are (by a form of banishment in dumb-show expressed towards them by the Cardinal, and the state of Ancona) banished. During all which ceremony this ditty is sung to very solemn music, by divers churchmen; and then)
(Exeunt.)
(Arms and honours deck thy story, / To thy fame’s eternal glory, / Adverse fortune ever fly thee, / No disastrous fate come nigh thee. / I alone will sing thy praises, / Whom to honour virtue raises; / And thy study, that divine is, / Bent to martial discipline is: / Lay aside all those robes lie by thee, / Crown thy arts with arms: they’ll beautify thee. / O worthy of worthiest name, adorned in this manner, / Lead bravely thy forces on, under war’s warlike banner: / O mayst thou prove fortunate in all martial courses, / Guide thou still by skill, in arts and forces: / Victory attend thee nigh, whilst fame sings loud thy powers, / Triumphant conquest crown thy head, and blessings pour down showers.)
1 PILGRIM.
Here’s a strange turn of state: who would have thought
8
So great a lady would have matched herself
9
Unto so mean a person? Yet the Cardinal
10
Bears himself much too cruel.
11
2 PILGRIM.
They are banished.
1 PILGRIM.
But I would ask, what power hath this state
12
Of Ancona, to determine of a free prince?
13
2 PILGRIM.
They are a free state sir, and her brother showed
14
How that the Pope, forehearing of her looseness,
15
Hath seized into th’ protection of the Church
16
The dukedom which she held as dowager.
17
1 PILGRIM.
But by what justice?
18
2 PILGRIM.
Sure I think by none,
Only her brother’s instigation.
19
1 PILGRIM.
What was it, with such violence he took
20
Off from her finger?
21
2 PILGRIM.
’Twas her wedding-ring,
Which he vowed shortly he would sacrifice
22
To his revenge.
23
1 PILGRIM.
Alas Antonio!
If that a man be thrust into a well,
24
No matter who sets hand to’t, his own weight
25
Will bring him sooner to th’ bottom. Come, let’s hence
26
Fortune makes this conclusion general,
27
All things do help th’unhappy man to fall .
28
(Exeunt.)
Scene v
([Enter] Antonio, Duchess, Children, Cariola, Servants.)
DUCHESS.
Banished Ancona?
1
ANTONIO.
Yes, you see what power
Lightens in great men’s breath.
2
DUCHESS.
Is all our train
Shrunk to this poor remainder?
3
ANTONIO.
These poor men,
Which have got little in your service, vow
4
To take your fortune. But your wiser buntings,
5
Now they are fledged, are gone.
6
DUCHESS.
They have done wisely;
This puts me in mind of death: physicians thus,
7
With their hands full of money, use to give o’er
8
Their patients.
9
ANTONIO.
Right the fashion of the world:
From decayed fortunes every flatterer shrinks,
10
Men cease to build where the foundation sinks.
11
DUCHESS.
I had a very strange dream tonight.
12
ANTONIO.
What was’t?
DUCHESS.
Methought I wore my coronet of state,
13
And on a sudden all the diamonds
14
Were changed to pearls.
15
ANTONIO.
My interpretation
Is, you’ll weep shortly; for to me, the pearls
16
Do signify your tears.
17
DUCHESS.
The birds, that live i’th’ field
On the wild benefit of nature, live
18
Happier than we; for they may choose their mates,
19
And carol their sweet pleasures to the spring.
20
([Enter Bosola with a letter which he presents to the Dutchess.])
BOSOLA.
You are happily o’ertane.
21
DUCHESS.
From my brother?
BOSOLA.
Yes, from the Lord Ferdinand; your brother,
22
All love, and safety―
23
DUCHESS.
Thou dost blanch mischief;
Wouldst make it white. See, see; like to calm weather
24
At sea before a tempest, false hearts speak fair
25
To those they intend most mischief.
26
[She reads] A Letter: Send Antonio to me; I want his head in a business.
27
(A politic equivocation)
28
He doth not want your counsel, but your head;
29
That is, he cannot sleep till you be dead.
30
And here’s another pitfall, that’s strewed o’er
31
With roses: mark it, ’tis a cunning one:
32
I stand engaged for your husband for several debts at Naples: let not that trouble him, I had rather have his heart than his money.
And I believe so too.
36
BOSOLA.
What do you believe?
DUCHESS.
That he so much distrusts my husband’s love,
37
He will by no means believe his heart is with him
38
Until he see it. The devil is not cunning enough
39
To circumvent us in riddles.
40
BOSOLA.
Will you reject that noble and free league
41
Of amity and love which I present you?
42
DUCHESS.
Their league is like that of some politic kings,
43
Only to make themselves of strength and power
44
To be our after-ruin: tell them so.
45
BOSOLA.
And what from you?
46
ANTONIO.
Thus tell him: I will not come.
BOSOLA.
And what of this?
47
ANTONIO.
My brothers have dispersed
Bloodhounds abroad; which till I hear are muzzled,
48
No truce, though hatched with ne’er such politic skill,
49
Is safe, that hangs upon our enemies’ will.
50
I’ll not come at them.
51
BOSOLA.
This proclaims your breeding.
Every small thing draws a base mind to fear;
52
As the adamant draws iron: fare you well sir,
53
You shall shortly hear from’s.
54
(Exit.)
DUCHESS.
I suspect some ambush:
Therefore by all my love; I do conjure you
55
To take your eldest son, and fly towards Milan;
56
Let us not venture all this poor remainder
57
In one unlucky bottom.
58
ANTONIO.
You counsel safely.
Best of my life, farewell. Since we must part,
59
Heaven hath a hand in’t: but no otherwise
60
Than as some curious artist takes in sunder
61
A clock, or watch, when it is out of frame,
62
To bring’t in better order.
63
DUCHESS.
I know not which is best,
To see you dead, or part with you. Farewell boy,
64
Thou art happy, that thou hast not understanding
65
To know thy misery. For all our wit
66
And reading brings us to a truer sense
67
Of sorrow. In the eternal Church, sir,
68
I do hope we shall not part thus.
69
ANTONIO.
O be of comfort,
Make patience a noble fortitude:
70
And think not how unkindly we are used.
71
Man, like to cassia, is proved best, being bruised .
72
DUCHESS.
Must I like to a slave-born Russian,
73
Account it praise to suffer tyranny?
74
And yet, O Heaven, thy heavy hand is in’t.
75
I have seen my little boy oft scourge his top,
76
And compared myself to’t: nought made me e’er go right,
77
But Heaven’s scourge-stick.
78
ANTONIO.
Do not weep:
Heaven fashioned us of nothing; and we strive
79
To bring ourselves to nothing. Farewell Cariola,
80
[To the Dutchess] If I do never see thee more, And thy sweet armful.
81
Be a good mother to your little ones,
82
And save them from the tiger: fare you well.
83
DUCHESS.
Let me look upon you once more: for that speech
84
Came from a dying father: your kiss is colder
85
Than that I have seen an holy anchorite
86
Give to a dead man’s skull.
87
ANTONIO.
My heart is turned to a heavy lump of lead,
88
With which I sound my danger: fare you well.
89
(Exit [with elder son.])
DUCHESS.
My laurel is all withered.
90
CARIOLA.
Look, Madam, what a troop of armèd men
91
Make toward us.
92
(Enter Bosola with a guard [vizarded].)
DUCHESS.
O, they are very welcome:
When Fortune’s wheel is over-charged with princes,
93
The weight makes it move swift. I would have my ruin
94
Be sudden. I am your adventure, am I not?
95
BOSOLA.
You are: you must see your husband no more,―
96
DUCHESS.
What devil art thou, that counterfeits Heaven’s thunder?
97
BOSOLA.
Is that terrible? I would have you tell me whether
98
Is that note worse that frights the silly birds
99
Out of the corn; or that which doth allure them
100
To the nets? You have hearkened to the last too much.
101
DUCHESS.
O misery! like to a rusty o’ercharged cannon,
102
Shall I never fly in pieces? Come: to what prison?
103
BOSOLA.
To none.
104
DUCHESS.
Whither then?
BOSOLA.
To your palace.
DUCHESS.
I have heard that Charon’s boat serves to convey
105
All o’er the dismal lake, but brings none back again.
106
BOSOLA.
Your brothers mean you safety and pity.
107
DUCHESS.
Pity!
108
With such a pity men preserve alive
109
Pheasants and quails, when they are not fat enough
110
To be eaten.
111
BOSOLA.
These are your children?
112
DUCHESS.
Yes.
BOSOLA.
Can they prattle?
DUCHESS.
No:
113
But I intend, since they were born accursed;
114
Curses shall be their first language.
115
BOSOLA.
Fie, madam!
Forget this base, low fellow.
116
DUCHESS.
Were I a man,
I’ll’d beat that counterfeit face into thy other―
117
BOSOLA.
One of no birth.
118
DUCHESS.
Say that he was born mean,
Man is most happy, when’s own actions
119
Be arguments and examples of his virtue.
120
BOSOLA.
A barren, beggarly virtue.
121
DUCHESS.
I prithee, who is greatest, can you tell?
122
Sad tales befit my woe: I'll tell you one.
123
A Salmon, as she swam unto the sea,
124
Met with a Dog-fish; who encounters her
125
With this rough language: ‘Why art thou so bold
126
To mix thyself with our high state of floods
127
Being no eminent courtier, but one
128
That for the calmest and fresh time o’th’ year
129
Dost live in shallow rivers, rank’st thyself
130
With silly Smelts and Shrimps? And darest thou
131
Pass by our Dog-ship without reverence?’
132
‘O’, quoth the Salmon, ‘sister, be at peace:
133
Thank Jupiter, we both have passed the Net,
134
Our value never can be truly known,
135
Till in the Fisher’s basket we be shown;
136
I’th’ Market then my price may be the higher,
137
Even when I am nearest to the Cook, and fire.
138
So, to great men, the moral may be stretched.
139
Men oft are valued high, when they’re most wretch’d .
140
But come: whither you please. I am armed ’gainst misery:
141
Bent to all sways of the oppressors’ will.
142
There’s no deep valley, but near some great hill.
143
(Ex[eunt.])
Act IV
Scene i
([Enter Ferdinand and Bosola])
FERDINAND.
How doth our sister Duchess bear herself
1
In her imprisonment?
2
BOSOLA.
Nobly: I’ll describe her:
She’s sad, as one long used to’t: and she seems
3
Rather to welcome the end of misery
4
Than shun it: a behaviour so noble,
5
As gives a majesty to adversity:
6
You may discern the shape of loveliness
7
More perfect in her tears, than in her smiles;
8
She will muse four hours together: and her silence,
9
Methinks, expresseth more than if she spake.
10
FERDINAND.
Her melancholy seems to be fortified
11
With a strange disdain.
12
BOSOLA.
’Tis so: and this restraint
(Like English mastives, that grow fierce with tying)
13
Makes her too passionately apprehend
14
Those pleasures she’s kept from.
15
FERDINAND.
Curse upon her!
I will no longer study in the book
16
Of another’s heart: inform her what I told you.
17
(Exit.)
([Bosola draws the traverse to reveal the Dutchess, Cariola and Servants.])
BOSOLA.
All comfort to your Grace;―
18
DUCHESS.
I will have none.
’Pray-thee, why dost thou wrap thy poisoned pills
19
In gold and sugar?
20
BOSOLA.
Your elder brother the Lord Ferdinand
21
Is come to visit you: and sends you word
22
’Cause once he rashly made a solemn vow
23
Never to see you more; he comes i’th’ night;
24
And prays you, gently, neither torch nor taper
25
Shine in your chamber: he will kiss your hand;
26
And reconcile himself: but, for his vow,
27
He dares not see you.
28
DUCHESS.
At his pleasure.
Take hence the lights: he’s come.
29
([Exeunt servants with lights; enter Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Where are you?
30
DUCHESS.
Here, sir.
FERDINAND.
This darkness suits you well.
31
DUCHESS.
I would ask you pardon.
FERDINAND.
You have it;
32
For I account it the honourabl’st revenge
33
Where I may kill, to pardon: where are your cubs?
34
DUCHESS.
Whom?
35
FERDINAND.
Call them your children;
36
For though our national law distinguish bastards
37
From true legitimate issue, compassionate nature
38
Makes them all equal.
39
DUCHESS.
Do you visit me for this?
You violate a sacrament o’th’ Church
40
Shall make you howl in hell for’t.
41
FERDINAND.
It had been well,
Could you have lived thus always, for indeed
42
You were too much i’th’ light. But no more;
43
I come to seal my peace with you: here’s a hand,
44
(gives her a dead man’s hand.) To which you have vowed much love: the ring upon’t
45
You gave.
46
DUCHESS.
I affectionately kiss it.
FERDINAND.
Pray do: and bury the print of it in your heart.
47
I will leave this ring with you, for a love-token:
48
And the hand, as sure as the ring: and do not doubt
49
But you shall have the heart too. When you need a friend
50
Send it to him that owed it: you shall see
51
Whether he can aid you.
52
DUCHESS.
You are very cold.
I fear you are not well after your travel:
53
Ha? Lights: Oh horrible!
54
FERDINAND.
Let her have lights enough.
55
([Exit.)
([Enter servants with lights.])
DUCHESS.
What witchcraft doth he practice, that he hath left
56
A dead man’s hand here?―
57
(Here is discovered, behind a traverse, the artificial figures of Antonio and his children; appearing as if they were dead .)
BOSOLA.
Look you: here’s the piece from which ’twas tane;
58
He doth present you this sad spectacle,
59
That now you know directly they are dead,
60
Hereafter you may, wisely, cease to grieve
61
For that which cannot be recovered.
62
DUCHESS.
There is not between heaven and earth one wish
63
I stay for after this: it wastes me more,
64
Than were’t my picture, fashioned out of wax,
65
Stuck with a magical needle, and then buried
66
In some foul dunghill: And yond’s an excellent property
67
For a tyrant, which I would account mercy,―
68
BOSOLA.
What’s that?
69
DUCHESS.
If they would bind me to that lifeless trunk,
70
And let me freeze to death.
71
BOSOLA.
Come, you must live.
DUCHESS.
That’s the greatest torture souls feel in hell,
72
In hell: that they must live, and cannot die.
73
Portia, I’ll new kindle thy coals again,
74
And revive the rare and almost dead example
75
Of a loving wife.
76
BOSOLA.
O fie! despair? remember
You are a Christian.
77
DUCHESS.
The Church enjoins fasting:
I’ll starve myself to death.
78
BOSOLA.
Leave this vain sorrow;
Things being at the worst, begin to mend:
79
The bee when he hath shot his sting into your hand
80
May then play with your eyelid.
81
DUCHESS.
Good comfortable fellow
Persuade a wretch that’s broke upon the wheel
82
To have all his bones new set: entreat him live,
83
To be executed again. Who must dispatch me?
84
I account this world a tedious theatre,
85
For I do play a part in’t ’gainst my will.
86
BOSOLA.
Come, be of comfort, I will save your life.
87
DUCHESS.
Indeed I have not leisure to tend so small a business.
88
BOSOLA.
Now, by my life, I pity you.
89
DUCHESS.
Thou art a fool then,
To waste thy pity on a thing so wretched
90
As cannot pity itself. I am full of daggers.
91
Puff! let me blow these vipers from me.
92
([Enter Servant.])
What are you?
93
SERVANT.
One that wishes you long life.
DUCHESS.
I would thou wert hanged for the horrible curse
94
Thou hast given me: I shall shortly grow one
95
Of the miracles of pity. I’ll go pray. No,
96
I’ll go curse.
97
BOSOLA.
Oh, fie!
DUCHESS.
I could curse the stars.
98
BOSOLA.
Oh, fearful!
DUCHESS.
And those three smiling seasons of the year
99
Into a Russian winter: nay the world
100
To its first chaos.
101
BOSOLA.
Look you, the stars shine still.
102
DUCHESS.
Oh, but you must
Remember, my curse hath a great way to go:
103
Plagues, that make lanes through largest families,
104
Consume them.
105
BOSOLA.
Fie lady!
DUCHESS.
Let them like tyrants
Never be remembered, but for the ill they have done:
106
Let all the zealous prayers of mortified
107
Churchmen forget them,―
108
BOSOLA.
O uncharitable!
DUCHESS.
Let Heaven, a little while, cease crowning martyrs,
109
To punish them.
110
Go, howl them this: and say I long to bleed.
111
It is some mercy when men kill with speed .
112
(Exit [with servants])
([Enter Ferdinand. ])
FERDINAND.
Excellent; as I would wish: she’s plagued in art.
113
These presentations are but framed in wax
114
By the curious master in that quality,
115
Vincentio Lauriola, and she takes them
116
For true substantial bodies.
117
BOSOLA.
Why do you do this?
FERDINAND.
To bring her to despair.
118
BOSOLA.
’Faith, end here;
And go no farther in your cruelty,
119
Send her a penitential garment, to put on
120
Next to her delicate skin, and furnish her
121
With beads and prayer books.
122
FERDINAND.
Damn her! that body of hers,
While that my blood ran pure in’t, was more worth
123
Than that which thou wouldst comfort, called a soul.
124
I will send her masques of common courtesans,
125
Have her meat served up by bawds and ruffians,
126
And, ’cause she’ll needs be mad, I am resolved
127
To remove forth the common hospital
128
All the mad folk, and place them near her lodging:
129
There let them practice together, sing, and dance,
130
And act their gambols to the full o’th’ moon:
131
If she can sleep the better for it, let her.
132
Your work is almost ended.
133
BOSOLA.
Must I see her again?
FERDINAND.
Yes.
134
BOSOLA.
Never.
FERDINAND.
You must.
BOSOLA.
Never in mine own shape;
That’s forfeited by my intelligence,
135
And this last cruel lie: when you send me next,
136
The business shall be comfort.
137
FERDINAND.
Very likely:
Thy pity is nothing of kin to thee. Antonio
138
Lurks about Milan; thou shalt shortly thither,
139
To feed a fire as great as my revenge,
140
Which nev’r will slack, till it have spent his fuel;
141
Intemperate agues make physicians cruel
142
(Exeunt.)
Scene ii
([Enter Duchess and Cariola.])
DUCHESS.
What hideous noise was that?
1
CARIOLA.
’Tis the wild consort
Of madmen, lady, which your tyrant brother
2
Hath placed about your lodging. This tyranny,
3
I think, was never practiced till this hour.
4
DUCHESS.
Indeed I thank him: nothing but noise, and folly
5
Can keep me in my right wits, whereas reason
6
And silence make me stark mad. Sit down,
7
Discourse to me some dismal tragedy.
8
CARIOLA.
O ’twill increase your melancholy.
9
DUCHESS.
Thou art deceived;
To hear of greater grief would lessen mine.
10
This is a prison?
11
CARIOLA.
Yes, but you shall live
To shake this durance off.
12
DUCHESS.
Thou art a fool:
The robin red-breast and the nightingale
13
Never live long in cages.
14
CARIOLA.
Pray dry your eyes.
What think you of Madam?
15
DUCHESS.
Of nothing:
When I muse thus, I sleep.
16
CARIOLA.
Like a madman, with your eyes open?
17
DUCHESS.
Dost thou think we shall know one another
18
In th’other world?
19
CARIOLA.
Yes, out of question.
DUCHESS.
O that it were possible we might
20
But hold some two days’ conference with the dead,
21
From them I should learn somewhat, I am sure
22
I never shall know here. I'll tell thee a miracle,
23
I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow.
24
Th’heaven o'er my head seems made of molten brass,
25
The earth of flaming sulphur, yet I am not mad.
26
I am acquainted with sad misery,
27
As the tanned galley-slave is with his oar.
28
Necessity makes me suffer constantly.
29
And custom makes it easy. Who do I look like now?
30
CARIOLA.
Like to your picture in the gallery,
31
A deal of life in show, but none in practice:
32
Or rather like some reverend monument
33
Whose ruins are even pitied.
34
DUCHESS.
Very proper:
And Fortune seems only to have her eyesight,
35
To behold my tragedy.
36
How now! what noise is that?
37
([Enter] Servant.)
SERVANT.
I am come to tell you,
Your brother hath intended you some sport.
38
A great physician when the Pope was sick
39
Of a deep melancholy, presented him
40
With several sorts of madmen, which wild object,
41
Being full of change and sport, forced him to laugh,
42
And so th’impostume broke: the selfsame cure
43
The Duke intends on you.
44
DUCHESS.
Let them come in.
SERVANT.
There's a mad lawyer, and a secular priest,
45
A doctor that hath forfeited his wits
46
By jealousy; an astrologian,
47
That in his works said such a day o’th’ month
48
Should be the day of doom; and, failing of’t,
49
Ran mad; an English tailor, crazed i’th’ brain
50
With the study of new fashion; a gentleman usher
51
Quite beside himself with care to keep in mind
52
The number of his lady's salutations,
53
Or ‘How do you?’ she employed him in each morning:
54
A farmer too, an excellent knave in grain,
55
Mad, 'cause he was hindered transportation;
56
And let one broker, that’s mad, loose to these,
57
You'ld think the devil were among them.
58
DUCHESS.
Sit Cariola: let them loose when you please,
59
For I am chained to endure all your tyranny.
60
([Enter Madmen.])
(Here, by a madman, this song is sung to a dismal kind of music. / O let us howl, some heavy note, / Some deadly-doggèd howl, / Sounding, as from the threat’ning of beasts, and fatal fowl. / As ravens, screech-owls, bulls, and bears, / We’ll bill, and bawl our parts, / Till yerksome noise, have cloyed your ears, / and corrosived your hearts. / At last when as our choir wants breath, / our bodies being blest, / We’ll sing like swans, to welcome death, / and die in love and rest . throat,)
MAD ASTROLOGER.
Doomsday not come yet? I’ll draw it nearer by a perspective, or make a glass, that shall set all the world on fire upon an instant. I cannot sleep, my pillow is stufft with a litter of porcupines.
MAD LAWYER.
Hell is a mere glass-house, where the devils are continually blowing up women’s souls on hollow irons, and the fire never goes out.
MAD PRIEST.
I will lie with every woman in my parish the tenth night: I will tithe them over like haycocks.
MAD DOCTOR.
Shall my pothecary outgo me, because I am a cuckold? I have found out his roguery: he makes allum of his wife’s urine, and sells it to Puritans, that have sore throats with over-straining.
MAD ASTROLOGER.
I have skill in heraldry.
MAD LAWYER.
Hast?
MAD ASTROLOGER.
You do give for your crest a woodcock’s head, with the brains picked out on’t. You are a very ancient gentleman.
MAD PRIEST.
Greek is turned Turk; we are only to be saved by the Helvetian translation.
MAD ASTROLOGER
[to lawyer]. Come on sir, I will lay the law to you.
MAD LAWYER.
Oh, rather lay a corrosive, the law will eat to the bone.
MAD PRIEST.
He that drinks but to satisfy nature is damned.
MAD DOCTOR.
If I had my glass here, I would show a sight should make all the women here call me mad doctor.
MAD ASTROLOGER
[pointing to the Priest]. What’s he, a rope- maker?
MAD LAWYER.
No, no, no, a snuffling knave, that while he shows the tombs, will have his hand in a wench’s placket.
MAD PRIEST.
Woe to the caroche that brought home my wife from the masque, at three o’clock in the morning; it had a large featherbed in it.
MAD DOCTOR.
I have pared the devil’s nails forty times, roasted them in ravens’ eggs, and cured agues with them.
MAD PRIEST.
Get me three hundred milch bats, to make possets to procure sleep.
MAD DOCTOR.
All the college may throw their caps at me, I have made a soap-boiler costive: it was my masterpiece:―
(Here the dance, consisting of 8. madmen, with music answerable thereunto, after which Bosola, like an old man, enters.)
DUCHESS.
Is he mad too?
101
SERVANT.
Pray question him; I'll leave you.
([Exeunt Servant and Madmen])
BOSOLA.
I am come to make thy tomb.
102
DUCHESS.
Ha! my tomb?
Thou speak’st as if I lay upon my death-bed,
103
Gasping for breath: dost thou perceive me sick?
104
BOSOLA.
Yes, and the more dangerously, since thy sickness is insensible.
DUCHESS.
Thou art not mad, sure; dost know me?
BOSOLA.
Yes.
DUCHESS.
Who am I?
BOSOLA.
Thou art a box of worm seed, at best, but a sal- vatory of green mummy: what’s this flesh? a little cruded milk, fantastical puff-paste: our bodies are weaker than those paper prisons boys use to keep flies in: more contemptible; since ours is to preserve earth-worms: didst thou ever see a lark in a cage? such is the soul in the body: this world is like her little turf of grass, and the heaven o’er our heads, like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge of the small compass of our prison.
DUCHESS.
Am not I thy Duchess?
BOSOLA.
Thou art some great woman, sure; for riot begins to sit on thy forehead (clad in gray hairs) twenty years sooner than on a merry milkmaid’s. Thou sleep’st worse, than if a mouse should be forced to take up her lodging in a cat’s ear: a little infant, that breeds its teeth, should it lie with thee, would cry out as if thou wert the more unquiet bedfellow.
DUCHESS.
I am Duchess of Malfi still.
BOSOLA.
That makes thy sleeps so broken:
Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright,
127
But looked to near, have neither heat nor light.
128
DUCHESS.
Thou art very plain.
BOSOLA.
My trade is to flatter the dead, not the living; I am a tomb-maker.
DUCHESS.
And thou com’st to make my tomb?
BOSOLA.
Yes.
DUCHESS.
Let me be a little merry;
134
Of what stuff wilt thou make it?
135
BOSOLA.
Nay, resolve me first, of what fashion?
136
DUCHESS.
Why, do we grow fantastical in our death-bed? Do we affect fashion in the grave?
BOSOLA.
Most ambitiously. Princes’ images on their tombs
139
Do not lie as they were wont, seeming to pray
140
Up to Heaven: but with their hands under their cheeks,
141
As if they died of the tooth-ache; they are not carved
142
With their eyes fixed upon the stars; but as
143
Their minds were wholly bent upon the world,
144
The self-same way they seem to turn their faces.
145
DUCHESS.
Let me know fully therefore the effect
146
Of this thy dismal preparation,
147
This talk, fit for a charnel.
148
BOSOLA.
Now I shall;
([Enter Executioners with] a coffin, cords, and a bell.)
Here is a present from your princely brothers,
149
And may it arrive welcome, for it brings
150
Last benefit, last sorrow.
151
DUCHESS.
Let me see it.
I have so much obedience, in my blood,
152
I wish it in their veins, to do them good.
153
BOSOLA.
This is your last presence chamber.
154
CARIOLA.
O my sweet lady!
155
DUCHESS.
Peace; it affrights not me.
BOSOLA.
I am the common bellman,
156
That usually is sent to condemned persons,
157
The night before they suffer.
158
DUCHESS.
Even now thou said’st
Thou wast a tomb-maker?
159
BOSOLA.
’Twas to bring you
By degrees to mortification. Listen:
160
[rings the bell] Hark, now everything is still,
161
The screech-owl and the whistler shrill
162
Call upon our Dame, aloud,
163
And bid her quickly don her shroud.
164
Much you had of land and rent,
165
Your length in clay’s now competent.
166
A long war disturbed your mind,
167
Here your perfect peace is signed.
168
Of what is’t fools make such vain keeping?
169
Sin their conception, their birth, weeping:
170
Their life, a general mist of error,
171
Their death, a hideous storm of terror.
172
Strew your hair with powders sweet:
173
Don clean linen, bath your feet,
174
And, the foul fiend more to check,
175
A crucifix let bless your neck.
176
’Tis now full tide ’tween night and day,
177
End your groan, and come away.
178
([Executioners approach.])
CARIOLA.
Hence villains, tyrants, murderers. Alas!
179
What will you do with my lady? Call for help.
180
DUCHESS.
To whom, to our next neighbours? They are mad-folks.
181
BOSOLA.
Remove that noise.
182
([Executioners seize Cariola, who struggles.])
DUCHESS.
Farewell Cariola,
In my last will I have not much to give;
183
A many hungry guests have fed upon me,
184
Thine will be a poor reversion.
185
CARIOLA.
I will die with her.
DUCHESS.
I pray thee, look thou giv’st my little boy
186
Some syrup for his cold, and let the girl
187
Say her prayers, ere she sleep.
188
([Cariola is forced off.])
Now, what you please,
What death?
189
BOSOLA.
Strangling: here are your executioners.
DUCHESS.
I forgive them:
190
The apoplexy, catarrh, or cough o'th’ lungs
191
Would do as much as they do.
192
BOSOLA.
Doth not death fright you?
193
DUCHESS.
Who would be afraid on’t?
Knowing to meet such excellent company
194
In th’other world?
195
BOSOLA.
Yet, methinks,
The manner of your death should much afflict you,
196
This cord should terrify you?
197
DUCHESS.
Not a whit:
What would it pleasure me, to have my throat cut
198
With diamonds? or to be smothered
199
With cassia? or to be shot to death, with pearls?
200
I know death hath ten thousand several doors
201
For men to take their Exits : and ’tis found
202
They go on such strange geometrical hinges,
203
You may open them both ways: any way, for Heaven sake,
204
So I were out of your whispering. Tell my brothers
205
That I perceive death, now I am well awake,
206
Best gift is, they can give, or I can take.
207
I would fain put off my last woman's fault,
208
I’ll’d not be tedious to you.
209
EXECUTIONERS.
We are ready.
DUCHESS.
Dispose my breath how please you, but my body
210
Bestow upon my women, will you?
211
EXECUTIONERS.
Yes.
DUCHESS.
Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strength
212
Must pull down heaven upon me:
213
Yet stay, heaven gates are not so highly arched
214
As princes’ palaces: they that enter there
215
Must go upon their knees. Come violent death,
216
Serve for mandragora to make me sleep;
217
Go tell my brothers, when I am laid out,
218
They then may feed in quiet.
219
(They strangle her.)
BOSOLA.
Where's the waiting woman?
Fetch her. Some other strangle the children.
220
([Exeunt Executioners. Enter one with Cariola.])
Look you, there sleeps your mistress.
221
CARIOLA.
O you are damned
Perpetually for this. My turn is next,
222
Is’t not so ordered?
223
BOSOLA.
Yes, and I am glad
You are so well prepared for’t.
224
CARIOLA.
You are deceived sir,
I am not prepared for't. I will not die,
225
I will first come to my answer; and know
226
How I have offended.
227
BOSOLA.
Come, dispatch her.
You kept her counsel, now you shall keep ours.
228
CARIOLA.
I will not die, I must not, I am contracted
229
To a young gentleman.
230
EXECUTIONER
[showing the noose]. Here’s your wedding-ring.
CARIOLA.
Let me but speak with the Duke. I'll discover
231
Treason to his person.
232
BOSOLA.
Delays: throttle her.
EXECUTIONER.
She bites: and scratches.
233
CARIOLA.
If you kill me now
I am damned. I have not been at confession
234
This two years.
235
BOSOLA.
When!
CARIOLA.
I am quick with child.
236
BOSOLA.
Why then,
Your credit’s saved: bear her into th' next room.
237
Let this lie still.
238
([Executioners strangle Cariola and exeunt with her body.)
(Enter Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Is she dead?
239
BOSOLA.
She is what
You’ll’d have her. But here begin your pity,
240
([Bosola draws the traverse and] Shows the children strangled.)
Alas, how have these offended?
241
FERDINAND.
The death
Of young wolves is never to be pitied.
242
BOSOLA.
Fix your eye here.
243
FERDINAND.
Constantly.
BOSOLA.
Do you not weep?
Other sins only speak; murther shrieks out:
244
The element of water moistens the earth,
245
But blood flies upwards, and bedews the heavens.
246
FERDINAND.
Cover her face. Mine eyes dazzle: she died young.
247
BOSOLA.
I think not so: her infelicity
248
Seemed to have years too many.
249
FERDINAND.
She and I were twins:
And should I die this instant, I had lived
250
Her time to a minute.
251
BOSOLA.
It seems she was born first:
You have bloodily approved the ancient truth,
252
That kindred commonly do worse agree
253
Than remote strangers.
254
FERDINAND.
Let me see her face again.
Why didst not thou pity her? What an excellent
255
Honest man might’st thou have been
256
If thou hadst borne her to some sanctuary!
257
Or, bold in a good cause, opposed thyself
258
With thy advanced sword above thy head,
259
Between her innocence and my revenge!
260
I bade thee, when I was distracted of my wits,
261
Go kill my dearest friend, and thou hast done’t.
262
For let me but examine well the cause;
263
What was the meanness of her match to me?
264
Only I must confess, I had a hope,
265
Had she continued widow, to have gained
266
An infinite mass of treasure by her death:
267
And that was the main cause; her marriage,
268
That drew a stream of gall quite through my heart;
269
For thee, (as we observe in tragedies
270
That a good actor many times is cursed
271
For playing a villain’s part) I hate thee for't:
272
And, for my sake, say thou hast done much ill, well.
273
BOSOLA.
Let me quicken your memory: for I perceive
274
You are falling into ingratitude. I challenge
275
The reward due to my service.
276
FERDINAND.
I'll tell thee,
What I'll give thee—
277
BOSOLA.
Do.
FERDINAND.
I'll give thee a pardon
For this murder.
278
BOSOLA.
Ha?
FERDINAND.
Yes: and ’tis
The largest bounty I can study to do thee.
279
By what authority didst thou execute
280
This bloody sentence?
281
BOSOLA.
By yours.
FERDINAND.
Mine? Was I her judge?
Did any ceremonial form of law
282
Doom her to not-being? did a complete jury
283
Deliver her conviction up i’th’ court?
284
Where shalt thou find this judgement registered
285
Unless in hell? See: like a bloody fool
286
Th’hast forfeited thy life, and thou shalt die for't.
287
BOSOLA.
The office of justice is perverted quite
288
When one thief hangs another: who shall dare
289
To reveal this?
290
FERDINAND.
Oh, I'll tell thee:
The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up;
291
Not to devour the corpse, but to discover
292
The horrid murther.
293
BOSOLA.
You; not I shall quake for't.
FERDINAND.
Leave me.
294
BOSOLA.
I will first receive my pension.
FERDINAND.
You are a villain.
295
BOSOLA.
When your ingratitude
Is judge, I am so―
296
FERDINAND.
O horror!
That not the fear of Him which binds the devils
297
Can prescribe man obedience.
298
Never look upon me more.
299
BOSOLA.
Why fare thee well:
Your brother and yourself are worthy men;
300
You have a pair of hearts are hollow graves,
301
Rotten, and rotting others: and your vengeance,
302
Like two chained bullets, still goes arm in arm;
303
You may be brothers: for treason, like the plague,
304
Doth take much in a blood. I stand like one
305
That long hath tane a sweet and golden dream.
306
I am angry with myself, now that I wake.
307
FERDINAND.
Get thee into some unknown part o’th’ world
308
That I may never see thee.
309
BOSOLA.
Let me know
Wherefore I should be thus neglected? Sir,
310
I served your tyranny: and rather strove
311
To satisfy yourself, than all the world;
312
And though I loathed the evil, yet I loved
313
You that did counsel it: and rather sought
314
To appear a true servant than an honest man.
315
FERDINAND.
I'll go hunt the badger by owl-light:
316
'Tis a deed of darkness. Exit.
317
BOSOLA.
He’s much distracted. Off my painted honour!
318
While with vain hopes our faculties we tire,
319
We seem to sweat in ice and freeze in fire;
320
What would I do, were this to do again?
321
I would not change my peace of conscience
322
For all the wealth of Europe. She stirs; here’s life.
323
Return, fair soul, from darkness, and lead mine
324
Out of this sensible hell. She’s warm, she breathes:
325
Upon thy pale lips I will melt my heart
326
To store them with fresh colour. Who’s there?
327
Some cordial drink! Alas! I dare not call:
328
So pity would destroy pity: her eye opes,
329
And heaven in it seems to ope, that late was shut,
330
To take me up to mercy.
331
DUCHESS.
Antonio!
BOSOLA.
Yes, Madam, he is living,
332
The dead bodies you saw were but feigned statues;
333
He’s reconciled to your brothers: the Pope hath wrought
334
The atonement.
335
DUCHESS.
Mercy.
(she dies.)
BOSOLA.
Oh, she’s gone again: there the cords of life broke.
336
Oh sacred innocence, that sweetly sleeps
337
On turtles’ feathers: whilst a guilty conscience
338
Is a black register, wherein is writ
339
All our good deeds and bad; a perspective
340
That shows us hell; that we cannot be suffered
341
To do good when we have a mind to it!
342
This is manly sorrow:
343
These tears, I am very certain, never grew
344
In my mother’s milk. My estate is sunk
345
Below the degree of fear: where were
346
These penitent fountains while she was living?
347
Oh, they were frozen up: here is a sight
348
As direful to my soul as is the sword
349
Unto a wretch hath slain his father. Come,
350
I’ll bear thee hence,
351
And execute thy last will; that’s deliver
352
Thy body to the reverend dispose
353
Of some good women: that the cruel tyrant
354
Shall not deny me. Then I’ll post to Milan,
355
Where somewhat I will speedily enact
356
Worth my dejection.
357
(Exit [carrying the body].)
Act V
Scene i
([Enter Antonio and Delio.])
ANTONIO.
What think you of my hope of reconcilement
1
To the Aragonian brethren?
2
DELIO.
I misdoubt it
For though they have sent their letters of safe conduct
3
For your repair to Milan, they appear
4
But nets to entrap you. The Marquis of Pescara,
5
Under whom you hold certain land in cheat,
6
Much ’gainst his noble nature, hath been moved
7
To sieze those lands, and some of his dependents
8
Are at this instant making it their suit
9
To be invested in your revenues.
10
I cannot think they mean well to your life,
11
That do deprive you of your means of life,
12
Your living.
13
ANTONIO.
You are still an heretic.
To any safety I can shape myself.
14
DELIO.
Here comes the Marquis. I will make myself
15
Petitioner for some part of your land,
16
To know whither it is flying.
17
ANTONIO.
I pray, do.
([Enter Pescara.])
DELIO.
Sir, I have a suit to you.
18
PESCARA.
To me?
DELIO.
An easy one:
There is the citadel of St. Bennet,
19
With some demesnes, of late in the possession
20
Of Antonio Bologna; please you bestow them on me?
21
PESCARA.
You are my friend. But this is such a suit
22
Nor fit for me to give, nor you to take.
23
DELIO.
No sir?
24
PESCARA.
I will give you ample reason for’t
Soon, in private. Here’s the Cardinal’s mistress.
25
([Enter Julia.])
JULIA.
My lord, I am grown your poor petitioner,
26
And should be an ill beggar, had I not
27
A great man’s letter here, the Cardinal’s,
28
To court you in my favour.
29
([She gives him a letter which he reads.])
PESCARA.
He entreats for you
The citadel of Saint Bennet, that belonged
30
To the banished Bologna.
31
JULIA.
Yes.
PESCARA.
I could not have thought of a friend I could
32
Rather pleasure with it: ’tis yours.
33
JULIA.
Sir, I thank you:
And he shall know how doubly I am engaged
34
Both in your gift, and speediness of giving,
35
Which makes your grant the greater.
36
(Exit.)
ANTONIO.
How they fortify
37
Themselves with my ruin!
38
DELIO.
Sir, I am
Little bound to you.
39
PESCARA.
Why?
DELIO.
Because you denied this suit to me, and gave’t
40
To such a creature.
41
PESCARA.
Do you know what it was?
It was Antonio’s land: not forfeited
42
By course of law; but ravished from his throat
43
By the Cardinal’s entreaty: it were not fit
44
I should bestow so main a piece of wrong
45
Upon my friend: ’tis a gratification
46
Only due to a strumpet; for it is injustice.
47
Shall I sprinkle the pure blood of innocents
48
To make those followers I call my friends
49
Look ruddier upon me? I am glad
50
This land, tane from the owner by such wrong,
51
Returns again unto so foul an use,
52
As salary for his lust. Learn, good Delio,
53
To ask noble things of me, and you shall find
54
I’ll be a noble giver.
55
DELIO.
You instruct me well.
ANTONIO.
Why, here’s a man, now, would fright impudence
56
From sauciest beggars.
57
PESCARA.
Prince Ferdinand’s come to Milan
Sick, as they give out, of an apoplexy:
58
But some say ’tis a frenzy; I am going
59
Exit. To visit him.
60
ANTONIO.
'Tis a noble old fellow:
DELIO.
What course do you mean to take, Antonio?
61
ANTONIO.
This night I mean to venture all my fortune,
62
Which is no more than a poor ling’ring life,
63
To the Cardinal’s worst of malice. I have got
64
Private access to his chamber: and intend
65
To visit him, about the mid of night,
66
As once his brother did our noble Duchess.
67
It may be that the sudden apprehension
68
Of danger (for I’ll go in mine own shape)
69
When he shall see it fraught with love and duty,
70
May draw the poison out of him, and work
71
A friendly reconcilement: if it fail,
72
Yet it shall rid me of this infamous calling,
73
For better fall once, than be ever falling.
74
DELIO.
I’ll second you in all danger: and, howe’er,
75
My life keeps rank with yours.
76
ANTONIO.
You are still my lovèd and best friend.
77
(Exeunt.)
Scene ii
([Enter Pescara and Doctor])
PESCARA.
Now doctor, may I visit your patient?
1
DOCTOR.
If’t please your lordship: but he’s instantly
2
To take the air here in the gallery,
3
By my direction.
4
PESCARA.
Pray thee, what’s his disease?
DOCTOR.
A very pestilent disease, my lord,
5
They call lycanthropia.
6
PESCARA.
What’s that?
I need a dictionary to’t.
7
DOCTOR.
I’ll tell you.
In those that are possessed with’t there o'erflows
8
Such melancholy humour, they imagine
9
Themselves to be transformèd into wolves.
10
Steal forth to churchyards in the dead of night,
11
And dig dead bodies up: as two nights since
12
One met the Duke, ’bout midnight in a lane
13
Behind St. Mark’s church, with the leg of a man
14
Upon his shoulder; and he howled fearfully:
15
Said he was a wolf: only the difference
16
Was, a wolf’s skin was hairy on the outside,
17
His on the inside: bade them take their swords,
18
Rip up his flesh, and try: straight I was sent for,
19
And having ministered to him, found his Grace
20
Very well recovered.
21
PESCARA.
I am glad on’t.
DOCTOR.
Yet not without some fear
22
Of a relapse: if he grow to his fit again
23
I’ll go a nearer way to work with him
24
Than ever Paracelsus dreamed of. If
25
They’ll give me leave, I’ll buffet his madness out of him.
26
Stand aside: he comes.
27
([Enter Cardinal, Ferdinand, Malateste and Bosola, who remains in the background.])
FERDINAND.
Leave me.
MALATESTE.
Why doth your lordship love this solitariness?
FERDINAND.
Eagles commonly fly alone. They are crows, daws, and starlings that flock together. Look, what’s that follows me?
MALATESTE.
Nothing, my lord.
FERDINAND.
Yes.
MALATESTE.
’Tis your shadow.
FERDINAND.
Stay it; let it not haunt me.
MALATESTE.
Impossible, if you move, and the sun shine.
FERDINAND.
I will throttle it.
([Throws himself upon his shadow. ])
MALATESTE.
Oh, my lord: you are angry with nothing.
FERDINAND.
You are a fool. How is’t possible I should catch my shadow unless I fall upon’t? When I go to hell, I mean to carry a bribe: for look you, good gifts evermore make way for the worst persons.
PESCARA.
Rise, good my lord.
FERDINAND.
I am studying the art of patience.
PESCARA.
’Tis a noble virtue;―
FERDINAND.
To drive six snails before me, from this town to Moscow; neither use goad nor whip to them, but let them take their own time: (the patient’st man i’th’ world match me for an experiment!) and I’ll crawl after like a sheep-biter.
CARDINAL.
Force him up.
([They get Ferdinand to his feet.])
FERDINAND.
Use me well, you were best.
53
What I have done, I have done: I’ll confess nothing.
54
DOCTOR.
Now let me come to him. Are you mad, my lord?
55
Are you out of your princely wits?
56
FERDINAND.
What’s he?
PESCARA.
Your doctor.
FERDINAND.
Let me have his beard sawed off, and his eyebrows
57
Filed more civil.
58
DOCTOR.
I must do mad tricks with him,
For that’s the only way on’t. I have brought
59
Your Grace a salamander’s skin, to keep you
60
From sun-burning.
61
FERDINAND.
I have cruel sore eyes.
DOCTOR.
The white of a cockatrice’s egg is present remedy.
62
FERDINAND.
Let it be a new-laid one, you were best.
63
Hide me from him. Physicians are like kings,
64
They brook no contradiction.
65
DOCTOR.
Now he begins
To fear me; now let me alone with him.
66
([Ferdinand tries to take off his gown; Cardinal seizes him.])
CARDINAL.
How now, put off your gown?
67
DOCTOR.
Let him go, let him go upon my peril. I find by his eye, he stands in awe of me: I’ll make him as tame as a dormouse.
([Cardinal releases Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Can you fetch your frisks, sir! I will stamp him into a cullis; flay off his skin, to cover one of the anatomies, this rogue hath set i’th’ cold yonder, in Barber-Chirur- geons’ Hall. Hence, hence! you are all of you like beasts for [throws the Doctor down and beats him] there’s sacrifice, nothing left of you, but tongue and belly, flattery and lechery.
([Exit.])
PESCARA.
Doctor, he did not fear you throughly.
DOCTOR.
True, I was somewhat too forward.
BOSOLA.
Mercy upon me, what a fatal judgement
82
Hath fall’n upon this Ferdinand!
83
PESCARA.
Knows your Grace
What accident hath brought unto the Prince
84
This strange distraction?
85
CARDINAL
I must feign somewhat. Thus they say it grew:
86
You have heard it rumored for these many years,
87
None of our family dies, but there is seen
88
The shape of an old woman, which is given
89
By tradition, to us, to have been murthered
90
By her nephews, for her riches. Such a figure
91
One night, as the Prince sat up late at’s book,
92
Appeared to him; when crying out for help,
93
The gentlemen of's chamber found his Grace
94
All on a cold sweat, altered much in face
95
And language. Since which apparition
96
He hath grown worse and worse, and I much fear
97
He cannot live.
98
BOSOLA.
Sir, I would speak with you.
99
PESCARA.
We’ll leave your Grace,
Wishing to the sick Prince, our noble lord,
100
All health of mind and body.
101
CARDINAL.
You are most welcome.
([Exeunt Pescara, Malateste and Doctor.])
Are you come? So: this fellow must not know
102
By any means I had intelligence
103
In our Duchess’ death. For, though I counseled it,
104
The full of all th’engagement seemed to grow
105
From Ferdinand. Now sir, how fares our sister?
106
I do not think but sorrow makes her look
107
Like to an oft-dyed garment. She shall now
108
Taste comfort from me: why do you look so wildly?
109
Oh, the fortune of your master here, the Prince,
110
Dejects you, but be you of happy comfort:
111
If you’ll do one thing for me I'll entreat,
112
Though he had a cold tombstone o’er his bones,
113
I’ll’d make you what you would be.
114
BOSOLA.
Any thing;
Give it me in a breath, and let me fly to’t:
115
They that think long, small expedition win,
116
For musing much o’th’ end, cannot begin.
117
([Enter] Julia.)
JULIA.
Sir, will you come in to supper?
118
CARDINAL.
I am busy, leave me.
JULIA.
What an excellent shape hath that fellow!
119
(Exit.)
CARDINAL.
’Tis thus: Antonio lurks here in Milan;
120
Inquire him out, and kill him: while he lives
121
Our sister cannot marry, and I have thought
122
Of an excellent match for her: do this, and style me
123
Thy advancement.
124
BOSOLA.
But by what means shall I find him out?
CARDINAL.
There is a gentleman, called Delio
125
Here in the camp, that hath been long approved
126
His loyal friend. Set eye upon that fellow,
127
Follow him to mass; may be Antonio,
128
Although he do account religion
129
But a school-name, for fashion of the world,
130
May accompany him: or else go inquire out
131
Delio’s confessor, and see if you can bribe
132
Him to reveal it: there are a thousand ways
133
A man might find to trace him: as, to know
134
What fellows haunt the Jews for taking up
135
Great sums of money, for sure he’s in want;
136
Or else to go to th’ picture-makers and learn
137
Who brought her picture lately: some of these
138
Happily may take—
139
BOSOLA.
Well, I’ll not freeze i’th’ business,
I would see that wretched thing, Antonio,
140
Above all sights i’th’ world.
141
CARDINAL.
Do, and be happy.
(Exit.)
BOSOLA.
This fellow doth breed basilisks in’s eyes,
142
He’s nothing else but murder: yet he seems
143
Not to have notice of the Duchess’ death.
144
’Tis his cunning: I must follow his example;
145
There cannot be a surer way to trace,
146
Than that of an old fox.
147
([Enter Julia with a pistol.])
JULIA.
So, sir, you are well met.
BOSOLA.
How now?
148
JULIA.
Nay, the doors are fast enough.
Now, sir, I will make you confess your treachery.
149
BOSOLA.
Treachery?
150
JULIA.
Yes. Confess to me
Which of my women ’twas you hired to put
151
Love-powder into my drink?
152
BOSOLA.
Love-powder?
JULIA.
Yes, when I was at Malfi;
153
Why should I fall in love with such a face else?
154
I have already suffered for thee so much pain,
155
The only remedy to do me good
156
Is to kill my longing.
157
BOSOLA.
Sure, your pistol holds
Nothing but perfumes or kissing-comfits: excellent lady,
158
You have a pretty way on’t to discover
159
Your longing. Come, come, I’ll disarm you
160
And arm you thus: [embraces her] yet this is wondrous strange.
161
JULIA.
Compare thy form and my eyes together,
162
You’ll find my love no such great miracle.
163
[Kisses him] Now you’ll say
164
I am wanton. This nice modesty in ladies
165
Is but a troublesome familiar
166
That haunts them.
167
BOSOLA.
Know you me, I am a blunt soldier.
168
JULIA.
The better:
Sure, there wants fire where there are no lively sparks
169
Of roughness.
170
BOSOLA.
And I want compliment.
JULIA.
Why, ignorance
In courtship cannot make you do amiss,
171
If you have a heart to do well.
172
BOSOLA.
You are very fair.
JULIA.
Nay, if you lay beauty to my charge,
173
I must plead unguilty.
174
BOSOLA.
Your bright eyes
Carry a quiver of darts in them, sharper
175
Than sunbeams.
176
JULIA.
You will mar me with commendation,
Put yourself to the charge of courting me,
177
Whereas now I woo you.
178
BOSOLA.
I have it, I will work upon this creature,
179
Let us grow most amorously familiar.
180
If the great Cardinal now should see me thus,
181
Would he not count me a villain?
182
JULIA.
No, he might count me a wanton,
183
Not lay a scruple of offense on you:
184
For if I see, and steal a diamond,
185
The fault is not i’th’ stone, but in me the thief
186
That purloins it. I am sudden with you;
187
We that are great women of pleasure, use to cut off
188
These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings,
189
And in an instant join the sweet delight
190
And the pretty excuse together: had you been i’th’ street,
191
Under my chamber window, even there
192
I should have courted you.
193
BOSOLA.
Oh, you are an excellent lady.
JULIA.
Bid me do somewhat for you presently
194
To express I love you.
195
BOSOLA.
I will, and if you love me,
Fail not to effect it.
196
The Cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy,
197
Demand the cause, let him not put you off
198
With feigned excuse; discover the main ground on’t.
199
JULIA.
Why would you know this?
200
BOSOLA.
I have depended on him,
And I hear that he is fall’n in some disgrace
201
With the Emperor: if he be, like the mice
202
That forsake falling houses, I would shift
203
To other dependence.
204
JULIA.
You shall not need follow the wars:
205
I’ll be your maintenance.
206
BOSOLA.
And I your loyal servant;
207
But I cannot leave my calling.
208
JULIA.
Not leave an
Ungrateful general for the love of a sweet lady?
209
You are like some, cannot sleep in feather-beds,
210
But must have blocks for their pillows.
211
BOSOLA.
Will you do this?
JULIA.
Cunningly.
212
BOSOLA.
Tomorrow I’ll expect th’intelligence.
JULIA.
Tomorrow? get you into my cabinet,
213
You shall have it with you: do not delay me,
214
No more than I do you. I am like one
215
That is condemned: I have my pardon promised,
216
But I would see it sealed. Go, get you in,
217
You shall see me wind my tongue about his heart
218
Like a skein of silk.
219
([Bosola withdraws behind the traverse; enter Cardinal.])
CARDINAL.
Where are you?
([Enter servants])
SERVANT.
Here.
220
CARDINAL.
Let none upon your lives
Have conference with the Prince Ferdinand,
221
Unless I know it.
222
In this distraction
He may reveal the murther.
223
([Exeunt servants.])
Yond’s my ling’ring consumption:
224
I am weary of her; and by any means
225
Would be quit of―
226
JULIA.
How now, my Lord?
What ails you?
227
CARDINAL.
Nothing.
JULIA.
Oh, you are much altered:
Come, I must be your secretary, and remove
228
This lead from off your bosom; what’s the matter?
229
CARDINAL.
I may not tell you.
230
JULIA.
Are you so far in love with sorrow,
You cannot part with part of it? or think you
231
I cannot love your Grace when you are sad,
232
As well as merry? or do you suspect
233
I, that have been a secret to your heart
234
These many winters, cannot be the same
235
Unto your tongue?
236
CARDINAL.
Satisfy thy longing.
The only way to make thee keep my counsel
237
Is not to tell thee.
238
JULIA.
Tell your echo this,
Or flatterers, that, like echoes, still report
239
What they hear, though most imperfect, and not me:
240
For, if that you be true unto yourself,
241
I’ll know.
242
CARDINAL.
Will you rack me?
JULIA.
No, judgement shall
Draw it from you. It is an equal fault,
243
To tell one’s secrets unto all, or none.
244
CARDINAL.
The first argues folly.
245
JULIA.
But the last tyranny.
CARDINAL.
Very well; why, imagine I have committed
246
Some secret deed which I desire the world
247
May never hear of!
248
JULIA.
Therefore may not I know it?
You have concealed for me as great a sin
249
As adultery. Sir, never was occasion
250
For perfect trial of my constancy
251
Till now. Sir, I beseech you.
252
CARDINAL.
You’ll repent it.
JULIA.
Never.
CARDINAL.
It hurries thee to ruin: I’ll not tell thee.
253
Be well advised, and think what danger ’tis
254
To receive a prince’s secrets: they that do,
255
Had need have their breasts hooped with adamant
256
To contain them. I pray thee yet be satisfied,
257
Examine thine own frailty; ’tis more easy
258
To tie knots, than unloose them: ’tis a secret
259
That, like a ling’ring poison, may chance lie
260
Spread in thy veins, and kill thee seven year hence.
261
JULIA.
Now you dally with me.
262
CARDINAL.
No more; thou shalt know it.
By my appointment the great Duchess of Malfi
263
And two of her young children, four nights since
264
Were strangled.
265
JULIA.
Oh Heaven! Sir, what have you done?
CARDINAL.
How now? how settles this? Think you your bosom
266
Will be a grave dark and obscure enough
267
For such a secret?
268
JULIA.
You have undone yourself, sir.
CARDINAL.
Why?
269
JULIA.
It lies not in me to conceal it.
CARDINAL.
No?
Come, I will swear you to’t upon this book.
270
JULIA.
Most religiously.
271
CARDINAL.
Kiss it.
([She kisses a Bible.])
Now you shall never utter it; thy curiosity
272
Hath undone thee; thou’rt poisoned with that book.
273
Because I knew thou couldst not keep my counsel,
274
I have bound thee to't by death.
275
([Enter Bosola])
BOSOLA.
For pity-sake, hold.
276
CARDINAL.
Ha, Bosola!
JULIA.
I forgive you
This equal piece of justice you have done:
277
For I betrayed your counsel to that fellow;
278
He overheard it; that was the cause I said
279
It lay not in me to conceal it.
280
BOSOLA.
Oh foolish woman,
Couldst not thou have poisoned him?
281
JULIA.
’Tis weakness,
Too much to think what should have been done. I go,
282
I know not whither.
283
([Dies.])
CARDINAL.
Wherefore com’st thou hither?
BOSOLA.
That I might find a great man, like yourself,
284
Not out of his wits, as the Lord Ferdinand,
285
To remember my service.
286
CARDINAL.
I’ll have thee hewed in pieces.
BOSOLA.
Make not yourself such a promise of that life
287
Which is not yours to dispose of.
288
CARDINAL.
Who placed thee here?
BOSOLA.
Her lust, as she intended.
289
CARDINAL.
Very well;
Now you know me for your fellow murderer.
290
BOSOLA.
And wherefore should you lay fair marble colours
291
Upon your rotten purposes to me?
292
Unless you imitate some that do plot great treasons,
293
And when they have done, go hide themselves i’th' graves
294
Of those were actors in't?
295
CARDINAL.
No more: there is a fortune attends thee.
296
BOSOLA.
Shall I go sue to Fortune any longer?
297
’Tis the fool's pilgrimage.
298
CARDINAL.
I have honours in store for thee.
BOSOLA.
There are a many ways that conduct to seeming
299
Honour, and some of them very dirty ones.
300
CARDINAL.
Throw to the devil
301
Thy melancholy; the fire burns well,
302
What need we keep a stirring of’t, and make
303
A greater smother? Thou wilt kill Antonio?
304
BOSOLA.
Yes.
305
CARDINAL.
Take up that body.
BOSOLA.
I think I shall
Shortly grow the common bier for churchyards!
306
CARDINAL.
I will allow thee some dozen of attendants,
307
To aid thee in the murther.
308
BOSOLA.
Oh, by no means: physicians that apply horse- leeches to any rank swelling, use to cut off their tails, that the blood may run through them the faster. Let me have no train, when I go to shed blood, lest it make me have a greater, when I ride to the gallows.
CARDINAL.
Come to me after midnight, to help to remove that body
314
To her own lodging. I’ll give out she died o'th' plague;
315
'Twill breed the less inquiry after her death.
316
BOSOLA.
Where's Castruchio her husband?
317
CARDINAL.
He's rode to Naples to take possession
318
Of Antonio's citadel.
319
BOSOLA.
Believe me, you have done a very happy turn.
320
CARDINAL.
Fail not to come. There is the master-key
321
Of our lodgings: and by that you may conceive
322
What trust I plant in you.
323
(Exit.)
BOSOLA.
You shall find me ready.
Oh poor Antonio, Though nothing be so needful
324
To thy estate, as pity, yet I find
325
Nothing so dangerous. I must look to my footing;
326
In such slippery ice-pavements, men had need
327
To be frost-nailed well: they may break their necks else.
328
The president's here afore me: how this man
329
Bears up in blood! seems fearless! Why, 'tis well:
330
Security some men call the suburbs of hell,
331
Only a dead wall between. Well, good Antonio,
332
I'll seek thee out; and all my care shall be
333
To put thee into safety from the reach
334
Of these most cruel biters, that have got
335
Some of thy blood already. It may be,
336
I'll join with thee in a most just revenge.
337
The weakest arm is strong enough, that strikes
338
With the sword of justice. Still methinks the Duchess
339
Haunts me: there, there: ’tis nothing but my melancholy.
340
O penitence, let me truly taste thy cup,
341
That throws men down, only to raise them up!
342
(Exit.)
Scene iii
([Enter Antonio and Delio; there is an ] echo (from the Duchess’s grave).)
DELIO.
Yond's the Cardinal's window. This fortification
1
Grew from the ruins of an ancient abbey:
2
And to yond side o'th' river lies a wall,
3
Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion
4
Gives the best echo that you ever heard;
5
So hollow, and so dismal, and withal
6
So plain in the distinction of our words,
7
That many have supposed it is a spirit
8
That answers.
9
ANTONIO.
I do love these ancient ruins:
We never tread upon them, but we set
10
Our foot upon some reverend history,
11
And, questionless, here in this open court,
12
Which now lies naked to the injuries
13
Of stormy weather, some men lie interred
14
Loved the church so well, and gave so largely to’t,
15
They thought it should have canopied their bones
16
Till doomsday. But all things have their end:
17
Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men
18
Must have like death that we have.
19
ECHO.
Like death that we have.
DELIO.
Now the echo hath caught you.
20
ANTONIO.
It groaned, methought, and gave
21
A very deadly accent!
22
ECHO.
Deadly accent.
DELIO.
I told you ’twas a pretty one. You may make it
23
A huntsman, or a falconer, a musician
24
Or a thing of sorrow.
25
ECHO.
A thing of sorrow.
ANTONIO.
Ay, sure: that suits it best.
26
ECHO.
That suits it best.
ANTONIO.
’Tis very like my wife's voice.
27
ECHO.
Ay, wife's voice.
DELIO.
Come: let us walk farther from’t:
28
I would not have you go to th’ Cardinal’s tonight:
29
Do not.
30
ECHO.
Do not.
DELIO.
Wisdom doth not more moderate wasting sorrow
31
Than time: take time for’t: be mindful of thy safety.
32
ECHO.
Be mindful of thy safety.
33
ANTONIO.
Necessity compels me:
Make scrutiny throughout the passes
34
Of your own life; you’ll find it impossible
35
To fly your fate.
36
ECHO.
O fly your fate.
DELIO.
Hark: the dead stones seem to have pity on you
37
And give you good counsel.
38
ANTONIO.
Echo, I will not talk with thee;
For thou art a dead thing.
39
ECHO.
Thou art a dead thing.
ANTONIO.
My Duchess is asleep now,
40
And her little ones, I hope sweetly: oh Heaven
41
Shall I never see her more?
42
ECHO.
Never see her more.
ANTONIO.
I marked not one repetition of the Echo
43
But that: and on the sudden, a clear light
44
Presented me a face folded in sorrow.
45
DELIO.
Your fancy; merely.
46
ANTONIO.
Come: I’ll be out of this ague;
For to live thus, is not indeed to live:
47
It is a mockery, and abuse of life.
48
I will not henceforth save myself by halves;
49
Lose all, or nothing.
50
DELIO.
Your own virtue save you.
I’ll fetch your eldest son; and second you:
51
It may be that the sight of his° own blood
52
Spread in so sweet a figure, may beget
53
The more compassion.
54
ANTONIO.
However, fare you well.
Though in our miseries Fortune have a part
55
Yet, in our noble suff’rings, she hath none:
56
Contempt of pain, that we may call our own
57
(Exe[unt].)
Scene iv
([Enter] Cardinal, Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo, Grisolan.)
CARDINAL.
You shall not watch tonight by the sick Prince;
1
His Grace is very well recoverèd.
2
MALATESTE.
Good my lord, suffer us.
3
CARDINAL.
Oh, by no means:
The noise and change of object in his eye
4
Doth more distract him. I pray, all to bed,
5
And though you hear him in his violent fit,
6
Do not rise, I entreat you.
7
PESCARA.
So sir, we shall not―
CARDINAL.
Nay, I must have you promise
8
Upon your honours, for I was enjoined to’t
9
By himself; and he seemed to urge it sensibly.
10
PESCARA.
Let our honours bind this trifle.
11
CARDINAL.
Nor any of your followers.
12
MALATESTE.
Neither.
CARDINAL.
It may be, to make trial of your promise
13
When he’s asleep, myself will rise, and feign
14
Some of his mad tricks, and cry out for help,
15
And feign myself in danger.
16
MALATESTE.
If your throat were cutting,
I’ll’d not come at you, now I have protested against it.
17
CARDINAL.
Why, I thank you.
18
([Withdraws])
GRISOLAN.
’Twas a foul storm tonight.
RODERIGO.
The Lord Ferdinand’s chamber shook like an osier.
19
MALATESTE.
’Twas nothing but pure kindness in the devil,
20
To rock his own child.
21
(Exeunt [Roderigo, Malataste, Pescara, Grisolan.])
CARDINAL.
The reason why I would not suffer these
22
About my brother, is because at midnight
23
I may with better privacy convey
24
Julia’s body to her own lodging. O, my conscience!
25
I would pray now: but the devil takes away my heart
26
For having any confidence in prayer.
27
About this hour I appointed Bosola
28
To fetch the body: when he hath served my turn.
29
He dies.
30
(Exit. [Enter Bosola.])
BOSOLA.
Ha? ’twas the Cardinals voice. I heard him name Bosola, and my death: listen, I hear one’s footing.
([Enter Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Strangling is a very quiet death.
33
BOSOLA.
Nay then I see, I must stand upon my guard.
34
FERDINAND.
What say’ to that? Whisper, softly: do you agree to’t?
35
So it must be done i’th’ dark: the Cardinal
36
Would not for a thousand pounds the Doctor should see it.
37
(Exit.)
BOSOLA.
My death is plotted; here’s the consequence of murther.
38
We value not desert, nor Christian breath
39
When we know black deeds must be cured with death.
40
([Withdraws. Enter Antonio and a Servant.])
SERVANT.
Here stay sir, and be confident, I pray:
41
I’ll fetch you a dark lanthorn.
42
(Exit.)
ANTONIO.
Could I take him
At his prayers, there were hope of pardon.
43
BOSOLA.
Fall right my sword: [strikes Antonio down from behind.]
44
I’ll not give thee so much leisure as to pray.
45
ANTONIO.
Oh, I am gone! Thou hast ended a long suit,
46
In a minute.
47
BOSOLA.
What art thou?
ANTONIO.
A most wretched thing
That only have thy benefit in death,
48
To appear myself.
49
([Enter Servant with a dark lanthorn.])
SERVANT.
Where are you sir?
ANTONIO.
Very near my home. Bosola?
50
SERVANT.
Oh misfortune!
BOSOLA.
[to servant] Smother thy pity, thou art dead else. Antonio?
51
The man I would have saved ’bove mine own life!
52
We are merely the star’s tennis-balls, struck and banded
53
Which way please them: oh good Antonio,
54
I’ll whisper one thing in thy dying ear,
55
Shall make thy heart break quickly. Thy fair Duchess
56
And two sweet children—
57
ANTONIO.
Their very names
Kindle a little life in me.
58
BOSOLA.
Are murdered!
ANTONIO.
Some men have wish’s to die
59
At the hearing of sad tidings: I am glad
60
That I shall do’t in sadness: I would not now
61
Wish my wounds balmed, nor healed: for I have no use
62
To put my life to. In all our quest of greatness,
63
Like wanton boys, whose pastime is their care,
64
We follow after bubbles, blown in th’air.
65
Pleasure of life, what is’t? only the good hours
66
Of an ague: merely a preparative to rest,
67
To endure vexation. I do not ask
68
The process of my death: only commend me
69
To Delio.
70
BOSOLA.
Break, heart!
71
ANTONIO.
And let my son fly the courts of princes.
72
([Dies.])
BOSOLA.
Thou seem’st to have loved Antonio?
73
SERVANT.
I brought him hither,
74
To have reconciled him to the Cardinal.
75
BOSOLA.
I do not ask thee that.
76
Take him up, if thou tender thine own life,
77
And bear him where the Lady Julia
78
Was wont to lodge. Oh, my fate moves swift.
79
I have this Cardinal in the forge already,
80
Now I’ll bring him to th’ hammer. (O direful misprision!)
81
I will not imitate things glorious,
82
No more than base: I’ll be mine own example.
83
On, on: and look thou represent, for silence,
84
The thing thou bear’st.
85
(Exeunt.)
Scene v
([Enter] Cardinal (with a book).)
CARDINAL.
I am puzzled in a question about hell:
1
He says, in hell there’s one material fire,
2
And yet it shall not burn all men alike.
3
Lay him by. How tedious is a guilty conscience!
4
When I look into the fishponds, in my garden,
5
Methinks I see a thing armed with a rake
6
That seems to strike at me. Now? Art thou come?
7
([Enter Bolosa and Servant with Antonio’s body.])
Thou look’st ghastly:
8
There sits in thy face some great determination,
9
Mixed with some fear.
10
BOSOLA.
Thus it lightens into action:
I am come to kill thee.
11
CARDINAL.
Ha? Help! our guard!
BOSOLA.
Thou art deceived:
12
They are out of thy howling.
13
CARDINAL.
Hold: and I will faithfully divide
14
Revenues with thee.
15
BOSOLA.
Thy prayers and proffers
Are both unseasonable.
16
CARDINAL.
Raise the watch:
We are betrayed!
17
BOSOLA.
I have confined your flight:
I’ll suffer your retreat to Julia’s chamber,
18
But no further.
19
CARDINAL.
Help: we are betrayed!
([Enter Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo and Grisolan, above.])
MALATESTE.
Listen.
CARDINAL.
My dukedom for rescue!
20
RODERIGO.
Fie upon his counterfeiting.
MALATESTE.
Why, ’tis not the Cardinal.
21
RODERIGO.
Yes, yes, ’tis he:
But I’ll see him hanged, ere I’ll go down to him.
22
CARDINAL.
Here’s a plot upon me; I am assaulted. I am lost,
23
Unless some rescue!
24
GRISOLAN.
He doth this pretty well:
But it will not serve to laugh me out of mine honour.
25
CARDINAL.
The sword’s at my throat!
26
RODERIGO.
You would not bawl so loud, then.
MALATESTE.
Come, come: let’s go to bed: he told us thus much aforehand.
27
PESCARA.
He wished you should not come at him: but believe’t,
28
The accent of the voice sounds not in jest.
29
I’ll down to him, howsoever, and with engines
30
[Exit.] Force ope the doors.
31
RODERIGO.
Let’s follow him aloof,
And note how the Cardinal will laugh at him.
32
([Exeunt above.])
BOSOLA.
There’s for you first:
33
’Cause you shall not unbarricade the door
34
To let in rescue.
35
(He kills the Servant.)
CARDINAL.
What cause hast thou to pursue my life?
36
BOSOLA.
Look there.
CARDINAL.
Antonio!
37
BOSOLA.
Slain by my hand unwittingly.
Pray, and be sudden: when thou killed’st thy sister,
38
Thou took’st from Justice her most equal balance,
39
And left her naught but her sword.
40
CARDINAL.
O mercy!
BOSOLA.
Now it seems thy greatness was only outward:
41
For thou fall’st faster of thyself than calamity
42
Can drive thee. I’ll not waste longer time. There.
43
([Stabs the Cardinal.])
CARDINAL.
Thou hast hurt me!
44
BOSOLA.
Again!
([Stabs him again.])
CARDINAL.
Shall I die like a leveret
45
Without any resistance? Help, help, help!
46
I am slain!
47
([Enter] Ferdinand.])
FERDINAND.
Th’alarum? give me a fresh horse.
Rally the vaunt-guard; or the day is lost.
48
Yield, yield! I give you the honour of arms,
49
Shake my sword over you, will you yield?
50
CARDINAL.
Help me, I am your brother.
51
FERDINAND.
The devil?
My brother fight upon the adverse party?
52
((He wounds the Cardinal and, in the scuffle, gives Bosola his death wound.))
There flies your ransome.
53
CARDINAL.
Oh Justice:
I suffer now for what hath former bin
54
Sorrow is held the eldest child of sin.
55
FERDINAND.
Now you’re brave fellows. Caesar’s fortune was harder than Pompey’s: Caesar died in the arms of prosperity, Pompey at the feet of disgrace: you both died in the field, the pain’s nothing. Pain many times is taken away with the apprehension of greater, as the tooth- ache with the sight of a barber that comes to pull it out: there’s philosophy for you.
BOSOLA.
Now my revenge is perfect: sink, thou main cause
63
Of my undoing: the last part of my life
64
Hath done me best service.
65
(He kills Ferdinand.)
FERDINAND.
Give me some wet hay, I am broken winded.
66
I do account this world but a dog-kennel:
67
I will vault credit, and affect high pleasures
68
Beyond death.
69
BOSOLA.
He seems to come to himself,
Now he’s so near the bottom.
70
FERDINAND.
My sister, oh! my sister, there’s the cause on’t.
71
Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust,
72
Like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust.
73
([Dies.])
CARDINAL.
Thou hast thy payment too.
74
BOSOLA.
Yes, I hold my weary soul in my teeth;
75
’Tis ready to part from me. I do glory
76
That thou, which stood’st like a huge pyramid
77
Begun upon a large and ample base,
78
Shalt end in a little point, a kind of nothing.
79
([Enter Pescara, Malateste, Roderigo, and Grisolan.])
PESCARA.
How now, my lord?
80
MALATESTE.
O sad disaster!
RODERIGO.
How comes this?
BOSOLA.
Revenge, for the Duchess of Malfi, murdered
81
By th’ Aragonian brethren; for Antonio,
82
Slain by this hand; for lustful Julia,
83
Poisoned by this man; and lastly, for myself,
84
That was an actor in the main of all,
85
Much ’gainst mine own good nature, yet i’th’ end
86
Neglected.
87
PESCARA.
How now, my lord?
CARDINAL.
Look to my brother:
He gave us these large wounds, as we were struggling
88
Here i’th’rushes. And now, I pray, let me
89
Be laid by, and never thought of.
90
([Dies.])
PESCARA.
How fatally, it seems, he did withstand
91
His own rescue!
92
MALATESTE.
Thou wretched thing of blood,
How came Antonio by his death?
93
BOSOLA.
In a mist: I know not how;
94
Such a mistake as I have often seen
95
In a play. Oh, I am gone:
96
We are only like dead walls, or vaulted graves
97
That, ruined, yields no echo. Fare you well;
98
It may be pain: but no harm to me to die
99
In so good a quarrel. Oh this gloomy world,
100
In what a shadow, or deep pit of darkness
101
Doth, womanish, and fearful, mankind live?
102
Let worthy minds ne'er stagger in distrust
103
To suffer death or shame for what is just:
104
Mine is another voyage.
105
([Dies.])
PESCARA.
The noble Delio, as I came to th’palace,
106
Told me of Antonio’s being here, and showed me
107
A pretty gentleman his son and heir.
108
([Enter Delio with Antonio’s son.])
MALATESTE.
O sir, you come too late.
109
DELIO.
I heard so, and
Was armed for’t ere I came. Let us make noble use
110
Of this great ruin; and join all our force
111
To establish this young hopeful gentleman
112
In’s mother's right. These wretched eminent things
113
Leave no more fame behind ’em, than should one
114
Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow,
115
As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts
116
Both form and matter. I have ever thought
117
Nature doth nothing so great for great men,
118
As when she’s pleased to make them lords of truth:
119
Integrity of life is fame’s best friend,
120
Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end.
121
(Exeunt.)