Scene II[45][Enter] BOSOLA and Old LadyBOSOLA. So, so, there 's no question but her techiness[46]and most vulturous eating of the apricocks are apparent signsof breeding, now?OLD LADY. I am in haste, sir.BOSOLA. There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desireto see the glass-house——OLD LADY. Nay, pray, let me go. I will hear no moreof the glass-house. You are still[47]abusing women!BOSOLA. Who, I? No; only, by the way now and then, mention yourfrailties. The orange-tree bears ripe and green fruit and blossomsall together; 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 showersthat rained in the time of Jupiter the thunderer, you have the sameDanaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thounever study the mathematics?OLD LADY. What 's that, sir?BOSOLA. Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in onecentre. Go, go, give your foster-daughters good counsel: tell them,that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman's girdle, likea false rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes.[Exit Old Lady.][Enter ANTONIO, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN]ANTONIO. Shut up the court-gates.RODERIGO. Why, sir? What 's the danger?ANTONIO. Shut up the posterns presently, and callAll the officers o' th' court.GRISOLAN. I shall instantly.[Exit.]ANTONIO. Who keeps the key o' th' park-gate?RODERIGO. Forobosco.ANTONIO. Let him bring 't presently.[Re-enter GRISOLAN with Servants]FIRST SERVANT. O, gentleman o' th' court, the foulest treason!BOSOLA. [Aside.] If that these apricocks should be poison'd now,Without my knowledge?FIRST SERVANT.There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess' bed-chamber——SECOND SERVANT. A Switzer!FIRST SERVANT. With a pistol——SECOND SERVANT. There was a cunning traitor!FIRST SERVANT.And all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets.SECOND SERVANT. O wicked cannibal!FIRST SERVANT. 'Twas a French plot, upon my life.SECOND SERVANT. To see what the devil can do!ANTONIO. [Are] all the officers here?SERVANTS. We are.ANTONIO. Gentlemen,We have lost much plate, you know; and but this eveningJewels, to the value of four thousand ducats,Are missing in the duchess' cabinet.Are the gates shut?SERVANT. Yes.ANTONIO. 'Tis the duchess' pleasureEach officer be lock'd into his chamberTill the sun-rising; and to send the keysOf all their chests and of their outward doorsInto her bed-chamber. She is very sick.RODERIGO. At her pleasure.ANTONIO. She entreats you take 't not ill: the innocentShall be the more approv'd by it.BOSOLA. Gentlemen o' the wood-yard, where 's your Switzer now?FIRST SERVANT. By this hand, 'twas credibly reported by oneo' the black guard.[48][Exeunt all except ANTONIO and DELIO.]DELIO. How fares it with the duchess?ANTONIO. She 's expos'dUnto the worst of torture, pain, and fear.DELIO. Speak to her all happy comfort.ANTONIO. How I do play the fool with mine own danger!You are this night, dear friend, to post to Rome:My life lies in your service.DELIO. Do not doubt me.ANTONIO. O, 'tis far from me: and yet fear presents meSomewhat that looks like danger.DELIO. Believe it,'Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more:How superstitiously we mind our evils!The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare,Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,Or singing of a cricket, are of powerTo daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well:I wish you all the joys of a bless'd father;And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast,—Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.[Exit.][Enter CARIOLA]CARIOLA. Sir, you are the happy father of a son:Your wife commends him to you.ANTONIO. Blessed comfort!—For heaven' sake, tend her well: I 'll presently[49]Go set a figure for 's nativity.[50]Exeunt.
Scene III[51][Enter BOSOLA, with a dark lantern]BOSOLA. Sure I did hear a woman shriek: list, ha!And the sound came, if I receiv'd it right,]From the duchess' lodgings. There 's some stratagemIn the confining all our courtiersTo their several wards: I must have part of it;My intelligence will freeze else. List, again!It may be 'twas the melancholy bird,Best friend of silence and of solitariness,The owl, that screamed so.—Ha! Antonio![Enter ANTONIO with a candle, his sword drawn]ANTONIO. I heard some noise.—Who 's there? What art thou? Speak.BOSOLA. Antonio, put not your face nor bodyTo such a forc'd expression of fear;I am Bosola, your friend.ANTONIO. Bosola!—[Aside.] This mole does undermine me.—Heard you notA noise even now?BOSOLA. From whence?ANTONIO. From the duchess' lodging.BOSOLA. Not I: did you?ANTONIO. I did, or else I dream'd.BOSOLA. Let 's walk towards it.ANTONIO. No: it may be 'twasBut the rising of the wind.BOSOLA. Very likely.Methinks 'tis very cold, and yet you sweat:You look wildly.ANTONIO. I have been setting a figure[52]For the duchess' jewels.BOSOLA. Ah, and how falls your question?Do you find it radical?[53]ANTONIO. What 's that to you?'Tis rather to be question'd what design,When all men were commanded to their lodgings,Makes you a night-walker.BOSOLA. In sooth, I 'll tell you:Now all the court 's asleep, I thought the devilHad least to do here; I came to say my prayers;And if it do offend you I do so,You are a fine courtier.ANTONIO. [Aside.] This fellow will undo me.—You gave the duchess apricocks to-day:Pray heaven they were not poison'd!BOSOLA. Poison'd! a Spanish figFor the imputation!ANTONIO. Traitors are ever confidentTill they are discover'd. There were jewels stol'n too:In my conceit, none are to be suspectedMore than yourself.BOSOLA. You are a false steward.ANTONIO. Saucy slave, I 'll pull thee up by the roots.BOSOLA. May be the ruin will crush you to pieces.ANTONIO. You are an impudent snake indeed, sir:Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?You libel[54]well, sir?BOSOLA. No, sir: copy it out,And I will set my hand to 't.ANTONIO. [Aside.] My nose bleeds.One that were superstitious would countThis ominous, when it merely comes by chance.Two letters, that are wrought here for my name,[55]Are drown'd in blood!Mere accident.—For you, sir, I 'll take orderI' the morn you shall be safe.—[Aside.] 'Tis that must colourHer lying-in.—Sir, this door you pass not:I do not hold it fit that you come nearThe duchess' lodgings, till you have quit yourself.—[Aside.] The great are like the base, nay, they are the same,When they seek shameful ways to avoid shame.Exit.BOSOLA. Antonio hereabout did drop a paper:—Some of your help, false friend.[56]—O, here it is.What 's here? a child's nativity calculated![Reads.]'The duchess was deliver'd of a son, 'tween the hourstwelve and one in the night, Anno Dom. 1504,'—that 'sthis year—'decimo nono Decembris,'—that 's this night—'taken according to the meridian of Malfi,'—that 's ourduchess: happy discovery!—'The lord of the first housebeing combust in the ascendant, signifies short life;and Mars being in a human sign, joined to the tail of theDragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a violent death.Caetera non scrutantur.'[57]Why, now 'tis most apparent; this precise fellowIs the duchess' bawd:—I have it to my wish!This is a parcel of intelligency[58]Our courtiers were cas'd up for: it needs must followThat I must be committed on pretenceOf poisoning her; which I 'll endure, and laugh at.If one could find the father now! but thatTime will discover. Old CastruccioI' th' morning posts to Rome: by him I 'll sendA letter that shall make her brothers' gallsO'erflow their livers. This was a thrifty[59]way!Though lust do mask in ne'er so strange disguise,She 's oft found witty, but is never wise.[Exit.]
Scene IV[60][Enter] CARDINAL and JULIACARDINAL. Sit: thou art my best of wishes. Prithee, tell meWhat trick didst thou invent to come to RomeWithout thy husband?JULIA. Why, my lord, I told himI came to visit an old anchorite[61]Here for devotion.CARDINAL. Thou art a witty false one,—I mean, to him.JULIA. You have prevail'd with meBeyond my strongest thoughts; I would not nowFind you inconstant.CARDINAL. Do not put thyselfTo such a voluntary torture, which proceedsOut of your own guilt.JULIA. How, my lord!CARDINAL. You fearMy constancy, because you have approv'd[62]Those giddy and wild turnings in yourself.JULIA. Did you e'er find them?CARDINAL. Sooth, generally for women,A man might strive to make glass malleable,Ere he should make them fixed.JULIA. So, my lord.CARDINAL. We had need go borrow that fantastic glassInvented by Galileo the FlorentineTo view another spacious world i' th' moon,And look to find a constant woman there.JULIA. This is very well, my lord.CARDINAL. Why do you weep?Are tears your justification? The self-same tearsWill fall into your husband's bosom, lady,With a loud protestation that you love himAbove the world. Come, I 'll love you wisely,That 's jealously; since I am very certainYou cannot make me cuckold.JULIA. I 'll go homeTo my husband.CARDINAL. You may thank me, lady,I have taken you off your melancholy perch,Bore you upon my fist, and show'd you game,And let you fly at it.—I pray thee, kiss me.—When thou wast with thy husband, thou wast watch'dLike a tame elephant:—still you are to thank me:—Thou hadst only kisses from him and high feeding;But what delight was that? 'Twas just like oneThat hath a little fing'ring on the lute,Yet cannot tune it:—still you are to thank me.JULIA. You told me of a piteous wound i' th' heart,And a sick liver, when you woo'd me first,And spake like one in physic.[63]CARDINAL. Who 's that?——[Enter Servant]Rest firm, for my affection to thee,Lightning moves slow to 't.SERVANT. Madam, a gentleman,That 's come post from Malfi, desires to see you.CARDINAL. Let him enter: I 'll withdraw.Exit.SERVANT. He saysYour husband, old Castruccio, is come to Rome,Most pitifully tir'd with riding post.[Exit.][Enter DELIO]JULIA. [Aside.] Signior Delio! 'tis one of my old suitors.DELIO. I was bold to come and see you.JULIA. Sir, you are welcome.DELIO. Do you lie here?JULIA. Sure, your own experienceWill satisfy you no: our Roman prelatesDo not keep lodging for ladies.DELIO. Very well:I have brought you no commendations from your husband,For I know none by him.JULIA. I hear he 's come to Rome.DELIO. I never knew man and beast, of a horse and a knight,So weary of each other. If he had had a good back,He would have undertook to have borne his horse,His breech was so pitifully sore.JULIA. Your laughterIs my pity.DELIO. Lady, I know not whetherYou want money, but I have brought you some.JULIA. From my husband?DELIO. No, from mine own allowance.JULIA. I must hear the condition, ere I be bound to take it.DELIO. Look on 't, 'tis gold; hath it not a fine colour?JULIA. I have a bird more beautiful.DELIO. Try the sound on 't.JULIA. A lute-string far exceeds it.It hath no smell, like cassia or civet;Nor is it physical,[64]though some fond doctorsPersuade us seethe 't in cullises.[65]I 'll tell you,This is a creature bred by——[Re-enter Servant]SERVANT. Your husband 's come,Hath deliver'd a letter to the Duke of CalabriaThat, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits.[Exit.]JULIA. Sir, you hear:Pray, let me know your business and your suitAs briefly as can be.DELIO. With good speed: I would wish you,At such time as you are non-residentWith your husband, my mistress.JULIA. Sir, I 'll go ask my husband if I shall,And straight return your answer.Exit.DELIO. Very fine!Is this her wit, or honesty, that speaks thus?I heard one say the duke was highly mov'dWith a letter sent from Malfi. I do fearAntonio is betray'd. How fearfullyShows his ambition now! Unfortunate fortune!They pass through whirl-pools, and deep woes do shun,Who the event weigh ere the action 's done.Exit.
Scene V[66][Enter] CARDINAL and FERDINAND with a letterFERDINAND. I have this night digg'd up a mandrake.[67]CARDINAL. Say you?FERDINAND. And I am grown mad with 't.CARDINAL. What 's the prodigy[?]FERDINAND.Read there,—a sister damn'd: she 's loose i' the hilts;[68]Grown a notorious strumpet.CARDINAL. Speak lower.FERDINAND. Lower!Rogues do not whisper 't now, but seek to publish 't(As servants do the bounty of their lords)Aloud; and with a covetous searching eye,To mark who note them. O, confusion seize her!She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her turn,And more secure conveyances for lustThan towns of garrison for service.CARDINAL. Is 't possible?Can this be certain?FERDINAND. Rhubarb, O, for rhubarbTo purge this choler! Here 's the cursed dayTo prompt my memory; and here 't shall stickTill of her bleeding heart I make a spongeTo wipe it out.CARDINAL. Why do you make yourselfSo wild a tempest?FERDINAND. Would I could be one,That I might toss her palace 'bout her ears,Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads,And lay her general territory as wasteAs she hath done her honours.CARDINAL. Shall our blood,The royal blood of Arragon and Castile,Be thus attainted?FERDINAND. Apply desperate physic:We must not now use balsamum, but fire,The smarting cupping-glass, for that 's the meanTo purge infected blood, such blood as hers.There is a kind of pity in mine eye,—I 'll give it to my handkercher; and now 'tis here,I 'll bequeath this to her bastard.CARDINAL. What to do?FERDINAND. Why, to make soft lint for his mother's wounds,When I have hew'd her to pieces.CARDINAL. Curs'd creature!Unequal nature, to place women's heartsSo far upon the left side![69]FERDINAND. Foolish men,That e'er will trust their honour in a barkMade of so slight weak bulrush as is woman,Apt every minute to sink it!CARDINAL. Thus ignorance, when it hath purchas'd honour,It cannot wield it.FERDINAND. Methinks I see her laughing,—Excellent hyena! Talk to me somewhat quickly,Or my imagination will carry meTo see her in the shameful act of sin.CARDINAL. With whom?FERDINAND. Happily with some strong-thigh'd bargeman,Or one o' th' wood-yard that can quoit the sledge[70]Or toss the bar, or else some lovely squireThat carries coals up to her privy lodgings.CARDINAL. You fly beyond your reason.FERDINAND. Go to, mistress!'Tis not your whore's milk that shall quench my wild-fire,But your whore's blood.CARDINAL. How idly shows this rage, which carries you,As men convey'd by witches through the air,On violent whirlwinds! This intemperate noiseFitly resembles deaf men's shrill discourse,Who talk aloud, thinking all other menTo have their imperfection.FERDINAND. Have not youMy palsy?CARDINAL. Yes, [but] I can be angryWithout this rupture. There is not in natureA thing that makes man so deform'd, so beastly,As doth intemperate anger. Chide yourself.You have divers men who never yet express'dTheir strong desire of rest but by unrest,By vexing of themselves. Come, put yourselfIn tune.FERDINAND. So I will only study to seemThe thing I am not. I could kill her now,In you, or in myself; for I do thinkIt is some sin in us heaven doth revengeBy her.CARDINAL. Are you stark mad?FERDINAND. I would have their bodiesBurnt in a coal-pit with the ventage stopp'd,That their curs'd smoke might not ascend to heaven;Or dip the sheets they lie in in pitch or sulphur,Wrap them in 't, and then light them like a match;Or else to-boil[71]their bastard to a cullis,And give 't his lecherous father to renewThe sin of his back.CARDINAL. I 'll leave you.FERDINAND. Nay, I have done.I am confident, had I been damn'd in hell,And should have heard of this, it would have put meInto a cold sweat. In, in; I 'll go sleep.Till I know who [loves] my sister, I 'll not stir:That known, I 'll find scorpions to string my whips,And fix her in a general eclipse.Exeunt.
Act III
Scene I[72][Enter] ANTONIO and DELIOANTONIO. Our noble friend, my most beloved Delio!O, you have been a stranger long at court:Came you along with the Lord Ferdinand?DELIO. I did, sir: and how fares your noble duchess?ANTONIO. Right fortunately well: she 's an excellentFeeder of pedigrees; since you last saw her,She hath had two children more, a son and daughter.DELIO. Methinks 'twas yesterday. Let me but wink,And not behold your face, which to mine eyeIs somewhat leaner, verily I should dreamIt were within this half hour.ANTONIO. You have not been in law, friend Delio,Nor in prison, nor a suitor at the court,Nor begg'd the reversion of some great man's place,Nor troubled with an old wife, which doth makeYour time so insensibly hasten.DELIO. Pray, sir, tell me,Hath not this news arriv'd yet to the earOf the lord cardinal?ANTONIO. I fear it hath:The Lord Ferdinand, that 's newly come to court,Doth bear himself right dangerously.DELIO. Pray, why?ANTONIO. He is so quiet that he seems to sleepThe tempest out, as dormice do in winter.Those houses that are haunted are most stillTill the devil be up.DELIO. What say the common people?ANTONIO. The common rabble do directly sayShe is a strumpet.DELIO. And your graver headsWhich would be politic, what censure they?ANTONIO. They do observe I grow to infinite purchase,[73]The left hand way; and all suppose the duchessWould amend it, if she could; for, say they,Great princes, though they grudge their officersShould have such large and unconfined meansTo get wealth under them, will not complain,Lest thereby they should make them odiousUnto the people. For other obligationOf love or marriage between her and meThey never dream of.DELIO. The Lord FerdinandIs going to bed.[Enter DUCHESS, FERDINAND, and Attendants]FERDINAND. I 'll instantly to bed,For I am weary.—I am to bespeakA husband for you.DUCHESS. For me, sir! Pray, who is 't?FERDINAND. The great Count Malatesti.DUCHESS. Fie upon him!A count! He 's a mere stick of sugar-candy;You may look quite through him. When I chooseA husband, I will marry for your honour.FERDINAND. You shall do well in 't.—How is 't, worthy Antonio?DUCHESS. But, sir, I am to have private conference with youAbout a scandalous report is spreadTouching mine honour.FERDINAND. Let me be ever deaf to 't:One of Pasquil's paper-bullets,[74]court-calumny,A pestilent air, which princes' palacesAre seldom purg'd of. Yet, say that it were true,I pour it in your bosom, my fix'd loveWould strongly excuse, extenuate, nay, denyFaults, were they apparent in you. Go, be safeIn your own innocency.DUCHESS. [Aside.] O bless'd comfort!This deadly air is purg'd.Exeunt [DUCHESS, ANTONIO, DELIO, and Attendants.]FERDINAND. Her guilt treads onHot-burning coulters.[75]Enter BOSOLANow, Bosola,How thrives our intelligence?[76]BOSOLA. Sir, uncertainly:'Tis rumour'd she hath had three bastards, butBy whom we may go read i' the stars.FERDINAND. Why, someHold opinion all things are written there.BOSOLA. Yes, if we could find spectacles to read them.I do suspect there hath been some sorceryUs'd on the duchess.FERDINAND. Sorcery! to what purpose?BOSOLA. To make her dote on some desertless fellowShe shames to acknowledge.FERDINAND. Can your faith give wayTo think there 's power in potions or in charms,To make us love whether we will or no?BOSOLA. Most certainly.FERDINAND. Away! these are mere gulleries,[77]horrid things,Invented by some cheating mountebanksTo abuse us. Do you think that herbs or charmsCan force the will? Some trials have been madeIn this foolish practice, but the ingredientsWere lenitive[78]poisons, such as are of forceTo make the patient mad; and straight the witchSwears by equivocation they are in love.The witch-craft lies in her rank blood. This nightI will force confession from her. You told meYou had got, within these two days, a false keyInto her bed-chamber.BOSOLA. I have.FERDINAND. As I would wish.BOSOLA. What do you intend to do?FERDINAND. Can you guess?BOSOLA. No.FERDINAND. Do not ask, then:He that can compass me, and know my drifts,May say he hath put a girdle 'bout the world,And sounded all her quick-sands.BOSOLA. I do notThink so.FERDINAND. What do you think, then, pray?BOSOLA. That youAre your own chronicle too much, and grosslyFlatter yourself.FERDINAND. Give me thy hand; I thank thee:I never gave pension but to flatterers,Till I entertained thee. Farewell.That friend a great man's ruin strongly checks,Who rails into his belief all his defects.Exeunt.
Scene II[79][Enter] DUCHESS, ANTONIO, and CARIOLADUCHESS. Bring me the casket hither, and the glass.—You get no lodging here to-night, my lord.ANTONIO. Indeed, I must persuade one.DUCHESS. Very good:I hope in time 'twill grow into a custom,That noblemen shall come with cap and kneeTo purchase a night's lodging of their wives.ANTONIO. I must lie here.DUCHESS. Must! You are a lord of mis-rule.ANTONIO. Indeed, my rule is only in the night.DUCHESS. I 'll stop your mouth.[Kisses him.]ANTONIO. Nay, that 's but one; Venus had two soft dovesTo draw her chariot; I must have another.—[She kisses him again.]When wilt thou marry, Cariola?CARIOLA. Never, my lord.ANTONIO. O, fie upon this single life! forgo it.We read how Daphne, for her peevish [flight,][80]Became a fruitless bay-tree; Syrinx turn'dTo the pale empty reed; AnaxareteWas frozen into marble: whereas thoseWhich married, or prov'd kind unto their friends,Were by a gracious influence transhap'dInto the olive, pomegranate, mulberry,Became flowers, precious stones, or eminent stars.CARIOLA. This is a vain poetry: but I pray you, tell me,If there were propos'd me, wisdom, riches, and beauty,In three several young men, which should I choose?ANTONIO. 'Tis a hard question. This was Paris' case,And he was blind in 't, and there was a great cause;For how was 't possible he could judge right,Having three amorous goddesses in view,And they stark naked? 'Twas a motionWere able to benight the apprehensionOf the severest counsellor of Europe.Now I look on both your faces so well form'd,It puts me in mind of a question I would ask.CARIOLA. What is 't?ANTONIO. I do wonder why hard-favour'd ladies,For the most part, keep worse-favour'd waiting-womenTo attend them, and cannot endure fair ones.DUCHESS. O, that 's soon answer'd.Did you ever in your life know an ill painterDesire to have his dwelling next door to the shopOf an excellent picture-maker? 'Twould disgraceHis face-making, and undo him. I prithee,When were we so merry?—My hair tangles.ANTONIO. Pray thee, Cariola, let 's steal forth the room,And let her talk to herself: I have divers timesServ'd her the like, when she hath chaf'd extremely.I love to see her angry. Softly, Cariola.Exeunt [ANTONIO and CARIOLA.]DUCHESS. Doth not the colour of my hair 'gin to change?When I wax gray, I shall have all the courtPowder their hair with arras,[81]to be like me.You have cause to love me; I ent'red you into my heart[Enter FERDINAND unseen]Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys.We shall one day have my brothers take you napping.Methinks his presence, being now in court,Should make you keep your own bed; but you 'll sayLove mix'd with fear is sweetest. I 'll assure you,You shall get no more children till my brothersConsent to be your gossips. Have you lost your tongue?'Tis welcome:For know, whether I am doom'd to live or die,I can do both like a prince.FERDINAND. Die, then, quickly!Giving her a poniard.Virtue, where art thou hid? What hideous thingIs it that doth eclipse thee?DUCHESS. Pray, sir, hear me.FERDINAND. Or is it true thou art but a bare name,And no essential thing?DUCHESS. Sir——FERDINAND. Do not speak.DUCHESS. No, sir:I will plant my soul in mine ears, to hear you.FERDINAND. O most imperfect light of human reason,That mak'st [us] so unhappy to foreseeWhat we can least prevent! Pursue thy wishes,And glory in them: there 's in shame no comfortBut to be past all bounds and sense of shame.DUCHESS. I pray, sir, hear me: I am married.FERDINAND. So!DUCHESS. Happily, not to your liking: but for that,Alas, your shears do come untimely nowTo clip the bird's wings that 's already flown!Will you see my husband?FERDINAND. Yes, if I could changeEyes with a basilisk.DUCHESS. Sure, you came hitherBy his confederacy.FERDINAND. The howling of a wolfIs music to thee, screech-owl: prithee, peace.—Whate'er thou art that hast enjoy'd my sister,For I am sure thou hear'st me, for thine own sakeLet me not know thee. I came hither prepar'dTo work thy discovery; yet am now persuadedIt would beget such violent effectsAs would damn us both. I would not for ten millionsI had beheld thee: therefore use all meansI never may have knowledge of thy name;Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life,On that condition.—And for thee, vile woman,If thou do wish thy lecher may grow oldIn thy embracements, I would have thee buildSuch a room for him as our anchoritesTo holier use inhabit. Let not the sunShine on him till he 's dead; let dogs and monkeysOnly converse with him, and such dumb thingsTo whom nature denies use to sound his name;Do not keep a paraquito, lest she learn it;If thou do love him, cut out thine own tongue,Lest it bewray him.DUCHESS. Why might not I marry?I have not gone about in this to createAny new world or custom.FERDINAND. Thou art undone;And thou hast ta'en that massy sheet of leadThat hid thy husband's bones, and folded itAbout my heart.DUCHESS. Mine bleeds for 't.FERDINAND. Thine! thy heart!What should I name 't unless a hollow bulletFill'd with unquenchable wild-fire?DUCHESS. You are in thisToo strict; and were you not my princely brother,I would say, too wilful: my reputationIs safe.FERDINAND. Dost thou know what reputation is?I 'll tell thee,—to small purpose, since the instructionComes now too late.Upon a time Reputation, Love, and Death,Would travel o'er the world; and it was concludedThat they should part, and take three several ways.Death told them, they should find him in great battles,Or cities plagu'd with plagues: Love gives them counselTo inquire for him 'mongst unambitious shepherds,Where dowries were not talk'd of, and sometimes'Mongst quiet kindred that had nothing leftBy their dead parents: 'Stay,' quoth Reputation,'Do not forsake me; for it is my nature,If once I part from any man I meet,I am never found again.' And so for you:You have shook hands with Reputation,And made him invisible. So, fare you well:I will never see you more.DUCHESS. Why should only I,Of all the other princes of the world,Be cas'd up, like a holy relic? I have youthAnd a little beauty.FERDINAND. So you have some virginsThat are witches. I will never see thee more.Exit.Re-enter ANTONIO with a pistol, [and CARIOLA]DUCHESS. You saw this apparition?ANTONIO. Yes: we areBetray'd. How came he hither? I should turnThis to thee, for that.CARIOLA. Pray, sir, do; and whenThat you have cleft my heart, you shall read thereMine innocence.DUCHESS. That gallery gave him entrance.ANTONIO. I would this terrible thing would come again,That, standing on my guard, I might relateMy warrantable love.—(She shows the poniard.)Ha! what means this?DUCHESS. He left this with me.ANTONIO. And it seems did wishYou would use it on yourself.DUCHESS. His action seem'dTo intend so much.ANTONIO. This hath a handle to 't,As well as a point: turn it towards him, andSo fasten the keen edge in his rank gall.[Knocking within.]How now! who knocks? More earthquakes?DUCHESS. I standAs if a mine beneath my feet were readyTo be blown up.CARIOLA. 'Tis Bosola.DUCHESS. Away!O misery! methinks unjust actionsShould wear these masks and curtains, and not we.You must instantly part hence: I have fashion'd it already.Exit ANTONIO.Enter BOSOLABOSOLA. The duke your brother is ta'en up in a whirlwind;Hath took horse, and 's rid post to Rome.DUCHESS. So late?BOSOLA. He told me, as he mounted into the saddle,You were undone.DUCHESS. Indeed, I am very near it.BOSOLA. What 's the matter?DUCHESS. Antonio, the master of our household,Hath dealt so falsely with me in 's accounts.My brother stood engag'd with me for moneyTa'en up of certain Neapolitan Jews,And Antonio lets the bonds be forfeit.BOSOLA. Strange!—[Aside.] This is cunning.DUCHESS. And hereuponMy brother's bills at Naples are protestedAgainst.—Call up our officers.BOSOLA. I shall.Exit.[Re-enter ANTONIO]DUCHESS. The place that you must fly to is Ancona:Hire a house there; I 'll send after youMy treasure and my jewels. Our weak safetyRuns upon enginous wheels:[82]short syllablesMust stand for periods. I must now accuse youOf such a feigned crime as Tasso callsMagnanima menzogna, a noble lie,'Cause it must shield our honours.—Hark! they are coming.[Re-enter BOSOLA and Officers]ANTONIO. Will your grace hear me?DUCHESS. I have got well by you; you have yielded meA million of loss: I am like to inheritThe people's curses for your stewardship.You had the trick in audit-time to be sick,Till I had sign'd your quietus;[83]and that cur'd youWithout help of a doctor.—Gentlemen,I would have this man be an example to you all;So shall you hold my favour; I pray, let him;For h'as done that, alas, you would not think of,And, because I intend to be rid of him,I mean not to publish.—Use your fortune elsewhere.ANTONIO. I am strongly arm'd to brook my overthrow,As commonly men bear with a hard year.I will not blame the cause on 't; but do thinkThe necessity of my malevolent starProcures this, not her humour. O, the inconstantAnd rotten ground of service! You may see,'Tis even like him, that in a winter night,Takes a long slumber o'er a dying fire,A-loth to part from 't; yet parts thence as coldAs when he first sat down.DUCHESS. We do confiscate,Towards the satisfying of your accounts,All that you have.ANTONIO. I am all yours; and 'tis very fitAll mine should be so.DUCHESS. So, sir, you have your pass.ANTONIO. You may see, gentlemen, what 'tis to serveA prince with body and soul.Exit.BOSOLA. Here 's an example for extortion: what moisture is drawnout of the sea, when foul weather comes, pours down, and runs intothe sea again.DUCHESS. I would know what are your opinionsOf this Antonio.SECOND OFFICER. He could not abide to see a pig's head gaping:I thought your grace would find him a Jew.THIRD OFFICER. I would you had been his officer, for your own sake.FOURTH OFFICER. You would have had more money.FIRST OFFICER. He stopped his ears with black wool, and to those cameto him for money said he was thick of hearing.SECOND OFFICER. Some said he was an hermaphrodite, for he could notabide a woman.FOURTH OFFICER. How scurvy proud he would look when the treasurywas full! Well, let him go.FIRST OFFICER. Yes, and the chippings of the buttery fly after him,to scour his gold chain.[84]DUCHESS. Leave us.Exeunt [Officers.]What do you think of these?BOSOLA. That these are rogues that in 's prosperity,But to have waited on his fortune, could have wish'dHis dirty stirrup riveted through their noses,And follow'd after 's mule, like a bear in a ring;Would have prostituted their daughters to his lust;Made their first-born intelligencers;[85]thought none happyBut such as were born under his blest planet,And wore his livery: and do these lice drop off now?Well, never look to have the like again:He hath left a sort[86]of flattering rogues behind him;Their doom must follow. Princes pay flatterersIn their own money: flatterers dissemble their vices,And they dissemble their lies; that 's justice.Alas, poor gentleman!DUCHESS. Poor! he hath amply fill'd his coffers.BOSOLA. Sure, he was too honest. Pluto,[87]the god of riches,When he 's sent by Jupiter to any man,He goes limping, to signify that wealthThat comes on God's name comes slowly; but when he's sentOn the devil's errand, he rides post and comes in by scuttles.[88]Let me show you what a most unvalu'd jewelYou have in a wanton humour thrown away,To bless the man shall find him. He was an excellentCourtier and most faithful; a soldier that thought itAs beastly to know his own value too littleAs devilish to acknowledge it too much.Both his virtue and form deserv'd a far better fortune:His discourse rather delighted to judge itself than show itself:His breast was fill'd with all perfection,And yet it seemed a private whisp'ring-room,It made so little noise of 't.DUCHESS. But he was basely descended.BOSOLA. Will you make yourself a mercenary herald,Rather to examine men's pedigrees than virtues?You shall want[89]him:For know an honest statesman to a princeIs like a cedar planted by a spring;The spring bathes the tree's root, the grateful treeRewards it with his shadow: you have not done so.I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes onTwo politicians' rotten bladders, tiedTogether with an intelligencer's heart-string,Than depend on so changeable a prince's favour.Fare thee well, Antonio! Since the malice of the worldWould needs down with thee, it cannot be said yetThat any ill happen'd unto thee, considering thy fallWas accompanied with virtue.DUCHESS. O, you render me excellent music!BOSOLA. Say you?DUCHESS. This good one that you speak of is my husband.BOSOLA. Do I not dream? Can this ambitious ageHave so much goodness in 't as to preferA man merely for worth, without these shadowsOf wealth and painted honours? Possible?DUCHESS. I have had three children by him.BOSOLA. Fortunate lady!For you have made your private nuptial bedThe humble and fair seminary of peace,No question but: many an unbenefic'd scholarShall pray for you for this deed, and rejoiceThat some preferment in the world can yetArise from merit. The virgins of your landThat have no dowries shall hope your exampleWill raise them to rich husbands. Should you wantSoldiers, 'twould make the very Turks and MoorsTurn Christians, and serve you for this act.Last, the neglected poets of your time,In honour of this trophy of a man,Rais'd by that curious engine, your white hand,Shall thank you, in your grave, for 't; and make thatMore reverend than all the cabinetsOf living princes. For Antonio,His fame shall likewise flow from many a pen,When heralds shall want coats to sell to men.DUCHESS. As I taste comfort in this friendly speech,So would I find concealment.BOSOLA. O, the secret of my prince,Which I will wear on th' inside of my heart!DUCHESS. You shall take charge of all my coin and jewels,And follow him; for he retires himselfTo Ancona.BOSOLA. So.DUCHESS. Whither, within few days,I mean to follow thee.BOSOLA. Let me think:I would wish your grace to feign a pilgrimageTo our Lady of Loretto, scarce seven leagues]From fair Ancona; so may you departYour country with more honour, and your flightWill seem a princely progress, retainingYour usual train about you.DUCHESS. Sir, your directionShall lead me by the hand.CARIOLA. In my opinion,She were better progress to the baths at Lucca,Or go visit the SpaIn Germany; for, if you will believe me,I do not like this jesting with religion,This feigned pilgrimage.DUCHESS. Thou art a superstitious fool:Prepare us instantly for our departure.Past sorrows, let us moderately lament them,For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them.[Exeunt DUCHESS and CARIOLA.]BOSOLA. A politician is the devil's quilted anvil;He fashions all sins on him, and the blowsAre never heard: he may work in a lady's chamber,As here for proof. What rests[90]but I revealAll to my lord? O, this base quality[91]Of intelligencer! Why, every quality i' the worldPrefers but gain or commendation:Now, for this act I am certain to be rais'd,And men that paint weeds to the life are prais'd.[Exit.]