The Duchess of Malfi
BOSOLA. I will; and if you love me,
Fail not to effect it.
The cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy;
Demand the cause, let him not put you off
With feign'd excuse; discover the main ground on 't.
JULIA. Why would you know this?
BOSOLA. I have depended on him,
And I hear that he is fall'n in some disgrace
With the emperor: if he be, like the mice
That forsake falling houses, I would shift
To other dependance.
JULIA. You shall not need
Follow the wars: I 'll be your maintenance.
BOSOLA. And I your loyal servant: but I cannot
Leave my calling.
JULIA. Not leave an ungrateful
General for the love of a sweet lady!
You are like some cannot sleep in feather-beds,
But must have blocks for their pillows.
BOSOLA. Will you do this?
JULIA. Cunningly.
BOSOLA. To-morrow I 'll expect th' intelligence.
JULIA. To-morrow! get you into my cabinet;
You shall have it with you. Do not delay me,
No more than I do you: I am like one
That is condemn'd; I have my pardon promis'd,
But I would see it seal'd. Go, get you in:
You shall see my wind my tongue about his heart
Like a skein of silk.
[Exit BOSOLA.]
[Re-enter CARDINAL]
CARDINAL. Where are you?
[Enter Servants.]
SERVANTS. Here.
CARDINAL. Let none, upon your lives, have conference
With the Prince Ferdinand, unless I know it.--
[Aside] In this distraction he may reveal
The murder.
[Exeunt Servants.]
Yond 's my lingering consumption:
I am weary of her, and by any means
Would be quit of.
JULIA. How now, my lord! what ails you?
CARDINAL. Nothing.
JULIA. O, you are much alter'd:
Come, I must be your secretary, and remove
This lead from off your bosom: what 's the matter?
CARDINAL. I may not tell you.
JULIA. Are you so far in love with sorrow
You cannot part with part of it? Or think you
I cannot love your grace when you are sad
As well as merry? Or do you suspect
I, that have been a secret to your heart
These many winters, cannot be the same
Unto your tongue?
CARDINAL. Satisfy thy longing,--
The only way to make thee keep my counsel
Is, not to tell thee.
JULIA. Tell your echo this,
Or flatterers, that like echoes still report
What they hear though most imperfect, and not me;
For if that you be true unto yourself,
I 'll know.
CARDINAL. Will you rack me?
JULIA. No, judgment shall
Draw it from you: it is an equal fault,
To tell one's secrets unto all or none.
CARDINAL. The first argues folly.
JULIA. But the last tyranny.
CARDINAL. Very well: why, imagine I have committed
Some secret deed which I desire the world
May never hear of.
JULIA. Therefore may not I know it?
You have conceal'd for me as great a sin
As adultery. Sir, never was occasion
For perfect trial of my constancy
Till now: sir, I beseech you----
CARDINAL. You 'll repent it.
JULIA. Never.
CARDINAL. It hurries thee to ruin: I 'll not tell thee.
Be well advis'd, and think what danger 'tis
To receive a prince's secrets. They that do,
Had need have their breasts hoop'd with adamant
To contain them. I pray thee, yet be satisfi'd;
Examine thine own frailty; 'tis more easy
To tie knots than unloose them. 'Tis a secret
That, like a ling'ring poison, may chance lie
Spread in thy veins, and kill thee seven year hence.
JULIA. Now you dally with me.
CARDINAL. No more; thou shalt know it.
By my appointment the great Duchess of Malfi
And two of her young children, four nights since,
Were strangl'd.
JULIA. O heaven! sir, what have you done!
CARDINAL. How now? How settles this? Think you your bosom
Will be a grave dark and obscure enough
For such a secret?
JULIA. You have undone yourself, sir.
CARDINAL. Why?
JULIA. It lies not in me to conceal it.
CARDINAL. No?
Come, I will swear you to 't upon this book.
JULIA. Most religiously.
CARDINAL. Kiss it.
[She kisses the book.]
Now you shall never utter it; thy curiosity
Hath undone thee; thou 'rt poison'd with that book.
Because I knew thou couldst not keep my counsel,
I have bound thee to 't by death.
[Re-enter BOSOLA]
BOSOLA. For pity-sake, hold!
CARDINAL. Ha, Bosola!
JULIA. I forgive you
This equal piece of justice you have done;
For I betray'd your counsel to that fellow.
He over-heard it; that was the cause I said
It lay not in me to conceal it.
BOSOLA. O foolish woman,
Couldst not thou have poison'd him?
JULIA. 'Tis weakness,
Too much to think what should have been done. I go,
I know not whither.
[Dies.]
CARDINAL. Wherefore com'st thou hither?
BOSOLA. That I might find a great man like yourself,
Not out of his wits, as the Lord Ferdinand,
To remember my service.
CARDINAL. I 'll have thee hew'd in pieces.
BOSOLA. Make not yourself such a promise of that life
Which is not yours to dispose of.
CARDINAL. Who plac'd thee here?
BOSOLA. Her lust, as she intended.
CARDINAL. Very well:
Now you know me for your fellow-murderer.
BOSOLA. And wherefore should you lay fair marble colours
Upon your rotten purposes to me?
Unless you imitate some that do plot great treasons,
And when they have done, go hide themselves i' th' grave
Of those were actors in 't?
CARDINAL. No more; there is
A fortune attends thee.
BOSOLA. Shall I go sue to Fortune any longer?
'Tis the fool's pilgrimage.
CARDINAL. I have honours in store for thee.
BOSOLA. There are a many ways that conduct to seeming
Honour, and some of them very dirty ones.
CARDINAL. Throw to the devil
Thy melancholy. The fire burns well;
What need we keep a stirring of 't, and make
A greater smother?[132] Thou wilt kill Antonio?
BOSOLA. Yes.
CARDINAL. Take up that body.
BOSOLA. I think I shall
Shortly grow the common bier for church-yards.
CARDINAL. I will allow thee some dozen of attendants
To aid thee in the murder.
BOSOLA. O, 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, less it make me have a greater when I ride
to the gallows.
CARDINAL. Come to me after midnight, to help to remove
That body to her own lodging. I 'll give out
She died o' th' plague; 'twill breed the less inquiry
After her death.
BOSOLA. Where 's Castruccio her husband?
CARDINAL. He 's rode to Naples, to take possession
Of Antonio's citadel.
BOSOLA. Believe me, you have done a very happy turn.
CARDINAL. Fail not to come. There is the master-key
Of our lodgings; and by that you may conceive
What trust I plant in you.
BOSOLA. You shall find me ready.
Exit CARDINAL.
O poor Antonio, though nothing be so needful
To thy estate as pity, yet I find
Nothing so dangerous! I must look to my footing:
In such slippery ice-pavements men had need
To be frost-nail'd well, they may break their necks else;
The precedent 's here afore me. How this man
Bears up in blood! seems fearless! Why, 'tis well;
Security some men call the suburbs of hell,
Only a dead wall between. Well, good Antonio,
I 'll seek thee out; and all my care shall be
To put thee into safety from the reach
Of these most cruel biters that have got
Some of thy blood already. It may be,
I 'll join with thee in a most just revenge.
The weakest arm is strong enough that strikes
With the sword of justice. Still methinks the duchess
Haunts me: there, there!--'Tis nothing but my melancholy.
O Penitence, let me truly taste thy cup,
That throws men down only to raise them up!
Exit.
Scene III[133]
[Enter] ANTONIO and DELIO. Echo (from the DUCHESS'S Grave)
DELIO. Yond 's the cardinal's window. This fortification
Grew from the ruins of an ancient abbey;
And to yond side o' th' river lies a wall,
Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion
Gives the best echo that you ever heard,
So hollow and so dismal, and withal
So plain in the distinction of our words,
That many have suppos'd it is a spirit
That answers.
ANTONIO. I do love these ancient ruins.
We never tread upon them but we set
Our foot upon some reverend history;
And, questionless, here in this open court,
Which now lies naked to the injuries
Of stormy weather, some men lie interr'd
Lov'd the church so well, and gave so largely to 't,
They thought it should have canopied their bones
Till dooms-day. But all things have their end;
Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men,
Must have like death that we have.
ECHO. Like death that we have.
DELIO. Now the echo hath caught you.
ANTONIO. It groan'd methought, and gave
A very deadly accent.
ECHO. Deadly accent.
DELIO. I told you 'twas a pretty one. You may make it
A huntsman, or a falconer, a musician,
Or a thing of sorrow.
ECHO. A thing of sorrow.
ANTONIO. Ay, sure, that suits it best.
ECHO. That suits it best.
ANTONIO. 'Tis very like my wife's voice.
ECHO. Ay, wife's voice.
DELIO. Come, let us walk further from t.
I would not have you go to the cardinal's to-night:
Do not.
ECHO. Do not.
DELIO. Wisdom doth not more moderate wasting sorrow
Than time. Take time for 't; be mindful of thy safety.
ECHO. Be mindful of thy safety.
ANTONIO. Necessity compels me.
Make scrutiny through the passages
Of your own life, you 'll find it impossible
To fly your fate.
ECHO. O, fly your fate!
DELIO. Hark! the dead stones seem to have pity on you,
And give you good counsel.
ANTONIO. Echo, I will not talk with thee,
For thou art a dead thing.
ECHO. Thou art a dead thing.
ANTONIO. My duchess is asleep now,
And her little ones, I hope sweetly. O heaven,
Shall I never see her more?
ECHO. Never see her more.
ANTONIO. I mark'd not one repetition of the echo
But that; and on the sudden a clear light
Presented me a face folded in sorrow.
DELIO. Your fancy merely.
ANTONIO. Come, I 'll be out of this ague,
For to live thus is not indeed to live;
It is a mockery and abuse of life.
I will not henceforth save myself by halves;
Lose all, or nothing.
DELIO. Your own virtue save you!
I 'll fetch your eldest son, and second you.
It may be that the sight of his own blood
Spread in so sweet a figure may beget
The more compassion. However, fare you well.
Though in our miseries Fortune have a part,
Yet in our noble sufferings she hath none.
Contempt of pain, that we may call our own.
Exeunt.
Scene IV[134]