The Duchess of Malfi
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 fig
For the imputation!
ANTONIO. Traitors are ever confident
Till they are discover'd. There were jewels stol'n too:
In my conceit, none are to be suspected
More 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 count
This 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 order
I' the morn you shall be safe.--[Aside.] 'Tis that must colour
Her lying-in.--Sir, this door you pass not:
I do not hold it fit that you come near
The 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 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.
Caetera non scrutantur.'[57]
Why, now 'tis most apparent; this precise fellow
Is 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 follow
That I must be committed on pretence
Of poisoning her; which I 'll endure, and laugh at.
If one could find the father now! but that
Time will discover. Old Castruccio
I' th' morning posts to Rome: by him I 'll send
A letter that shall make her brothers' galls
O'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 JULIA
CARDINAL. Sit: thou art my best of wishes. Prithee, tell me
What trick didst thou invent to come to Rome
Without thy husband?
JULIA. Why, my lord, I told him
I 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 me
Beyond my strongest thoughts; I would not now
Find you inconstant.
CARDINAL. Do not put thyself
To such a voluntary torture, which proceeds
Out of your own guilt.
JULIA. How, my lord!
CARDINAL. You fear
My 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 glass
Invented by Galileo the Florentine
To 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 tears
Will fall into your husband's bosom, lady,
With a loud protestation that you love him
Above the world. Come, I 'll love you wisely,
That 's jealously; since I am very certain
You cannot make me cuckold.
JULIA. I 'll go home
To 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'd
Like 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 one
That 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 says
Your 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 experience
Will satisfy you no: our Roman prelates
Do 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 laughter
Is my pity.
DELIO. Lady, I know not whether
You 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 doctors
Persuade 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 Calabria
That, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits.
[Exit.]
JULIA. Sir, you hear:
Pray, let me know your business and your suit
As briefly as can be.
DELIO. With good speed: I would wish you,
At such time as you are non-resident
With 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'd
With a letter sent from Malfi. I do fear
Antonio is betray'd. How fearfully
Shows 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 letter
FERDINAND. 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 lust
Than towns of garrison for service.
CARDINAL. Is 't possible?
Can this be certain?
FERDINAND. Rhubarb, O, for rhubarb
To purge this choler! Here 's the cursed day
To prompt my memory; and here 't shall stick
Till of her bleeding heart I make a sponge
To wipe it out.
CARDINAL. Why do you make yourself
So 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 waste
As 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 mean
To 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 hearts
So far upon the left side![69]
FERDINAND. Foolish men,
That e'er will trust their honour in a bark
Made 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 me
To 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 squire
That 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 noise
Fitly resembles deaf men's shrill discourse,
Who talk aloud, thinking all other men
To have their imperfection.
FERDINAND. Have not you
My palsy?
CARDINAL. Yes, [but] I can be angry
Without this rupture. There is not in nature
A thing that makes man so deform'd, so beastly,
As doth intemperate anger. Chide yourself.
You have divers men who never yet express'd
Their strong desire of rest but by unrest,
By vexing of themselves. Come, put yourself
In tune.
FERDINAND. So I will only study to seem
The thing I am not. I could kill her now,
In you, or in myself; for I do think
It is some sin in us heaven doth revenge
By her.
CARDINAL. Are you stark mad?
FERDINAND. I would have their bodies