The Duchess of Malfi

  ANTONIO.  Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness,  That is not kept in chains and close-pent rooms,  But in fair lightsome lodgings, and is girt  With the wild noise of prattling visitants,  Which makes it lunatic beyond all cure.  Conceive not I am so stupid but I aim24  Whereto your favours tend:  but he 's a fool  That, being a-cold, would thrust his hands i' the fire  To warm them.  DUCHESS.       So, now the ground 's broke,  You may discover what a wealthy mine  I make your lord of.  ANTONIO.              O my unworthiness!  DUCHESS.  You were ill to sell yourself:  This dark'ning of your worth is not like that  Which tradesmen use i' the city; their false lights  Are to rid bad wares off:  and I must tell you,  If you will know where breathes a complete man  (I speak it without flattery), turn your eyes,  And progress through yourself.  ANTONIO.  Were there nor heaven nor hell,  I should be honest:  I have long serv'd virtue,  And ne'er ta'en wages of her.  DUCHESS.                       Now she pays it.  The misery of us that are born great!  We are forc'd to woo, because none dare woo us;  And as a tyrant doubles with his words,  And fearfully equivocates, so we  Are forc'd to express our violent passions  In riddles and in dreams, and leave the path  Of simple virtue, which was never made  To seem the thing it is not.  Go, go brag  You have left me heartless; mine is in your bosom:  I hope 'twill multiply love there.  You do tremble:  Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh,  To fear more than to love me.  Sir, be confident:  What is 't distracts you?  This is flesh and blood, sir;  'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster  Kneels at my husband's tomb.  Awake, awake, man!  I do here put off all vain ceremony,  And only do appear to you a young widow  That claims you for her husband, and, like a widow,  I use but half a blush in 't.  ANTONIO.                       Truth speak for me;  I will remain the constant sanctuary  Of your good name.  DUCHESS.            I thank you, gentle love:  And 'cause you shall not come to me in debt,  Being now my steward, here upon your lips  I sign your Quietus est.25  This you should have begg'd now.  I have seen children oft eat sweetmeats thus,  As fearful to devour them too soon.  ANTONIO.  But for your brothers?  DUCHESS.                          Do not think of them:  All discord without this circumference  Is only to be pitied, and not fear'd:  Yet, should they know it, time will easily  Scatter the tempest.  ANTONIO.              These words should be mine,  And all the parts you have spoke, if some part of it  Would not have savour'd flattery.  DUCHESS.  Kneel.[Cariola comes from behind the arras.]  ANTONIO.          Ha!  DUCHESS.  Be not amaz'd; this woman 's of my counsel:  I have heard lawyers say, a contract in a chamber  Per verba [de] presenti26 is absolute marriage.[She and ANTONIO kneel.]  Bless, heaven, this sacred gordian27 which let violence  Never untwine!  ANTONIO.  And may our sweet affections, like the spheres,  Be still in motion!  DUCHESS.             Quickening, and make  The like soft music!  ANTONIO.  That we may imitate the loving palms,  Best emblem of a peaceful marriage,  That never bore fruit, divided!  DUCHESS.  What can the church force more?  ANTONIO.  That fortune may not know an accident,  Either of joy or sorrow, to divide  Our fixed wishes!  DUCHESS.           How can the church build faster?28  We now are man and wife, and 'tis the church  That must but echo this. – Maid, stand apart:  I now am blind.  ANTONIO.         What 's your conceit in this?  DUCHESS.  I would have you lead your fortune by the hand  Unto your marriage-bed:  (You speak in me this, for we now are one:)  We 'll only lie and talk together, and plot  To appease my humorous29 kindred; and if you please,  Like the old tale in ALEXANDER AND LODOWICK,  Lay a naked sword between us, keep us chaste.  O, let me shrowd my blushes in your bosom,  Since 'tis the treasury of all my secrets!

[Exeunt DUCHESS and ANTONIO.]

  CARIOLA.  Whether the spirit of greatness or of woman  Reign most in her, I know not; but it shows  A fearful madness.  I owe her much of pity.

[Exit.]

Act II

Scene I30

[Enter] BOSOLA and CASTRUCCIO

  BOSOLA.  You say you would fain be taken for an eminent courtier?  CASTRUCCIO.  'Tis the very main31 of my ambition.BOSOLA. Let me see: you have a reasonable good face for 't already,and your night-cap expresses your ears sufficient largely. I wouldhave 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 threeor four times, or blow your nose till it smart again, to recover yourmemory. When you come to be a president in criminal causes, if yousmile upon a prisoner, hang him; but if you frown upon him andthreaten him, let him be sure to scape the gallows.  CASTRUCCIO.  I would be a very merry president.  BOSOLA.  Do not sup o' nights; 'twill beget you an admirable wit.CASTRUCCIO. Rather it would make me have a good stomach to quarrel;for they say, your roaring boys eat meat seldom, and that makes themso valiant. But how shall I know whether the people take me foran 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 takenfor one of the prime night-caps.32 [Enter an Old Lady]You come from painting now.  OLD LADY.  From what?BOSOLA. Why, from your scurvy face-physic. To behold thee notpainted inclines somewhat near a miracle. These in thy face herewere deep ruts and foul sloughs the last progress.33 There wasa lady in France that, having had the small-pox, flayed the skin offher face to make it more level; and whereas before she lookedlike a nutmeg-grater, after she resembled an abortive hedge-hog.  OLD LADY.  Do you call this painting?BOSOLA. No, no, but you call [it] careening34 of an oldmorphewed35 lady, to make her disembogue36 again:there 's rough-cast phrase to your plastic.37  OLD LADY.  It seems you are well acquainted with my closet.BOSOLA. One would suspect it for a shop of witchcraft, to find in itthe fat of serpents, spawn of snakes, Jews' spittle, and their youngchildren's ordure; and all these for the face. I would sooner eata dead pigeon taken from the soles of the feet of one sick of theplague, than kiss one of you fasting. Here are two of you, whose sinof your youth is the very patrimony of the physician; makes him renewhis foot-cloth with the spring, and change his high-pric'd courtezanwith 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  To be belov'd?  We account it ominous,  If nature do produce a colt, or lamb,  A fawn, or goat, in any limb resembling  A man, and fly from 't as a prodigy:  Man stands amaz'd to see his deformity  In any other creature but himself.  But in our own flesh though we bear diseases  Which have their true names only ta'en from beasts, —  As the most ulcerous wolf and swinish measle, —  Though we are eaten up of lice and worms,  And though continually we bear about us  A rotten and dead body, we delight  To hide it in rich tissue:  all our fear,  Nay, all our terror, is, lest our physician  Should put us in the ground to be made sweet. —Your wife 's gone to Rome: you two couple, and get you tothe wells at Lucca to recover your aches. I have other work on foot.

[Exeunt CASTRUCCIO and Old Lady]

  I observe our duchess  Is sick a-days, she pukes, her stomach seethes,  The fins of her eye-lids look most teeming blue,38She wanes i' the cheek, and waxes fat i' the flank,  And, contrary to our Italian fashion,  Wears a loose-bodied gown:  there 's somewhat in 't.  I have a trick may chance discover it,  A pretty one; I have bought some apricocks,  The first our spring yields.

[Enter ANTONIO and DELIO, talking together apart]

  DELIO.                        And so long since married?  You amaze me.  ANTONIO.       Let me seal your lips for ever:  For, did I think that anything but th' air  Could carry these words from you, I should wish  You had no breath at all. – Now, sir, in your contemplation?  You are studying to become a great wise fellow.BOSOLA. O, sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul tetter39 that runs all over a man's body: if simplicity direct us to haveno evil, it directs us to a happy being; for the subtlest follyproceeds 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  Puff'd up with your preferment, you continue  This out-of-fashion melancholy:  leave it, leave it.BOSOLA. Give me leave to be honest in any phrase, in any complimentwhatsoever. Shall I confess myself to you? I look no higher thanI 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 andbusiness; for, mark me, when a man's mind rides faster than his horsecan gallop, they quickly both tire.  ANTONIO.  You would look up to heaven, but I think  The devil, that rules i' th' air, stands in your light.BOSOLA. O, sir, you are lord of the ascendant,40 chief man withthe duchess: a duke was your cousin-german remov'd. Say you werelineally descended from King Pepin, or he himself, what of this?Search the heads of the greatest rivers in the world, you shall findthem but bubbles of water. Some would think the souls of princeswere brought forth by some more weighty cause than those of meanerpersons: they are deceiv'd, there 's the same hand to them; the likepassions sway them; the same reason that makes a vicar go to law fora tithe-pig, and undo his neighbours, makes them spoil a wholeprovince, and batter down goodly cities with the cannon.

[Enter DUCHESS and Ladies]

  DUCHESS.  Your arm, Antonio:  do I not grow fat?  I am exceeding short-winded. – Bosola,  I would have you, sir, provide for me a litter;  Such a one as the Duchess of Florence rode in.  BOSOLA.  The duchess us'd one when she was great with child.  DUCHESS.  I think she did. – Come hither, mend my ruff:  Here, when? thou art such a tedious lady; and  Thy breath smells of lemon-pills:  would thou hadst done!  Shall I swoon under thy fingers?  I am  So troubled with the mother!41  BOSOLA.  [Aside.]             I fear too much.  DUCHESS.  I have heard you say that the French courtiers  Wear their hats on 'fore that king.  ANTONIO.  I have seen it.  DUCHESS.                   In the presence?  ANTONIO.                                     Yes.  DUCHESS.  Why should not we bring up that fashion?  'Tis ceremony more than duty that consists  In the removing of a piece of felt.  Be you the example to the rest o' th' court;  Put on your hat first.  ANTONIO.                You must pardon me:  I have seen, in colder countries than in France,  Nobles stand bare to th' prince; and the distinction  Methought show'd reverently.  BOSOLA.  I have a present for your grace.  DUCHESS.                                   For me, sir?  BOSOLA.  Apricocks, madam.  DUCHESS.                    O, sir, where are they?  I have heard of none to-year42  BOSOLA.  [Aside.]              Good; her colour rises.  DUCHESS.  Indeed, I thank you:  they are wondrous fair ones.  What an unskilful fellow is our gardener!  We shall have none this month.  BOSOLA.  Will not your grace pare them?  DUCHESS.  No:  they taste of musk, methinks; indeed they do.  BOSOLA.  I know not:  yet I wish your grace had par'd 'em.  DUCHESS.  Why?  BOSOLA.         I forgot to tell you, the knave gardener,  Only to raise his profit by them the sooner,  Did ripen them in horse-dung.  DUCHESS.                       O, you jest. —  You shall judge:  pray, taste one.  ANTONIO.                            Indeed, madam,  I do not love the fruit.  DUCHESS.                  Sir, you are loth  To rob us of our dainties.  'Tis a delicate fruit;  They say they are restorative.  BOSOLA.                        'Tis a pretty art,  This grafting.  DUCHESS.  'Tis so; a bettering of nature.  BOSOLA.  To make a pippin grow upon a crab,  A damson on a black-thorn. – [Aside.] How greedily she eats them!  A whirlwind strike off these bawd farthingales!  For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown,  I should have discover'd apparently43The young springal44 cutting a caper in her belly.  DUCHESS.  I thank you, Bosola:  they were right good ones,  If they do not make me sick.  ANTONIO.                      How now, madam!  DUCHESS.  This green fruit and my stomach are not friends:  How they swell me!  BOSOLA.  [Aside.]    Nay, you are too much swell'd already.  DUCHESS.  O, I am in an extreme cold sweat!  BOSOLA.                                      I am very sorry.

[Exit.]

  DUCHESS.  Lights to my chamber! – O good Antonio,  I fear I am undone!  DELIO.               Lights there, lights!

Exeunt DUCHESS [and Ladies.]

  ANTONIO.  O my most trusty Delio, we are lost!  I fear she 's fall'n in labour; and there 's left  No time for her remove.  DELIO.                   Have you prepar'd  Those ladies to attend her; and procur'd  That politic safe conveyance for the midwife  Your duchess plotted?  ANTONIO.               I have.  DELIO.  Make use, then, of this forc'd occasion.  Give out that Bosola hath poison'd her  With these apricocks; that will give some colour  For her keeping close.  ANTONIO.                Fie, fie, the physicians  Will then flock to her.  DELIO.  For that you may pretend  She'll use some prepar'd antidote of her own,  Lest the physicians should re-poison her.  ANTONIO.  I am lost in amazement:  I know not what to think on 't.

Exeunt.

Scene II45

[Enter] BOSOLA and Old Lady

BOSOLA. So, so, there 's no question but her techiness46 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 more  of the glass-house.  You are still47 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 call  All 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 evening  Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats,  Are missing in the duchess' cabinet.  Are the gates shut?  SERVANT.             Yes.  ANTONIO.                   'Tis the duchess' pleasure  Each officer be lock'd into his chamber  Till the sun-rising; and to send the keys  Of all their chests and of their outward doors  Into her bed-chamber.  She is very sick.  RODERIGO.  At her pleasure.  ANTONIO.  She entreats you take 't not ill:  the innocent  Shall 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'd  Unto 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 me  Somewhat 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 power  To 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 presently49  Go set a figure for 's nativity.50       Exeunt.

Scene III51

[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 stratagem  In the confining all our courtiers  To 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 body  To such a forc'd expression of fear;  I am Bosola, your friend.  ANTONIO.                   Bosola! —  [Aside.] This mole does undermine me. – Heard you not  A 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 'twas  But 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 figure52For 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 devil  Had 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 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 libel54 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,55Are 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 intelligency58Our 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 thrifty59 way!  Though lust do mask in ne'er so strange disguise,  She 's oft found witty, but is never wise.

[Exit.]

Scene IV60

[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 anchorite61  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'd62Those 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.]