Enter VITTORIA with a book in her hand [and] ZANCHE; FLAMINIO following them.
FLAMINIO
What, are you at your prayers? Give o’er.
VITTORIA
How, Ruffin?3
FLAMINIO
I come to you ’bout worldly business.
Sit down, sit down. [ZANCHE makes to leave.] Nay, stay, blowze,4 you may hear it.
The doors are fast enough.
VITTORIA
Ha, are you drunk?
FLAMINIO
Yes, yes, with wormwood5 water. You shall taste
Some of it presently.
VITTORIA
What intends the fury?
FLAMINIO
You are my lord’s executrix, and I claim
Reward for my long service.
For your service?
FLAMINIO
Come, therefore, here is pen and ink. Set down
10 What you will give me.
She writes.
VITTORIA
There.
FLAMINIO
Ha? Have you done already?
’Tis a most short conveyance.
VITTORIA
I will read it.
[Reads] ‘I give that portion to thee, and no other,
Which Cain groaned under, having slain his brother’.1
FLAMINIO
A most courtly patent to beg by.
VITTORIA
You are a villain.
FLAMINIO
Is’t come to this? They say affrights cure agues.
Thou hast a devil in thee; I will try
If I can scare him from thee. Nay, sit still.
My lord hath left me yet two case2 of jewels
20 Shall make me scorn your bounty. You shall see them.
[Exit.]
VITTORIA
Sure, he’s distracted.
ZANCHE
Oh, he’s desperate!
For your own safety give him gentle language.
[FLAMINIO] enters with two case of pistols.
Look, these are better far at a dead lift1
Than all your jewel-house.
VITTORIA
And yet, methinks,
These stones have no fair lustre; they are ill-set.
FLAMINIO
I’ll turn the right side towards you. You shall see
How they will sparkle.
VITTORIA
Turn this horror from me.
What do you want? What would you have me do?
Is not all mine, yours? Have I any children?
FLAMINIO
30 Pray thee, good woman, do not trouble me
With this vain, worldly business. Say your prayers.
I made a vow to my deceasèd lord
Neither yourself nor I should outlive him
The numb’ring of four hours.
VITTORIA
Did he enjoin it?
FLAMINIO
He did, and ’twas a deadly jealousy,
Lest any should enjoy thee after him,
That urged him vow me to it.2 For my death,
I did propound it voluntarily, knowing
If he could not be safe in his own court,
40 Being a great duke, what hope then for us?
VITTORIA
This is your melancholy and despair.
FLAMINIO
Away!
Fool thou art to think that politicians
Do use to kill the effects of injuries
And let the cause live. Shall we groan in irons,
Or be a shameful and a weighty burden
To a public scaffold? This is my resolve:
I would not live at any man’s entreaty,
Nor die at any’s bidding.
VITTORIA
Will you hear me?
FLAMINIO
My life hath done service to other men;
50 My death shall serve mine own turn. Make you ready.
VITTORIA
Do you mean to die indeed?
FLAMINIO
With as much pleasure
As e’er my father ’gat me.
VITTORIA [Aside to ZANCHE]
Are the doors locked?
ZANCHE [Aside]
Yes, madam.
VITTORIA
Are you grown an atheist? Will you turn your body,
Which is the goodly palace of the soul,
To the soul’s slaughter-house? O the cursed devil,
Which doth present us with all other sins
Thrice candied1 o’er; despair with gall and stibium,2
Yet we carouse it off3 – [Aside to ZANCHE] Cry out for help!
60 – Makes us forsake that which was made for man,
The world, to sink to that was made for devils,
Eternal darkness.
ZANCHE
Help! Help!
VITTORIA
I prithee, yet remember
Millions are now in graves which at last day
Like mandrakes shall rise shrieking.
FLAMINIO
Leave your prating,
For these are but grammatical2 laments,
Feminine3 arguments, and they move me
As some in pulpits move their auditory –
More with their exclamation4 than sense
Of reason or sound doctrine.
ZANCHE [Aside to VITTORIA]
70 Gentle madam,
Seem to consent. Only persuade him teach
The way to death: let him die first.
VITTORIA [Aside to ZANCHE]
’Tis good; I apprehend it.
[To FLAMINIO] To kill oneself is meat that we must take
Like pills: not chew’t but quickly swallow it.
The smart o’th’ wound or weakness of the hand
May else bring treble torments.
FLAMINIO
I have held it
A wretched and most miserable life
Which is not able to die.
VITTORIA
Oh, but frailty –
80 Yet I am now resolved. Farewell, affliction!
Behold, Bracciano, I, that while you lived
Did make a flaming altar of my heart
To sacrifice unto you, now am ready
To sacrifice heart and all. Farewell, Zanche.
ZANCHE
How, madam? Do you think that I’ll outlive you,
Especially when my best self, Flaminio,
Goes the same voyage?
FLAMINIO
O most lovèd Moor!
ZANCHE [To FLAMINIO]
Only, by all my love, let me entreat you,
Since it is most necessary none of us
90 Do violence on ourselves, let you or I
Be her sad taster1 – teach her how to die.
FLAMINIO
Thou dost instruct me nobly. Take these pistols.
[He gives VITTORIA and ZANCHE two pistols each.]
Because my hand is stained with blood already,
Two of these you shall level at my breast,
Th’other ’gainst your own, and so we’ll die,
Most equally contented. But first, swear
Not to outlive me.
VITTORIA and [ZANCHE the] MOOR
Most religiously.
FLAMINIO
Then here’s an end of me. Farewell, daylight!
And O contemptible physic,2 that dost take
100 So long a study only to preserve
So short a life, I take my leave of thee.
(Showing the pistols) These are two cupping-glasses3 that shall draw
All my infected blood out. Are you ready?
BOTH
Ready.
Whither shall I go now? O Lucian, thy ridiculous purgatory!1 To find Alexander the Great cobbling shoes, Pompey tagging points,2 and Julius Caesar making hair buttons,3 Hannibal selling blacking,4 and Augustus crying garlic, Charlemagne selling lists5 by the dozen, and King Pippin6 crying apples in
110 a cart drawn with one horse.
Whether I resolve to fire, earth, water, air,
Or all the elements by scruples,7 I know not,
Nor greatly care. Shoot, shoot!
Of all deaths the violent death is best,
For from ourselves it steals ourselves so fast,
The pain once apprehended is quite past.
They shoot and run to him and tread upon him.
VITTORIA
What, are you dropped?
FLAMINIO
I am mixed with earth already. As you are noble,
Perform your vows and bravely follow me.
VITTORIA
Whither? To hell?
ZANCHE
120 To most assured damnation.
VITTORIA
O thou most cursèd devil!
ZANCHE
Thou art caught –
In thine own engine. I tread the fire out
That would have been my ruin.
FLAMINIO
Will you be perjured? What a religious oath was Styx1 that the gods never durst swear by and violate! Oh, that we had such an oath to minister, and to be so well kept in our courts of justice.
VITTORIA
Think whither thou art going.
ZANCHE
And remember
What villainies thou hast acted.
VITTORIA
FLAMINIO
Oh, I am caught with a springe!3
VITTORIA
You see the fox comes many times short4 home;
’Tis here proved true.
FLAMINIO
Killed with a couple of braches.5
VITTORIA
No fitter off’ring for the infernal furies
Than one in whom they reigned while he was living.
FLAMINIO
Oh, the way’s dark and horrid! I cannot see.
Shall I have no company?
Oh, yes, thy sins
Do run before thee to fetch fire from hell
To light thee thither.
FLAMINIO
Oh, I smell soot,
140 Most stinking soot; the chimney is a-fire.
My liver’s parboiled like Scotch holy-bread.1
There’s a plumber laying pipes in my guts; it scalds.
Wilt thou outlive me?
ZANCHE
Yes, and drive a stake
Through thy body;2 for we’ll give it out
Thou didst this violence upon thyself.
FLAMINIO
O cunning devils! Now I have tried your love
And doubled all your reaches.3 I am not wounded!
FLAMINIO riseth.
The pistols held no bullets. ’Twas a plot
To prove your kindness to me, and I live
150 To punish your ingratitude. I knew,
One time or other, you would find a way
To give me a strong potion. O men
That lie upon your death-beds, and are haunted
With howling wives, ne’er trust them! They’ll remarry
Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet, ere the spider
Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs.
How cunning you were to discharge! Do you practise at the artillery yard?4 Trust a woman? Never, never! Bracciano be my precedent. We lay our souls to pawn to the devil for a
160 little pleasure, and a woman makes the bill of sale. That ever man should marry! For one Hypermnestra that saved her lord and husband, forty-nine of her sisters cut their husbands’ throats all in one night.1 There was a shoal of virtuous horse-leeches.2
Here are two other instruments.3
Enter LODOVICO, GASPARO [still disguised as Capuchins, with swords aloft], PEDRO [and] CARLO.
VITTORIA
Help, help!
FLAMINIO
What noise is that? Ha? False keys i’th’ court!
LODOVICO
We have brought you a masque.4
FLAMINIO
A matachin5 it seems,
By your drawn swords. Churchmen turned revellers?
CONSPIRATORS
Isabella, Isabella!
[They throw off their disguises.]
LODOVICO
Do you know us now?
FLAMINIO
170 Lodovico and Gasparo!
LODOVICO
Yes, and that Moor the Duke gave pension to
Was the great Duke of Florence.
VITTORIA
Oh, we are lost.
[GASPARO seizes VITTORIA. PEDRO takes FLAMINIO. CARLO seizes ZANCHE.]
You shall not take justice from forth my hands.
Oh, let me kill her! I’ll cut my safety
Through your coats of steel. Fate’s a spaniel:
We cannot beat it from us. What remains now?
Let all that do ill take this precedent:
Man may his fate foresee, but not prevent.
And of all axioms this shall win the prize:
180 ’Tis better to be fortunate than wise.
GASPARO
Bind him to the pillar.
[PEDRO ties up FLAMINIO.]
VITTORIA
Oh, your gentle pity!
I have seen a blackbird that would sooner fly
To a man’s bosom, than to stay1 the gripe
Of the fierce sparrow-hawk.
GASPARO
Your hope deceives you.
VITTORIA
If Florence be i’th’ court, would he would kill me.
GASPARO
Fool! Princes give rewards with their own hands,
But death or punishment by the hands of others.
LODOVICO [To FLAMINIO]
Sirrah, you once did strike me – I’ll strike you
Into the centre.2
FLAMINIO
190 Thou’lt do it like a hangman, a base hangman,
Not like a noble fellow, for thou seest
I cannot strike again.
LODOVICO
Dost laugh?
Wouldst have me die, as I was born, in whining?
GASPARO
Recommend yourself to heaven.
FLAMINIO
No, I will carry mine own commendations thither.
LODOVICO
Oh, could I kill you forty times a day
And use’t four year together, ’twere too little!
Nought grieves’s but that you are too few to feed
The famine of our vengeance. What dost think on?
FLAMINIO
200 Nothing, of nothing. Leave thy idle1 questions.
I am i’th’ way to study a long silence;
To prate were idle. I remember nothing.
There’s nothing of so infinite vexation
As man’s own thoughts.
LODOVICO [To VITTORIA]
O thou glorious strumpet,
Could I divide thy breath from this pure air
When’t leaves thy body, I would suck it up
And breathe’t upon some dunghill.
VITTORIA
You my death’s-man?
Methinks thou dost not look horrid enough;
Thou hast too good a face to be a hangman.
210 If thou be, do thy office in right form:2
Fall down upon thy knees, and ask forgiveness.
LODOVICO
Oh, thou hast been a most prodigious comet,
But I’ll cut off your train.3 [To CARLO] Kill the Moor first.
You shall not kill her first. Behold my breast!
I will be waited on in death; my servant
Shall never go before me.
GASPARO
Are you so brave?
VITTORIA
Yes, I shall welcome death
As princes do some great ambassadors:
I’ll meet thy weapon halfway.
LODOVICO
Thou dost tremble;
220 Methinks fear should dissolve thee into air.
VITTORIA
Oh, thou art deceived. I am too true a woman:
Conceit1 can never kill me. I’ll tell thee what,
I will not in my death shed one base tear,
Or if look pale, for want of blood not fear.
CARLO
Thou art my task, black fury.
ZANCHE
I have blood
As red as either of theirs. Wilt drink some?
’Tis good for the falling sickness.2 I am proud
Death cannot alter my complexion,
For I shall ne’er look pale.
LODOVICO
Strike, strike,
With a joint motion!
[They stab VITTORIA, FLAMINIO and ZANCHE.]
VITTORIA
230 ’Twas a manly blow.
The next thou giv’st, murder some sucking infant,
And then thou wilt be famous.
Oh, what blade is’t?
A Toledo or an English fox?1
I ever thought a cutler2 should distinguish
The cause of my death, rather than a doctor.
Search my wound deeper; tent3 it with the steel
That made it.
VITTORIA
Oh, my greatest sin lay in my blood.4
Now my blood pays for’t.
FLAMINIO
Th’art a noble sister.
240 I love thee now. If woman do breed man
She ought to teach him manhood. Fare thee well.
Know many glorious women, that are famed
For masculine virtue, have been vicious;
Only a happier silence did betide them:
She hath no faults who hath the art to hide them.
VITTORIA
My soul, like to a ship in a black storm,
Is driven I know not whither.
FLAMINIO
Then cast anchor.
Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear,
But seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are near.
250 We cease to grieve, cease to be Fortune’s slaves,
Nay, cease to die by dying.
[ZANCHE dies.]
Art thou gone?
[To VITTORIA] And thou so near the bottom? False report
Which says that women vie with the nine Muses
For nine tough, durable lives. I do not look
Who went before, nor who shall follow me.
No, at myself I will begin and end:
While we look up to heaven we confound
Knowledge with knowledge. Oh, I am in a mist!
VITTORIA
Oh, happy they that never saw the court,
260 Nor ever knew great man but by report. VITTORIA dies.
FLAMINIO
I recover, like a spent taper, for a flash –
And instantly go out.
Let all that belong to great men remember th’old wives’ tradition, to be like the lions i’th’ Tower on Candlemas day, to mourn if the sun shine, for fear of the pitiful remainder of winter to come.1
’Tis well; yet there’s some goodness in my death:
My life was a black charnel. I have caught
An everlasting cold; I have lost my voice2
270 Most irrecoverably. Farewell, glorious villains!
This busy trade3 of life appears most vain,
Since rest breeds rest, where all seek pain by pain.
Let no harsh, flattering bells resound my knell.
Strike, thunder, and strike loud to my farewell!
[FLAMINIO] dies.
ENGLISH AMBASSADOR [Within]
This way, this way. Break ope the doors! This way.
LODOVICO
Ha, are we betrayed?
Why then, let’s constantly4 die all together,
And having finished this most noble deed,
Defy the worst of fate, not fear to bleed.
Enter AMBASSADORS and GIOVANNI [with GUARDS].
ENGLISH AMBASSADOR
Keep back the Prince! Shoot, shoot!
[GUARDS shoot at the conspirators.]
280 Oh, I am wounded!
I fear I shall be ta’en.
GIOVANNI
You bloody villains,
By what authority have you committed
This massacre?
LODOVICO
By thine.
GIOVANNI
Mine?
LODOVICO
Yes; thy uncle,
Which is a part of thee, enjoined us to’t.
Thou know’st me, I am sure. I am Count Lodovic;
And thy most noble uncle, in disguise,
Was last night in thy court.
GIOVANNI
Ha?
CARLO
Yes, that Moor
Thy father chose his pensioner.
GIOVANNI
He turned murderer?
Away with them to prison and to torture! [GUARDS seize hold of them]
290 All that have hands in this shall taste our justice,
As I hope heaven.
LODOVICO
I do glory yet
That I can call this act mine own. For my part,
The rack, the gallows and the torturing wheel
Shall be but sound sleeps to me. Here’s my rest:
Remove the bodies.
[To the ENGLISH AMBASSADOR] See, my honoured lord,
What use you ought make of their punishment.
Let guilty men remember their black deeds
300 Do lean on crutches made of slender reeds. [Exeunt.]
Instead of an Epilogue only this of Martial supplies me:
Haec fuerint nobis praemia si placui.1
For the action of the play, ’twas generally well, and I dare affirm, with the joint testimony of some of their own quality2 – for the true imitation of life, without striving to make nature a monster – the best that ever became them; whereof, as I make a general acknowledgement, so in particular I must remember the well-approved industry of my friend, Master Perkins,3 and confess the worth of his action did
310 crown both the beginning and end.
FINIS.