DELIO
You are welcome to your country, dear Antonio.
You have been long in France, and you return
A very formal Frenchman in your habit.1
How do you like the French court?
ANTONIO
I admire it;
In seeking to reduce both state and people
To a fixed order, their judicious king
Begins at home: quits first his royal palace
Of flatt’ring sycophants, of dissolute
And infamous persons – which2 he sweetly terms
10 His Master’s masterpiece, the work of heaven –
Consid’ring duly that a prince’s court
Is like a common fountain, whence should flow
Pure silver drops in general; but if’t chance
Some cursed example poison’t near the head,
Death and diseases through the whole land spread.
And what is’t makes this blessèd government
But a most provident council, who dare freely
Inform him the corruption of the times?
Though some o’th’ court hold it presumption
20 To instruct princes what they ought to do,
It is a noble duty to inform them
What they ought to foresee.
[Enter BOSOLA.]
The only court-gall;1 yet I observe his railing2
Is not for simple love of piety;
Indeed, he rails at those things which he wants;
Would be as lecherous, covetous or proud,
Bloody or envious, as any man,
If he had means to be so.
[Enter CARDINAL.]
Here’s the Cardinal.
[ANTONIO and DELIO stand aside.]
BOSOLA
I do haunt you still.
CARDINAL
So.
BOSOLA
I have done you
30 Better service than to be slighted thus.
Miserable age, where only the3 reward
Of doing well is the doing of it!
CARDINAL
You enforce your merit too much.
BOSOLA
I fell into the galleys in your service, where, for two years together, I wore two towels instead of a shirt, with a knot on the shoulder, after the fashion of a Roman mantle. Slighted thus? I will thrive some way: blackbirds fatten best in hard weather; why not in these dog-days?4
CARDINAL
Would you could become honest.
BOSOLA
40 With all your divinity, do but direct me the way to it. I have known many travel far for it, and yet return as arrant knaves as they went forth, because they carried themselves always along with them. [Exit CARDINAL.]
Are you gone? [To ANTONIO and DELIO] Some fellows, they say, are possessed with the devil, but this great fellow were able to possess the greatest devil and make him worse.
ANTONIO
He hath denied thee some suit?
BOSOLA
He and his brother are like plum trees that grow crooked over standing1 pools: they are rich, and o’erladen with fruit,
50 but none but crows, pies2 and caterpillars feed on them. Could I be one of their flattering panders, I would hang on their ears like a horse-leech till I were full, and then drop off. I pray, leave me. Who would rely upon these miserable dependences in expectation to be advanced tomorrow? What creature ever fed worse than hoping Tantalus?3 Nor ever died any man more fearfully than he that hoped for a pardon. There are rewards for hawks and dogs when they have done us service, but for a soldier that hazards his limbs in a battle – nothing but a kind of geometry is his last supportation.
DELIO
60 Geometry?
BOSOLA
Ay, to hang in a fair pair of slings, take his latter swing in the world upon an honourable pair of crutches, from hospital to hospital. Fare ye well, sir; and yet do not you scorn us, for places in the court are but like beds in the hospital, where this man’s head lies at that man’s foot, and so lower and lower. [Exit BOSOLA.]
DELIO
I knew this fellow seven years in the galleys
For a notorious murder, and ’twas thought
The Cardinal suborned it. He was released
When he recovered Naples.
ANTONIO
’Tis great pity
He should be thus neglected; I have heard
He’s very valiant. This foul melancholy
Will poison all his goodness, for, I’ll tell you,
If too immoderate sleep be truly said
To be an inward rust unto the soul,
It then doth follow want of action
Breeds all black malcontents, and their close rearing,
Like moths in cloth, do hurt for want of wearing.
[Enter] CASTRUCCIO, SILVIO, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN.
DELIO
The presence2 ’gins to fill. You promised me
To make me the partaker of the natures
Of some of your great courtiers.
ANTONIO
The Lord Cardinal’s,
And other strangers that are now in court?
I shall.
[Enter FERDINAND.]
Here comes the great Calabrian Duke.
[ANTONIO and DELIO stand aside.]
FERDINAND
Who took the ring3 oft’nest?
Antonio Bologna, my lord.
FERDINAND
Our sister Duchess’s great master of her household? Give him the jewel.1 When shall we leave this sportive action and
10 fall to action indeed?
CASTRUCCIO
Methinks, my lord, you should not desire to go to war in person.
FERDINAND [Aside]
Now for some gravity – why, my lord?
CASTRUCCIO
It is fitting a soldier arise to be a prince, but not necessary a prince descend to be a captain.
FERDINAND
No?
CASTRUCCIO
No, my lord, he were far better do it by a deputy.
FERDINAND
Why should he not as well sleep or eat by a deputy? This might take idle, offensive and base office from him, whereas the other deprives him of honour.
CASTRUCCIO
20 Believe my experience: that realm is never long in quiet where the ruler is a soldier.
FERDINAND
Thou told’st me thy wife could not endure fighting.
CASTRUCCIO
True, my lord.
FERDINAND
And of a jest she broke, of a captain she met, full of wounds – I have forgot it.
CASTRUCCIO
She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful fellow to lie, like the children of Ismael, all in tents.2
Why, there’s a wit were able to undo all the chirurgeons1 o’the city; for although gallants should quarrel, and had drawn
30 their weapons and were ready to go to it, yet her persuasions would make them put up.2
CASTRUCCIO
That she would, my lord,
RODERIGO
He is all fire.
FERDINAND
SILVIO
RODERIGO [and] GRISOLAN
Ha, ha, ha!
FERDINAND
Why do you laugh? Methinks you that are courtiers should
40 be my touchwood – take fire when I give fire; that is, laugh when I laugh, were the subject never so witty.
CASTRUCCIO
True, my lord. I myself have heard a very good jest, and have scorned to seem to have so silly a wit as to understand it.
FERDINAND
But I can laugh at your fool, my lord.
CASTRUCCIO
He cannot speak, you know, but he makes faces. My lady cannot abide him.
FERDINAND
No?
Nor endure to be in merry company, for she says too much laughing and too much company fills her too full of the
50 wrinkle.
FERDINAND
I would then have a mathematical instrument made for her face, that she might not laugh out of compass.1 I shall shortly visit you at Milan, Lord Silvio.
SILVIO
Your grace shall arrive most welcome.
FERDINAND
You are a good horseman, Antonio. You have excellent riders in France. What do you think of good horsemanship?
ANTONIO [coming forward]
Nobly, my lord. As out of the Grecian horse2 issued many famous princes, so out of brave horsemanship arise the first sparks of growing resolution that raise the mind to noble
60 action.
FERDINAND
You have bespoke it worthily.
[Enter CARDINAL, DUCHESS, CARIOLA, JULIA and ATTENDANTS.]
SILVIO
Your brother, the Lord Cardinal, and sister Duchess.
CARDINAL
Are the galleys come about?
GRISOLAN
They are, my lord.
FERDINAND
Here’s the Lord Silvio is come to take his leave.
[All except ANTONIO and DELIO stand apart.]
DELIO [To ANTONIO]
Now, sir, your promise: what’s that Cardinal –
I mean his temper? They say he’s a brave fellow,
Will play his five thousand crowns at tennis, dance,
Court ladies, and one that hath fought single combats.
ANTONIO
70 Some such flashes superficially hang on him, for form;1 but observe his inward character: he is a melancholy churchman. The spring in his face is nothing but the engendering of toads.2 Where he is jealous of any man he lays worse plots for them than ever was imposed on Hercules, for he strews in his way flatterers, panders, intelligencers,3 atheists, and a thousand such political monsters. He should have been Pope, but instead of coming to it by the primitive decency of the Church, he did bestow bribes so largely, and so impudently, as if he would have carried it away without heaven’s knowledge.
80 Some good he hath done –
DELIO
You have given too much of him. What’s his brother?
ANTONIO
The Duke there? A most perverse and turbulent nature;
What appears in him mirth is merely outside.
If he laugh heartily, it is to laugh
All honesty out of fashion.
DELIO
Twins?
ANTONIO
In quality.
He speaks with others’ tongues, and hears men’s suits
With others’ ears; will seem to sleep o’th’ bench
Only to entrap offenders in their answers;
Dooms men to death by information,4
Rewards by hearsay.
DELIO
90 Then the law to him
Is like a foul, black cobweb to a spider:
He makes it his dwelling, and a prison
To entangle those shall feed him.
ANTONIO
Most true.
He never pays debts, unless they be shrewd turns,1
And those he will confess that he doth owe.
Last, for his brother there, the Cardinal:
They that do flatter him most say oracles
Hang at his lips; and verily I believe them,
For the devil speaks in them.
100 But for their sister, the right noble Duchess,
You never fixed your eye on three fair medals,
Cast in one figure, of so different temper.
For her discourse, it is so full of rapture
You only will begin then to be sorry
When she doth end her speech; and wish, in wonder,
She held it less vainglory to talk much,
Than your penance to hear her.2 Whilst she speaks,
She throws upon a man so sweet a look
That it were able raise one to a galliard3
110 That lay in a dead palsy, and to dote
On that sweet countenance; but in that look
There speaketh so divine a continence
As cuts off all lascivious and vain hope.
Her days are practised in such noble virtue
That sure her nights – nay more, her very sleeps –
Are more in heaven than other ladies’ shrifts.4
Let all sweet ladies break their flatt’ring glasses,
And dress themselves in her.5
DELIO
Fie, Antonio,
You play the wire-drawer6 with her commendations.
120 I’ll case the picture up.1 Only thus much –
All her particular worth grows to this sum:
She stains2 the time past, lights the time to come.
CARIOLA
You must attend my lady in the gallery,
Some half an hour hence.
ANTONIO
I shall.
[Exeunt ANTONIO AND DELIO.]
FERDINAND
Sister, I have a suit to you.
DUCHESS
To me, sir?
FERDINAND
A gentleman here, Daniel de Bosola,
One that was in the galleys –
DUCHESS
Yes, I know him.
FERDINAND
A worthy fellow h’is. Pray, let me entreat for
The provisorship of your horse.3
DUCHESS
Your knowledge of him
Commends him and prefers him.
FERDINAND
130 Call him hither.
[Exit ATTENDANT.]
We are now upon parting. Good Lord Silvio,
Do us commend to all our noble friends
Sir, I shall.
You are for Milan?
SILVIO
I am.
DUCHESS
Bring the caroches.1 We’ll bring you down to the haven.
[Exeunt all but CARDINAL and FERDINAND.]
CARDINAL
Be sure you entertain that Bosola
For your intelligence.2 I would not be seen in’t;
And therefore many times I have slighted him
When he did court our furtherance,3 as this morning.
FERDINAND
140 Antonio, the great master of her household,
Had been far fitter.
CARDINAL
You are deceived in him;
His nature is too honest for such business.
[Enter BOSOLA.]
He comes. I’ll leave you. [Exit CARDINAL.]
BOSOLA
I was lured to you.
FERDINAND
My brother here, the Cardinal, could never
Abide you.
BOSOLA
Never since he was in my debt.
FERDINAND
Maybe some oblique character in your face
Made him suspect you?
Doth he study physiognomy?
There’s no more credit to be given to th’face
Than to a sick man’s urine, which some call
150 The physician’s whore because she cozens1 him.
He did suspect me wrongfully.
FERDINAND
For that
You must give great men leave to take their times.
Distrust doth cause us seldom be deceived;
You see the oft shaking of the cedar tree
Fastens it more at root.
BOSOLA
Yet take heed,
For to suspect a friend unworthily
Instructs him the next2 way to suspect you,
And prompts him to deceive you.
There’s gold.
[He gives BOSOLA money.]
BOSOLA
So:
What follows? Never rained such showers as these
160 Without thunderbolts i’th’ tail of them.3
Whose throat must I cut?
FERDINAND
Your inclination to shed blood rides post4
Before my occasion to use you. I give you that
To live i’th’ court here, and observe the Duchess,
To note all the particulars of her ’haviour:
What suitors do solicit her for marriage,
And whom she best affects. She’s a young widow;
I would not have her marry again.
No, sir?
FERDINAND
Do not you ask the reason, but be satisfied
I say I would not.
BOSOLA
170 It seems you would create me
One of your familiars.1
FERDINAND
Familiar? What’s that?
BOSOLA
Why, a very quaint,2 invisible devil in flesh:
An intelligencer.
FERDINAND
Such a kind of thriving thing
I would wish thee, and ere long thou may’st arrive
At a higher place by’t.
BOSOLA [scorning the money]
Take your devils,
Which hell calls angels.3 These cursed gifts would make
You a corrupter, me an impudent traitor;
And should I take these they’d take me to hell.
FERDINAND
Sir, I’ll take nothing from you that I have given.
180 There is a place that I procured for you
This morning: the provisorship o’th’ horse.
Have you heard on’t?
BOSOLA
No.
FERDINAND
’Tis yours. Is’t not worth thanks?
I would have you curse yourself now, that your bounty,
Which makes men truly noble, e’er should make
Me a villain. Oh, that to avoid ingratitude
For the good deed you have done me, I must do
All the ill man can invent! Thus the devil
Candies all sins o’er, and what heaven terms vile,
That names he complemental.1
FERDINAND
Be yourself:
190 Keep your old garb of melancholy. ’Twill express
You envy those that stand above your reach,
Yet strive not to come near ’em. This will gain
Access to private lodgings, where yourself
BOSOLA
As I have seen some
Feed in a lord’s dish,4 half asleep, not seeming
To listen to any talk, and yet these rogues
Have cut his throat in a dream. What’s my place?
The provisorship o’th’ horse? Say, then, my corruption
Grew out of horse-dung. I am your creature.
FERDINAND
200 Away!
BOSOLA
Let good men for good deeds covet good fame,
Since place and riches oft are bribes of shame.
Sometimes the devil doth preach. Exit BOSOLA.
[Enter CARDINAL and DUCHESS.]
CARDINAL [To DUCHESS]
We are to part from you, and your own discretion
Must now be your director.
You are a widow:
You know already what man is; and, therefore,
Let not youth, high promotion, eloquence –
CARDINAL
No, nor anything without the addition, honour,
Sway your high blood.
FERDINAND
Marry? They are most luxurious1
Will wed twice.
CARDINAL
Oh, fie!
FERDINAND
DUCHESS
Diamonds are of most value,
They say, that have passed through most jewellers’ hands.
FERDINAND
Whores, by that rule, are precious.
DUCHESS
Will you hear me?
I’ll never marry.
CARDINAL
So most widows say,
But commonly that motion4 lasts no longer
Than the turning of an hour-glass; the funeral sermon
And it end both together.
FERDINAND
Now hear me:
You live in a rank pasture here, i’th’ court.
There is a kind of honey-dew5 that’s deadly:
220 ’Twill poison your fame. Look to’t. Be not cunning,
For they whose faces do belie their hearts
Are witches ere they arrive at twenty years,
Ay, and give the devil suck.
DUCHESS
This is terrible good counsel.
FERDINAND
Hypocrisy is woven of a fine, small thread,
Subtler than Vulcan’s engine.1 Yet, believe’t,
Your darkest actions – nay, your privat’st thoughts –
Will come to light.
CARDINAL
You may flatter yourself,
And take your own choice: privately be married
Under the eves of night –
FERDINAND
Think’t the best voyage
230 That e’er you made, like the irregular crab
Which, though’t goes backward, thinks that it goes right
Because it goes its own way. But observe:
Such weddings may more properly be said
To be executed than celebrated.
CARDINAL
The marriage night
Is the entrance into some prison.
FERDINAND
And those joys,
Those lustful pleasures, are like heavy sleeps
Which do forerun man’s mischief.
CARDINAL
DUCHESS
I think this speech between you both was studied,3
It came so roundly off.
240 You are my sister;
This was my father’s poniard [drawing a dagger]. Do you see?
I’d be loath to see’t look rusty,1 ’cause ’twas his.
I would have you to give o’er these chargeable2 revels;
A visor and a masque are whispering-rooms
That were ne’er built for goodness. Fare ye well –
And women like that part which, like the lamprey,3
Hath ne’er a bone in’t.
DUCHESS
Fie, sir!4
FERDINAND
Nay,
I mean the tongue: variety of courtship.
What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale5
250 Make a woman believe? Farewell, lusty widow.
[Exit FERDINAND.]
DUCHESS
Shall this move me? If all my royal kindred
Lay in my way unto this marriage
I’d make them my low foot-steps.6 And, even now,
Even in this hate, as men in some great battles,
By apprehending danger, have achieved
Almost impossible actions – I have heard soldiers say so –
So I, through frights and threat’nings, will assay
This dangerous venture. Let old wives report
I winked7 and chose a husband.
Cariola,
260 To thy known secrecy I have given up
More than my life: my fame.1
CARIOLA
Both shall be safe;
For I’ll conceal this secret from the world
As warily as those that trade in poison
Keep poison from their children.
DUCHESS
CARIOLA
He attends you.
DUCHESS
Good. Dear soul,
Leave me, but place thyself behind the arras,3
Where thou may’st overhear us. Wish me good speed,
For I am going into a wilderness
270 Where I shall find nor path nor friendly clew4
To be my guide.
[CARIOLA goes behind the arras. Enter ANTONIO.]
I sent for you. Sit down.
Take pen and ink, and write. Are you ready?
ANTONIO [sitting at a desk]
Yes.
DUCHESS
What did I say?
ANTONIO
That I should write somewhat.
Oh, I remember:
After these triumphs,1 and this large expense,
It’s fit, like thrifty husbands,2 we enquire
What’s laid up for tomorrow.
ANTONIO
So please your beauteous excellence.
DUCHESS
ANTONIO [rising]
I’ll fetch your Grace the particulars
Of your revenue and expense.
DUCHESS
Oh, you are an upright4 treasurer, but you mistook;
For when I said I meant to make enquiry
What’s laid up for tomorrow, I did mean
What’s laid up yonder for me.
ANTONIO
Where?
DUCHESS
In heaven.
I am making my will, as ’tis fit princes should
In perfect memory; and I pray, sir, tell me:
Were not one better make it smiling thus,
290 Than in deep groans and terrible, ghastly looks,
As if the gifts we parted with procured5
That violent destruction?
ANTONIO
Oh, much better.
If I had a husband now, this care were quit;
But I intend to make you overseer.1
What good deed shall we first remember? Say.
ANTONIO
Begin with that first good deed began i’th’ world,
After man’s creation: the sacrament of marriage.
I’d have you first provide for a good husband;
Give him all.
DUCHESS
All?
ANTONIO
Yes, your excellent self.
DUCHESS
In a winding-sheet?
ANTONIO
DUCHESS
St Winifred,3 that were a strange will!
ANTONIO:
’Twere strange if there were no will in you
To marry again.
DUCHESS
What do you think of marriage?
ANTONIO
I take’t as those that deny purgatory:
It locally contains or heaven or hell;
There’s no third place in’t.
DUCHESS
How do you affect4 it?
My banishment,1 feeding my melancholy,
Would often reason thus –
DUCHESS
Pray, let’s hear it.
ANTONIO
Say a man never marry, nor have children,
310 What takes that from him? Only the bare name
Of being a father, or the weak delight
To see the little wanton2 ride a-cock-horse
Upon a painted stick, or hear him chatter
Like a taught starling.
DUCHESS
Fie, fie, what’s all this?
One of your eyes is bloodshot. Use my ring to’t;
[She gives him a ring.]
They say ’tis very sovereign.3 ’Twas my wedding-ring,
And I did vow never to part with it
But to my second husband.
ANTONIO
You have parted with it now.
DUCHESS
Yes, to help your eyesight.
ANTONIO
You have made me stark blind.
DUCHESS
320 How?
ANTONIO
There is a saucy and ambitious devil
Is dancing in this circle.
DUCHESS
Remove him.
How?
DUCHESS
There needs small conjuration when your finger
May do it thus –
[She puts the ring on his finger.]
Is it fit?
ANTONIO
What said you?
He kneels.
DUCHESS
Sir,
This goodly roof of yours is too low-built.
I cannot stand upright in’t, nor discourse
Without I raise it higher. Raise yourself,
Or, if you please, my hand to help you: so.
[The DUCHESS raises him up.]
ANTONIO
Ambition, madam, is a great man’s madness,
330 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 aim1
Whereto your favours tend, but he’s a fool
That, being a-cold, would thrust his hands i’th’ fire
To warm them.
DUCHESS
So, now the ground’s broke,
You may discover what a wealthy mine
I make you lord of.
ANTONIO
Oh, my unworthiness!
DUCHESS
340 You were ill to sell yourself.
This dark’ning of your worth is not like that
Which tradesmen use i’th’ city: their false lights
Are to rid bad wares off;1 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 served Virtue
And ne’er ta’en wages of her.
DUCHESS
Now she pays it.
350 The misery of us that are born great!
We are forced to woo because none dare woo us;
And, as a tyrant doubles with his words,
And fearfully equivocates, so we
Are forced 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.
360 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.
370 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.1
[She kisses him.]
This you should have begged 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.
[She embraces him.]
All discord, without this circumference,2
Is only to be pitied, and not feared.
Yet, should they know it, time will easily
Scatter the tempest.
ANTONIO
380 These words should be mine,
And all the parts3 you have spoke, if some part of it
Would not have savoured flattery.
DUCHESS
Kneel.
[They kneel. CARIOLA comes from behind the arras.]
ANTONIO
Ha?
DUCHESS
Be not amazed. This woman’s of my counsel.
I have heard lawyers say a contract in a chamber,
Per verba de presenti,4 is absolute marriage.
Bless, heaven, this sacred Gordian,1 which let violence
Never untwine.
ANTONIO
And may our sweet affections, like the spheres,
Be still2 in motion –
DUCHESS
390 Quick’ning, and make
The like soft music –
ANTONIO
That we may imitate the loving palms,3
Best emblem of a peaceful marriage,
That ne’er bore fruit divided.
DUCHESS
What can the Church force4 more?
ANTONIO
That Fortune may not know an accident,
Either of joy or sorrow, to divide
Our fixèd wishes.
DUCHESS
How can the Church build faster?5
[They stand up.]
We now are man and wife, and ’tis the Church
That must but echo this. [To CARIOLA] Maid, stand apart.
[Covering her eyes] I now am blind.
ANTONIO
400 What’s your conceit in this?
DUCHESS
I would have you lead your Fortune6 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
T’appease my humorous1 kindred; and, if you please,
Like the old tale in Alexander and Lodowick,2
Lay a naked sword between us; keep us chaste.
Oh, let me shroud3 my blushes in your bosom,
Since ’tis the treasury of all my secrets.
CARIOLA [Aside]
410 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. Exeunt.
[Enter] BOSOLA [and] CASTRUCCIO.
BOSOLA
You say you would fain be taken for an eminent courtier?4
CASTRUCCIO
’Tis the very main of my ambition.
BOSOLA
Let me see: you have a reasonable good face for’t already, and your night-cap5 expresses your ears sufficient largely. I
5 would have 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 three or four times, or blow your nose, till it smart again, to recover your memory. When you come to be a president1 in criminal causes, if you smile upon a prisoner,
10 hang him, but if you frown upon him and threaten him, let him be sure to ’scape the gallows.
CASTRUCCIO
I would be a very merry president.
BOSOLA
Do not sup a’ nights; ’twill beget you an admirable wit.
CASTRUCCIO
Rather it would make me have a good stomach to quarrel, for they say your roaring-boys2 eat meat seldom, and that makes them so valiant. But how shall I know whether the people take me for an 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 taken
20 for one of the prime night-caps.
[Enter OLD LADY.]
You come from painting3 now?
OLD LADY
From what?
BOSOLA
Why, from your scurvy face-physic. To behold thee not painted inclines somewhat near a miracle. These in thy face, here, were deep ruts and foul sloughs4 the last progress.5 There was a lady in France that, having had the smallpox, flayed the skin off her face to make it more level; and whereas before she looked like a nutmeg-grater, after she resembled an abortive hedgehog.
OLD LADY
30 Do you call this painting?
OLD LADY
It seems you are well acquainted with my closet.6
BOSOLA
One would suspect it for a shop of witchcraft, to find in it the fat of serpents, spawn of snakes, Jews’ spittle, and their young children’s ordure, and all these for the face. I would sooner eat a dead pigeon, taken from the soles of the feet of one sick of the plague,7 than kiss one of you fastings.8 Here are two of
40 you whose sin of your youth is the very patrimony of the physician – makes him renew his footcloth9 with the spring, and change his high-priced courtesan with 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 beloved? 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.
50 Man stands amazed 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 wolf1 and swinish measle;2
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.3 All our fear –
Nay, all our terror – is lest our physician
60 Should put us in the ground to be made sweet.
[To CASTRUCCIO] Your wife’s gone to Rome. You two couple, and get you
To the wells at Lucca,4 to recover your aches.
[Exeunt CASTRUCCIO and OLD LADY.]
I have other work on foot. I observe our Duchess
Is sick a’days. She pukes, her stomach seethes,
The fins5 of her eyelids look most teeming blue,
She wanes i’th’ cheek and waxes fat i’th’ flank;
And, contrary to our Italian fashion,
Wears a loose-bodied6 gown. There’s somewhat in’t.
I have a trick may chance discover it,
70 A pretty one. I have bought some apricots,
The first our spring yields.
[Enter DELIO and ANTONIO who talk apart.]
DELIO
And so long since married?
You amaze me.
ANTONIO
Let me seal your lips forever;
For did I think that anything but th’air
Could carry these words from you, I should wish
You had no breath at all.
[To BOSOLA] Now, sir, in your contemplation?
You are studying to become a great, wise fellow.
Oh sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul tetter1 that runs all over a man’s body. If simplicity direct us to have no evil, it
80 directs us to a happy being; for the subtlest folly proceeds 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
Puffed 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 compliment whatsoever. Shall I confess myself to you? I look no higher than I can reach. They are the gods that must ride on winged
90 horses. A lawyer’s mule of a slow pace will both suit my disposition and business; for, mark me, when a man’s mind rides faster than his horse can 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
Oh, sir, you are lord of the ascendant,2 chief man with the Duchess. A duke was your cousin-german, removed.3 Say you were lineally descended from King Pippin,4 or he himself, what of this? Search the heads of the greatest rivers in the world, you shall find them but bubbles of water. Some would
100 think the souls of princes were brought forth by some more weighty cause than those of meaner persons. They are deceived. There’s the same hand to them; the like passions sway them; the same reason that makes a vicar go to law for a tithe-pig and undo his neighbours makes them spoil a whole province, and batter down goodly cities with the cannon.
[Enter DUCHESS and ATTENDANTS.]
DUCHESS
Your arm, Antonio.
[She leans upon him.]
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
110 The Duchess used one when she was great with child.
DUCHESS
I think she did. [To ATTENDANT] Come hither; mend my ruff.
Here. When? Thou art such a tedious lady, and
Thy breath smells of lemon pills.1 Would thou hadst done!
Shall I swoon under thy fingers? I am
So troubled with the mother.2
BOSOLA [Aside]
I fear too much.
DUCHESS [To ANTONIO]
I have heard you say that the French courtiers
Wear their hats on ’fore the King.
ANTONIO
I have seen it.
DUCHESS
In the presence?
ANTONIO
Yes.
DUCHESS
Why should not we bring up that fashion?
120 ’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 showed reverently.
BOSOLA
I have a present for your Grace.
DUCHESS
For me, sir?
BOSOLA
Apricots, madam.
DUCHESS
Oh, sir, where are they?
I have heard of none to-year.
[BOSOLA gives her the fruit.]
BOSOLA [Aside]
Good, her colour rises.
DUCHESS [eating greedily]
130 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 pared ’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
Oh, you jest!
[To ANTONIO] You shall judge. Pray, taste one.
140 Indeed, madam,
I do not love the fruit.
DUCHESS
Sir, you are loath
To rob us of our dainties.1 ’Tis a delicate fruit.
They say they are restorative.
BOSOLA
’Tis a pretty art,
This grafting.2
DUCHESS
’Tis so: a bett’ring of nature.
BOSOLA
To make a pippin grow upon a crab,
A damson on a blackthorn. [Aside] How greedily she eats them!
A whirlwind strike off these bawd-farthingales,3
For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown,
I should have discovered apparently4
DUCHESS
I thank you, Bosola. They were right good ones –
If they do not make me sick.
[The DUCHESS appears unwell.]
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 swelled already.
Oh, I am in an extreme cold sweat!
BOSOLA
I am very sorry. [Exit.]
DUCHESS [To SERVANTS]
Lights to my chamber! [Aside] O good Antonio,
I fear I am undone. Exeunt DUCHESS [and ATTENDANTS].
DELIO
Lights there, lights!
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
160 Have you prepared
Those ladies to attend her, and procured
That politic, safe conveyance for the midwife
Your Duchess plotted?
ANTONIO
I have.
DELIO
Make use, then, of this forced occasion.
Give out that Bosola hath poisoned her
With these apricots – 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 prepared antidote of her own,
170 Lest the physicians should re-poison her.
ANTONIO
I am lost in amazement. I know not what to think on’t.
Exeunt.
[Enter] BOSOLA [and] OLD LADY.
BOSOLA [Aside]
So, so, there’s no question but her tetchiness and most vulturous eating of the apricots are apparent signs of breeding.
[To OLD LADY] Now –
OLD LADY
I am in haste, sir.1
BOSOLA
There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desire to see the glass-house – 2
OLD LADY
Nay, pray let me go.
BOSOLA
– And it was only to know what strange instrument it was should swell up a glass to the fashion of a woman’s belly.
OLD LADY
10 I will hear no more of the glass-house. You are still abusing women.
BOSOLA
20 Who, I? No, only by the way, now and then, mention your frailties. The orange tree bears ripe and green fruit, and blossoms all together; and some of you give entertainment3 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 showers that rained in the time of Jupiter the Thunderer, you have the same Danäes still, to hold up their laps to receive them.4 Didst thou never study the mathematics?
What’s that, sir?
BOSOLA
Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in one centre. Go, go give your foster-daughters good counsel. Tell them that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman’s girdle, like a false, rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes. [Exit OLD LADY.]
[Enter ANTONIO, DELIO, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN.]
ANTONIO
Shut up the court gates!
RODERIGO
Why, sir? What’s the danger?
ANTONIO
Shut up the posterns presently,1 and call
All the officers o’th’ court.
GRISOLAN
I shall, instantly. [Exit.]
ANTONIO
Who keeps the key o’th’ park-gate?
RODERIGO
30 Forobosco.
ANTONIO
Let him bring’t presently.
[Exeunt ANTONIO and RODERIGO.]
[Enter OFFICERS.]
[FIRST] OFFICER
Oh, gentlemen o’th’ court, the foulest treason!
BOSOLA [Aside]
If that these apricots should be poisoned now,
Without my knowledge!
[FIRST] OFFICER
There was taken even now a Switzer2 in the Duchess’s bedchamber.
SECOND OFFICER
A Switzer?
With a pistol1 in his great codpiece.
BOSOLA
Ha, ha, ha!
[FIRST] OFFICER
40 The codpiece was the case for’t.
SECOND OFFICER
There was a cunning traitor! Who would have searched his codpiece?
[FIRST] OFFICER
True, if he had kept out of the ladies’ chambers – and all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets.
SECOND OFFICER
[FIRST] OFFICER
’Twas a French plot,4 upon my life!
SECOND OFFICER
To see what the devil can do!
[Enter ANTONIO, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN.]
ANTONIO
All the officers here?
OFFICERS
We are.
ANTONIO
Gentlemen,
We have lost much plate, you know; and but this evening
50 Jewels to the value of four thousand ducats
Are missing in the Duchess’s cabinet.5
Are the gates shut?
OFFICERS
Yes.
’Tis the Duchess’s pleasure
Each officer be locked into his chamber
Till the sun-rising, and to send the keys
Of all their chests, and of their outward doors,
Into her bedchamber. She is very sick.
RODERIGO
At her pleasure.
ANTONIO
She entreats you take’t not ill. The innocent
Shall be the more approved by it.
BOSOLA
60 Gentleman o’th’ wood-yard,1 where’s your Switzer now?
[FIRST] OFFICER
By this hand, ’twas credibly reported by one o’th’ black-guard.2
[Exeunt all but ANTONIO and DELIO.]
DELIO
How fares it with the Duchess?
ANTONIO
She’s exposed
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
Oh, ’tis far from me, and yet fear presents me
Somewhat that looks like danger.
70 Believe it,
’Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more.
How superstitiously we mind1 our evils!
The throwing-down salt, or crossing of a hare,
Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,
Or singing of a cricket,2 are of power
To daunt whole man3 in us. Sir, fare you well.
I wish you all the joys of a blessed father,
And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast:
Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
[Exit DELIO.]
[Enter CARIOLA, holding an infant.]
CARIOLA
80 Sir, you are the happy father of a son.
Your wife commends him to you.
ANTONIO
Blessed comfort!
For heaven’s sake, tend her well. I’ll presently
Go set a figure for’s nativity.4 Exeunt.
[Enter] BOSOLA [with a dark lantern].5
BOSOLA
Sure, I did hear a woman shriek. List! Ha?
And the sound came, if I received it right,
From the Duchess’s 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 –
[Enter ANTONIO, with a light and his sword drawn.]
Ha? Antonio?
ANTONIO
10 I heard some noise. Who’s there? What art thou? Speak.
BOSOLA
Antonio! Put not your face nor body
To such a forced expression of fear.
I am Bosola, your friend.
ANTONIO
Bosola?
[Aside] This mole does undermine me. [Aloud] Heard you not
A noise even now?
BOSOLA
From whence?
ANTONIO
From the Duchess’s
lodging?
BOSOLA
Not I. Did you?
ANTONIO
I did, or else I dreamed.
BOSOLA
Let’s walk towards it.
ANTONIO
No. It may be ’twas
But the rising of the wind.
[He sheathes his sword.]
BOSOLA
Very likely.
Methinks ’tis very cold, and yet you sweat.
You look wildly.
BOSOLA
Ah, and how falls your question?
Do you find it radical?3
ANTONIO
What’s that to you?
’Tis rather to be questioned what design,
When all men were commanded to their lodgings,
Makes you a night-walker.4
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.
30 [Aloud] You gave the Duchess apricots today.
Pray heaven they were not poisoned!
BOSOLA
Poisoned? A Spanish fig5
For the imputation!
ANTONIO
Traitors are ever confident
Till they are discovered. There were jewels stol’n too.
In my conceit, none are to be suspected
More than yourself.
You are a false steward.
ANTONIO
Saucy slave, I’ll pull thee up by the roots!
BOSOLA
Maybe the ruin will crush you to pieces.
ANTONIO
You are an impudent snake, indeed, sir.
40 Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?
BOSOLA
…1
ANTONIO
You libel well, sir.
BOSOLA
No, sir. Copy it out,
And I will set my hand to’t.
ANTONIO
My nose bleeds.
[He takes out a handkerchief, and drops a paper.]
One that were superstitious would count
This ominous, when it merely comes by chance.
Two letters2 that are wrought here for my name
Are drowned in blood. Mere accident.
[To BOSOLA] For you, sir, I’ll take order.
I’th’ morn you shall be safe. [Aside] ’Tis that must colour
50 Her lying-in. [Aloud] Sir, this door you pass not:
I do not hold it fit that you come near
The Duchess’s 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. [Holding up the lantern]
Oh, here it is.
[He takes up the paper.]
What’s here? A child’s nativity calculated!
[Reads] ‘The Duchess was delivered of a son, ’tween the hours twelve and one, in the night, Anno Domini 1504’ –
60 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 combust1 in the ascendant, signifies short life; and Mars being in a human sign,2 joined to the tail of the Dragon,3 in the eighth house,4 doth threaten a violent death. Caetera non scrutantur.’5
Why, now ’tis most apparent. This precise6 fellow
Is the Duchess’s bawd! I have it to my wish.
This is a parcel of intelligency
70 Our courtiers were cased-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 thrifty7 way.
Though Lust do masque in ne’er so strange disguise,
She’s oft found witty, but is never wise. [Exit.]