[Enter] ANTONIO [and] DELIO.
ANTONIO
What think you of my hope of reconcilement
To the Aragonian brethren?
DELIO
I misdoubt it,
For though they have sent their letters of safe conduct
For your repair to Milan, they appear
But nets to entrap you. The Marquis of Pescara,
Under whom you hold certain land in ’cheat,2
Much ’gainst his noble nature, hath been moved
To seize those lands, and some of his dependents
Are, at this instant, making it their suit
10 To be invested in your revenues.
I cannot think they mean well to your life
That do deprive you of your means of life –
Your living.
ANTONIO
You are still an heretic
To any safety I can shape myself.
[Enter PESCARA.]
DELIO
Here comes the Marquis. I will make myself
Petitioner for some part of your land
To know whither it is flying.
ANTONIO
I pray, do.
[ANTONIO stands aside.]
DELIO
Sir, I have a suit to you.
PESCARA
To me?
DELIO
An easy one.
There is the citadel of St Bennet,1
20 With some demesnes,2 of late in the possession
Of Antonio Bologna. Please you, bestow them on me.
PESCARA
You are my friend; but this is such a suit
Nor fit for me to give, nor you to take.
DELIO
No, sir?
[Enter JULIA.]
PESCARA
I will give you ample reason for’t
Soon in private. Here’s the Cardinal’s mistress.
My lord, I am grown your poor petitioner,
And should be an ill beggar, had I not
A great man’s letter here, the Cardinal’s,
To court you in my favour.
[She gives PESCARA the letter which he reads.]
PESCARA
He entreats for you
30 The citadel of Saint Bennet, that belonged
To the banished Bologna.
JULIA
Yes.
PESCARA
I could not have thought of a friend I could
Rather pleasure with it: ’tis yours.
JULIA
Sir, I thank you;
And he shall know how doubly I am engaged
Both in your gift, and speediness of giving,
Which makes your grant the greater. Exit.
ANTONIO [Aside]
How they fortify
Themselves with my ruin!
DELIO [To PESCARA]
Sir, I am
Little bound to you.
PESCARA
Why?
DELIO
Because you denied this suit to me, and gave’t
To such a creature.
PESCARA
40 Do you know what it was?
It was Antonio’s land – not forfeited
By course of law, but ravished from his throat
By the Cardinal’s entreaty. It were not fit
I should bestow so main a piece of wrong
Upon my friend; ’tis a gratification
Only due to a strumpet, for it is injustice.
Shall I sprinkle the pure blood of innocents
To make those followers I call my friends
Look ruddier1 upon me? I am glad
50 This land, ta’en from the owner by such wrong,
Returns again unto so foul an use
As salary for his lust. Learn, good Delio,
To ask noble things of me, and you shall find
I’ll be a noble giver.
DELIO
You instruct me well.
ANTONIO [Aside]
Why, here’s a man, now, would fright impudence
From sauciest beggars.
PESCARA
Prince Ferdinand’s come to Milan
Sick, as they give out, of an apoplexy;
But some say ’tis a frenzy.2 I am going
To visit him. Exit.
ANTONIO [coming forward]
’Tis a noble old fellow.
DELIO
60 What course do you mean to take, Antonio?
ANTONIO
This night I mean to venture all my fortune –
Which is no more than a poor, ling’ring life –
To the Cardinal’s worst of malice. I have got
Private access to his chamber, and intend
To visit him about the mid of night,
As once his brother did our noble Duchess.
It may be that the sudden apprehension
Of danger – for I’ll go in mine own shape –
When he shall see it fraught with love and duty,
70 May draw the poison out of him, and work
A friendly reconcilement. If it fail,
Yet it shall rid me of this infamous calling;1
For better fall once than be ever falling.
DELIO
ANTONIO
You are still my loved and best friend. Exeunt.
[Enter] PESCARA [and] a DOCTOR.
PESCARA
Now, Doctor, may I visit your patient?
DOCTOR
If’t please your lordship, but he’s instantly
To take the air here in the gallery,3
By my direction.
PESCARA
Pray thee, what’s his disease?
DOCTOR
A very pestilent4 disease, my lord,
They call ‘lycanthropia’.
PESCARA
What’s that?
I need a dictionary to’t.
DOCTOR
I’ll tell you:
In those that are possessed with’t there o’erflows
Such melancholy humour, they imagine
10 Themselves to be transformed into wolves:
Steal forth to churchyards in the dead of night,
And dig dead bodies up; as, two nights since,
One met the Duke, ’bout midnight, in a lane
Behind St Mark’s church, with the leg of a man
Upon his shoulder; and he howled fearfully,
Said he was a wolf – only the difference
Was a wolf’s skin was hairy on the outside,
His on the inside; bade them take their swords,
Rip up his flesh, and try. Straight I was sent for,
20 And having ministered to him, found his Grace
Very well recovered.
PESCARA
I am glad on’t.
DOCTOR
Yet not without some fear of a relapse.
If he grow to his fit again I’ll go
A nearer1 way to work with him than ever
Paracelsus2 dreamed of. If they’ll give me leave,
I’ll buffet3 his madness out of him.
Stand aside. He comes.
[Enter FERDINAND, MALATESTE, CARDINAL and BOSOLA.]
FERDINAND
Leave me.
MALATESTE
Why doth your lordship love this solitariness?
FERDINAND
30 Eagles commonly fly alone. They are crows, daws and starlings that flock together. Look, what’s that follows me?
MALATESTE
Nothing, my lord.
FERDINAND
Yes.
MALATESTE
’Tis your shadow.
FERDINAND
Stay it! Let it not haunt me.1
MALATESTE
Impossible if you move and the sun shine.
FERDINAND
I will throttle it.
[He throws himself onto the shadow.]
MALATESTE
Oh, my lord, you are angry with nothing!
FERDINAND
You are a fool.
40 How is’t possible I should catch my shadow
Unless I fall upon’t? When I go to hell,
I mean to carry a bribe, for look you,
Good gifts ever more make way for the worst persons.
PESCARA
Rise, good my lord.
FERDINAND
I am studying the art of patience.
PESCARA
’Tis a noble virtue.
FERDINAND
CARDINAL
Force him up.
[They get FERDINAND to his feet.]
FERDINAND
Use me well, you were best. What I have done, I have done;
I’ll confess nothing.4
Now let me come to him. Are you mad, my lord? Are you out of your princely wits?
FERDINAND
What’s he?
PESCARA
Your doctor.
FERDINAND
Let me have his beard sawed off, and his eyebrows filed more civil.1
DOCTOR [Aside]
60 I must do mad tricks with him, for that’s the only way on’t.
[Aloud] I have brought your grace a salamander’s2 skin to keep you from sun-burning.
FERDINAND
I have cruel sore eyes.
DOCTOR
The white of a cockatrice’s3 egg is present remedy.
FERDINAND
Let it be a new-laid one, you were best. [To PESCARA] Hide me from him! Physicians are like kings: they brook no contradiction.
DOCTOR
Now he begins to fear me. Now let me alone with him.
[FERDINAND starts to undress.]
CARDINAL
How now, put off your gown?
[The CARDINAL restrains him.]
DOCTOR
70 Let me have some forty urinals filled with rose-water. He and I’ll go pelt one another with them. Now he begins to fear me. – Can you fetch a frisk,1 sir? – Let him go, let him go, upon my peril.
[The CARDINAL releases him.]
I find by his eye he stands in awe of me; I’ll make him as tame as a dormouse.
[FERDINAND attacks the DOCTOR.]
FERDINAND
80 Can you fetch your frisks, sir? I will stamp him into a cullis,2 flay off his skin to cover one of the anatomies3 this rogue hath set i’th’ cold yonder, in Barber-Chirurgeons’ Hall. Hence, hence! You are all of you like beasts for sacrifice; there’s nothing left of you but tongue and belly – flattery and lechery. [Exit.]
PESCARA
Doctor, he did not fear you throughly.
DOCTOR
True, I was somewhat too forward. [Exit.]
BOSOLA [Aside]
Mercy upon me, what a fatal judgement
Hath fall’n upon this Ferdinand!
PESCARA
Knows your Grace
What accident hath brought unto the Prince
This strange distraction?
CARDINAL [Aside]
I must feign somewhat. [Aloud] Thus they say it grew:
You have heard it rumoured for these many years,
90 None of our family dies but there is seen
The shape of an old woman, which is given
By tradition to us to have been murdered
By her nephews for her riches. Such a figure
One night, as the Prince sat up late at’s book,
Appeared to him, when, crying out for help,
The gentlemen of’s chamber found his Grace
All on a cold sweat, altered much in face
And language; since which apparition,
He hath grown worse and worse, and I much fear
100 He cannot live.
BOSOLA [To the CARDINAL]
Sir, I would speak with you.
PESCARA
We’ll leave your Grace,
Wishing to the sick Prince, our noble lord,
All health of mind and body.
CARDINAL
You are most welcome.
[Exeunt all except CARDINAL AND BOSOLA.]
[Aside] Are you come? So. This fellow must not know
By any means I had intelligence
In our Duchess’s death; for, though I counselled it,
The full of all th’engagement1 seemed to grow
From Ferdinand. [To BOSOLA] Now sir, how fares our sister?
I do not think but sorrow makes her look
110 Like to an oft-dyed garment. She shall now
Taste comfort from me. Why do you look so wildly?
Oh, the fortune of your master here, the Prince,
Dejects you; but be you of happy comfort.
If you’ll do one thing for me, I’ll entreat,
Though he had a cold tombstone o’er his bones,2
I’d make you what you would be.
BOSOLA
Anything.
Give it me in a breath, and let me fly to’t.
They that think long, small expedition3 win,
For musing much o’th’ end, cannot begin.
[Enter JULIA.]
JULIA
Sir, will you come in to supper?
120 I am busy. Leave me.
JULIA [Aside]
What an excellent shape hath that fellow! Exit.
CARDINAL
’Tis thus: Antonio lurks here in Milan.
Enquire him out and kill him. While he lives
Our sister cannot marry, and I have thought
Of an excellent match for her. Do this, and style me
Thy advancement.1
BOSOLA
But by what means shall I find him out?
CARDINAL
There is a gentleman called Delio,
Here in the camp, that hath been long approved
His loyal friend. Set eye upon that fellow,
130 Follow him to Mass: may be Antonio,
Although he do account religion
But a school-name,2 for fashion of the world
May accompany him; or else go enquire out
Delio’s confessor, and see if you can bribe
Him to reveal it. There are a thousand ways
A man might find to trace him, as to know
What fellows haunt the Jews for taking up3
Great sums of money – for sure he’s in want;
Or else to go to th’picture-makers and learn
140 Who bought her picture lately. Some of these
Happily4 may take.
BOSOLA
Well, I’ll not freeze i’th’ business.
I would see that wretched thing, Antonio,
Above all sights i’th’ world.
Do, and be happy. Exit.
BOSOLA
This fellow doth breed basilisks in’s eyes.
He’s nothing else but Murder. Yet he seems
Not to have notice of the Duchess’s death.
’Tis his cunning. I must follow his example:
There cannot be a surer way to trace
Than that of an old fox.
[Enter JULIA, pointing a pistol at him.]
JULIA
So, sir, you are well met.
BOSOLA
How now?
JULIA
150 Nay, the doors are fast enough.
Now, sir, I will make you confess your treachery.
BOSOLA
Treachery?
JULIA
Yes, confess to me
Which of my women ’twas you hired to put
Love-powder into my drink.
BOSOLA
Love-powder?
JULIA
Yes, when I was at Malfi;
Why should I fall in love with such a face else?
I have already suffered for thee so much pain,
The only remedy to do me good
Is to kill my longing.
BOSOLA
Sure, your pistol holds
160 Nothing but perfumes or kissing comfits.1 Excellent lady,
You have a pretty way on’t to discover
Your longing. Come, come, I’ll disarm you,
And arm you thus. [Embracing her] Yet this is wondrous strange!
JULIA
Compare thy form and my eyes together,
You’ll find my love no such great miracle.
[She kisses him.]
Now you’ll say I am wanton. This nice1 modesty
In ladies is but a troublesome familiar
That haunts them.
BOSOLA
Know you me? I am a blunt soldier.
JULIA
BOSOLA
And I want compliment.3
JULIA
Why,
Ignorance in courtship cannot make you do amiss,
If you have a heart to do well.
BOSOLA
You are very fair.
JULIA
Nay, if you lay beauty to my charge,
I must plead unguilty.
BOSOLA
Your bright eyes
Carry a quiver of darts in them, sharper
Than sunbeams.
JULIA
You will mar me with commendation.
Put yourself to the charge of courting me,
Whereas now I woo you.
BOSOLA [Aside]
180 I have it: I will work upon this creature.
[To JULIA] Let us grow most amorously familiar.
If the great Cardinal now should see me thus,
Would he not count me a villain?
JULIA
No, he might count me a wanton,
Not lay a scruple of offence on you;
For if I see and steal a diamond,
The fault is not i’th’ stone but in me the thief
That purloins it. I am sudden with you;
We that are great women of pleasure use to cut off
190 These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings,
And in an instant join the sweet delight
And the pretty excuse together. Had you been in th’street,
Under my chamber window, even there
I should have courted you.
BOSOLA
Oh, you are an excellent lady!
JULIA
Bid me do somewhat for you presently,1
To express I love you.
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
200 With feigned 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 dependence.
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 featherbeds,
But must have blocks for their pillows.
BOSOLA
210 Will you do this?
JULIA
Cunningly.
BOSOLA
Tomorrow I’ll expect th’intelligence.
JULIA
Tomorrow? Get you into my cabinet;1
You shall have it with you. Do not delay me,
No more than I do you. I am like one
That is condemned: I have my pardon promised,
But I would see it sealed. Go, get you in.
You shall see me wind my tongue about his heart
Like a skein of silk.
[BOSOLA withdraws into the cabinet.]
[Enter CARDINAL.]
CARDINAL
Where are you?
[Enter SERVANTS.]
SERVANTS
Here.
Let none, upon your lives,
220 Have conference with the Prince Ferdinand
Unless I know it. [Exeunt SERVANTS.]
[Aside] In this distraction
He may reveal the murder.
[Seeing JULIA] Yond’s my ling’ring 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
Oh, you are much altered.
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
230 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
240 What they hear, though most imperfect, and not me.
For, if that you be true unto yourself,1
I’ll know.
CARDINAL
Will you rack2 me?
JULIA
No, judgement 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?
250 You have concealed 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 advised, and think what danger ’tis
To receive a prince’s secrets. They that do
Had need have their breasts hooped with adamant3
To contain them. I pray thee, yet be satisfied.
Examine thine own frailty. ’Tis more easy
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 strangled.
JULIA
Oh heaven! Sir, what have you done?
CARDINAL
How now? How settles this?1 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
270 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 poisoned with that book.
Because I knew thou could’st not keep my counsel,
I have bound thee to’t by death.
BOSOLA emerges from the cabinet.
For pity sake, hold!
CARDINAL
Ha, Bosola?
JULIA
I forgive you
This equal piece of justice you have done,
For I betrayed your counsel to that fellow.
280 He overheard it; that was the cause I said
It lay not in me to conceal it.
BOSOLA
Oh foolish woman,
Could’st not thou have poisoned him?
JULIA
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 remember1 my service.
CARDINAL
I’ll have thee hewed in pieces!
BOSOLA
Make not yourself such a promise of that life
Which is not yours to dispose of.
CARDINAL
290 Who placed thee here?
BOSOLA
Her lust, as she intended.
CARDINAL
Very well,
Now you know me for your fellow murderer.
And wherefore should you lay fair marble colours1
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’ graves of those were actors in’t?2
CARDINAL
No more, there is a fortune attends thee.
BOSOLA
Shall I go sue to Fortune any longer?
300 ’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
BOSOLA
Yes.
CARDINAL
Take up that body.
BOSOLA
CARDINAL
310 I will allow thee some dozen of attendants
To aid thee in the murder.
BOSOLA
Oh, 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, lest 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 enquiry after her death.
BOSOLA
Where’s Castruccio, her husband?
CARDINAL
320 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
330 To be frost-nailed1 well; they may break their necks else.
The precedent’s here afore me: how this man
Bears up in blood,2 seems fearless! Why, ’tis well:
Security3 some men call the suburbs of hell –
Only a dead4 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.1 It may be
I’ll join with thee in a most just revenge.
340 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.2
O Penitence, let me truly taste thy cup,
That throws men down, only to raise them up.
Exit [with JULIA’s body].
[Enter] ANTONIO, DELIO, [and] ECHO from the Duchess’s grave.3
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,4 and withal
So plain in the distinction of our words,
That many have supposed it is a spirit
That answers.
ANTONIO
I do love these ancient ruins.
10 We never tread upon them but we set
Our foot upon some reverend5 history,
And, questionless, here in this open court,
Which now lies naked to the injuries
Of stormy weather, some men lie interred
Loved the church so well, and gave so largely to’t,
They thought it should have canopied their bones
Till doomsday. But all things have their end:
Churches and cities, which have diseases1 like to men,
Must have like death that we have.
ECHO
Like death that we have.
DELIO
20 Now the echo hath caught you.
ANTONIO
It groaned, 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
ECHO
30 Do not.
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 throughout the passes1
Of your own life; you’ll find it impossible
To fly your fate.
ECHO
Oh, 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
40 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 marked 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;2
For to live thus is not indeed to live:
It is a mockery and abuse of life.
DELIO
Your own virtue save you.
I’ll fetch your eldest son and second you.
It may be that the sight of his1 own blood,
Spread2 in so sweet a figure, may beget
The more compassion.
ANTONIO
However,3 fare you well.
Though in our miseries Fortune have a part,
Yet in our noble suff’rings she hath none.
Contempt of pain – that we may call our own. Exeunt.
[Enter] CARDINAL, PESCARA, MALATESTE, RODERIGO [and] GRISOLAN [carrying torches].
CARDINAL
You shall not watch tonight by the sick prince.
His Grace is very well recovered.
MALATESTE
Good my lord, suffer4 us.
CARDINAL
Oh, by no means.
The noise, and change of object in his eye,
Doth more distract him. I pray, all to bed;
And though you hear him in his violent fit,
Do not rise, I entreat you.
PESCARA
So sir, we shall not.
Nay, I must have you promise
Upon your honours; for I was enjoined to’t
10 By himself, and he seemed to urge it sensibly.1
PESCARA
CARDINAL
Nor any of your followers.
MALATESTE
Neither.
CARDINAL
It may be, to make trial of your promise,
When he’s asleep, myself will rise and feign
Some of his mad tricks, and cry out for help,
And feign myself in danger.
MALATESTE
If your throat were cutting,
I’d not come at you, now I have protested3 against it.
CARDINAL
Why, I thank you.
[CARDINAL stands apart.]
GRISOLAN
20 ’Twas a foul storm tonight.
RODERIGO
The Lord Ferdinand’s chamber shook like an osier.4
MALATESTE
’Twas nothing but pure kindness in the devil
To rock his own child.
Exeunt [all except CARDINAL].
CARDINAL
The reason why I would not suffer these
About my brother is because at midnight
I may, with better privacy, convey
Julia’s body to her own lodging. O my conscience!
I would pray now, but the devil takes away my heart
Fro’ having any confidence in prayer.
[Enter BOSOLA, unseen.]
30 About this hour I appointed Bosola
To fetch the body. When he hath served my turn,
He dies. Exit.
BOSOLA
Ha? ’Twas the Cardinal’s voice. I heard him name
Bosola, and my death. Listen, I hear one’s footing.1
[Enter FERDINAND.]
FERDINAND
Strangling is a very quiet death.
BOSOLA [Aside]
Nay then, I see I must stand upon my guard.
FERDINAND
What say’ to that? Whisper softly: do you agree to’t?
So. It must be done i’th’ dark. The Cardinal
Would not for a thousand pounds the Doctor should see it.
Exit.
BOSOLA
40 My death is plotted; here’s the consequence of murder.
We value not desert nor Christian breath,
When we know black deeds must be cured with death.
[Enter SERVANT with ANTONIO.]
SERVANT
Here stay, sir, and be confident, I pray.
I’ll fetch you a dark lantern. Exit.
ANTONIO
Could I take him
At his prayers, there were hope of pardon.
BOSOLA
Fall right my sword!
I’ll not give thee so much leisure as to pray.
[He stabs ANTONIO in the dark.]
Oh, I am gone! Thou hast ended a long suit1
In a minute.
BOSOLA
What art thou?
ANTONIO
A most wretched thing,
50 That only have thy benefit2 in death,
To appear myself.
[Enter SERVANT with a dark lantern.]
SERVANT
Where are you, sir?
ANTONIO
Very near my home – Bosola?
SERVANT
Oh misfortune!
BOSOLA [To SERVANT]
Smother thy pity! Thou art dead else – Antonio!
The man I would have saved ’bove mine own life!
We are merely the stars’ tennis-balls, struck and banded3
Which way please them. O good Antonio,
I’ll whisper one thing in thy dying ear
Shall make thy heart break quickly: thy fair Duchess
And two sweet children –
ANTONIO
60 Their very names
Kindle a little life in me.
BOSOLA
– are murdered!
ANTONIO
Some men have wished to die
At the hearing of sad tidings. I am glad
That I shall do’t in sadness.4 I would not now
Wish my wounds balmed nor healed, for I have no use
To put my life to. In all our quest of greatness,
Like wanton boys whose pastime is their care,
We follow after bubbles blown in th’air.
Pleasure of life, what is’t? Only the good hours
80 Of an ague; merely a preparative to rest,
To endure vexation. I do not ask
The process of my death. Only commend me
To Delio.
BOSOLA
Break, heart!
ANTONIO
And let my son fly the courts of princes. [He dies.]
BOSOLA [To SERVANT]
Thou seem’st to have loved Antonio?
SERVANT
I brought him hither
To have reconciled him to the Cardinal.
BOSOLA
I do not ask thee that.
Take him up, if thou tender thine own life,
90 And bear him where the Lady Julia
Was wont to lodge. [Aside] Oh, my fate moves swift!
I have this Cardinal in the forge already.
Now I’ll bring him to th’hammer. O direful misprision!1
I will not imitate things glorious,
No more than base; I’ll be mine own example.
[To SERVANT] On, on, and look thou represent, for silence,
The thing thou bear’st.2
Exeunt [BOSOLA and SERVANT carrying ANTONIO’s body].
[Enter] CARDINAL, with a book.
CARDINAL
I am puzzled in a question about hell.
He says, in hell there’s one material fire,
And yet it shall not burn all men alike.
Lay him by.
[He puts down the book.]
How tedious is a guilty conscience!
When I look into the fish-ponds in my garden,
Methinks I see a thing, armed with a rake,
That seems to strike at me.
[Enter BOSOLA and SERVANT with ANTONIO’s body.]
Now, art thou come? Thou look’st ghastly.1
There sits in thy face some great determination,2
Mixed with some fear.
BOSOLA
10 Thus it lightens into action.
[He draws his sword.]
I am come to kill thee.
CARDINAL
Ha? Help! Our guard!
BOSOLA
Thou art deceived: they are out of thy howling.
CARDINAL
Hold, and I will faithfully divide
Revenues with thee.
BOSOLA
Thy prayers and proffers
Are both unseasonable.
Raise the watch! We are betrayed!
BOSOLA
I have confined your flight.
I’ll suffer your retreat to Julia’s chamber,
But no further.
CARDINAL
Help! We are betrayed!
[Enter above MALATESTE, RODERIGO, GRISOLAN and PESCARA.]
MALATESTE
20 Listen.
CARDINAL
My dukedom for rescue!
RODERIGO
Fie upon his counterfeiting!
MALATESTE
Why, ’tis not the Cardinal.
RODERIGO
Yes, yes, ’tis he,
But I’ll see him hanged ere I’ll go down to him.
CARDINAL
Here’s a plot upon me. I am assaulted! I am lost
Unless some rescue!
GRISOLAN
He doth this pretty well,
But it will not serve to laugh me out of mine honour.
CARDINAL
The sword’s at my throat!
RODERIGO
You would not bawl so loud then.
MALATESTE
Come, come, let’s go to bed.
30 He told us thus much aforehand.
PESCARA
He wished you should not come at him, but, believe’t,
The accent of the voice sounds not in jest.
I’ll down to him, howsoever, and with engines1
Force ope the doors. [Exit.]
RODERIGO
Let’s follow him aloof,
And note how the Cardinal will laugh at him.
[Exeunt MALATESTE, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN.]
BOSOLA
There’s for you first –
He kills the SERVANT.
’Cause you shall not unbarricade the door
To let in rescue.
CARDINAL
What cause hast thou to pursue my life?
BOSOLA
Look there!
CARDINAL
Antonio?
BOSOLA
40 Slain by my hand, unwittingly.
Pray, and be sudden. When thou killed’st thy sister,
Thou took’st from Justice her most equal balance,2
And left her naught but her sword.
CARDINAL
Oh, mercy!
BOSOLA
Now it seems thy greatness was only outward,
For thou fall’st faster of thyself than calamity
Can drive thee. I’ll not waste longer time. There!
[He stabs the CARDINAL.]
CARDINAL
Thou hast hurt me!
BOSOLA
Again!
[Stabs him again.]
Shall I die like a leveret,
Without any resistance? Help, help, help!
I am slain!
[Enter FERDINAND.]
FERDINAND
50 Th’alarum!1 Give me a fresh horse!
Rally the vanguard2 or the day is lost!3
[To the CARDINAL] Yield, yield! I give you the honour of arms,
Shake my sword over you. Will you yield?
CARDINAL
Help me! I am your brother.
FERDINAND
The devil?
My brother fight upon the adverse party?
He wounds the CARDINAL and, in the scuffle, gives BOSOLA his death-wound.
There flies your ransom.
CARDINAL
Oh, justice!
I suffer now for what hath former been:
Sorrow is held the eldest child of Sin.
FERDINAND
Now you’re brave4 fellows. Caesar’s fortune was harder than
60 Pompey’s: Caesar died in the arms of prosperity, Pompey at the feet of disgrace. You both died in the field. The pain’s nothing – pain, many times, is taken away with the apprehension of greater, as the toothache with the sight of a barber that comes to pull it out. There’s philosophy for you.
Now my revenge is perfect.
He kills FERDINAND.
Sink, thou main cause
Of my undoing! The last part of my life
Hath done me best service.
FERDINAND
Give me some wet hay; I am broken-winded.1
70 I do account this world but a dog-kennel.
I will vault credit,2 and affect3 high pleasures
Beyond death.
BOSOLA
He seems to come to himself,
Now he’s so near the bottom.
FERDINAND
My sister! Oh, my sister! There’s the cause on’t.
Whether we fall by ambition, blood or lust,
Like diamonds we are cut with our own dust. [He dies.]
CARDINAL [To BOSOLA]
Thou hast thy payment4 too.
BOSOLA
Yes, I hold my weary soul in my teeth;
’Tis ready to part from me. I do glory
That thou, which stood’st like a huge pyramid,
80 Begun upon a large and ample base,
Shalt end in a little point, a kind of nothing.
[Enter PESCARA, MALATESTE, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN.]
PESCARA
How now, my lord?
MALATESTE
O sad disaster!
80 How comes this?
BOSOLA
Revenge for the Duchess of Malfi, murdered
By th’Aragonian brethren; for Antonio,
Slain by this hand; for lustful Julia,
Poisoned by this man; and lastly, for myself,
That was an actor in the main of all,
Much ’gainst mine own good nature, yet i’th’ end
Neglected.
PESCARA
How now, my lord?
CARDINAL
90 Look to my brother.
He gave us these large wounds as we were struggling
Here i’th’ rushes.1 And now, I pray, let me
Be laid by and never thought of. [He dies.]
PESCARA
How fatally, it seems, he did withstand
His own rescue!
MALATESTE
Thou wretched thing of blood,
How came Antonio by his death?
BOSOLA
In a mist – I know not how.
Such a mistake as I have often seen
In a play. Oh, I am gone!
100 We are only like dead2 walls, or vaulted graves
That, ruined, yields no echo. Fare you well.
It may be pain, but no harm to me to die
In so good a quarrel. Oh, this gloomy world!
In what a shadow, or deep pit of darkness,
Doth womanish and fearful mankind live!
Let worthy minds ne’er stagger1 in distrust
To suffer death or shame for what is just.
Mine is another voyage. [He dies.]
PESCARA
The noble Delio, as I came to th’palace,
110 Told me of Antonio’s being here, and showed me
A pretty gentleman: his son and heir.
[Enter DELIO with ANTONIO’s eldest son.]
MALATESTE
Oh sir, you come too late.
DELIO
I heard so, and
Was armed for’t ere I came. Let us make noble use
Of this great ruin, and join all our force
To establish this young, hopeful gentleman
In’s mother’s right.2 These wretched eminent things
Leave no more fame behind ’em than should one
Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow;
As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts,
120 Both form and matter. I have ever thought
Nature doth nothing so great for great men,
As when she’s pleased to make them lords of truth.
Integrity of life is fame’s best friend,
Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end. Exeunt.
FINIS.