Antonio’s house
Enter the discontented Lord Antonio, whose wife the Duchess’ youngest son ravish’d, he discovering the body of her dead to [Piero and other] certain Lords and Hippolito.
ANTONIO
Draw nearer, lords, and be sad witnesses
Of a fair, comely building newly fall’n,
Being falsely undermined: violent rape
Has play’d a glorious act. Behold, my lords,
A sight that strikes man out of me.
PIERO
That virtuous lady?
ANTONIO
President for wives!
HIPPOLITO
The blush of many women, whose chaste presence
Would e’en call shame up to their cheeks,
And make pale wanton sinners have good colours —
ANTONIO
Dead!
Her honour first drunk poison, and her life,
Being fellows in one house, did pledge her honour.
PIERO
Oh, grief of many!
ANTONIO
I mark’d not this before.
A prayer book the pillow to her cheek,
This was her rich confection, and another
Plac’d in her right hand, with a leaf tuck’d up,
Pointing to these words:
“Melius virtute mori, quam per dedecus vivere.”
True and effectual it is indeed.
HIPPOLITO
My lord, since you invite us to your sorrows,
Let’s truly taste ‘em, that with equal comfort
As to ourselves we may relieve your wrongs;
We have grief too that yet walks without tongue:
Curae leves loquuntur, majores stupent.
ANTONIO
You deal with truth, my lord.
Lend me but your attentions, and I’ll cut
Long grief into short words: last revelling night,
When torch-light made an artificial noon
About the court, some courtiers in the masque,
Putting on better faces than their own,
Being full of fraud and flattery, amongst whom
The duchess’ youngest son, that moth to honour,
Fill’d up a room, and with long lust to eat
Into my wearing, amongst all the ladies,
Singled out that dear form, who ever liv’d
As cold in lust as she is now in death,
Which that step-duchess’ monster knew too well;
And therefore in the height of all the revels,
When music was hard loudest, courtiers busiest,
And ladies great with laughter. Oh, vicious minute!
Unfit but for relation to be spoke of!
Then with a face more impudent than his vizard,
He harried her amidst a throng of panders,
That live upon damnation of both kinds,
And fed the ravenous vulture of his lust!
Oh, death to think on’t! She, her honour forc’d,
Deem’d it a nobler dowry for her name
To die with poison than to live with shame.
HIPPOLITO
A wondrous lady; of rare fire compact:
Sh’as made her name an empress by that act.
PIERO
My lord, what judgment follows the offender?
ANTONIO
Faith, none, my lord: it cools and is deferr’d.
PIERO
Delay the doom for rape?
ANTONIO
Oh, you must note who ’tis should die:
The Duchess’ son; she’ll look to be a saver.
“Judgment in this age is ne’er kin to favour.”
HIPPOLITO
[Drawing his sword] Nay, then step forth, thou bribeless officer.
I bind you all in steel to bind you surely:
Here let your oaths meet to be kept and paid,
Which else will stick like rust and shame the blade.
Strengthen my vow, that if at the next sitting
Judgment speak all in gold, and spare the blood
Of such a serpent, e’en before their seats,
To let his soul out, which long since was found
Guilty in heaven.
ALL [LORDS]
We swear it and will act it.
ANTONIO
Kind gentlemen, I thank you in mine ire.
HIPPOLITO
‘Twere pity
The ruins of so fair a monument
Should not be dipp’d in the defacer’s blood.
PIERO
Her funeral shall be wealthy, for her name
Merits a tomb of pearl. My Lord Antonio,
For this time wipe your lady from your eyes;
No doubt our grief and yours may one day court it,
When we are more familiar with revenge.
ANTONIO
That is my comfort, gentlemen, and I joy
In this one happiness above the rest,
Which will be call’d a miracle at last,
That being an old man I’d a wife so chaste.
Exeunt.