The Duchess of Malfi/Act I, scene ii

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Act I, scene ii

Action continues from previous scene
Enter ANTONIO, DELIO, FERDINAND, CASTRUCHIO, SILVIO


DELIO: The presence 'gins to fill: you promis'd 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: here comes the great Calabrian Duke.


FERDINAND: Who took the ring oftenest?


SILVIO: Antonio Bologna, my lord.


FERDINAND: Our sister Duchess' great master of her household:

Give him the jewel. When shall we leave this sportive action,

And fall to action indeed?


CASTRUCHIO: Methinks, my lord,

You should not desire to go to war in person.


FERDINAND: [aside] Now, for some gravity--why, my lord?


CASTRUCHIO: It is fitting a soldier arise to be a prince, but not necessary

A prince descend to be a captain.


FERDINAND: No?


CASTRUCHIO: 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 honor.


CASTRUCHIO: Believe my experience: that realm is never long in quiet,

Where the ruler is a soldier.


FERDINAND: Thou toldest me

Thy wife could not endure fighting.


CASTRUCHIO: True, my lord.


FERDINAND: And of a jest she broke of a captain

she met full of wounds: I have forgot it.


CASTRUCHIO: She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful fellow, to lie

Like the children of Ismael, all in tents.


FERDINAND: Why, there's a wit were able to undo

All the chirugeons o'th' city, for although

Gallants should quarrel, and had drawn their weapons,

And were ready to go to it, yet her persuasions would

Make them put up.


CASTRUCHIO: That she would, my lord.

How do you like my Spanish jennet?


RODERIGO: He is all fire.


FERDINAND: I am of Pliny's opinion, I think he was begot by the wind;

He runs as if he were ballasted with quicksilver.


SILVIO: True, my lord, he reels from the tilt often.


RODERIGO and GRISOLAN: Ha, ha, ha!


FERDINAND: Why do you laugh? methinks you that are courtiers

Should be my touchwood, take fire when I give fire;

That is, not laugh but when I laugh, were the subject never so witty.


CASTRUCHIO: 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.


CASTRUCHIO: He cannot speak, you know, but he makes faces:

My lady cannot abide him.


FERDINAND: No?


CASTRUCHIO: Nor endure to be in merry company; for she says

Too much laughing, and too much company, fills her

Too full of the wrinkle.


FERDINAND: I would then have a mathematical instrument

Made for her face, that she might not laugh out of compass. 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: Nobly, my lord: as out of the Grecian horse issued

Many famous princes, so out of brave horsemanship

Arise the first sparks of growing resolution, that raise

The mind to noble action.


FERDINAND: You have bespoke it worthily.


SILVIO: Your brother, the lord Cardinal, and sister Duchess.


Enter CARDINAL, DUCHESS, CARIOLA, and JULIA


CARDINAL: Are the galleys come about?


GRISOLAN: They are, my lord.


FERDINAND: Here's the Lord Silvio is come to take his leave.


DELIO: [aside 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: Some such flashes superficially hang on him, for form;

But observe his inward character: he is a melancholy

Churchman; the spring in his face is nothing but the

Engendering of toads; where he is jealous of any man,

He lays worse plots for him than ever was imposed on

Hercules, for he strews in his way flatterers, panders,

Intelligencers, 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.

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,

Rewards by hearsay.


DELIO: 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,

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.

But for their sister, the right noble duchess,

You never fix'd 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 vain-glory to talk much

Than your penance to hear her: whilst she speaks,

She throws upon a man so sweet a look,

That it were able to raise one to a galliard

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 practic'd in such noble virtue,

That sure her nights, nay more, her very sleeps,

Are more in heaven, than other ladies' shrifts.

Let all sweet ladies break their flattering glasses,

And dress themselves in her.


DELIO: Fie, Antonio,

You play the wire-drawer with her commendation.


ANTONIO: I'll case the picture up: only thus much,

All her particular worth, grows to this sum;

She stains 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.


Exit 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.


DUCHESS: Your knowledge of him

Commends him and prefers him.


FERDINAND: Call him hither.


Exit Attendant


We are now upon parting. Good Lord Silvio,

Do us commend to all our noble friends

At the leaguer.


SILVIO: Sir, I shall.


FERDINAND: You are for Milan?


SILVIO: I am.


DUCHESS: Bring the caroches: we'll bring you down to the haven.


Exit all but the CARDINAL and FERDINAND

CARDINAL: Be sure you entertain that Bosola

For your intelligence: I would not be seen in't;

And therefore many times I have slighted him,

When he did court our furtherance, as this morning.


FERDINAND: Antonio, the great master of her household,

Had been far fitter.


CARDINAL: You are deceiv'd in him:

His nature is too honest for such business.

He comes: I'll leave you


Exit CARDINAL, enter BOSOLA


BOSOLA: I was lur'd to you.


FERDINAND: My brother here, the Cardinal could never

Abide you.


BOSOLA: Never since he was in my debt.


FERDINAND: May be some oblique character in your face

Made him suspect you.


BOSOLA: 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

The physician's whore, because she cozens 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 deceiv'd:

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 next way to suspect you,

And prompts him to deceive you.


FERDINAND: There's gold.


BOSOLA: So,

What follows? never rain'd such showers as these

Without thunderbolts i' th' tail of them: whose throat must I cut?


FERDINAND: Your inclination to shed blood rides post

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.


BOSOLA: No, sir?


FERDINAND: Do not you ask the reason; but be satisfied

I say I would not.


BOSOLA: It seems you would create me

One of your familiars.


FERDINAND: Familiar? what's that?


BOSOLA: Why, a very quaint 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: Take your devils,

Which hell calls angels: these curs'd 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:

There is a place that I procur'd for you

This morning, the provisorship o'th'horse;

Have you heard on't?


BOSOLA: No.


FERDINAND: 'Tis yours: is't not worth thanks?


BOSOLA: I would have you curse yourself now, that your bounty

(Which makes men truly noble) e'er should make

Me a villain. O, 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.


FERDINAND: Be yourself;

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

May, like a politic dormouse--


BOSOLA: As I have seen some,

Feed in a lord's dish, 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: 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 DUCHESS, CARDINAL, and CARIOLA


CARDINAL: We are to part from you; and your own discretion

Must now be your director.


FERDINAND: 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, honor,

Sway your high blood.


FERDINAND: Marry! they are most luxurious,

Will wed twice.


CARDINAL: O, fie!


FERDINAND: Their livers are more spotted

Than Laban's sheep.


DUCHESS: Diamonds are of most value,

They say, that have past through most jewelers' 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 motion 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-dew that's deadly;

'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: yet, believ'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 eaves of night--


FERDINAND: Think't the best voyage

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: Fare you well.

Wisdom begins at the end: remember it.


Exit CARDINAL


DUCHESS: I think this speech between you both was studied,

It came so roundly off.


FERDINAND: You are my sister;

This was my father's poniard, do you see?

I'd be loath to see't look rusty, 'cause 'twas his.

I would have you to give o'er these chargeable revels,

A visor and a mask are whispering rooms

That were never built for goodness;-- fare ye well,

And beware that part, which like the lamprey,

Hath never a bone in't.


DUCHESS: Fie, sir!


FERDINAND: Nay,

I mean the tongue; variety of courtship;

What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale

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 footsteps; and even now,

Even in this hate, as men in some great battles,

By apprehending danger, have achiev'd

Almost impossible actions -- I have heard soldiers say so--

So I through frights and threatenings will assay

This dangerous venture. Let old wives report

I wink'd, and chose a husband. Cariola,

To thy known secrecy I have given up

More than my life--my fame.


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: Thy protestation

Is ingenious and hearty: I believe it.

Is Antonio come?


CARIOLA: He attends you.


DUCHESS: Good dear soul,

Leave me; but place thyself behind the arras,

Where thou may'st overhear us. Wish me good speed,

For I am going into a wilderness

Where I shall find no path, nor friendly clew,

To be my guide.


Exit CARIOLA, enter ANTONIO

I sent for you: sit down;

Take pen and ink, and write: are you ready?


ANTONIO: Yes.


DUCHESS: What did I say?


ANTONIO: That I should write somewhat.


DUCHESS: O, I remember.

After these triumphs and this large expense,

It's fit, like thrifty husbands, we inquire

What's laid up for tomorrow.


ANTONIO: So please your beauteous excellence.


DUCHESS: Beauteous? Indeed I thank you:

I look young for your sake;

You have ta'en my cares upon you.


ANTONIO: I'll fetch your grace

The particulars of your revenue and expense.


DUCHESS: O, you are

An upright treasurer; but you mistook:

For when I said I meant to make inquiry

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,

Than in deep groans, and terrible ghastly looks,

As if the gifts we parted with procur'd

That violent distraction?


ANTONIO: O, much better.


DUCHESS: If I had a husband now, this care were quit:

But I intend to make you overseer.

What good deed shall we first remember? say.


ANTONIO: Begin with that first good deed begun 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: In a couple.


DUCHESS: St. Winifred, 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 affect it?


ANTONIO: My banishment, feeding my melancholy,

Would often reason thus.


DUCHESS: Pray, let's hear it.


ANTONIO: Say a man never marry, nor have children,

What takes that from him? only the bare name

Of being a father, or the weak delight

To see the little wanton 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 blood-shot; use my ring to't,

They say 'tis very sovereign: '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 eye-sight.


ANTONIO: You have made me stark blind.


DUCHESS: How?


ANTONIO: There is a saucy and ambitious devil,

Is dancing in this circle.


DUCHESS: Remove him.


ANTONIO: How?


DUCHESS: There needs small conjuration, when your finger

May do it, thus; is it fit?


He kneels


ANTONIO: What said you?


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.


ANTONIO: Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness,

That is not kept in chains, and close-pent rooms,

But in fair lightsome lodgings, and is girt

With the wild noise of prattling visitants,

Which makes it lunatic beyond all cure.

Conceive not I am so stupid but I aim

Whereto your favors 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: O, my unworthiness!


DUCHESS: You were ill to sell yourself:

This darkening of your worth is not like that

Which tradesmen use i'th' city; their false lights

Are to rid bad wares off; and I must tell you,

If you will know where breathes a complete man,

(I speak it without flattery,) turn your eyes,

And progress through yourself.


ANTONIO: Were there nor heaven nor hell,

I should be honest: I have long serv'd virtue,

And ne'er ta'en wages of her.


DUCHESS: Now she pays it.

The misery of us that are born great!

We are forc'd to woo, because none dare woo us;

And as a tyrant doubles with his words,

And fearfully equivocates, so we

Are forc'd to express our violent passions

In riddles, and in dreams, and leave the path

Of simple virtue, which was never made

To seem the thing it is not. Go, go brag

You have left me heartless; mine is in your bosom:

I hope 'twill multiply love there. You do tremble:

Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh,

To fear, more than to love me. Sir, be confident:

What is't distracts you? This is flesh and blood, sir;

'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster,

Kneels at my husbands tomb. Awake, awake, man!

I do here put off all vain ceremony,

And only do appear to you a young widow

That claims you for her husband, and like a widow,

I use but half a blush in't.


ANTONIO: Truth speak for me:

I will remain the constant sanctuary

Of your good name.


DUCHESS: I thank you, gentle love:

And 'cause you shall not come to me in debt,

Being now my steward, here upon your lips

I sign your Quietus est. This you should have begg'd now;

I have seen children oft eat sweetmeats thus,

As fearful to devour them too soon.


ANTONIO: But for your brothers?


DUCHESS: Do not think of them:

All discord without this circumference

Is only to be pitied, and not fear'd:

Yet, should they know it, time will easily

Scatter the tempest.


ANTONIO: These words should be mine,

And all the parts you have spoke, if some part of it

Would not have savour'd flattery.


DUCHESS: Kneel.


Enter CARIOLA


ANTONIO: Ha!


DUCHESS: Be not amaz'd, this woman's of my counsel:

I have heard lawyers say, a contract in a chamber

Per verba presenti is absolute marriage.

Bless, heaven, this sacred gordian, which let violence

Never untwine!


ANTONIO: And may our sweet affections, like the spheres,

Be still in motion.


DUCHESS: Quickening, and make

The like soft music.


ANTONIO: That we may imitate the loving palms,

Best emblem of a peaceful marriage

That never bore fruit divided.


DUCHESS: What can the church force more?


ANTONIO: That fortune may not know an accident

Either of joy, or sorrow, to divide

Our fixed wishes.


DUCHESS: How can the church build faster?

We now are man and wife, and 'tis the church

That must but echo this. Maid, stand apart:

I now am blind.


ANTONIO: What's your conceit in this?


DUCHESS: I would have you lead your fortune by the hand

Unto your marriage bed:

(You speak in me this, for we now are one:)

We'll only lie, and talk together, and plot

T'appease my humourous kindred; and if you please,

Like the old tale in Alexander and Lodowick,

Lay a naked sword between us, keep us chaste.

O, let me shroud my blushes in your bosom,

Since 'tis the treasury of all my secrets!


They exit


CARIOLA: Whether the spirit of greatness, or of woman

Reign most in her, I know not; but it shows

A fearful madness: I owe her much of pity.


Exit