ActII

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Act

II

Scene

I

Malfi. An apartment in the palace of the Duchess.

Enter Bosala and Castruccio.

Bosola

You say you would fain be taken for an eminent courtier?

Castruccio

’Tis the very main of my ambition.

Bosola

Let me see: you have a reasonable good face for’t already, and your nightcap expresses your ears sufficient largely. I 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 president in criminal causes, if you smile upon a prisoner, 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 o’ nights; ’twill beget you an admirable wit.

Castruccio

Rather it would make me have a good stomach to quarrel; for they say, your roaring boys 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 for one of the prime nightcaps.

Enter an Old Lady.

You come from painting 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 sloughs the last progress. 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

Do you call this painting?

Bosola

No, no, but you call [it] careening of an old morphewed lady, to make her disembogue again: there’s roughcast phrase to your plastic.

Old Lady

It seems you are well acquainted with my closet.

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, than kiss one of you fasting. Here are two of you, whose sin of your youth is the very patrimony of the physician; makes him renew his foot-cloth with the spring, and change his high-pric’d 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 belov’d? 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:

Man stands amaz’d 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 wolf and swinish measle⁠—

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: all our fear,

Nay, all our terror, is, lest our physician

Should put us in the ground to be made sweet.⁠—

Your wife’s gone to Rome: you two couple, and get you to the wells at Lucca to recover your aches. I have other work on foot.

Exeunt Castruccio and Old Lady.

I observe our duchess

Is sick a-days, she pukes, her stomach seethes,

The fins of her eyelids look most teeming blue,

She wanes i’ the cheek, and waxes fat i’ the flank,

And, contrary to our Italian fashion,

Wears a loose-bodied gown: there’s somewhat in’t.

I have a trick may chance discover it,

A pretty one; I have bought some apricocks,

The first our spring yields.

Enter Antonio and Delio, talking together 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.⁠—Now, sir, in your contemplation?

You are studying to become a great wise fellow.

Bosola

O, sir, the opinion of wisdom is a foul tetter that runs all over a man’s body: if simplicity direct us to have no evil, it 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

Puff’d 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 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

O, sir, you are lord of the ascendant, chief man with the duchess: a duke was your cousin-german remov’d. Say you were lineally descended from King Pepin, 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 think the souls of princes were brought forth by some more weighty cause than those of meaner persons: they are deceiv’d, 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 Ladies.

Duchess

Your arm, Antonio: 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

The duchess us’d one when she was great with child.

Duchess

I think she did.⁠—Come hither, mend my ruff:

Here, when? thou art such a tedious lady; and

Thy breath smells of lemon-pills: would thou hadst done!

Shall I swoon under thy fingers? I am

So troubled with the mother!

Bosola

Aside. I fear too much.

Duchess

I have heard you say that the French courtiers

Wear their hats on ’fore that king.

Antonio

I have seen it.

Duchess

In the presence?

Antonio

Yes.

Duchess

Why should not we bring up that fashion?

’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 show’d reverently.

Bosola

I have a present for your grace.

Duchess

For me, sir?

Bosola

Apricocks, madam.

Duchess

O, sir, where are they?

I have heard of none to-year

Bosola

Aside. Good; her colour rises.

Duchess

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 par’d ’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

O, you jest.⁠—

You shall judge: pray, taste one.

Antonio

Indeed, madam,

I do not love the fruit.

Duchess

Sir, you are loth

To rob us of our dainties. ’Tis a delicate fruit;

They say they are restorative.

Bosola

’Tis a pretty art,

This grafting.

Duchess

’Tis so; a bettering 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!

For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown,

I should have discover’d apparently

The young springal cutting a caper in her belly.

Duchess

I thank you, Bosola: they were right good ones,

If they do not make me sick.

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 swell’d already.

Duchess

O, I am in an extreme cold sweat!

Bosola

I am very sorry.

Exit.

Duchess

Lights to my chamber!⁠—O good Antonio,

I fear I am undone!

Delio

Lights there, lights!

Exeunt Duchess and Ladies.

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

Have you prepar’d

Those ladies to attend her; and procur’d

That politic safe conveyance for the midwife

Your duchess plotted?

Antonio

I have.

Delio

Make use, then, of this forc’d occasion.

Give out that Bosola hath poison’d her

With these apricocks; 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 prepar’d antidote of her own,

Lest the physicians should re-poison her.

Antonio

I am lost in amazement: I know not what to think on’t.

Exeunt.

Scene

II

A hall in the same palace.

Enter Bosala and Old Lady.

Bosola

So, so, there’s no question but her techiness and most vulturous eating of the apricocks are apparent signs of breeding, now?

Old Lady

I am in haste, sir.

Bosola

There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desire to see the glasshouse⁠—

Old Lady

Nay, pray, let me go. I will hear no more of the glasshouse. You are still abusing women!

Bosola

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 entertainment 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 Danaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thou never study the mathematics?

Old Lady

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, Roderigo, and Grisolan.

Antonio

Shut up the court-gates.

Roderigo

Why, sir? What’s the danger?

Antonio

Shut up the posterns presently, and call

All the officers o’ th’ court.

Grisolan

I shall instantly.

Exit.

Antonio

Who keeps the key o’ th’ park-gate?

Roderigo

Forobosco.

Antonio

Let him bring’t presently.

Reenter Grisolan with Servants.

First Servant

O, gentleman o’ th’ court, the foulest treason!

Bosola

Aside. If that these apricocks should be poison’d now, Without my knowledge?

First Servant

There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess’ bedchamber⁠—

Second Servant

A Switzer!

First Servant

With a pistol⁠—

Second Servant

There was a cunning traitor!

First Servant

And all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets.

Second Servant

O wicked cannibal!

First Servant

’Twas a French plot, upon my life.

Second Servant

To see what the devil can do!

Antonio

Are all the officers here?

Servants

We are.

Antonio

Gentlemen,

We have lost much plate, you know; and but this evening

Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats,

Are missing in the duchess’ cabinet.

Are the gates shut?

Servant

Yes.

Antonio

’Tis the duchess’ pleasure

Each officer be lock’d 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 approv’d by it.

Bosola

Gentlemen o’ the wood-yard, where’s your Switzer now?

First Servant

By this hand, ’twas credibly reported by one o’ the black guard.

Exeunt all except Antonio and Delio.

Delio

How fares it with the duchess?

Antonio

She’s expos’d

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

O, ’tis far from me: and yet fear presents me

Somewhat that looks like danger.

Delio

Believe it,

’Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more:

How superstitiously we mind our evils!

The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare,

Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,

Or singing of a cricket, are of power

To daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well:

I wish you all the joys of a bless’d father;

And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast⁠—

Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.

Exit.

Enter Cariola.

Cariola

Sir, you are the happy father of a son:

Your wife commends him to you.

Antonio

Blessed comfort!⁠—

For heaven’ sake, tend her well: I’ll presently

Go set a figure for’s nativity.

Exeunt.

Scene

III

The court of the same palace.

Enter Bosala, with a dark lantern.

Bosola

Sure I did hear a woman shriek: list, ha!

And the sound came, if I receiv’d it right,

From the duchess’ 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.⁠—Ha! Antonio!

Enter Antonio with a candle, his sword drawn.

Antonio

I heard some noise.⁠—Who’s there? What art thou? Speak.

Bosola

Antonio, put not your face nor body

To such a forc’d expression of fear;

I am Bosola, your friend.

Antonio

Bosola!⁠—

Aside. This mole does undermine me.⁠—Heard you not

A noise even now?

Bosola

From whence?

Antonio

From the duchess’ lodging.

Bosola

Not I: did you?

Antonio

I did, or else I dream’d.

Bosola

Let’s walk towards it.

Antonio

No: it may be ’twas

But the rising of the wind.

Bosola

Very likely.

Methinks ’tis very cold, and yet you sweat:

You look wildly.

Antonio

I have been setting a figure

For the duchess’ jewels.

Bosola

Ah, and how falls your question?

Do you find it radical?

Antonio

What’s that to you?

’Tis rather to be question’d what design,

When all men were commanded to their lodgings,

Makes you a nightwalker.

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.⁠—

You gave the duchess apricocks today:

Pray heaven they were not poison’d!

Bosola

Poison’d! a Spanish fig

For the imputation!

Antonio

Traitors are ever confident

Till they are discover’d. There were jewels stol’n too:

In my conceit, none are to be suspected

More than yourself.

Bosola

You are a false steward.

Antonio

Saucy slave, I’ll pull thee up by the roots.

Bosola

May be the ruin will crush you to pieces.

Antonio

You are an impudent snake indeed, sir:

Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?

You libel well, sir?

Bosola

No, sir: copy it out,

And I will set my hand to’t.

Antonio

Aside. My nose bleeds.

One that were superstitious would count

This ominous, when it merely comes by chance.

Two letters, that are wrought here for my name,

Are drown’d in blood!

Mere accident.⁠—For you, sir, I’ll take order

I’ the morn you shall be safe.⁠—Aside. ’Tis that must colour

Her lying-in.⁠—Sir, this door you pass not:

I do not hold it fit that you come near

The duchess’ 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.⁠—O, here it is.

What’s here? a child’s nativity calculated!

Reads. “The duchess was deliver’d of a son, ’tween the hours twelve and one in the night, Anno Dom. 1504,”⁠—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 combust in the ascendant, signifies short life; and Mars being in a human sign, joined to the tail of the Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a violent death. Caetera non scrutantur.”

Why, now ’tis most apparent; this precise fellow

Is the duchess’ bawd:⁠—I have it to my wish!

This is a parcel of intelligency

Our courtiers were cas’d 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 thrifty way!

Though lust do mask in ne’er so strange disguise,

She’s oft found witty, but is never wise.

Exit.

Scene

IV

Rome. An apartment in the palace of the Cardinal.

Enter Cardinal and Julia.

Cardinal

Sit: thou art my best of wishes. Prithee, tell me

What trick didst thou invent to come to Rome

Without thy husband?

Julia

Why, my lord, I told him

I came to visit an old anchorite

Here for devotion.

Cardinal

Thou art a witty false one⁠—

I mean, to him.

Julia

You have prevail’d with me

Beyond my strongest thoughts; I would not now

Find you inconstant.

Cardinal

Do not put thyself

To such a voluntary torture, which proceeds

Out of your own guilt.

Julia

How, my lord!

Cardinal

You fear

My constancy, because you have approv’d

Those giddy and wild turnings in yourself.

Julia

Did you e’er find them?

Cardinal

Sooth, generally for women,

A man might strive to make glass malleable,

Ere he should make them fixed.

Julia

So, my lord.

Cardinal

We had need go borrow that fantastic glass

Invented by Galileo the Florentine

To view another spacious world i’ th’ moon,

And look to find a constant woman there.

Julia

This is very well, my lord.

Cardinal

Why do you weep?

Are tears your justification? The selfsame tears

Will fall into your husband’s bosom, lady,

With a loud protestation that you love him

Above the world. Come, I’ll love you wisely,

That’s jealously; since I am very certain

You cannot make me cuckold.

Julia

I’ll go home

To my husband.

Cardinal

You may thank me, lady,

I have taken you off your melancholy perch,

Bore you upon my fist, and show’d you game,

And let you fly at it.⁠—I pray thee, kiss me.⁠—

When thou wast with thy husband, thou wast watch’d

Like a tame elephant:⁠—still you are to thank me:⁠—

Thou hadst only kisses from him and high feeding;

But what delight was that? ’Twas just like one

That hath a little fing’ring on the lute,

Yet cannot tune it:⁠—still you are to thank me.

Julia

You told me of a piteous wound i’ th’ heart,

And a sick liver, when you woo’d me first,

And spake like one in physic.

Cardinal

Who’s that?⁠—

Enter Servant.

Rest firm, for my affection to thee,

Lightning moves slow to’t.

Servant

Madam, a gentleman,

That’s come post from Malfi, desires to see you.

Cardinal

Let him enter: I’ll withdraw.

Exit.

Servant

He says

Your husband, old Castruccio, is come to Rome,

Most pitifully tir’d with riding post.

Exit.

Enter Delio.

Julia

Aside. Signior Delio! ’tis one of my old suitors.

Delio

I was bold to come and see you.

Julia

Sir, you are welcome.

Delio

Do you lie here?

Julia

Sure, your own experience

Will satisfy you no: our Roman prelates

Do not keep lodging for ladies.

Delio

Very well:

I have brought you no commendations from your husband,

For I know none by him.

Julia

I hear he’s come to Rome.

Delio

I never knew man and beast, of a horse and a knight,

So weary of each other. If he had had a good back,

He would have undertook to have borne his horse,

His breech was so pitifully sore.

Julia

Your laughter

Is my pity.

Delio

Lady, I know not whether

You want money, but I have brought you some.

Julia

From my husband?

Delio

No, from mine own allowance.

Julia

I must hear the condition, ere I be bound to take it.

Delio

Look on’t, ’tis gold; hath it not a fine colour?

Julia

I have a bird more beautiful.

Delio

Try the sound on’t.

Julia

A lute-string far exceeds it.

It hath no smell, like cassia or civet;

Nor is it physical, though some fond doctors

Persuade us seethe’t in cullises. I’ll tell you,

This is a creature bred by⁠—

Reenter Servant.

Servant

Your husband’s come,

Hath deliver’d a letter to the Duke of Calabria

That, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits.

Exit.

Julia

Sir, you hear:

Pray, let me know your business and your suit

As briefly as can be.

Delio

With good speed: I would wish you,

At such time as you are nonresident

With your husband, my mistress.

Julia

Sir, I’ll go ask my husband if I shall,

And straight return your answer.

Exit.

Delio

Very fine!

Is this her wit, or honesty, that speaks thus?

I heard one say the duke was highly mov’d

With a letter sent from Malfi. I do fear

Antonio is betray’d. How fearfully

Shows his ambition now! Unfortunate fortune!

They pass through whirlpools, and deep woes do shun,

Who the event weigh ere the action’s done.

Exit.

Scene

V

Another apartment in the same palace.

Enter Cardinal and Ferdinand with a letter.

Ferdinand

I have this night digg’d up a mandrake.

Cardinal

Say you?

Ferdinand

And I am grown mad with’t.

Cardinal

What’s the prodigy?

Ferdinand

Read there⁠—a sister damn’d: she’s loose i’ the hilts;

Grown a notorious strumpet.

Cardinal

Speak lower.

Ferdinand

Lower!

Rogues do not whisper’t now, but seek to publish’t

(As servants do the bounty of their lords)

Aloud; and with a covetous searching eye,

To mark who note them. O, confusion seize her!

She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her turn,

And more secure conveyances for lust

Than towns of garrison for service.

Cardinal

Is’t possible?

Can this be certain?

Ferdinand

Rhubarb, O, for rhubarb

To purge this choler! Here’s the cursed day

To prompt my memory; and here’t shall stick

Till of her bleeding heart I make a sponge

To wipe it out.

Cardinal

Why do you make yourself

So wild a tempest?

Ferdinand

Would I could be one,

That I might toss her palace ’bout her ears,

Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads,

And lay her general territory as waste

As she hath done her honours.

Cardinal

Shall our blood,

The royal blood of Arragon and Castile,

Be thus attainted?

Ferdinand

Apply desperate physic:

We must not now use balsamum, but fire,

The smarting cupping-glass, for that’s the mean

To purge infected blood, such blood as hers.

There is a kind of pity in mine eye⁠—

I’ll give it to my handkercher; and now ’tis here,

I’ll bequeath this to her bastard.

Cardinal

What to do?

Ferdinand

Why, to make soft lint for his mother’s wounds,

When I have hew’d her to pieces.

Cardinal

Curs’d creature!

Unequal nature, to place women’s hearts

So far upon the left side!

Ferdinand

Foolish men,

That e’er will trust their honour in a bark

Made of so slight weak bulrush as is woman,

Apt every minute to sink it!

Cardinal

Thus ignorance, when it hath purchas’d honour,

It cannot wield it.

Ferdinand

Methinks I see her laughing⁠—

Excellent hyena! Talk to me somewhat quickly,

Or my imagination will carry me

To see her in the shameful act of sin.

Cardinal

With whom?

Ferdinand

Happily with some strong-thigh’d bargeman,

Or one o’ th’ wood-yard that can quoit the sledge

Or toss the bar, or else some lovely squire

That carries coals up to her privy lodgings.

Cardinal

You fly beyond your reason.

Ferdinand

Go to, mistress!

’Tis not your whore’s milk that shall quench my wildfire,

But your whore’s blood.

Cardinal

How idly shows this rage, which carries you,

As men convey’d by witches through the air,

On violent whirlwinds! This intemperate noise

Fitly resembles deaf men’s shrill discourse,

Who talk aloud, thinking all other men

To have their imperfection.

Ferdinand

Have not you

My palsy?

Cardinal

Yes, [but] I can be angry

Without this rupture. There is not in nature

A thing that makes man so deform’d, so beastly,

As doth intemperate anger. Chide yourself.

You have divers men who never yet express’d

Their strong desire of rest but by unrest,

By vexing of themselves. Come, put yourself

In tune.

Ferdinand

So I will only study to seem

The thing I am not. I could kill her now,

In you, or in myself; for I do think

It is some sin in us heaven doth revenge

By her.

Cardinal

Are you stark mad?

Ferdinand

I would have their bodies

Burnt in a coal-pit with the ventage stopp’d,

That their curs’d smoke might not ascend to heaven;

Or dip the sheets they lie in in pitch or sulphur,

Wrap them in’t, and then light them like a match;

Or else to-boil their bastard to a cullis,

And give’t his lecherous father to renew

The sin of his back.

Cardinal

I’ll leave you.

Ferdinand

Nay, I have done.

I am confident, had I been damn’d in hell,

And should have heard of this, it would have put me

Into a cold sweat. In, in; I’ll go sleep.

Till I know who [loves] my sister, I’ll not stir:

That known, I’ll find scorpions to string my whips,

And fix her in a general eclipse.

Exeunt.