Scene
III
Malfi. Gallery in the Duchess’ palace.
Enter Ferdinand, 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, honour,
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 pass’d 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 motion lasts no longer
Than the turning of an hourglass: the funeral sermon
And it end both together.
Ferdinand
Now hear me:
You live in a rank pasture, here, i’ the court;
There is a kind of honeydew that’s deadly;
’T will 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, 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 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 fore-run man’s mischief.
Cardinal
Fare you well.
Wisdom begins at the end: remember it.
Exit.
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 loth to see’t look rusty, ’cause ’twas his.
I would have you give o’er these chargeable revels:
A visor and a mask are whispering-rooms
That were never built for goodness—fare ye well—
And women like variety of courtship.
What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale
Make a woman believe? Farewell, lusty widow.
Exit.
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 mayst overhear us. Wish me good speed;
For I am going into a wilderness,
Where I shall find nor path nor friendly clue
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
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 began i’ the 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
Saint Winifred, that were a strange will!
Antonio
’Twere stranger 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 bloodshot; 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 eyesight.
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?
She puts the ring upon his finger: 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. Raises him.
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 favours tend: but he’s a fool
That, being a-cold, would thrust his hands i’ the fire
To warm them.
Duchess
So, now the ground’s broke,
You may discover what a wealthy mine
I make your lord of.
Antonio
O my unworthiness!
Duchess
You were ill to sell yourself:
This dark’ning of your worth is not like that
Which tradesmen use i’ the 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 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.
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.
Cariola comes from behind the arras.
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 [de] presenti is absolute marriage.
She and Antonio kneel.
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
To appease my humorous 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 shrowd my blushes in your bosom,
Since ’tis the treasury of all my secrets!
Exeunt Duchess and Antonio.
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.