# The Tragedy of the Dutchesse of Malfy/Act III, scene ii

SCENA II.
Dutchess, Antonio, Cariola, Ferdinand, Bosola, Officers.
Dutch. Bring me the Casket hither, and the Glasse; You get no lodging here, to night (my Lord.)
Ant. Indeed, I must perswade one:
Duch. Very good: I hope in time 'twill grow into a custome, That Noble men shall come with cap, and knee, To purchase a nights lodging, of their wives.
Ant. I must lye here.
Dutch. Must? you are a Lord of Misse-rule.
Ant. Indeed, my Rule is onely in the night.
Dutch. To what use will you put me,
Ant. Wee'll sleepe together:
Dutch. Alas, what pleasure can two Lovers find in sleepe?
Car. My Lord, I lye with her often: and I know
She'll much disquiet you:
Ant. See, you are complain'd of.
Car. For she's the sprawlingst bedfellow.
Ant. I shall like her the better for that.
Car. Sir, shall I aske you a question?
Ant. I pray thee Cariola.
Car. Wherefore still when you lie with my Lady Doe you rise so early?
Ant. Labouring men, Count the Clocke oftnest Cariola, Are glad when their task's ended.
Duch. I'll stop your mouth.
Ant. Nay, that's but one, Venus had two soft Doves To draw her Chariot: I must have another: When wilt thou marry, Cariola?
Car. Never (my Lord.)
Ant. O fie upon this single life: forgoe it: We read how Daphne, for her peevish slight Became a fruitlesse Bay-tree: Siriux turn'd To the pale empty Reede: Anaxarate Was frozen into Marble: whereas those Which married, or prov'd kind unto their friends Were, by a gracious influence, transhap'd Into the Oliffe, Pomgranet, Mulbery: Became Flowres, precious Stones, or eminent Starres.
Car. This is a vaine Poetry: but I pray you tell me, If there were propos'd me, Wisdome, Riches, and Beauty, In three severall young men, which should I choose?
Ant. 'Tis a hard question: This was Paris case And he was blind in't, and there was great cause: For how was't possible he could judge right, Having three amorous Goddesses in view, And they starcke naked: 'twas a Motion Were able to be-night the apprehention Of the seveerest Counsellor of Europe. Now I looke on both your faces, so well form'd It puts me in mind of a question, I would aske.
Car.
What is't?
Ant. I doe wonder why hard-favour'd Ladies For the most part, keepe worse-favour'd waieting women, To attend them, and cannot endure faire-ones.
Duch. Oh, that's soone answer'd. Did you ever in your life know an ill Painter Desire to have his dwelling next doore to the shop Of an excellent Picture-maker? 'twould disgrace His face-making, and undoe him: I pre-thee When were we so merry? my haire tangles.
Ant. 'Pray-thee (Cariola) let's steale forth the roome, And let her talke to her selfe: I have divers times Serv'd her the like, when she hath chafde extreamely: I love to see her angry: softly Cariola. Exeunt.
Duch. Doth not the colour of my haire 'gin to change? When I waxe gray, I shall have all the Court Powder their haire, with Arras, to be like me: You have cause to love me, I entred you into my heart Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keyes. We shall one day have my brothers take you napping: Me thinkes his Presence (being now in Court) Should make you keepe your owne Bed: but you'll say Love mixt with feare, is sweetest: I'll assure you You shall get no more children till my brothers Consent to be your Ghossips: have you lost your tongue? 'tis welcome: For know whether I am doomb'd to live, or die, I can doe both like a Prince. Ferdinand gives her a ponyard.
Ferd. Die then, quickle: Vertue, where art thou hid? what hideous thing Is it, that doth ecclipze thee?
Duch. 'Pray sir heare me:
Ferd. Or is it true, thou art but a bare name, And no essentiall thing?
Duch. Sir:
Ferd. Doe not speake.
Duch. No sir: I will plant my soule in mine cares, to heare you.
Ferd. Oh most imperfect light of humaine reason, That mak'st so unhappy, to fore see What we can least prevent: Pursue thy wishes: And glory in them: there's in shame no comfort, But to be past all bounds, and sence of shame.
Duch. I pray sir, heare me: I am married,
Ferd. So:
Duch. Happily, not to your liking: but for that Alas: your sheeres doe come untimely now To clip the birds wings, that's already flowne: Will you see my Husband?
Ferd. Yes, if I Could change eyes with a Basilisque:
Duch. Sure, you came hither By his confideracy.
Ferd. The howling of a Wolfe Is musicke to the (schrech-Owle) pre'thee peace: What ere thou art, that hast enjoy'd my sister, (For I am sure thou hearst me) for thine owne sake Let me not know thee: I came hither, prepar'd To worke thy discovery: yet am now perswaded It would beget such violent effects As would dampe vs both: I would not for ten Millions I had beheld thee: therefore use all meanes I never may have knowledge of thy name; Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life, On that condition: And for thee (vilde woman,) If thou doe wish thy Leacher may grow old In thy Embracements, I would have thee build Such a roome for him, as our Anchorites To holier use enhabite: Let not the Sunne Shine on him, till he's dead: Let Dogs, and Monkeys Onely converse with him, and such dombe things To whom Nature denies use, to sound his name. Doe not keepe a Paraqueto, least she learne it; If thou doe love him, cut out thine owne tongue Least it bewray him.
Duch. Why might not I marry? I have not gone about, in this, to create Any new world, or custome.
Ferd. Thou art undone: And thou hast ta'ne that massiy sheete of lead That hid thy husbands bones, and foulded it About my heart.
Dutch. Mine bleedes for't.
Ford. Thine? thy heart? What should I nam't, unlesse a hollow bullet Fill'd with unquenchable wild-fire?
Dutch. You are, in this Too strict: and were you not my Princely brother I would say to wilfull: My reputation Is safe.
Ferd. Dost thou know what reputation is I'll tell thee, to small purpose, since th'instruction Comes now too late: Upon a time Reputation, Love, and Death, Would travell ore the world: and it was concluded That they should part, and take three severall wayes: Death told them, they should find him in great Battailes: Or Cities plagu'd with plagues: Love gives them councell To enquire for him 'mongst unambitious shepheards, Where dowries were not talk'd of: and sometimes 'Mongst quiet kindred, that had nothing left By their dead Parents: stay (quoth Reputation) Doe not forsake me: for it is my nature If once I part from any man I meete I am never found againe: And so, for you: You have shooked hands with Reputation, And made him invisible: So fare you well. I will never see you more.
Dutch. Why should onely I, Of all the other Princes of the World Be cas'de-up, like a holy Relique? I have youth, And a litle beautie.
Ferd.
So you have some Virgins, That are Witches: I will never see thee more. Exit.
Dutch.
You saw this apparition.
Enter Antonio with a Pistoll.
Ant. Yes: we are Betraid; how came he hither? I should turne This, to thee, for that.
Car. Pray sir doe: and when That you have cleft my heart, you shall read there, Mine innocence:
Dutch. That Gallery gave him entrance.
Ant. I would this terrible thing would come againe, That (standing on my Guard) I might relate My warrantable love: ha, what meanes this?
Dutch. He left this with me: she shewes the poniard.
Ant. And it seemes, did wish You would use it on your selfe?
Dutch. His Action Seem'd to intend so much.
Ant. This hath a handle to't, As well as a point, turne it towards him,
And so fasten the keene edge, in his rancke gall: How now? who knocks? more Earthquakes?
Dutch.
I stand As if a Myne, beneath my feete, were ready To be blowne up.
Car.
'Tis Bosola:
Dutch.
Away, Oh misery, me thinkes unjust actions Should weare these masques, and curtaines; and not we: You must instantly part hence: I have fashion'd it already. Ex. Ant.
Bos.
The Duke your brother is ta'ne up in a whirlewind Hath tooke horse, and's rid poast to Rome.
Dutch.
So late?
Bos. He told me, (as he mounted into th'sadle,) You were undone.
Dutch.
Indeed, I am very neere it.
Bos. What's the matter?
Dutch. Antonio, the master of our house-hold Hath dealt so falsely with me, in's accounts: My brother stood engag'd with me for money Ta'ne up of certaine Neopolitane Jewes, And Antonio let's the Bonds be forfeyt.
Bos. Srange: this is cunning:
Dutch. And hereupon My brothers Bills at Naples are protested Against: call up our Officers.
Bos. I shall. Exit.
Dutch. The place that you must flye to, is Ancona, Hire a house there. I'll send after you My Treasure, and my Jewlls: our weake safetie Runnes upon engenous wheeles: short sillables, Must stand for periods: I must now accuse you Of such a fained crime, as Tasso calls Magnanima Mensogna: a Noble Lie, 'Cause it must shield our honors: harke they are comming.
Ant. Will your Grace heare me?
Dutch. I have got well by you: you have yeelded me A million of losse; I am like to inherit The peoples curses for your Stewardship: You had the tricke, in Audit time to be sicke, Till I had sign'd your Quietus; and that cur'de you Without helpe of a Doctor. Gentlemen, I would have this man be an example to you all: So shall you hold my favour: I pray let him; For h'as done that (alas) you would not thinke of, And (because I intend to be rid of him) I meane not to publish: use your fortune else-where.
Ant. I am strongely arm'd to brooke my over-throw, As commonly men beare with a hard yeere: I will not blame the cause on't; but doe thinke The necessitie of my malevolent starre Procures this, not her humour: O the inconstant, And rotten ground of service, you may see: 'Tis ev'n like him, that in a winter night
Takes a long slumber, ore a dying fire; A-loth to part from't: yet parts thence as cold, As when he first sat downe.
Dutch. We doe confiscate (Towards the satisfying of your accounts) All that you have.
Ant. I am all yours: and 'tis very fit All mine should be so.
Dutch. So, sir; you have your Passe.
Ant. You may see (Gentlemen) what 'tis to serve A Prince with body, and soule. Exit.
Bos. Heere's an example, for extortion; what moysture, is drawne out of the Sea, when fowle weather comes, powres downe, and runnes into the Sea againe.
Dutch. I would know what are your opinions Of this Antonio.
2.Offi. He could not abide to see a Pigges head gaping, I thought your Grace would finde him a Jew:
3.Offi. I would you had bin his Officer, for your owne sake.
4.Offi. You would have had more money.
1.Offi. He stop'd his eares with blacke wooll: and to (those came a woman. To him for money) said he was thicke of hearing.
2.Offi. Some said he was an hermophrodite, for he could not abide
4.Offi. How scurvy prowd he would looke, when the Treasury was full: Well, let him goe:
1.Offi. Yes, and the chippings of the Buttrey fly after him, To scowre his gold Chaine. Exeunt.
Dutch. Leave us: what doe you thinke of these?
Bos. That these are Rogues; that in's prosperitie, But to have waited on his fortune, could have wish'd His durty Stirrop rivited through their noses: And follow'd after's Mule, like a Beare in a Ring. Would have prostituted their daughters, to his Lust: Made their first-borne and Intelligencers: thought none happy But such as were borne under his bless'd Plannet: And wore his Livory: and doe these Lyce drop off now? Well, never looke to have the like againe;
He hath left a sort of flattring rogues, behind him, Their doombe must follow: Princes pay flatterers, In their owne money: Flatterers dissemble their vices, And they dissemble their lies, that's Justice: Alas, poore gentlemen,
Duch. Poore? he hath amply fill'd his cofers.
Bos. Sure he was too honest: Pluto the god of riches, When he's sent (by Jupiter) to any man He goes limping, to signifie that wealth That comes on god's name, comes slowly, but when he's sent One the divells arrand, he rides poast, and comes in by scuttles: Let me shew you, what a most unvalu'd jewell, You have (in a wanton humour) throwne away, To blesse the man shall find him: He was an excellent Courtier, and most faithfull, a souldier, that thought it As beastly to know his owne value too little, As devillish to acknowledge it too much, Both his vertue, and forme, deserv'd a farre better fortune: His discourse rather delighted to judge it selfe, then shew it selfe. His breast was fill'd with all perfection, And yet it seem'd a private whispring roome. It made so little noyse of't.
Duch. But he was basely descended.
Bos. Will you make your selfe a mercinary herald, Rather to examine mens pedegrees, then vertues? You shall want him, For know an honest states-man to a Prince, Is like a Cedar, planted by a Spring, The Spring bathes the trees roote, the gratefull tree, Rewards it with his shadow: you have not done so, I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes on two Politisians Rotten bladders, tide together with an Intelligencers hart-string Then depend on so changeable a Princes favour. Fare-thee-well (Antonio) since the mallice of the world Would needes downe with thee, it cannot be sayd yet That any ill happened unto thee, considering thy fall, Was accompanied with vertue.
Duch. Oh, you render me excellent Musicke.
Bos. Say you?
Duch. This good one that you speake of, is my husband.
Bos. Do I not dreame? can this ambitious age Have so much goodnes in't, as to prefer A man, meerely for worth: without these shadowes Of wealth, and painted honors? possible?
Duch. I have had three children by him.
Bos. Fortunate Lady, For you have made your private nuptiall bed The humble, and faire Seminary of peace, No question but: many an unbenific'd Scholler Shall pray for you, for this deed, and rejoyce That some preferment in the world can yet Arise from merit. The virgins of your land (That have no dowries) shall hope, your example Will raise them to rich husbands: Should you want Souldiers 'twould make the very Turkes and Moores Turne Christians, and serve you for this act. Last, the neglected Poets of your time, (In honour of this trophee of a man, Rais'd by that curious engine, (your white hand) Shall thanke you, in your grave for't; and make that More reverend then all the Cabinets Of living Princes: For Antonio His fame, shall likewise flow, from many a pen, When Heralds shall want coates, to sell to men.
Duch. As I taste comfort, in this friendly speech, So would I finde concealement.
Bos. O the secret of my Prince. Which I will weare on th'in-side of my heart.
Duch. You shall take charge of all my coyne, and jewels, And follow him, for he retires himselfe To Ancona.
Bos. So.
Duch. Whether, within few dayes,
I meane to follow thee.
Bos. Let me thinke: I would wish your Grace, to faigne a Pilgrimage To our Lady of Loretto, (scarce seaven leagues From faire Ancona) so may you depart Your Country, with more honour, and your flight Will seeme a Princely progresse, retaining Your usuall traine about you.
Duch. Sir, your direction Shall lead me, by the hand.
Car. In my opinion, She were better progresse to the bathes At Leuca, or go visit the Spaw In Germany, for (if you will beleeve me) I do not like this jesting with religion, This faigned Pilgrimage.
Duch. Thou art a superstitious foole, Prepare us instantly for our departure: Past sorrowes, let us moderately lament them, For those to come, seeke wisely, to prevent them. Exit.
Bos. A Polititian is the divells quilted anvell, He fashions all sinnes on him, and the blowes Are never heard, he may worke in a Ladies Chamber, (As here for proofe) what rests, but I reveale All to my Lord? oh, this base quality Of Intelligencer? why, every Quality i'th'world Preferres but gaine, or commendation: Now for this act, I am certaine to be rais'd, "And men that paint weedes, (to the life) are prais'd. Exit.
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