THE TRAGEDY OF THE DUCHESS OF MALFY.
BY JOHN WEBSTER.

The Duchess of Malfy marries Antonio, her Steward.

DUCHESS. CARIOLA, her Maid.

Duchess. Is Antonio come?

Cariola. He attends you.

Duch. 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 withdraws.

Antonio enters.

I sent for you, sit down.

Take pen and ink and write. Are you ready?

Ant. Yes.

Duch. What did I

Ant. That I should write somewhat.

Duch. Oh, I remember.

After these triumphs and this large expence
It's fit, like thrifty husbands, we enquire
What's laid up for to-morrow.

Ant. So please your beauteous excellence.

Duch. Beauteous indeed! I thank you; I look young For your sake. You have tane my cares upon you. Ant. I'll fetch your grace the particulars of your reve

nue and expence.

Duch. Oh, you're an upright treasurer: but you mistook,

For when I said I meant to make enquiry

What's laid up for to-morrow, I did mean
What's laid up yonder for me.

Ant.

Ant. Where?

Duch. In heaven.

I'm 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?

Ant. Oh, much better.

Duch. 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?

Ant. Begin with that first good deed, began in the world

After man's creation, the sacrament of marriage.

I'd have you first provide for a good husband;

Give him all.

Duch. All!

Ant. Yes, your excellent self.

Duch. In a winding sheet?

Ant. In a couple.

Duch. St. Winifred, that were a strange will.
Ant. "Twere stanger if there were no will in you

To marry again.

Duch. What do you think of marriage?

Ant. I take it, as those that deny purgatory; It locally contains or heaven or hell,

There's no third place in't.

Duch. How do you affect it?

Ant. My banishment, feeding my melancholy, Would often reason thus.

Duch. Pray, let us hear it.

Ant. 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.

Duch. Fie, fie, what's all this?

Оне

One of your eyes is blood-shot; use my Ring to't.
They say 'tis very sovran, 'twas my wedding ring,
And I did vow never to part with it

But to my second husband.

Ant. You have parted with it now.
Duch. Yes, to help your eye-sight.
Ant. You have made me stark blind.

Duch. How?

Ant. There is a saucy and ambitious devil, Is dancing in this circle.

Duch. Remove him.

Ant. How?

Duch. There needs small conjuration, when your finger May do it; thus: is it fit?

She puts the Ring on his finger.

Ant. What said you?

Duch. Sir!

He kneels.

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.
Ant. 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 lunatick beyond all cure.
Conceive not I'm so stupid, but I aim
Whereto your favors tend: but he's a fool

That, being a cold, would thrust his hands in the fire
To warm them.

Duch. So, now the ground's broke,

You may discover what a wealthy mine

I make you Lord of,

Ant. Oh my unworthiness.

Duch. You were ill to sell yourself.

This darkning of your worth is not like that

Which tradesmen use in 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.

Ant. Were there nor heaven nor hell,

I should be honest: I have long serv'd virtue,
And never tane wages of her.—

Duch. 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 forced 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 it distracts you?

Sir,

;

This is flesh and bloot,

'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 :

I use but half a blush in't.

Ant. Truth speak for me;

I will remain the constant sanctuary

Of your good name.

Duch. 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 sweet meats thus,

As fearful to devour them too soon.

Ant. But, for your brothers

Duch. Do not think of them.

All

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.

Ant. These words should be mine,

And all the parts you have spoke; if some part of it
Would not have savour'd flattery.

Duch. Kneel.

Ant. Hah!

(Cariola comes forward.)

Duch. Be not amaz'd; this woman's of my council.
I have heard lawyers say, a contract in a chamber
Per verba præsenti is absolute marriage:

Bless heaven this sacred Gordian, which let violence
Never untwine.

Ant. And may our sweet affections, like the spheres, Be still in motion.

Duch. Quickening, and make

The like soft music.

Car. Whether the spirit of greatness, or of woman, Reign most in her, I know not; but it shews

A fearful madness: I owe her much of pity.

The Duchess's marriage with Antonio being discovered, her brother Ferdinand shuts her up in a Prison, and torments her with various trials of studied Cruelty. By his command Bosola, the instrument of his Devices, shews her the Bodies of her Husband and Children counterfeited in Wax, as dead.

Bos. He doth present you this sad spectacle, That now you know directly they are dead, Hereafter you may wisely cease to grieve

For that which cannot be recovered.

Duch. There is not between heaven and earth one wish I stay for after this: it wastes me more

Than were't my picture fashion'd out of wax,
Stuck with a magical needle,. and then buried