The Duchess of Malfi

by Frank Kermode

  GRA. Ay, to the duke: daughter, you’d scorn to think o’ the devil, an65 you were there once.

  VEN. [Aside] True, for most there are as proud as he for his heart,66 i’faith.

  Who’d sit at home in a neglected room,

  Dealing her short-lived beauty to the pictures,

  That are as useless as old men, when those

  Poorer in face and fortune than herself

  Walk with a hundred acres on their backs,

  Fair meadows cut into green foreparts? O,

  It was the greatest blessing ever happened to woman

  When farmers’ sons agreed and met again,

  To wash their hands, and come up gentlemen!

  The commonwealth has flourished ever since:

  Lands that were mete67 by the rod, that labor’s spared:

  Tailors ride down, and measure ’em by the yard.

  Fair trees, those comely foretops of the field,

  Are cut to maintain head-tires—much untold.

  All thrives but chastity; she lies a-cold.

  Nay, shall I come nearer to you? mark but this:

  Why are there so few honest women, but because ’tis the poorer

  profession? that’s accounted best that’s best followed; least in

  trade, least in fashion; and that’s not honesty, believe it; and do

  but note the low and dejected price of it—

  Lose but a pearl, we search, and cannot brook it:

  But that68 once gone, who is so mad to look69 it?

  GRA. Troth, he says true.

  CAS. False! I defy you both:

  I have endured you with an ear of fire;

  Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face.

  Mother, come from that poisonous woman there.

  GRA. Where?

  CAS. Do you not see her? she’s too inward, then!

  Slave, perish in thy office! you Heavens, please

  Henceforth to make the mother a disease,

  Which first begins with me: yet I’ve outgone you.

  Exit

  VEN. [Aside] O angels, clap your wings upon the skies,

  And give this virgin crystal plaudites!

  GRA. Peevish, coy, foolish!—but return this answer,

  My lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure

  Conducts him this way. I will sway mine own.

  Women with women can work best alone.

  Exit

  VEN. Indeed, I’ll tell him so.

  O, more uncivil, more unnatural,

  Than those base-titled creatures that look downward;

  Why does not Heaven turn black, or with a frown

  Undo the world? Why does not earth start up,

  And strike the sins that tread upon’t? O,

  Were’t not for gold and women, there would be no damnation.

  Hell would look like a lord’s great kitchen without fire in’t.

  But ’twas decreed, before the world began,

  That they should be the hooks to catch at man.

  Exit

  SCENE II

  Enter Lussurioso, with Hippolito

  LUS. I much applaud

  Thy judgment; thou art well-read in a fellow;

  And ’tis the deepest art to study man.

  I know this, which I never learnt in schools,

  The world’s divided into knaves and fools.

  HIP. [Aside] Knave in your face, my lord—behind your back—

  LUS. And I much thank thee, that thou hast preferred

  A fellow of discourse, well-mingled,

  And whose brain time hath seasoned.

  HIP. True, my lord,

  We shall find season70 once, I hope. [Aside] O villain!

  To make such an unnatural slave of me—but—

  LUS. Mass, here he comes.

  HIP. [Aside] And now shall I have free leave to depart.

  LUS. Your absence, leave us.

  HIP. [Aside] Are not my thoughts true?

  I must remove; but, brother, you may stay.

  Heart! we are both made bawds a new-found way!

  Exit

  Enter Vendice, disguised

  LUS. Now we’re an even number, a third man’s dangerous,

  Especially her brother;—say, be free,

  Have I a pleasure toward?

  VEN. O my lord!

  LUS. Ravish me in thine answer; art thou rare?

  Hast thou beguiled her of salvation,

  And rubbed hell o’er with honey? Is she a woman?

  VEN. In all but in desire.

  LUS. Then she’s in nothing—I bate in courage71 now.

  VEN. The words I brought

  Might well have made indifferent honest naught.72

  A right good woman in these days is changed

  Into white money with less labor far;

  Many a maid has turned to Mahomet73

  With easier working: I durst undertake,

  upon the pawn and forfeit of my life,

  With half those words to flat a Puritan’s wife.

  But she is close and good; yet ’tis a doubt

  By this time.—O, the mother, the mother!

  LUS. I never thought their sex had been a wonder,

  Until this minute. What fruit from the mother?

  VEN. [Aside] How must I blister my soul, be forsworn,

  Or shame the woman that received me first!

  I will be true: thou liv’st not to proclaim.

  Spoke to a dying man, shame has no shame.

  My lord.

  LUS. Who’s that?

  VEN. Here’s none but I, my lord.

  LUS. What would thy haste utter?

  VEN. Comfort.

  LUS. Welcome.

  VEN. The maid being dull, having no mind to travel

  Into unknown lands, what did I straight,

  But set spurs to the mother? golden spurs

  Will put her to a false gallop in a trice.

  LUS. Is’t possible that in this

  The mother should be damned before the daughter?

  VEN. O, that’s good manners, my lord; the mother for her age must go foremost, you know.

  LUS. Thou’st spoke that true! but where comes mother in this comfort?

  VEN. In a fine place, my lord,—the unnatural

  Did with her tongue so hard beset her honor,

  That the poor fool was struck to silent wonder;

  Yet still the maid, like an unlighted taper,

  Was cold and chaste, save that her mother’s breath

  Did blow fire on her cheeks. The girl departed;

  But the good ancient madam, half mad, threw me

  These promising words, which I took deeply note of:

  “My lord shall be most welcome”—

  LUS. Faith, I thank her.

  VEN. “When his pleasure conducts him this way”—

  LUS. That shall be soon, i’faith.

  VEN. “I will sway mine own”—

  LUS. She does the wiser: I commend her for’t.

  VEN. “Women with women can work best alone.”

  LUS. By this light, and so they can; give ’em their due, men are not comparable to ’em.

  VEN. NO, that’s true; for you shall have one woman knit more in an hour, than any man can ravel again in seven-and-twenty years.

  LUS. Now my desires are happy; I’ll make ’em freemen now.

  Thou art a precious fellow; faith, I love thee;

  Be wise and make it thy revénue; beg, leg;74

  What office couldst thou be ambitious for?

  VEN. Office, my lord! marry, if I might have my wish, I would have one that was never begged yet.

  LUS. Nay, then, thou canst have none.

  VEN. Yes, my lord, I could pick out another office yet; nay, and keep a horse and drab75 upon’t.

  LUS. Prythee, good bluntness, tell me.

  VEN. Why, I would desire but this, my lord—to have all the fees behind the arras, and all the farthingales that fall plump
about twelve o’clock at night upon the rushes.

  LUS. Thou’rt a mad, apprehensive76 knave; dost think to make any great purchase of that?

  VEN. O, ’tis an unknown thing, my lord; I wonder’t has been missed so long.

  LUS. Well, this night I’ll visit her, and ’tis till then

  A year in my desires—farewell, attend

  Trust me with thy preferment.

  VEN. My loved lord!

  Exit Lussurioso

  O, shall I kill him o’ th’ wrong side now? no!

  Sword, thou wast never a backbiter yet.

  I’ll pierce him to his face; he shall die looking upon me.

  Thy veins are swelled with lust, this shall unfill ’em.

  Great men were gods, if beggars could not kill ’em.

  Forgive me, Heaven, to call my mother wicked!

  O, lessen not my days upon the earth,

  I cannot honor her. By this, I fear me,

  Her tongue has turned my sister unto use.

  I was a villain not to be forsworn

  To this our lecherous hope, the duke’s son;

  For lawyers, merchants, some divines, and all,

  Count beneficial perjury a sin small.

  It shall go hard yet, but I’ll guard her honor,

  And keep the ports sure.

  Exit

  SCENE III

  Enter Vendice, still disguised, and Hippolito

  HIP. Brother, how goes the world? I would know news of you.

  But I have news to tell you.

  VEN. What, in the name of knavery?

  HIP. Knavery, faith;

  This vicious old duke’s worthily abused;

  The pen of his bastard writes him cuckold?

  VEN. His bastard?

  HIP. Pray, believe it; he and the duchess

  By night meet in their linen; they have been seen

  By stair-foot panders.

  VEN. O, sin foul and deep!

  Great faults are winked at when the duke’s asleep.

  See, see, here comes the Spurio.

  HIP. Monstrous luxur!

  VEN. Unbraced! two of his valiant bawds with him!

  O, there’s a wicked whisper; hell’s in his ear.

  Stay, let’s observe his passage—

  Enter Spurio and Servants

  SPU. O, but are you sure on’t?

  1ST SER. My lord, most sure on’t; for ’twas spoke by one,

  That is most inward with the duke’s son’s lust,

  That he intends within this hour to steal

  Unto Hippolito’s sister, whose chaste life

  The mother has corrupted for his use.

  SPU. Sweet word! sweet occasion! faith, then, brother,

  I’ll disinherit you in as short time

  As I was when I was begot in haste.

  I’ll damn you at your pleasure: precious deed!

  After your lust, O, ’twill be fine to bleed.

  Come, let our passing out be soft and wary.

  Exeunt Spurio and Servants

  VEN. Mark! there; there; that step; now to the duchess!

  This their second meeting writes the duke cuckold

  With new additions—his horns newly revived.

  Night! thou that look’st like funeral heralds’ fees,77

  Torn down betimes i’ the morning, thou hang’st fitly

  To grace those sins that have no grace at all.

  Now ’tis full sea abed over the world:

  There’s juggling of all sides; some that were maids

  E’en at sunset, are now perhaps i’ the toll-book.78

  This woman in immodest thin apparel

  Lets in her friend by water; here a dame

  Cunning nails leather hinges to a door,

  To avoid proclamation.

  Now cuckolds are coining, apace, apace, apace, apace!

  And careful sisters spin that thread i’ the night,

  That does maintain them and their bawds i’ the day.

  HIP. You flow well, brother.

  VEN. Pooh! I’m shallow yet;

  Too sparing and too modest; shall I tell thee?

  If every trick were told that’s dealt by night,

  There are few here that would not blush outright.

  HIP. I am of that belief too. Who’s this comes?

  VEN. The duke’s son up so late? Brother, fall back,

  And you shall learn some mischief. My good lord!

  Enter Lussurioso

  LUS. Piato! why, the man I wished for! Come,

  I do embrace this season for the fittest

  To taste of that young lady.

  VEN. [Aside] Heart and hell!

  HIP. [Aside] Damned villain!

  VEN. [Aside] I have no way now to cross it, but to kill him.

  LUS. Come, only thou and I.

  VEN. My lord! my lord!

  LUS. Why dost thou start us?

  VEN. I’d almost forgot—the bastard!

  LUS. What of him?

  VEN. This night, this hour, this minute, now—

  LUS. What? what?

  VEN. Shadows79 the duchess—

  LUS. Horrible word!

  VEN. And (like strong poison) eats

  Into the duke your father’s forehead.

  LUS. O!

  VEN. He makes horn-royal.

  LUS. Most ignoble slave!

  VEN. This is the fruit of two beds.

  LUS. I am mad.

  VEN. That passage he trod warily.

  LUS. He did?

  VEN. And hushed his villains every step he took.

  LUS. His villains! I’ll confound them.

  VEN. Take ’em finely—finely, now.

  LUS. The duchess’ chamber-door shall not control me.

  Exeunt Lussurioso and Vendice

  HIP. Good, happy, swift: there’s gunpowder i’ the court,

  Wildfire at midnight. In this heedless fury

  He may show violence to cross80 himself.

  I’ll follow the event.81

  Exit

  SCENE IV

  Duke and Duchess screened within a bed

  Enter Lussurioso and Vendice, disguised

  LUS. Where is that villain?

  VEN. Softly, my lord, and you may take ’em twisted.

  LUS. I care not how.

  VEN. O! ’twill be glorious

  To kill ’em doubled, when they’re heaped. Be soft, my lord.

  LUS. Away! my spleen is not so lazy: thus and thus

  I’ll shake their eyelids ope, and with my sword

  Shut ’em again for ever. Villain! strumpet!

  DUKE. You upper guard, defend us!

  DUCH. Treason! treason!

  DUKE. O, take me not in sleep!

  I have great sins; I must have days,

  Nay, months, dear son, with penitential heaves,

  To lift ’em out, and not to die unclear.

  O, thou wilt kill me both in Heaven and here.

  LUS. I am amazed to death.

  DUKE. Nay, villain, traitor,

  Worse than the foulest epithet; now I’ll gripe thee

  E’en with the nerves of wrath, and throw thy head

  Amongst the lawyers!—guard!

  Enter Ambitioso, Supervacuo, and Lords

  1ST LORD. How comes the quiet of your grace disturbed?

  DUKE. This boy, that should be myself after me,

  Would be myself before me; and in heat

  Of that ambition bloodily rushed in,

  Intending to depose me in my bed.

  2ND LORD. Duty and natural loyalty forfend!

  DUCH. He called his father villain, and me strumpet,

  A word that I abhor to file82 my lips with.

  AMB. That was not so well-done, brother.

  LUS. [Aside] I am abused—I know there’s no excuse can do me good.

  VEN. [Aside] ’Tis now good policy to be from sight;

  His vicious purpose to our sister’s honor

  I crossed beyond ou
r thought.

  HIP. You little dreamt his father slept here.

  VEN. O, ’twas far beyond me:

  But since it fell so—without frightful words,

  Would he had killed him, ’twould have eased our swords.

  DUKE. Be comforted, our duchess, he shall die.

  Exeunt Vendice and Hippolito

  LUS. Where’s this slave-pander now? out of mine eye,

  Guilty of this abuse.

  Enter Spurio with Servants

  SPU. Y’ are villains, fablers!83

  You have knaves’ chins and harlots’ tongues; you lie;

  And I will damn you with one meal a day.

  1ST SER. O good my lord!

  SPU. ’Sblood, you shall never sup.

  2ND SER. O, I beseech you, sir!

  SPU. TO let my sword catch cold so long, and miss him!

  1ST SER. Troth, my lord, ’twas his intent to meet there.

  SPU. Heart! he’s yonder.

  Ha, what news here? is the day out o’ the socket,

  That it is noon at midnight? the court up?

  How comes the guard so saucy with his84 elbows?

  LUS. The bastard here?

  Nay, then the truth of my intent shall out;

  My lord and father, hear me.

  DUKE. Bear him hence.

  LUS. I can with loyalty excuse.

  DUKE. Excuse? to prison with the villain!

  Death shall not long lag after him.

  SPU. Good, i’faith: then ’tis not much amiss.

  LUS. Brothers, my best release lies on your tongues;

  I pray, persuade for me.

  AMB. It is our duties; make yourself sure of us.

  SPU. We’ll sweat in pleading.

  LUS. And I may live to thank you.

  Exit with Lords

  AMB. No, thy death shall thank me better.

  SPU. He’s gone; I’ll after him,

  And know his trespass; seem to bear a part

  In all his ills, but with a puritan85 heart.

  Exit with Servants

  AMB. Now, brother, let our hate and love be woven

  So subtly together, that in speaking one word for his life,

  We may make three for his death:

  The craftiest pleader gets most gold for breath.

  SUP. Set on, I’ll not be far behind you, brother.

  DUKE. Is’t possible a son should be disobedient as far as the sword? It is the highest: he can go no farther.

  AMB. My gracious lord, take pity—

  DUKE. Pity, boys!

  AMB. Nay, we’d be loath to move your grace too much;

  We know the trespass is unpardonable,

  Black, wicked, and unnatural.

  SUP. In a son! O, monstrous!

  AMB. Yet, my lord,

  A duke’s soft hand strokes the rough head of law,

  And makes it lie smooth.