The Duchess of Malfi

by Frank Kermode

  DUKE. But my hand shall ne’er do’t.

  AMB. That as you please, my lord.

  SUP. We must needs confess,

  Some fathers would have entered into hate

  So deadly-pointed, that before his eyes

  He would ha’ seen the execution sound

  Without corrupted favor.

  AMB. But, my lord,

  Your grace may live the wonder of all times,

  In pardoning that offence, which never yet

  Had face to beg a pardon.

  DUKE. Honey, how’s this?

  AMB. Forgive him, good my lord; he’s your own son:

  And I must needs say, ’twas the vilier done.

  SUP. He’s the next heir: yet this true reason gathers,

  None can possess that dispossess their fathers.

  Be merciful!—

  DUKE. [Aside] Here’s no step-mother’s wit;

  I’ll try them both upon their love and hate.

  AMB. Be merciful—although—

  DUKE. You have prevailed.

  My wrath, like flaming wax, hath spent itself;

  I know ’twas but some peevish moon86 in him;

  Go, let him be released.

  SUP. [Aside] ’Sfoot, how now, brother?

  AMB. Your grace doth please to speak beside your spleen;87

  I would it were so happy.

  DUKE. Why, go, release him.

  SUP. O my good lord! I know the fault’s too weighty,

  And full of general loathing: too inhuman,

  Rather by all men’s voices worthy death.

  DUKE. ’Tis true too; here, then, receive this signet.

  Doom shall pass;

  Direct it to the judges; he shall die

  Ere many days. Make haste.

  AMB. All speed that may be.

  We could have wished his burden not so sore:

  We knew your grace did but delay before.

  Exeunt Ambitioso and Supervacuo

  DUKE. Here’s envy with a poor thin cover o’er’t;

  Like scarlet hid in lawn, easily spied through.

  This their ambition by the mother’s side

  Is dangerous, and for safety must be purged.

  I will prevent88 their envies; sure it was

  But some mistaken fury in our son,

  Which these aspiring boys would climb upon:

  He shall be released suddenly.

  Enter Nobles

  1ST NOBLE. Good morning to your grace.

  DUKE. Welcome, my lords.

  2ND NOBLE. Our knees shall take

  Away the office of our feet for ever,

  Unless your grace bestow a father’s eye

  Upon the clouded fortunes of your son,

  And in compassionate virtue grant him that,

  Which makes e’en mean men happy—liberty.

  DUKE. How seriously their loves and honors woo

  For that which I am about to pray them do!

  Arise, my lords; your knees sign his release.

  We freely pardon him.

  1ST NOBLE. We owe your grace much thanks, and he much duty.

  Exeunt Nobles

  DUKE. It well becomes that judge to nod at crimes,

  That does commit greater himself, and lives.

  I may forgive a disobedient error,

  That expect pardon for adultery,

  And in my old days am a youth in lust.

  Many a beauty have I turned to poison

  In the denial, covetous of all.

  Age hot is like a monster to be seen;

  My hairs are white, and yet my sins are green.

  ACT III, SCENE I

  Enter Ambitioso and Supervacuo

  SUP. Brother, let my opinion sway you once;

  I speak it for the best, to have him die

  Surest and soonest; if the signet come

  unto the judge’s hand, why then his doom

  Will be deferred till sittings and court-days,

  Juries, and further. Faiths are bought and sold;

  Oaths in these days are but the skin of gold.

  AMB. In troth, ’tis true too.

  SUP. Then let’s set by the judges,

  And fall to the officers; ’tis but mistaking

  The duke our father’s meaning; and where he named

  “Ere many days”—’tis but forgetting that,

  And have him die i’ the morning.

  AMB. Excellent!

  Then am I heir! duke in a minute!

  SUP. [Aside] Nay,

  An he were once puffed out, here is a pin

  Should quickly prick your bladder.

  AMB. Blessed occasion!

  He being packed, we’ll have some trick and wile

  To wind our younger brother out of prison,

  That lies in for the rape. The lady’s dead,

  And people’s thoughts will soon be burièd.

  SUP. We may with safety do’t, and live and feed;

  The duchess’ sons are too proud to bleed.

  AMB. We are, i’faith, to say true—come, let’s not linger:

  I’ll to the officers; go you before,

  And set an edge upon the executioner.

  SUP. Let me alone to grind.

  Exit

  AMB. Meet farewell!

  I am next now; I rise just in that place,

  Where thou’rt cut off; upon thy neck, kind brother;

  The falling of one head lifts up another.

  Exit

  SCENE II

  Enter Lussurioso with Nobles

  LUS. My lords, I am so much indebted to your loves

  For this, O, this delivery—

  1ST NOBLE. But89 our duties, my lord, unto the hopes that grow in you.

  LUS. If e’er I live to be myself, I’ll thank you.

  O liberty, thou sweet and heavenly dame!

  But hell for prison is too mild a name.

  Exeunt

  Enter Ambitioso and Supervacuo, with Officers

  AMB. Officers, here’s the duke’s signet, your firm warrant,

  Brings the command of present death along with it

  Unto our brother, the duke’s son; we are sorry

  That we are so unnaturally employed

  In such an unkind office, fitter far

  For enemies than brothers.

  SUP. But, you know,

  The duke’s command must be obeyed.

  1ST OFF. It must and shall, my lord. This morning then—

  So suddenly?

  AMB. Ay, alas! poor, good soul!

  He must breakfast betimes; the executioner

  Stands ready to put forth his cowardly valor.

  2ND OFF. Already?

  SUP. Already, i’faith. O sir, destruction hies,

  And that is least impudent,90 soonest dies.

  1ST OFF. Troth, you say true. My lord, we take our leaves:

  Our office shall be sound; we’ll not delay

  The third part of a minute.

  AMB. Therein you show

  Yourselves good men and upright. Officers,

  Pray, let him die as private as he may;

  Do him that favor; for the gaping people

  Will but trouble him at his prayers.

  And make him curse and swear, and so die black.

  Will you be so far kind?

  1ST OFF. It shall be done, my lord.

  AMB. Why, we do thank you; if we live to be—

  You shall have a better office.

  2ND OFF. Your good lordship—

  SUP. Commend us to the scaffold in our tears.

  1ST OFF. We’ll weep, and do your commendations.

  AMB. Fine fools in office!

  Exeunt Officers

  SUP. Things fall out so fit!

  AMB. So happily! come, brother! ere next clock,

  His head will be made serve a bigger block.91

  Exeunt

  SCENE III

  Enter the Duchess’ Youngest Son and Keeper


  Y. SON. Keeper!

  KEEP. My lord.

  Y. SON. No news lately from our brothers?

  Are they unmindful of us?

  KEEP. My lord, a messenger came newly in,

  And brought this from ’em.

  Y. SON. Nothing but paper-comforts?

  I looked for my delivery before this,

  Had they been worth their oaths.—Prythee, be from us.

  Exit Keeper

  Now what say you, forsooth? speak out, I pray.

  [Reads the letter] “Brother, be of good cheer”; ’Slud, it begins like a whore with good cheer. “Thou shalt not be long a prisoner.” Not six-and-thirty years, like a bankrupt—I think so. “We have thought upon a device to get thee out by a trick.” By a trick! pox o’ your trick, an’ it be so long a playing. “And so rest comforted, be merry, and expect it suddenly!” Be merry! hang merry, draw and quarter merry; I’ll be mad. Is’t not strange that a man should lie in a whole month for a woman? Well, we shall see how sudden our brothers will be in their promise. I must expect still a trick: I shall not be long a prisoner. How now, what news?

  Re-enter Keeper

  KEEP. Bad news, my lord; I am discharged of you.

  Y. SON. Slave! call’st thou that bad news? I thank you, brothers.

  KEEP. My lord, ’twill prove so. Here come the officers,

  Into whose hands I must commit you.

  Y. SON. Ha, officers! what? why?

  Enter Officers

  1ST OFF. You must pardon us, my lord:

  Our office must be sound: here is our warrant,

  The signet from the duke; you must straight suffer.

  Y. SON. Suffer! I’ll suffer you to begone; I’ll suffer you

  To come no more; what would you have me suffer?

  2ND OFF. My lord, those words were better changed to prayers.

  The time’s but brief with you: prepare to die.

  Y. SON. Sure, ’tis not so!

  3RD OFF. It is too true, my lord.

  Y. SON. I tell you ’tis not; for the duke my father

  Deferred me till next sitting; and I look,

  E’en every minute, threescore times an hour,

  For a release, a trick wrought by my brothers.

  1ST OFF. A trick, my lord! if you expect such comfort,

  Your hope’s as fruitless as a barren woman:

  Your brothers were the unhappy messengers

  That brought this powerful token for your death.

  Y. SON. My brothers? no, no.

  2ND OFF. ’Tis most true, my lord.

  Y. SON. My brothers to bring a warrant for my death!

  How strange this shows!

  3RD OFF. There’s no delaying time.

  Y. SON. Desire ’em hither: call ’em up—my brothers!

  They shall deny it to your faces.

  1ST OFF. My lord,

  They’re far enough by this; at least at court;

  And this most strict command they left behind ’em.

  When grief swam in their eyes, they showed like brothers,

  Brimful of heavy sorrow—but the duke

  “Must have his pleasure.”

  Y. SON. His pleasure!

  1ST OFF. These were the last words, which my memory bears,

  “Commend us to the scaffold in our tears.”

  Y. SON. Pox dry their tears! what should I do with tears?

  I hate ’em worse than any citizen’s son

  Can hate salt water. Here came a letter now,

  New-bleeding from their pens, scarce stinted92 yet:

  Would I’d been torn in pieces when I tore it:

  Look, you officious whoresons, words of comfort,

  “Not long a prisoner.”

  1ST OFF. It says true in that, sir; for you must suffer presently.

  Y. SON. A villainous Duns93 upon the letter, knavish exposition!

  Look you then here, sir: “we’ll get thee out by a trick,” says he.

  2ND OFF. That may hold too, sir; for you know a trick is commonly four cards,94 which was meant by us four officers.

  Y. SON. Worse and worse dealing.

  1ST OFF. The hour beckons us.

  The headsman waits: lift up your eyes to Heaven.

  Y. SON. I thank you, faith; good pretty wholesome counsel!

  I should look up to Heaven, as you said,

  Whilst he behind me cosens me of my head.

  Ay, that’s the trick.

  3RD OFF. You delay too long, my lord.

  Y. SON. Stay, good authority’s bastards; since I must,

  Through brothers’ perjury, die, O, let me venom

  Their souls with curses.

  3RD OFF. Come, ’tis no time to curse.

  Y. SON. Must I bleed then without respect of sign?95 well—

  My fault was sweet sport which the world approves,

  I die for that which every woman loves.

  Exeunt

  SCENE IV

  Enter Vendice, disguised, and Hippolito

  VEN. O, sweet, delectable, rare, happy, ravishing!

  HIP. Why, what’s the matter, brother?

  VEN. O, ’tis able to make a man spring up and knock his forehead

  Against yon silver ceiling.96

  HIP. Prythee, tell me;

  Why may not I partake with you? you vowed once

  To give me share to every tragic thought.

  VEN. By the mass, I think I did too;

  Then I’ll divide it to thee. The old duke,

  Thinking my outward shape and inward heart

  Are cut out of one piece (for he that prates his secrets,

  His heart stands o’ the outside), hires me by price

  To greet him with a lady

  In some fit place, veiled from the eyes o’ the court,

  Some darkened, blushless angle, that is guilty

  Of his forefather’s lust and great folks’ riots;

  To which I easily (to maintain my shape)

  Consented, and did wish his impudent grace

  To meet her here in this unsunnèd lodge,

  Wherein ’tis night at noon; and here the rather

  Because, unto the torturing of his soul,

  The bastard and the duchess have appointed

  Their meeting too in this luxurious circle;

  Which most afflicting sight will kill his eyes,

  Before we kill the rest of him.

  HIP. ’Twill, i’faith! Most dreadfully digested!97

  I see not how you could have missed me,98 brother.

  VEN. True; but the violence of my joy forgot it.

  HIP. Ay, but where’s that lady now?

  VEN. O! at that word

  I’m lost again; you cannot find me yet:

  I’m in a throng of happy apprehensions.

  He’s suited for a lady; I have took care

  For a delicious lip, a sparkling eye—

  You shall be witness, brother:

  Be ready; stand with your hat off.

  Exit

  HIP. Troth, I wonder what lady it should be!

  Yet ’tis no wonder, now I think again,

  To have a lady stoop to a duke, that stoops unto his men.

  ’Tis common to be common through the world:

  And there’s more private common shadowing vices,

  Than those who are known both by their names and prices.

  ’Tis part of my allegiance to stand bare

  To the duke’s concubine; and here she comes.

  Re-enter Vendice, with the skull of his Betrothed dressed up in tires99

  VEN. Madam, his grace will not be absent long.100

  Secret! ne’er doubt us, madam; ’twill be worth

  Three velvet gowns to your ladyship. Known!

  Few ladies respect that disgrace: a poor thin shell!

  ’Tis the best grace you have to do it well.

  I’ll save your hand that labor: I’ll unmask you!

  HIP. Why, brother, brother!

  VEN. Art tho
u beguiled now? tut, a lady can,

  As such all hid, beguile a wiser man.

  Have I not fitted the old surfeiter

  With a quaint piece of beauty? Age and bare bone

  Are e’er allied in action. Here’s an eye,

  Able to tempt a great man—to serve God:

  A pretty hanging lip, that has forgot now to dissemble.

  Methinks this mouth should make a swearer tremble;

  A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo ’em.

  To suffer wet damnation to run through ’em.

  Here’s a cheek keeps her color, let the wind go whistle:

  Spout, rain, we fear thee not: be hot or cold,

  All’s one with us; and is not he absurd,

  Whose fortunes are upon their faces set,

  That fear no other god but wind and wet?

  HIP. Brother, you’ve spoke that right:

  Is this the form that, living, shone so bright?

  VEN. The very same.

  And now methinks I could e’en chide myself

  For doating on her beauty, though her death

  Shall be revenged after no common action.

  Does the silkworm expend her yellow labors

  For thee? For thee does she undo herself?

  Are lordships sold to maintain ladyships,

  For the poor benefit of a bewitching minute?

  Why does yon fellow falsify highways,

  And put his life between the judge’s lips,

  To refine such a thing—keeps horse and men

  To beat their valors for her?

  Surely we are all mad people, and they

  Whom we think are, are not: we mistake those;

  ’Tis we are mad in sense, they but in clothes.

  HIP. Faith, and in clothes too we, give us our due.

  VEN. Does every proud and self-affecting dame

  Camphire101 her face for this, and grieve her maker

  In sinful baths of milk, when many an infant starves

  For her superfluous outside—all for this?

  Who now bids twenty pounds a night? prepares

  Music, perfumes, and sweetmeats? All are hushed.

  Thou may’st lie chaste now! it were fine, methinks,

  To have thee seen at revels, forgetful feasts,

  And unclean brothels! sure, ’twould fright the sinner,

  And make him a good coward: put a reveller

  Out of his antic amble,

  And cloy an epicure with empty dishes.

  Here might a scornful and ambitious woman

  Look through and through herself. See, ladies, with false forms

  You deceive men, but cannot deceive worms.—

  Now to my tragic business. Look you, brother,

  I have not fashioned this only for show

  And useless property;102 no, it shall bear a part