The Duchess of Malfi
Page 60
LOL. Is’t come to this? nay, then, my poison comes forth again [showing the whip]: mad slave, indeed, abuse your keeper!
ISA. I prithee, hence with him, now he grows dangerous.
FRAN. [Sings] Sweet love, pity me,
Give me leave to lie with thee.
LOL. No, I’ll see you wiser first: to your own kennel!
FRAN. No noise, she sleeps; draw all the curtains round,
Let no soft sound molest the pretty soul,
But love, and love creeps in at a mouse-hole.
LOL. I would you would get into your hole! [Exit Franciscus]—Now, mistress, I will bring you another sort; you shall be fooled another while. [Exit, and brings in Antonio]—Tony, come hither, Tony: look who’s yonder, Tony.
ANT. Cousin, is it not my aunt?60
LOL. Yes, ’tis one of ’em, Tony.
ANT. He, he! how do you, uncle?
LOL. Fear him not, mistress, ’tis a gentle nigget;61 you may play with him, as safely with him as with his bauble.
ISA. How long hast thou been a fool?
ANT. Ever since I came hither, cousin.
ISA. Cousin? I’m none of thy cousins, fool.
LOL. O, mistress, fools have always so much wit as to claim their kindred.
MADMAN [Within] Bounce, bounce! he falls, he falls!
ISA. Hark you, your scholars in the upper room
Are out of order.
LOL. Must I come amongst you there?—Keep you the fool, mistress;
I’ll go up and play left-handed Orlando amongst the madmen.
Exit
ISA. Well, sir.
ANT. ’Tis opportuneful now, sweet lady! nay,
Cast no amazing eye upon this change.
ISA. Ha!
ANT. This shape of folly shrouds your dearest love,
The truest servant to your powerful beauties,
Whose magic had this force thus to transform me.
ISA. You’re a fine fool indeed!
ANT. O, ’tis not strange!
Love has an intellect that runs through all
The scrutinous sciences, and, like a cunning poet,
Catches a quantity of every knowledge,
Yet brings all home into one mystery,
Into one secret, that he proceeds in.
ISA. You’re a parlous fool.
ANT. No danger in me; I bring nought but love
And his soft-wounding shafts to strive you with:
Try but one arrow; if it hurt you, I
Will stand you twenty back in recompense.
ISA. A forward fool too!
ANT. This was love’s teaching:
A thousand ways he fashioned out my way,
And this I found the safest and the nearest,
To tread the galaxia to my star.
ISA. Profound withal! certain you dreamed of this,
Love never taught it waking.
ANT. Take no acquaintance
Of these outward follies, there’s within
A gentleman that loves you.
ISA. When I see him,
I’ll speak with him; so, in the meantime, keep
Your habit, it becomes you well enough:
As you’re a gentleman, I’ll not discover you;
That’s all the favor that you must expect:
When you are weary, you may leave the school,
For all this while you have but played the fool.
Re-enter Lollio
ANT. And must again.—He, he! I thank you, cousin;
I’ll be your valentine to-morrow morning.
LOL. How do you like the fool, mistress?
ISA. Passing well, sir.
LOL. Is he not witty, pretty well, for a fool?
ISA. If he holds on as he begins, he’s like
To come to something.
LOL. Ay, thank a good tutor: you may put him to’t; he begins to answer pretty hard questions.—Tony, how many is five times six?
ANT. Five times six is six times five.
LOL. What arithmetician could have answered better?
How many is one hundred and seven?
ANT. One hundred and seven is seven hundred and one, cousin.
LOL. This is no wit to speak on!—Will you be rid of the fool now?
ISA. By no means; let him stay a little.
MADMAN [Within] Catch there, catch the last couple in hell!62
LOL. Again! must I come amongst you? Would my master were come home! I am not able to govern both these wards together.
Exit
ANT. Why should a minute of love’s hour be lost?
ISA. Fie, out63 again! I had rather you kept
Your other posture; you become not your tongue
When you speak from your clothes.
ANT. How can he freeze
Lives near so sweet a warmth? shall I alone
Walk through the orchard of th’ Hesperides,64
And, cowardly, not dare to pull an apple?
Enter Lollio above
This with the red cheeks I must venture for.
[Attempts to kiss her]
ISA. Take heed, there’s giants keep ’em.
LOL. How now, fool, are you good at that? have you read Lipsius?65 [Aside] he’s past Ars Amandi;66 I believe I must put harder questions to him, I perceive that.
ISA. You’re bold without fear too.
ANT. What should I fear,
Having all joys about me? Do you but smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again;
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold mine own deformity,
And dress myself up fairer: I know this shape
Becomes me not, but in those bright mirrors
I shall array me handsomely.
[Cries of madmen are heard within, like those of birds and beasts]
LOL. Cuckoo, cuckoo!
Exit above
ANT. What are these?
ISA. Of fear enough to part us;
Yet are they but our schools of lunatics,
That act their fantasies in any shapes,
Suiting their present thoughts: if sad, they cry;
If mirth be their conceit, they laugh again:
Sometimes they imitate the beasts and birds,
Singing or howling, braying, barking; all
As their wild fancies prompt ’em.
ANT. These are no fears.
ISA. But here’s a large one, my man.
Re-enter Lollio
ANT. Ha, he! that’s fine sport indeed, cousin.
LOL. I would my master were come home! ’tis too much for one shepherd to govern two of these flocks; nor can I believe that one churchman can instruct two benefices at once; there will be some incurable mad of the one side, and very fools on the other.—Come, Tony.
ANT. Prithee, cousin, let me stay here still.
LOL. No, you must to your book now; you have played sufficiently.
ISA. Your fool has grown wondrous witty.
LOL. Well, I’ll say nothing: but I do not think but he will put you down one of these days.
Exit with Antonio
ISA. Here the restrainèd current might make breach,
Spite of the watchful bankers: would a woman stray,
She need not gad abroad to seek her sin,
It would be brought home one way or other:
The needle’s point will to the fixèd north;
Such drawing arctics67 women’s beauties are.
Re-enter Lollio
LOL. How dost thou, sweet rogue?
ISA. How now?
LOL. Come, there are degrees; one fool may be better than another.
ISA. What’s the matter?
LOL. Nay, if thou givest thy mind to fool’s flesh, have at thee!
[Tries to kiss her]
ISA. You bold slave, you!
LOL. I could follow now as t’other fool did:
“What should I fear,
<
br /> Having all joys about me? Do you but smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again;
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold my own deformity,
And dress myself up fairer: I know this shape
Becomes me not—”
And so as it follows: but is not this the more foolish way? Come, sweet rogue; kiss me, my little Lacedæmonian;68 let me feel how thy pulses beat; thou hast a thing about thee would do a man pleasure,
I’ll lay my hand on’t.
ISA. Sirrah, no more! I see you have discovered
This love’s knight errant, who hath made adventure
For purchase of my love: be silent, mute,
Mute as a statue, or his injunction
For me enjoying, shall be to cut thy throat;
I’ll do it, though for no other purpose; and
Be sure he’ll not refuse it.
LOL. My share, that’s all;
I’ll have my fool’s part with you.
ISA. No more! your master.
Enter Alibius
ALIB. Sweet, how dost thou?
ISA. Your bounden servant, sir.
ALIB. Fie, fie, sweetheart,
No more of that.
ISA. You were best lock me up.
ALIB. In my arms and bosom, my sweet Isabella,
I’ll lock thee up most nearly.—Lollio,
We have employment, we have task in hand:
At noble Vermandero’s, our castle’s captain,
There is a nuptial to be solemnised—
Beatrice-Joanna, his fair daughter, bride—
For which the gentleman hath bespoke our pains,
A mixture of our madmen and our fools,
To finish, as it were, and make the fag69
Of all the revels, the third night from the first;
Only an unexpected passage over,
To make a frightful pleasure,70 that is all,
But not the all I aim at; could we so act it,
To teach it in a wild distracted measure,
Though out of form and figure, breaking time’s head,71
It were no matter, ’twould be healed again
In one age or other, if not in this:
This, this, Lollio, there’s a good reward begun,
And will beget a bounty, be it known.
LOL. This is easy, sir, I’ll warrant you: you have about you fools and madmen that can dance very well; and ’tis no wonder, your best dancers are not the wisest men; the reason is, with often jumping they jolt their brains down into their feet, that their wits lie more in their heels than in their heads.
ALIB. Honest Lollio, thou giv’st me a good reason,
And a comfort in it.
ISA. You’ve a fine trade on’t;
Madmen and fools are a staple commodity.
ALIB. O wife, we must eat, wear clothes, and live:
Just at the lawyer’s haven we arrive,
By madmen and by fools we both do thrive.
Exeunt
SCENE IV
Enter Vermandero, Beatrice, Alsemero, and Jasperino
VER. Valencia speaks so nobly of you, sir,
I wish I had a daughter now for you.
ALS. The fellow of this creature were a partner
For a king’s love.
VER. I had her fellow once, sir,
But Heaven has married her to joys eternal;
’Twere sin to wish her in this vale again.
Come, sir, your friend and you shall see the pleasures
Which my health72 chiefly joys in.
ALS. I hear
The beauty of this seat largely commended.
VER. It falls much short of that.
Exit with Alsemero and Jasperino
BEAT. So, here’s one step
Into my father’s favor; time will fix him;
I’ve got him now the liberty of the house;
So wisdom, by degrees, works out her freedom:
And if that eye be darkened that offends me,—
I wait but that eclipse,—this gentleman
Shall soon shine glorious in my father’s liking,
Through the refulgent virtue of my love.
Enter De Flores
DE F. [Aside] My thoughts are at a banquet; for the deed,
I feel no weight in’t; ’tis but light and cheap
For the sweet recompense that I set down for’t.
BEAT. De Flores?
DE F. Lady?
BEAT. Thy looks promise cheerfully.
DE F. All things are answerable, time, circumstance,
Your wishes, and my service.
BEAT. It is done, then?
DE F. Piracquo is no more.
BEAT. My joys start at mine eyes; our sweet’st delights
Are evermore born weeping.
DE F. I’ve a token for you.
BEAT. For me?
DE F. But it was sent somewhat unwillingly;
I could not get the ring without the finger.
[Producing the finger and ring]
BEAT. Bless me, what hast thou done?
DE F. Why, is that more
Than killing the whole man? I cut his heart-strings;
A greedy hand thrust in a dish at court,
In a mistake hath had as much as this.
BEAT. ’Tis the first token my father made me send him.
DE F. And I have made him send it back again
For his last token; I was loath to leave it,
And I’m sure dead men have no use of jewels;
He was as loath to part with’t, for it stuck
As if the flesh and it were both one substance.
BEAT. At the stag’s fall, the keeper has his fees;
’Tis soon applied, all dead men’s fees are yours, sir:
I pray, bury the finger, but the stone
You may make use on shortly; the true value,
Tak’t of my truth, is near three hundred ducats.
DE F. ’Twill hardly buy a capcase73 for one’s conscience though,
To keep it from the worm, as fine as ’tis:
Well, being my fees, I’ll take it;
Great men have taught me that, or else my merit
Would scorn the way on’t.
BEAT. It might justly, sir;
Why, thou mistak’st, De Flores, ’tis not given
In state of recompense.
DE F. No, I hope so, lady;
You should soon witness my contempt to’t then.
BEAT. Prithee,—thou look’st as if thou wert offended.
DE F. That were strange, lady; ’tis not possible
My service should draw such a cause74 from you:
Offended! could you think so? that were much
For one of my performance, and so warm
Yet in my service.
BEAT. ’Twere misery in me to give you cause, sir.
DE F. I know so much, it were so: misery
In her most sharp condition.
BEAT. ’Tis resolved then;
Look you, sir, here’s three thousand golden florins;
I have not meanly thought upon thy merit.
DE F. What! salary? now you move me.
BEAT. How, De Flores?
DE F. Do you place me in the rank of verminous fellows,
To destroy things for wages? offer gold
For the life-blood of man? is anything
Valued too precious for my recompense?
BEAT. I understand thee not.
DE F. I could ha’ hired
A journeyman in murder at this rate,
And mine own conscience might have slept at ease,
And have had the work brought home.
BEAT. [Aside] I’m in a labyrinth;
What will content him? I’d fain be rid of him.
I’ll double the sum, sir.
DE F. You take a course
To d
ouble my vexation, that’s the good you do.
BEAT. [Aside] Bless me, I’m now in worse plight than I was;
I know not what will please him.—For my fear’s sake,
I prithee, make away with all speed possible;
And if thou be’st so modest not to name
The sum that will content thee, paper blushes not,
Send thy demand in writing, it shall follow thee;
But, prithee, take thy flight.
DE F. You must fly too then.
BEAT. I?
DE F. I’ll not stir a foot else.
BEAT. What’s your meaning?
DE F. Why, are not you as guilty? in, I’m sure,
As deep as I; and we should stick together:
Come, your fears counsel you but ill; my absence
Would draw suspect upon you instantly;
There were no rescue for you.
BEAT. [Aside] He speaks home!
DE F. Nor is it fit we two, engaged so jointly,
Should part and live asunder.
BEAT. How now, sir?
This shows not well.
DE F. What makes your lip so strange?
This must not be betwixt us.
BEAT. The man talks wildly!
DE F. Come, kiss me with a zeal now.
BEAT. [Aside] Heaven, I doubt75 him!
DE F. I will not stand so long to beg ’em shortly.
BEAT. Take heed, De Flores, of forgetfulness,
’Twill soon betray us.
DE F. Take you heed first;
Faith, you’re grown much forgetful, you’re to blame in’t.
BEAT. [Aside] He’s bold, and I am blamed for’t.
DE F. I have eased you
Of your trouble, think on it; I am in pain,
And must be eased of you; ’tis a charity,
Justice invites your blood to understand me.
BEAT. I dare not.
DE F. Quickly!
BEAT. O, I never shall!
Speak it yet further off, that I may lose
What has been spoken, and no sound remain on’t;
I would not hear so much offence again
For such another deed.
DE F. Soft, lady, soft!
The last is not yet paid for: O, this act
Has put me into spirit; I was as greedy on’t
As the parched earth of moisture, when the clouds weep:
Did you not mark, I wrought myself into’t,
Nay, sued and kneeled for’t? why was all that pains took?
You see I’ve thrown contempt upon your gold;
Not that I want it not, for I do piteously,
In order I’ll come unto’t, and make use on’t,
But ’twas not held so precious to begin with,