SCENE III.[2742

[_To them_] _enter_ MALEVOLE, _and_ PIETRO _disguised like an hermit_.

_Mal._ The duke,—peace!—the duke is dead.

_Aur._ Music!

_Mal._ Is ’t music?

_Men._ Give proof.

_Fer._ How? 5

_Celso._ Where?

_Prep._ When?

_Mal._ Rest in peace, as the duke does: quietly sit: for my own part, I beheld him but dead; that ’s all. Marry, here ’s one can give you 10 a more particular account of him.

_Men._ Speak, holy father, nor let any brow Within this presence fright thee from the truth: Speak confidently and freely.

_Aur._ We attend.

_Pietro._ Now had the mounting sun’s all-ripening wings 15 Swept the cold sweat of night from earth’s dank breast, When I, whom men call Hermit of the Rock, Forsook my cell, and clambered up a cliff, Against whose base the heady Neptune dash’d His high-curl’d brows; there ’t was I eas’d my limbs: 20 When, lo! my entrails melted with the moan Some one, who far ’bove me was climb’d, did make— I shall offend.

_Men._ Not.

_Aur._ On. 25

_Pietro._ Methinks I hear him yet:—“O female faith! Go sow the ingrateful sand, and love a woman! And do I live to be the scoff of men? To be their wittol-cuckold, even to hug My poison? Thou knowest, O truth! 30 Sooner hard steel will melt with southern wind, A seaman’s whistle calm the ocean, A town on fire be extinct with tears, Than women, vow’d to blushless impudence, With sweet behaviour and soft minioning 35 Will turn from that where appetite is fix’d. O powerful blood! how thou dost slave their soul! I wash’d an Ethiop, who, for recompense, Sullied my name: and must I, then, be forc’d 39 To walk, to live thus black? Must! must! fie! He that can bear with ’must,’ he cannot die.” With that he sigh’d so passionately deep, That the dull air even groan’d: at last he cries, “Sink shame in seas, sink deep enough!” so dies; For then I viewed his body fall, and souse 45 Into the foamy main. O, then I saw, That which methinks I see, it was the duke; Whom straight the nicer-stomach’d sea belch ’d up: But then——

_Mal._ Then came I in; but, ’las, all was too late! 50 For even straight he sunk.

_Pietro._ Such was the duke’s sad fate.

_Celso._ A better fortune to our Duke Mendoza!

_Omnes._ Mendoza! _Cornets flourish._

_Men._ A guard, a guard! _Enter a_ Guard. We, full of hearty tears, For our good father’s loss, 55 (For so we well may call him Who did beseech your loves for our succession), Cannot so lightly over-jump his death As leave his woes revengeless.—(_To_ AURELIA.) Woman of shame, We banish thee for ever to the place 60 From whence this good man comes; nor permit, On death, unto thy body any ornament; But, base as was thy life, depart away.

_Aur._ Ungrateful!

_Men._ Away! 65

_Aur._ Villain, hear me!

PREPASSO _and_ GUERRINO _lead away_ AURELIA.

_Men._ Begone! My lords, Address to[2743] public council; ’t is most fit: The train of fortune is borne up by wit. Away! our presence shall be sudden; haste. 70 _All depart saving_ MENDOZA, MALEVOLE, _and_ PIETRO.

_Mal._ Now, you egregious devil! Ha, ye murdering politician! How dost, duke? How dost look now? Brave duke, i’ faith.

_Men._ How did you kill him?

_Mal._ Slatted his brains out, then soused him in the briny sea. 76

_Men._ Brained him, and drowned him too?

_Mal._ O ’t was best, sure work; for he that strikes a great man, let him strike home, or else ’ware, he’ll prove no man. Shoulder not 80 a huge fellow, unless you may be sure to lay him in the kennel.

_Men._ A most sound brain-pan! I’ll make you both emperors.

_Mal._ Make us Christians, make us Christians.

_Men._ I’ll hoist ye, ye shall mount. 86

_Mal._ To the gallows, say ye? Come: _praemium incertum petit, certum scelus_.[2744] How stands the progress?

_Men._ Here, take my ring unto the citadel; 90 [_Giving ring._] Have entrance to Maria, the grave duchess Of banish’d Altofront. Tell her we love her; Omit no circumstance to grace our person: do ’t.

_Mal._ I’ll make an excellent pander: duke, farewell; ’dieu, adieu, duke. 95

_Men._ Take Maquerelle with thee; for ’t is found None cuts a diamond but a diamond. _Exit_ MALEVOLE. Hermit, Thou art a man for me, my confessor: O thou selected spirit, born for my good, Sure thou wouldst make 100 An excellent elder in a deform’d church. Come, we must be inward,[2745] thou and I all one.

_Pietro._ I am glad I was ordained for ye.

_Men._ Go to, then; thou must know that Malevole is a strange villain; dangerous, very (105) dangerous: you see how broad ’a speaks; a gross-jawed rogue. I would have thee poison him: he’s like a corn upon my great toe, I cannot go for him; he must be cored out, he must. Wilt do ’t, ha? 110

_Pietro._ Anything, anything.

_Men._ Heart of my life! thus, then. To the citadel; Thou shalt consort with this Malevole; There being at supper, poison him. It shall be laid Upon Maria, who yields love or dies. 115 Send quick.

_Pietro._ Like lightning: good deeds crawl, but mischief flies. _Exit._

_Re-enter_ MALEVOLE.

_Mal._ Your devilship’s ring has no virtue: the buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon-faced zaza cries, “Stand out!” must have a stiffer warrant, or no pass into the castle (121) of comfort.

_Men._ Command our sudden letter.—Not enter! sha’t: what place is there in Genoa but thou shalt? Into my heart, into my very heart: come, let’s love: we must love, we two, soul (125) and body.

_Mal._ How didst like the hermit? A strange hermit, sirrah.

_Men._ A dangerous fellow, very perilous. He must die. 131

_Mal._ Ay, he must die.

_Men._ Thou’st kill him. We are wise; we must be wise.

_Mal._ And provident. 135

_Men._ Yea, provident: beware an hypocrite; A churchman once corrupted. O, avoid! A fellow that makes religion his stalking-horse.[2746] He breeds a plague. Thou shalt poison him.

_Mal._ O, ’tis wondrous necessary: how? 140

_Men._ You both go jointly to the citadel; There sup, there poison him: and Maria, Because she is our opposite,[2747] shall bear The sad suspect; on which she dies or loves us.

_Mal._ I run. _Exit._

_Men._ We that are great, our sole self-good still moves us. 146 They shall die both, for their deserts crave more Than we can recompense: their presence still Imbraids[2748] our fortunes with beholdingness, Which we abhor; like deed, not doer: then conclude, 150 They live not to cry out “Ingratitude!” One stick burns t’ other, steel cuts steel alone: ’Tis good trust few; but, O, ’tis best trust none! _Exit._