SCENE II.[3724

_Enter_ DUCHESS, ANTONIO, _and_ CARIOLA.

_Duch._ Bring me the casket hither, and the glass.— You get no lodging here to-night, my lord.

_Ant._ Indeed, I must persuade one.

_Duch._ Very good: I hope in time ’t will grow into a custom, That noblemen shall come with cap and knee 5 To purchase a night’s lodging of their wives.

_Ant._ I must lie here.

_Duch._ Must! You are a lord of mis-rule.

_Ant._ Indeed, my rule is only in the night.

_Duch._ To what use will you put me?

_Ant._ We ’ll sleep together.

_Duch._ Alas, what pleasure can two lovers find in sleep? 10

_Cari._ My lord, I lie with her often, and I know She ’ll much disquiet you.

_Ant._ See, you are complain’d of.

_Cari._ For she’s the sprawling’st bedfellow.

_Ant._ I shall like her the better for that.

_Cari._ Sir, shall I ask you a question? 15

_Ant._ I pray thee, Cariola.

_Cari._ Wherefore still when you lie with my lady Do you rise so early?

_Ant._ Labouring men Count the clock oft’nest, Cariola, Are glad when their task’s ended.

_Duch._ I ’ll stop your mouth. [_Kisses him._] 20

_Ant._ Nay, that ’s but one; Venus had two soft doves To draw her chariot; I must have another.— [_She kisses him again._] When wilt thou marry, Cariola?

_Cari._ Never, my lord.

_Ant._ O, fie upon this single life! forgo it. We read how Daphne, for her peevish [flight,][3725] Became a fruitless bay-tree; Syrinx turn’d 26 To the pale empty reed; Anaxarete Was frozen into marble: whereas those Which married, or prov’d kind unto their friends, Were by a gracious influence trans-shap’d 30 Into the olive, pomegranate, mulberry, Became flowers, precious stones, or eminent stars.

_Cari._ This is a vain poetry: but I pray you, tell me, If there were propos’d me, wisdom, riches, and beauty, In three several young men, which should I choose? 35

_Ant._ ’T is a hard question. This was Paris’ case, And he was blind in ’t, and there was a great cause; For how was ’t possible he could judge right, Having three amorous goddesses in view, And they stark naked? ’T was a motion 40 Were able to benight the apprehension Of the severest counsellor of Europe. Now I look on both your faces so well form’d, It puts me in mind of a question I would ask.

_Cari._ What is ’t?

_Ant._ I do wonder why hard-favour’d ladies, For the most part, keep worse-favour’d waiting-women 46 To attend them, and cannot endure fair ones.

_Duch._ O, that ’s soon answer’d. Did you ever in your life know an ill painter Desire to have his dwelling next door to the shop 50 Of an excellent picture-maker? ’T would disgrace His face-making, and undo him. I prithee, When were we so merry? My hair tangles.

_Ant._ Pray thee, Cariola, let’s steal forth the room, And let her talk to herself: I have divers times Serv’d her the like, when she hath chaf’d extremely. 56 I love to see her angry. Softly, Cariola. _Exeunt_ [ANTONIO _and_ CARIOLA].

_Duch._ Doth not the colour of my hair ’gin to change? When I wax gray, I shall have all the court Powder their hair with arras,[3726] to be like me. 60 You have cause to love me; I ent’red you into my heart [_Enter_ FERDINAND _unseen_.] Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys. We shall one day have my brothers take you napping. Methinks his presence, being now in court, Should make you keep your own bed; but you ’ll say 65 Love mixt with fear is sweetest. I ’ll assure you, You shall get no more children till my brothers Consent to be your gossips. Have you lost your tongue? ’Tis welcome: 69 For know, whether I am doom’d to live or die, I can do both like a prince.

_Ferd._ Die, then, quickly. _Giving her a poniard_. Virtue, where art thou hid? What hideous thing Is it that doth eclipse thee?

_Duch._ Pray, sir, hear me.

_Ferd._ Or is it true thou art but a bare name, And no essential thing?

_Duch._ Sir——

_Ferd._ Do not speak. 75

_Duch._ No, sir: I will plant my soul in mine ears, to hear you.

_Ferd._ O most imperfect light of human reason, That mak’st [us] so unhappy to foresee What we can least prevent! Pursue thy wishes, And glory in them: there ’s in shame no comfort 81 But to be past all bounds and sense of shame.

_Duch._ I pray, sir, hear me: I am married.

_Ferd._ So!

_Duch._ Happily, not to your liking: but for that, Alas, your shears do come untimely now 85 To clip the bird’s wings that ’s already flown! Will you see my husband?

_Ferd._ Yes, if I could change Eyes with a basilisk.

_Duch._ Sure, you came hither By his confederacy.

_Ferd._ The howling of a wolf 89 Is music to thee, screech-owl: prithee, peace.— Whate’er thou art that hast enjoy’d my sister, For I am sure thou hear’st me, for thine own sake Let me not know thee. I came hither prepar’d To work thy discovery; yet am now persuaded It would beget such violent effects 95 As would damn us both. I would not for ten millions I had beheld thee: therefore use all means I never may have knowledge of thy name; Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life, On that condition.—And for thee, vild woman, If thou do wish thy lecher may grow old 101 In thy embracements, I would have thee build Such a room for him as our anchorites To holier use inhabit. Let not the sun Shine on him till he ’s dead; let dogs and monkeys 105 Only converse with him, and such dumb things To whom nature denies use to sound his name; Do not keep a paraquito, lest she learn it; If thou do love him, cut out thine own tongue, Lest it bewray him.

_Duch._ Why might not I marry? 110 I have not gone about in this to create Any new world or custom.

_Ferd._ Thou art undone; And thou hast ta’en that massy sheet of lead That hid thy husband’s bones, and folded it About my heart.

_Duch._ Mine bleeds for ’t.

_Ferd._ Thine! thy heart! 115 What should I name ’t, unless a hollow bullet Fill’d with unquenchable wild-fire?

_Duch._ You are in this Too strict; and were you not my princely brother, I would say, too wilful: my reputation Is safe.

_Ferd._ Dost thou know what reputation is? I ’ll tell thee,—to small purpose, since th’ instruction 121 Comes now too late. Upon a time Reputation, Love, and Death, Would travel o’er the world; and it was concluded That they should part, and take three several ways. 125 Death told them, they should find him in great battles, Or cities plagu’d with plagues; Love gives them counsel To inquire for him ’mongst unambitious shepherds, Where dowries were not talk’d of and sometimes ’Mongst quiet kindred that had nothing left 130 By their dead parents: ’Stay,’ quoth Reputation, ’Do not forsake me; for it is my nature, If once I part from any man I meet, I am never found again.’ And so for you: You have shook hands with Reputation, 135 And made him invisible. So, fare you well: I will never see you more.

_Duch._ Why should only I, Of all the other princes of the world, Be cas’d up, like a holy relic? I have youth And a little beauty.

_Ferd._ So you have some virgins 140 That are witches. I will never see thee more. _Exit._

_Re-enter_ ANTONIO _with a pistol_, [_and_ CARIOLA.]

_Duch._ You saw this apparition?

_Ant._ Yes: we are Betray’d. How came he hither? I should turn This to thee, for that.

_Cari._ Pray, sir, do; and when That you have cleft my heart, you shall read there 145 Mine innocence.

_Duch._ That gallery gave him entrance.

_Ant._ I would this terrible thing would come again, That, standing on my guard, I might relate My warrantable love.— (_She shows the poniard._) Ha! what means this?

_Duch._ He left this with me.

_Ant._ And it seems did wish 150 You would use it on yourself.

_Duch._ His action seem’d To intend so much.

_Ant._ This hath a handle to ’t, As well as a point: turn it towards him, and So fasten the keen edge in his rank gall. [_Knocking within._] How now! who knocks? More earthquakes?

_Duch._ I stand 155 As if a mine beneath my feet were ready To be blown up.

_Cari._ ’T is Bosola.

_Duch._ Away! O misery! methinks unjust actions Should wear these masks and curtains, and not we. You must instantly part hence: I have fashion’d it already. 160 _Exit_ ANTONIO.

[_Enter_ BOSOLA.]

_Bos._ The duke your brother is ta’en up in a whirlwind; Hath took horse, and ’s rid post to Rome.

_Duch._ So late?

_Bos._ He told me, as he mounted into th’ saddle, You were undone.

_Duch._ Indeed, I am very near it.

_Bos._ What’s the matter? 165

_Duch._ Antonio, the master of our household, Hath dealt so falsely with me in ’s accounts. My brother stood engag’d with me for money Ta’en up of certain Neapolitan Jews, And Antonio lets the bonds be forfeit. 170

_Bos._ Strange!—[_Aside._] This is cunning.

_Duch._ And hereupon My brother’s bills at Naples are protested Against.—Call up our officers.

_Bos._ I shall. _Exit._

[_Re-enter_ ANTONIO.]

_Duch._ The place that you must fly to is Ancona: Hire a house there; I ’ll send after you 175 My treasure and my jewels. Our weak safety Runs upon enginous wheels:[3727] short syllables Must stand for periods. I must now accuse you Of such a feigned crime as Tasso calls _Magnanima menzogna_, a noble lie, 180 ’Cause it must shield our honours.—Hark! they are coming.

[_Re-enter_ BOSOLA _and_ Officers.]

_Ant._ Will your grace hear me?

_Duch._ I have got well by you; you have yielded me A million of loss: I am like to inherit The people’s curses for your stewardship. 185 You had the trick in audit-time to be sick, Till I had sign’d your quietus;[3728] and that cur’d you Without help of a doctor.—Gentlemen, I would have this man be an example to you all; So shall you hold my favour; I pray, let him; For h’as done that, alas, you would not think of, 191 And, because I intend to be rid of him, I mean not to publish.—Use your fortune elsewhere.

_Ant._ I am strongly arm’d to brook my overthrow, As commonly men bear with a hard year. 195 I will not blame the cause on ’t; but do think The necessity of my malevolent star Procures this, not her humour. O, the inconstant And rotten ground of service! You may see, ’T is even like him, that in a winter night, 200 Takes a long slumber o’er a dying fire, A-loth to part from ’t; yet parts thence as cold As when he first sat down.

_Duch._ We do confiscate, Towards the satisfying of your accounts, All that you have.

_Ant._ I am all yours; and ’t is very fit 205 All mine should be so.

_Duch._ So, sir, you have your pass.

_Ant._ You may see, gentlemen, what ’t is to serve A prince with body and soul. _Exit._

_Bos._ Here ’s an example for extortion: what moisture is drawn out of the sea, when foul (210) weather comes, pours down, and runs into the sea again.

_Duch._ I would know what are your opinions Of this Antonio. 214

_2 Off._ He could not abide to see a pig’s head gaping: I thought your grace would find him a Jew.

_3 Off._ I would you had been his officer, for your own sake.

_4 Off._ You would have had more money. 220

_1 Off._ He stopp’d his ears with black wool, and to those came to him for money said he was thick of hearing.

_2 Off._ Some said he was an hermaphrodite, for he could not abide a woman. 225

_4 Off._ How scurvy proud he would look when the treasury was full! Well, let him go.

_1 Off._ Yes, and the chippings of the buttery fly after him, to scour his gold chain.[3729] 229

_Duch._ Leave us.—— _Exeunt_ [Officers]. What do you think of these?

_Bos._ That these are rogues that in ’s prosperity, But to have waited on his fortune, could have wish’d His dirty stirrup riveted through their noses, And follow’d after ’s mule, like a bear in a ring; 235 Would have prostituted their daughters to his lust; Made their first-born intelligencers;[3730] thought none happy But such as were born under his blest planet, And wore his livery: and do these lice drop off now? Well, never look to have the like again: 240 He hath left a sort[3731] of flatt’ring rogues behind him; Their doom must follow. Princes pay flatterers In their own money: flatterers dissemble their vices, And they dissemble their lies; that ’s justice. Alas, poor gentleman! 245

_Duch._ Poor! he hath amply fill’d his coffers.

_Bos._ Sure, he was too honest. Pluto,[3732] the god of riches, When he ’s sent by Jupiter to any man, He goes limping, to signify that wealth That comes on God’s name comes slowly; but when he ’s sent 250 On the devil’s errand, he rides post and comes in by scuttles.[3733] Let me show you what a most unvalu’d jewel You have in a wanton humour thrown away, To bless the man shall find him. He was an excellent Courtier and most faithful; a soldier that thought it 255 As beastly to know his own value too little As devilish to acknowledge it too much. Both his virtue and form deserv’d a far better fortune: His discourse rather delighted to judge itself than show itself: His breast was fill’d with all perfection, 260 And yet it seem’d a private whisp’ring-room, It made so little noise of ’t.

_Duch._ But he was basely descended.

_Bos._ Will you make yourself a mercenary herald, Rather to examine men’s pedigrees than virtues? 265 You shall want[3734] him: For know an honest statesman to a prince Is like a cedar planted by a spring; The spring bathes the tree’s root, the grateful tree Rewards it with his shadow: you have not done so. 270 I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes on Two politicians’ rotten bladders, tied Together with an intelligencer’s heart-string, Than depend on so changeable a prince’s favour. Fare thee well, Antonio! Since the malice of the world 275 Would needs down with thee, it cannot be said yet That any ill happen’d unto thee, considering thy fall Was accompanied with virtue.

_Duch._ O, you render me excellent music!

_Bos._ Say you?

_Duch._ This good one that you speak of is my husband. 280

_Bos._ Do I not dream? Can this ambitious age Have so much goodness in ’t as to prefer A man merely for worth, without these shadows Of wealth and painted honours? Possible?

_Duch._ I have had three children by him.

_Bos._ Fortunate lady! 285 For you have made your private nuptial bed The humble and fair seminary of peace, No question but: many an unbenefic’d scholar Shall pray for you for this deed, and rejoice That some preferment in the world can yet 290 Arise from merit. The virgins of your land That have no dowries shall hope your example Will raise them to rich husbands. Should you want Soldiers, ’t would make the very Turks and Moors Turn Christians, and serve you for this act. 295 Last, the neglected poets of your time, In honour of this trophy of a man, Rais’d by that curious engine, your white hand, Shall thank you in your grave for ’t, and make that More reverend than all the cabinets 300 Of living princes. For Antonio, His fame shall likewise flow from many a pen, When heralds shall want coats to sell to men.

_Duch._ As I taste comfort in this friendly speech, So would I find concealment. 305

_Bos._ O, the secret of my prince, Which I will wear on th’ inside of my heart!

_Duch._ You shall take charge of all my coin and jewels, And follow him; for he retires himself To Ancona.

_Bos._ So.

_Duch._ Whither, within few days, 310 I mean to follow thee.

_Bos._ Let me think: I would wish your grace to feign a pilgrimage To our Lady of Loretto, scarce seven leagues From fair Ancona; so may you depart Your country with more honour, and your flight Will seem a princely progress, retaining 316 Your usual train about you.

_Duch._ Sir, your direction Shall lead me by the hand.

_Cari._ In my opinion, She were better progress to the baths at Lucca, Or go visit the Spa 320 In Germany; for, if you will believe me, I do not like this jesting with religion, This feigned pilgrimage.

_Duch._ Thou art a superstitious fool: Prepare us instantly for our departure. 325 Past sorrows, let us moderately lament them, For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them. [_Exeunt_ DUCHESS _and_ CARIOLA.]

_Bos._ A politician is the devil’s quilted anvil; He fashions all sins on him, and the blows Are never heard: he may work in a lady’s chamber, 330 As here for proof. What rests[3735] but I reveal All to my lord? O, this base quality[3736] Of intelligencer! Why, every quality i’ th’ world Prefers but gain or commendation: Now, for this act I am certain to be rais’d, 335 And men that paint weeds to the life are prais’d. _Exit._