SCENE I._--A Room in the Lodge. The_ DUKE'S _corpse, dressed in

VENDICE'S _disguise, lying on a couch._

_Enter_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO.

_Ven._ So, so, he leans well; take heed you wake him not, brother.

_Hip._ I warrant you my life for yours.

_Ven._ That's a good lay, for I must kill myself. Brother, that's I, that sits for me: do you mark it? And I must stand ready here to make away myself yonder. I must sit to be killed, and stand to kill myself. I could vary it not so little as thrice over again; 't has some eight returns, like Michaelmas term.[229]

_Hip._ That's enow, o' conscience.

_Ven._ But, sirrah, does the duke's son come single?

_Hip._ No; there's the hell on't: his faith's too feeble to go alone. He brings flesh-flies after him, that will buzz against supper-time, and hum for his coming out.

_Ven._ Ah, the fly-flap of vengeance beat 'em to pieces! Here was the sweetest occasion, the fittest hour, to have made my revenge familiar with him; show him the body of the duke his father, and how quaintly he died, like a politician, in hugger-mugger,[230] made no man acquainted with it; and in catastrophe slay him over his father's breast. O, I'm mad to lose such a sweet opportunity!

_Hip._ Nay, tush! prythee, be content! there's no remedy present; may not hereafter times open in as fair faces as this?

_Ven._ They may, if they can paint so well.

_Hip._ Come now: to avoid all suspicion, let's forsake this room, and be going to meet the duke's son.

_Ven._ Content: I'm for any weather. Heart! step close: here he comes.

_Enter_ LUSSURIOSO.

_Hip._ My honoured lord!

_Lus._ O me! you both present?

_Ven._ E'en newly, my lord, just as your lordship entered now: about this place we had notice given he should be, but in some loathsome plight or other.

_Hip._ Came your honour private?

_Lus._ Private enough for this; only a few Attend my coming out.

_Hip._ Death rot those few! [_Aside._

_Lus._ Stay, yonder's the slave.

_Ven._ Mass, there's the slave, indeed, my lord. 'Tis a good child: he calls his father a slave! [_Aside._

_Lus._ Ay, that's the villain, the damned villain. Softly. Tread easy.

_Ven._ Pah! I warrant you, my lord, we'll stifle in our breaths.

_Lus._ That will do well: Base rogue, thou sleepest thy last; 'tis policy To have him killed in's sleep; for if he waked, He would betray all to them.

_Ven._ But, my lord--

_Lus._ Ha, what say'st?

_Ven._ Shall we kill him now he's drunk?

_Lus._ Ay, best of all.

_Ven._ Why, then he will ne'er live to be sober.

_Lus._ No matter, let him reel to hell.

_Ven._ But being so full of liquor, I fear he will put out all the fire.

_Lus._ Thou art a mad beast.

_Ven._ And leave none to warm your lordship's golls[231] withal; for he that dies drunk falls into hell-fire like a bucket of water--qush, qush!

_Lus._ Come, be ready: nake[232] your swords: think of your wrongs; this slave has injured you.

_Ven._ Troth, so he has, and he has paid well for't.

_Lus._ Meet with him now.

_Ven._ You'll bear us out, my lord?

_Lus._ Pooh! am I a lord for nothing, think you? quickly now!

_Ven._ Sa, sa, sa, thump [_Stabs the_ DUKE'S _corpse_]--there he lies.

_Lus._ Nimbly done.--Ha! O villains! murderers! 'Tis the old duke, my father.

_Ven._ That's a jest.

_Lus._ What stiff and cold already! O, pardon me to call you from your names: 'Tis none of your deed. That villain Piato, Whom you thought now to kill, has murdered And left him thus disguised.

_Hip._ And not unlikely.

_Ven._ O rascal! was he not ashamed To put the duke into a greasy doublet?

_Lus._ He has been stiff and cold--who knows how long?

_Ven._ Marry, that I do. [_Aside._

_Lus._ No words, I pray, of anything intended.

_Ven._ O my lord.

_Hip._ I would fain have your lordship think that we have small reason to prate.

_Lus._ Faith, thou say'st true; I'll forthwith send to court For all the nobles, bastard, duchess; tell, How here by miracle we found him dead, And in his raiment that foul villain fled.

_Ven._ That will be the best way, my lord, To clear us all; let's cast about to be clear.

_Lus._ Ho! Nencio, Sordido, and the rest!

_Enter all of them._

_1st Ser._ My lord.

_2nd Ser._ My lord.

_Lus._ Be witnesses of a strange spectacle. Choosing for private conference that sad room, We found the duke my father gealed in blood.

_1st Ser._ My lord the duke! run, hie thee, Nencio. Startle the court by signifying so much.

_Ven._ Thus much by wit a deep revenger can, When murder's known, to be the clearest man. We're farthest off, and with as bold an eye Survey his body as the standers-by. [_Aside._

_Lus._ My royal father, too basely let blood By a malevolent slave!

_Hip._ Hark! he calls thee slave again. [_Aside._

_Ven._ He has lost: he may. [_Aside._

_Lus._ O sight! look hither, see, his lips are gnawn With poison.

_Ven._ How! his lips? by the mass, they be. O villain! O rogue! O slave! O rascal!

_Hip._ O good deceit! he quits him with like terms. [_Aside._

_Amb._ [_Within._] Where?

_Sup._ [_Within._] Which way?

_Enter_ AMBITIOSO _and_ SUPERVACUO, _with_ Nobles _and_ Gentlemen.

_Amb._ Over what roof hangs this prodigious comet In deadly fire?

_Lus._ Behold, behold, my lords, the duke my father's murdered by a vassal that owes this habit, and here left disguised.

_Enter_ DUCHESS _and_ SPURIO.

_Duch._ My lord and husband!

_1st Noble._ Reverend majesty!

_2nd Noble._ I have seen these clothes often attending on him.

_Ven._ That nobleman has been' i' th' country, for he does not lie. [_Aside._

_Sup._ Learn of our mother; let's dissemble too: I am glad he's vanished; so, I hope, are you.

_Amb._ Ay, you may take my word for't.

_Spu._ Old dad dead! I, one of his cast sins, will send the Fates Most hearty commendations by his own son; I'll tug in the new stream, till strength be done.

_Lus._ Where be those two that did affirm to us, My lord the duke was privately rid forth?

_1st Gent._ O, pardon us, my lords; he gave that charge-- Upon our lives, if he were missed at court, To answer so; he rode not anywhere; We left him private with that fellow here.

_Ven._ Confirmed. [_Aside._

_Lus._ O Heavens! that false charge was his death. Impudent beggars! durst you to our face Maintain such a false answer? Bear him straight To execution.

_1st Gent._ My lord!

_Lus._ Urge me no more in this! The excuse may be called half the murder.

_Ven._ You've sentenced well. [_Aside._

_Lus._ Away; see it be done.

_Ven._ Could you not stick? See what confession doth! Who would not lie, when men are hanged for truth? [_Aside._

_Hip._ Brother, how happy is our vengeance! [_Aside._

_Ven._ Why, it hits past the apprehension of Indifferent wits. [_Aside._

_Lus._ My lord, let post-horses be sent Into all places to entrap the villain.

_Ven._ Post-horses, ha, ha! [_Aside._

_1st Noble._ My lord, we're something bold to know our duty. Your father's accidentally departed; The titles that were due to him meet you.

_Lus._ Meet me! I'm not at leisure, my good lord. I've many griefs to despatch out o' the way. Welcome, sweet titles!--[_Aside._ Talk to me, my lords, Of sepulchres and mighty emperors' bones; That's thought for me.

_Ven._ So one may see by this How foreign markets go; Courtiers have feet o' the nines, and tongues o' the twelves; They flatter dukes, and dukes flatter themselves. [_Aside._

_2nd Noble._ My lord, it is your shine must comfort us.

_Lus._ Alas! I shine in tears, like the sun in April.

_1st Noble._ You're now my lord's grace.

_Lus._ My lord's grace! I perceive you'll have it so.

_2nd Noble._ 'Tis but your own.

_Lus._ Then, Heavens, give me grace to be so!

_Ven._ He prays well for himself. [_Aside_.

_1st Noble._ Madam, all sorrows Must run their circles into joys. No doubt but time Will make the murderer bring forth himself.

_Ven._ He were an ass then, i' faith. [_Aside_.

_1st Noble._ In the mean season, Let us bethink the latest funeral honours Due to the duke's cold body. And withal, Calling to memory our new happiness Speed in his royal son: lords, gentlemen, Prepare for revels.

_Ven._ Revels! [_Aside._

_1st Noble._ Time hath several falls. Griefs lift up joys: feasts put down funerals.

_Lus._ Come then, my lords, my favour's to you all. The duchess is suspected foully bent; I'll begin dukedom with her banishment. [_Aside._ [_Exeunt_ LUSSURIOSO, DUCHESS, _and_ Nobles.

_Hip._ Revels!

_Ven._ Ay, that's the word: we are firm yet; Strike one strain more, and then we crown our wit. [_Exeunt_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO.

_Spu._ Well, have at the fairest mark--so said the duke when he begot me; And if I miss his heart, or near about, Then have at any; a bastard scorns to be out. [_Exit._

_Sup._ Notest thou that Spurio, brother?

_Ant._ Yes, I note him to our shame.

_Sup._ He shall not live: his hair shall not grow much longer. In this time of revels, tricks may be set afoot. Seest thou yon new moon? it shall outlive the new duke by much; this hand shall dispossess him. Then we're mighty.

A mask is treason's licence, that build upon: 'Tis murder's best face, when a vizard's on. [_Exit._

_Amb._ Is't so? 'tis very good! And do you think to be duke then, kind brother? I'll see fair play; drop one, and there lies t'other. [_Exit._