The Duchess of Malfi

you love him

Above the world. Come, I’ll love you wisely,

That’s jealously; since I am very certain

You cannot make me cuckold.

Julia

I’ll go home

To my husband.



Cardinal

You may thank me, lady,

I have taken you off your melancholy perch,

Bore you upon my fist, and show’d you game,

And let you fly at it.⁠—I pray thee, kiss me.⁠—

When thou wast with thy husband, thou wast watch’d

Like a tame elephant:⁠—still you are to thank me:⁠—

Thou hadst only kisses from him and high feeding;

But what delight was that? ’Twas just like one

That hath a little fing’ring on the lute,

Yet cannot tune it:⁠—still you are to thank me.



Julia

You told me of a piteous wound i’ th’ heart,

And a sick liver, when you woo’d me first,

And spake like one in physic. 57



Cardinal

Who’s that?⁠—




Enter Servant.




Rest firm, for my affection to thee,

Lightning moves slow to’t.



Servant

Madam, a gentleman,

That’s come post from Malfi, desires to see you.



Cardinal

Let him enter: I’ll withdraw.




Exit.


Servant

He says

Your husband, old Castruccio, is come to Rome,

Most pitifully tir’d with riding post.




Exit.



Enter Delio.


Julia

Aside. Signior Delio! ’tis one of my old suitors.



Delio

I was bold to come and see you.



Julia

Sir, you are welcome.



Delio

Do you lie here?



Julia

Sure, your own experience

Will satisfy you no: our Roman prelates

Do not keep lodging for ladies.



Delio

Very well:

I have brought you no commendations from your husband,

For I know none by him.



Julia

I hear he’s come to Rome.



Delio

I never knew man and beast, of a horse and a knight,

So weary of each other. If he had had a good back,

He would have undertook to have borne his horse,

His breech was so pitifully sore.



Julia

Your laughter

Is my pity.



Delio

Lady, I know not whether

You want money, but I have brought you some.



Julia

From my husband?



Delio

No, from mine own allowance.



Julia

I must hear the condition, ere I be bound to take it.



Delio

Look on’t, ’tis gold; hath it not a fine colour?



Julia

I have a bird more beautiful.



Delio

Try the sound on’t.



Julia

A lute-string far exceeds it.

It hath no smell, like cassia or civet;

Nor is it physical, 58 though some fond doctors

Persuade us seethe’t in cullises. 59 I’ll tell you,

This is a creature bred by⁠—




Re-enter Servant.


Servant

Your husband’s come,

Hath deliver’d a letter to the Duke of Calabria

That, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits.




Exit.


Julia

Sir, you hear:

Pray, let me know your business and your suit

As briefly as can be.



Delio

With good speed: I would wish you,

At such time as you are nonresident

With your husband, my mistress.



Julia

Sir, I’ll go ask my husband if I shall,

And straight return your answer.




Exit.


Delio

Very fine!

Is this her wit, or honesty, that speaks thus?

I heard one say the duke was highly mov’d

With a letter sent from Malfi. I do fear

Antonio is betray’d. How fearfully

Shows his ambition now! Unfortunate fortune!

They pass through whirlpools, and deep woes do shun,

Who the event weigh ere the action’s done.




Exit.


Scene V
Another apartment in the same palace.




Enter Cardinal and Ferdinand with a letter.


Ferdinand

I have this night digg’d up a mandrake. 60



Cardinal

Say you?



Ferdinand

And I am grown mad with’t.



Cardinal

What’s the prodigy?



Ferdinand

Read there⁠—a sister damn’d: she’s loose i’ the hilts; 61

Grown a notorious strumpet.



Cardinal

Speak lower.



Ferdinand

Lower!

Rogues do not whisper’t now, but seek to publish’t

(As servants do the bounty of their lords)

Aloud; and with a covetous searching eye,

To mark who note them. O, confusion seize her!

She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her turn,

And more secure conveyances for lust

Than towns of garrison for service.



Cardinal

Is’t possible?

Can this be certain?



Ferdinand

Rhubarb, O, for rhubarb

To purge this choler! Here’s the cursed day

To prompt my memory; and here’t shall stick

Till of her bleeding heart I make a sponge

To wipe it out.



Cardinal

Why do you make yourself

So wild a tempest?



Ferdinand

Would I could be one,

That I might toss her palace ’bout her ears,

Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads,

And lay her general territory as waste

As she hath done her honours.



Cardinal

Shall our blood,

The royal blood of Arragon and Castile,

Be thus attainted?



Ferdinand

Apply desperate physic:

We must not now use balsamum, but fire,

The smarting cupping-glass, for that’s the mean

To purge infected blood, such blood as hers.

There is a kind of pity in mine eye⁠—

I’ll give it to my handkercher; and now ’tis here,

I’ll bequeath this to her bastard.



Cardinal

What to do?



Ferdinand

Why, to make soft lint for his mother’s wounds,

When I have hew’d her to pieces.



Cardinal

Curs’d creature!

Unequal nature, to place women’s hearts

So far upon the left side! 62



Ferdinand

Foolish men,

That e’er will trust their honour in a bark

Made of so slight weak bulrush as is woman,

Apt every minute to sink it!



Cardinal

Thus ignorance, when it hath purchas’d honour,

It cannot wield it.



Ferdinand

Methinks I see her laughing⁠—

Excellent hyena! Talk to me somewhat quickly,

Or my imagination will carry me

To see her in the shameful act of sin.



Cardinal

With whom?



Ferdinand

Happily with some strong-thigh’d bargeman,

Or one o’ th’ wood-yard that can quoit the sledge 63

Or toss the bar, or else some lovely squire

That carries coals up to her privy lodgings.



Cardinal

You fly beyond your reason.



Ferdinand

Go to, mistress!

’Tis not your whore’s milk that shall quench my wildfire,

But your whore’s blood.



Cardinal

How idly shows this rage, which carries you,

As men convey’d by witches through the air,

On violent whirlwinds! This intemperate noise

Fitly resembles deaf men’s shrill discourse,

Who talk aloud, thinking all other men

To have their imperfection.



Ferdinand

Have not you

My palsy?



Cardinal

Yes, [but] I can be angry

Without