ACTUS III., SCÆNA 1.
Enter Ambitioso and Supervacuo.
Sup. Brother, let my opinion sway you once;
I speak it for the best, to have him die;
Surest and soonest, if the signet come
Unto the judge's hand, why then his doom
Will be deferr'd till sittings and court-days,
Juries, and farther. Faiths are bought and sold;
Oaths in these days are but the skin of gold.
Amb. In troth, 'tis true too,
Sup. Then let's set by the judges,
And fall to the officers; 'tis but mistaking
The duke our father's meaning; and where he nam'd
Ere many days—'tis but forgetting that,
And have him die i' th' morning.
Amb. Excellent!
Then am I heir! duke in a minute!
Sup. [Aside.] Nay,
And he were once puff'd out, here is a pin
Should quickly prick your bladder.
Amb. Bless'd occasion!
He being pack'd, we'll have some trick and wile
To wind our younger brother out of prison,
That lies in for the rape. The lady's dead,
And people's thoughts will soon be buried.
Sup. We may with safety do't, and live and feed:
The duchess' sons are too proud to bleed.
Amb. We are, i' faith, to say true—come let's not linger:
I'll to the officers; go you before,
And set an edge upon the executioner.
Sup. Let me alone to grind him. [Exit.
Amb. Farewell!
I am next now; I rise just in that place,
Where thou'rt out off; upon thy neck, kind brother;
The falling of one head lifts up another. [Exit.
Enter, with the Nobles, Lusurioso from prison.
Lus. My lords, I am so much indebted to your loves
For this, O, this delivery—
1st Noble. But our duties, my lord, unto the hopes that grow in you.
Lus. If e'er I live to be myself, I'll thank you.
O liberty, thou sweet and heavenly dame!
But hell for prison is too mild a name. [Exeunt.
Enter Ambitioso and Supervacuo, with Officers.
Amb. Officers, here's the duke's signet, your firm warrant,
Brings the command of present death along with it
Unto our brother, the duke's son; we are sorry
That we are so unnaturally employ'd
In such an unkind office, fitter far
For enemies than brothers.
Sup. But, you know,
The duke's command must be obey'd.
1st Officer. It must and shall, my lord. This morning, then—
So suddenly?
Amb. Ay, alas! poor, good soul!
He must breakfast betimes; the executioner
Stands ready to put forth his cowardly valour.
2d Officer. Already?
Sup. Already, i' faith. O sir, destruction hies,
And that is least imprudent,[68] soonest dies.
1st Officer. Troth, you say true. My lord, we take our leaves:
Our office shall be sound; we'll not delay
The third part of a minute.
Amb. Therein you show
Yourselves good men and upright officers.
Pray, let him die as private as he may;
Do him that favour; for the gaping people
Will but trouble him at his prayers,
And make him curse and swear, and so die black.
Will you be so far kind?
1st Officer. It shall be done, my lord.
Amb. Why, we do thank you; if we live to be—
You shall have a better office.
2d Officer. Your good lordship—
Sup. Commend us to the scaffold in our tears.
1st Officer. We'll weep, and do your commendations. [Exeunt.
Amb. Fine fools in office!
Sup. Things fall out so fit!
Amb. So, happily come, brother! ere next clock,
His head will be made serve a bigger block.[69] [Exeunt.
Enter in prison Junior Brother and Keeper.
Jun. Keeper!
Keeper. My lord.
Jun. No news lately from our brothers?
Are they unmindful of us?
Keeper. My lord, a messenger came newly in,
And brought this from 'em.
Jun. Nothing but paper-comforts?
I look'd for my delivery before this,
Had they been worth their oaths.—Prythee, be from us.
[Exit Keeper.
Now what say you, forsooth? speak out, I pray.
[Reads the letter.] Brother, be of good cheer;
'Slud, it begins like a whore with good cheer.
Thou shalt not be long a prisoner.
Not five-and-thirty years, like a bankrupt—I think so.
We have thought upon a device to get thee out by a trick.
By a trick! pox o' your trick, an' it be so long a playing.
And so rest comforted, be merry, and expect it suddenly!
Be merry! hang merry, draw and quarter merry;
I'll be mad. Is't not strange that a man should lie-in a whole month for a woman? Well, we shall see how sudden our brothers will be in their promise. I must expect still a trick: I shall not be long a prisoner. How now, what news?
Enter Keeper.
Keeper. Bad news, my lord; I am discharged of you.
Jun. Slave! call'st thou that bad news? I thank you, brothers.
Keeper. My lord, 'twill prove so. Here come the officers,
Into whose hands I must commit you.
Jun. Ha, officers! what? why?
Enter Officers.
1st Officer. You must pardon us, my lord:
Our office must be sound: here is our warrant,
The signet from the duke; you must straight suffer.
Jun. Suffer! I'll suffer you to begone; I'll suffer you
To come no more; what would you have me suffer?
2d Officer. My lord, those words were better chang'd to prayers.
The time's but brief with you: prepare to die.
Jun. Sure, 'tis not so!
3d Officer. It is too true, my lord.
Jun. I tell you 'tis not; for the duke my father
Deferr'd me till next sitting; and I look,
E'en every minute, threescore times an hour,
For a release, a trick wrought by my brothers.
1st Officer. A trick, my lord! if you expect such comfort,
Your hope's as fruitless as a barren woman:
Your brothers were the unhappy messengers,
That brought this powerful token for your death.
Jun. My brothers? no, no.
2d Officer. 'Tis most true, my lord.
Jun. My brothers to bring a warrant for my death!
How strange this shows!
3d Officer. There's no delaying time.
Jun. Desire 'em hither: call 'em up—my brothers!
They shall deny it to your faces.
1st Officer. My lord,
They're far enough by this; at least at court;
And this most strict command they left behind 'em.
When grief swam in their eyes, they show'd like brothers,
Brimful of heavy sorrow—but the duke
Must have his pleasure.
Jun. His pleasure!
1st Officer. These were the last words, which my memory bears,
Commend us to the scaffold in our tears.
Jun. Pox dry their tears! what should I do with tears?
I hate 'em worse than any citizen's son
Can hate salt water. Here came a letter now,
New-bleeding from their pens, scarce stinted[70] yet:
Would I'd been torn in pieces when I tore it:
Look, you officious whoresons, words of comfort,
Not long a prisoner.
1st Officer. It says true in that, sir; for you must suffer presently.
Jun. A villainous Duns upon the letter,[71] knavish exposition!
Look you then here, sir: we'll get thee out by a trick, says he.
2d Officer. That may hold too, sir; for you know a trick is commonly four cards, which was meant by us four officers.
Jun. Worse and worse dealing.
1st Officer. The hour beckons us.
The headsman waits: lift up your eyes to heaven.
Jun. I thank you, faith; good pretty wholesome counsel!
I should look up to heaven, as you said,
Whilst he behind me cosens me of my head.
Ay, that's the trick.
3d Officer. You delay too long, my lord.
Jun. Stay, good authority's bastards; since I must,
Through brothers' perjury, die, O, let me venom
Their souls with curses.
3d Officer. Come, 'tis no time to curse.
Jun. Must I bleed then without respect of sign? well—
My fault was sweet sport, which the world approves,
I die for that which every woman loves. [Exeunt.
Enter Vendice and Hippolito.[72]
Ven. O, sweet, delectable, rare, happy, ravishing!
Hip. Why, what's the matter, brother?
Ven. O, 'tis able to make a man spring up and knock his forehead
Against yon silver ceiling.
Hip. Prythee, tell me;
Why may not I partake with you? you vow'd once
To give me share to every tragic thought.[73]
Ven. By th' mass, I think I did too;
Then I'll divide it to thee. The old duke,
Thinking my outward shape and inward heart
Are cut out of one piece (for he that prates his secrets,
His heart stands o' th' outside), hires me by price
To greet him with a lady
In some fit place, veil'd from the eyes o' th' court,
Some darken'd, blushless angle,[74] that is guilty
Of his forefathers' lust and great folks' riots;
To which I easily (to maintain my shape)
Consented, and did wish his impudent grace
To meet her here in this unsunned lodge,
Wherein 'tis night at noon: and here the rather
Because, unto the torturing of his soul,
The bastard and the duchess have appointed
Their meeting too in this luxurious circle;
Which most afflicting sight will kill his eyes,
Before we kill the rest of him.
Hip. 'Twill, i' faith! Most dreadfully digested!
I see not how you could have miss'd me, brother.
Ven. True; but the violence of my joy forgot it.
Hip. Ay, but where's that lady now?
Ven. O! at that word
I'm lost again; you cannot find me yet:
I'm in a throng of happy apprehensions.
He's suited for a lady; I have took care
For a delicious lip, a sparkling eye—
You shall be witness, brother:
Be ready; stand with your hat off. [Exit.
Hip. Troth, I wonder what lady it should be!
Yet 'tis no wonder, now I think again,
To have a lady stoop to a duke, that stoops unto his men.
'Tis common to be common through the world:
And there's more private common shadowing vices,
Than those who are known both by their names and prices.
'Tis part of my allegiance to stand bare
To the duke's concubine; and here she comes.
Enter Vendice, with the skull of his love dressed up in tires.
Ven. Madam, his grace will not be absent long.[75]
Secret! ne'er doubt us, madam; 'twill be worth
Three velvet gowns to your ladyship. Known!
Few ladies respect that disgrace: a poor thin shell!
'Tis the best grace you have to do it well.
I'll save your hand that labour: I'll unmask you!
Hip. Why, brother, brother!
Ven. Art thou beguil'd now? tut, a lady can,
As thus all hid, beguile a wiser man.
Have I not fitted the old surfeiter
With a quaint piece of beauty? Age and bare bone
Are e'er allied in action. Here's an eye,
Able to tempt a great man—to serve God:
A pretty hanging lip, that has forgot now to dissemble.
Methinks this mouth should make a swearer tremble;
A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em,
To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.
Here's a cheek keeps her colour, let the wind go whistle:
Spout, rain, we fear thee not: be hot or cold,
All's one with us; and is not he absurd,
Whose fortunes are upon their faces set,
That fear no other god but wind and wet?
Hip. Brother, you've spoke that right:
Is this the form that (living) shone so bright?
Ven. The very same.
And now methinks I could e'en chide myself
For doating on her beauty, though her death
Shall be reveng'd after no common action.
Does the silkworm expend her yellow labours
For thee? For thee does she undo herself?
Are lordships sold to maintain ladyships,
For the poor benefit of a bewitching minute?
Why does yon fellow falsify highways,
And put his life between the judge's lips:
To refine such a thing, keeps horse and men
To beat their valours for her?
Surely we are all mad people, and they
Whom we think are, are not: we mistake those;
'Tis we are mad in sense, they but in clothes.
Hip. Faith, and in clothes too we, give us our due.
Ven. Does every proud and self-affecting dame
Camphire her face for this, and grieve her maker
In sinful baths of milk, when many an infant starves
For her superfluous outside—all for this?
Who now bids twenty pounds a night? prepares
Music, perfumes, and sweetmeats? All are hush'd.
Thou may'st lie chaste now! it were fine, methinks,
To have thee seen at revels, forgetful feasts,
And unclean brothels: sure, 'twould fright the sinner,
And make him a good coward: put a reveller
Out of his antic amble,
And cloy an epicure with empty dishes.
Here might a scornful and ambitious woman
Look through and through herself. See, ladies, with false forms
You deceive men, but cannot deceive worms.
Now to my tragic business. Look you, brother,
I have not fashion'd this only for show
And useless property; no, it shall bear a part
E'en in its own revenge. This very skull,
Whose mistress the duke poison'd with this drug,
The mortal curse of the earth shall be reveng'd
In the like strain, and kiss his lips to death.
As much as the dumb thing can, he shall feel:
What fails in poison, we'll supply in steel.
Hip. Brother, I do applaud thy constant vengeance—
The quaintness of thy malice—above thought.
Ven. So, 'tis laid on [He poisons the lips of the skull]: now come and welcome, duke,
I have her for thee. I protest it, brother,
Methinks she makes almost as fair a sin,[76]
As some old gentlewoman in a periwig.
Hide thy face now for shame; thou hadst need have a mask now:
'Tis vain when beauty flows; but when it fleets,
This would become graves better than the streets.
Hip. You have my voice in that: hark, the duke's come.
Ven. Peace, let's observe what company he brings,
And how he does absent 'em; for you know
He'll wish all private. Brother, fall you back a little
With the bony lady.
Hip. That I will.
Ven. So, so; now nine years' vengeance crowd into a minute!
Enter Duke and Gentlemen.
Duke. You shall have leave to leave us, with this charge
Upon your lives, if we be missed by th' duchess
Or any of the nobles, to give out,
We're privately rid forth.
Ven. O happiness!
Duke. With some few honourable gentlemen, you may say—
You may name those that are away from court.
Gen. Your will and pleasure shall be done, my lord. [Exeunt.
Ven. Privately rid forth!
He strives to make sure work on't. Your good grace!
Duke. Piato, well-done, hast brought her! what lady is't?
Ven. Faith, my lord, a country lady, a little bashful at first, as most of them are; but after the first kiss, my lord, the worst is past with them. Your grace knows now what you have to do; she has somewhat a grave look with her—but—
Duke. I love that best; conduct her.
Ven. Have at all. [Aside.
Duke. In gravest looks the greatest faults seem less.
Give me that sin that's rob'd in holiness.
Ven. Back with the torch! brother, raise the perfumes.
Duke. How sweet can a duke breathe! Age has no fault.
Pleasure should meet in a perfumed mist.
Lady, sweetly encountered: I came from court,
I must be bold with you. O, what's this? O!
Ven. Royal villain! white devil!
Duke. O!
Ven. Brother, place the torch here, that his affrighted eyeballs
May start into those hollows. Duke, dost know
Yon dreadful vizard? View it well; 'tis the skull
Of Gloriana, whom thou poisonedst last.
Duke. O! 't has poisoned me.
Ven. Didst not know that till now?
Duke. What are you two?
Ven. Villains all three! the very ragged bone
Has been sufficiently reveng'd.
Duke. O, Hippolito, call treason!
Hip. Yes, my lord; treason! treason! treason!
[Stamping on him.
Duke. Then I'm betray'd.
Ven. Alas! poor lecher: in the hands of kraves,
A slavish duke is baser than his slaves.
Duke. My teeth are eaten out.
Ven. Hadst any left?
Hip. I think but few.
Ven. Then those that did eat are eaten.
Ven. Your tongue? 'twill teach yon to kiss closer,
Not like a slobbering Dutchman. You have eyes still:
Look, monster, what a lady hast thou made me!
[Discovers himself.
My once betrothed wife.
Duke. Is it thou, villain? nay, then—
Ven. Tis I, 'tis Vendice, 'tis I.
Hip. And let this comfort thee: our lord and father
Fell sick upon the infection of thy frowns,
And died in sadness: be that thy hope of life.
Duke. O!
Ven. He had his tongue, yet grief made him die speechless.
Puh! 'tis but early yet; now I'll begin
To stick thy soul with ulcers. I will make
Thy spirit grievous sore; it shall not rest,
But like some pestilent man toss in thy breast.
Mark me, duke:
Thou'rt a renowned, high and mighty cuckold.
Duke. O!
Ven. Thy bastard—thy bastard rides a-hunting in thy brow.
Duke. Millions of deaths!
Ven. Nay, to afflict thee more,
Here in this lodge they meet for damned clips.[77]
Those eyes shall see the incest of their lips.
Duke. Is there a hell besides this, villains?
Ven. Villain!
Nay, heaven is just; scorns are the hires of scorns:
I ne'er knew yet adulterer without horns.
Hip. Once, ere they die, 'tis quitted.
Ven. Hark! the music:
Their banquet is prepar'd, they're coming—
Duke. O, kill me not with that sight!
Ven. Thou shalt not lose that sight for all thy dukedom.
Duke. Traitors! murderers!
Ven. What! is not thy tongue eaten out yet?
Then we'll invent a silence. Brother, stifle the torch.
Duke. Treason! murder!
Ven. Nay, faith, we'll have you hush'd. Now with thy dagger
Nail down his tongue, and mine shall keep possession
About his heart; if he but gasp, he dies;
We dread not death to quittance injuries.
Brother, if he but wink, not brooking the foul object,
Let our two other hands tear up his lids,
And make his eyes like comets shine through blood
When the bad bleeds, then is the tragedy good.
Hip. Whist, brother! music's at our ear; they come.
Enter the Bastard, meeting the Duchess.
Spu. Had not that kiss a taste of sin, 'twere sweet.
Duch. Why, there's no pleasure sweet, but it is sinful.
Spu. True, such a bitter sweetness fate hath given;
Best side to us is the worst side to heaven.
Duch. Pish! come: 'tis the old duke, thy doubtful father:
The thought of him rubs heaven in thy way.
But I protest by yonder waxen fire,
Forget him, or I'll poison him.
Spu. Madam, you urge a thought which ne'er had life.
So deadly do I loathe him for my birth,
That if he took me hasp'd within his bed,
I would add murder to adultery,
And with my sword give up his years to death.
Duch. Why, now thou'rt sociable; let's in and feast:
Loud'st music sound; pleasure is banquet's guest. [Exeunt.
Duke. I cannot brook—
Ven. The brook is turn'd to blood.
Hip. Thanks to loud music.
Ven. 'Twas our friend, indeed.
'Tis state in music for a duke to bleed.
The dukedom wants a head, though yet unknown;
As fast as they peep up, let's cut 'em down. [Exeunt.
Enter the Duchess's two sons, Ambitioso and Supervacuo.
Amb. Was not his execution rarely plotted?
We are the duke's sons now.
Sup. Ay, you may thank my policy for that.
Amb. Your policy for what?
Sup. Why, was't not my invention, brother,
To slip the judges? and in lesser compass
Did not I draw the model of his death;
Advising you to sudden officers
And e'en extemporal execution?
Amb. Heart! 'twas a thing I thought on too.
Sup. You thought on't too! 'sfoot, slander not your thoughts
With glorious untruth; I know 'twas from you.
Amb. Sir, I say, 'twas in my head.
Sup. Ay, like your brains then,
Ne'er to come out as long as you liv'd.
Amb. You'd have the honour on't, forsooth, that your wit
Led him to the scaffold.
Sup. Since it is my due,
I'll publish't, but I'll ha't in spite of you.
Amb. Methinks, y' are much too bold; you should a little
Remember us, brother, next to be honest duke.
Sup. Ay, it shall be as easy for you to be duke
As to be honest; and that's never, i' faith.
Amb. Well, cold he is by this time; and because
We're both ambitious, be it our amity,
And let the glory be shar'd equally.
Sup. I am content to that.
Amb. This night our younger brother shall out of prison:
I have a trick.
Sup. A trick! prythee, what is't?
Amb. We'll get him out by a wile.
Sup. Prythee, what wile?
Amb. No, sir; you shall not know it, till it be done;
For then you'd swear 'twere yours.
Enter an Officer.
Sup. How now, what's he?
Amb. One of the officers.
Sup. Desired news.
Amb. How now, my friend?
Officer. My lords, under your pardon, I am allotted
To that desertless office, to present you
With the yet bleeding head—
Sup. Ha, ha! excellent.
Amb. All's sure our own: brother, canst weep, think'st thou?
'Twould grace our flattery much; think of some dame:
'Twill teach thee to dissemble.
Sup. I have thought;—now for yourself.
Amb. Our sorrows are so fluent,
Our eyes o'erflow our tongues; words spoke in tears
Are like the murmurs of the waters—the sound
Is loudly heard, but cannot be distinguish'd.
Sup. How died he, pray?
Officer. O, full of rage and spleen.
Sup. He died most valiantly, then; we're glad to hear it.
Officer. We could not woo him once to pray.
Amb. He show'd himself a gentleman in that:
Give him his due.
Officer. But, in the stead of prayer,
He drew forth oaths.
Sup. Then did he pray, dear heart,
Although you understood him not?
Officer. My lords,
E'en at his last, with pardon be it spoke,
He curs'd you both.
Sup. He curs'd us? 'las, good soul!
Amb. It was not in our powers, but the duke's pleasure.
Finely dissembled a both sides, sweet fate;
O happy opportunity! [Aside.
Enter Lusurioso.
Lus. Now, my lords.
Both. O!———
Lus. Why do you shun me, brothers?
You may come nearer now;
The savour of the prison has forsook me.
I thank such kind lords as yourselves, I'm free.
Amb. Alive!
Amb. Releas'd!
We were both e'en amaz'd with joy to see it.[78]
Lus. I am much to thank to you.
Sup. Faith, we spar'd no tongue unto my lord the duke.
Amb. I know your delivery, brother,
Had not been half so sudden but for us.
Sup. O, how we pleaded!
Lus. Most deserving brothers!
In my best studies I will think of it. [Exit Lusurioso.
Amb. O death and vengeance!
Sup. Hell and torment!
Amb. Slave, cam'st thou to delude us?
Officer. Delude you, my lords?
Sup. Ay, villain, where's his head now?
Officer. Why here, my lord;
Just after his delivery, you both came
With warrant from the duke to behead your brother.
Amb. Ay, our brother, the duke's son.
Officer. The duke's son, my lord, had his release before you came.
Amb. Whose head's that, then?
Officer. His whom you left command for, your own brother's.
Amb. Our brother's? O furies!
Sup. Plagues!
Amb. Confusions!
Sup. Darkness!
Sup. Fell it out so accursedly?
Amb. So damnedly?
Sup. Villain, I'll brain thee with it.
Officer. O my good lord!
Sup. The devil overtake thee!
Amb. O fatal!
Sup. O prodigious to our bloods!
Amb. Did we dissemble?
Sup. Did we make our tears women for thee?
Amb. Laugh and rejoice for thee?
Sup. Bring warrant for thy death.?
Amb. Mock off thy head?
Sup. You had a trick: you had a wile, forsooth.
Amb. A murrain meet 'em; there's none of these wiles that ever come to good: I see now, there's nothing sure in mortality, but mortality.
Well, no more words: shalt be revenged, i' faith.
Come, throw off clouds; now, brother, think of vengeance,
And deeper-settled hate; sirrah, sit fast,
We'll pull down all, but thou shalt down at last. [Exeunt.