She gets excited, feels and cares for nothing more, refuses to tell the name of her lover, and praises him in the following words. This praise in the midst of danger is like a rose she has plucked, and of which the odor intoxicates her:
"A. Soft! 'twas not in my bargain.
Yet somewhat, sir, to stay your longing stomach
I am content t' acquaint you with the man,
The more than man, that got this sprightly boy—
(For 'tis a boy, and therefore glory, sir,
Your heir shall be a son.)
S. Damnable monster?
A. Nay, and you will not hear, I'll speak no more.
S. Yes, speak, and speak thy last.
A. A match, a match?...
You, why you are not worthy once to name
His name without true worship, or, indeed,
Unless you kneel'd to hear another name him.
S. What was he call'd?
A. We are not come to that;
Let it suffice that you shall have the glory
To father what so brave a father got....
S. Dost thou laugh?
Come, whore, tell me your lover, or, by truth,
I'll hew thy flesh to shreds; who is't?"[465]
She laughs; the excess of shame and terror has given her courage; she insults him, she sings; so like a woman!
"A. (Sings) Che morte piu dolce che morire per amore.
S. Thus will I pull thy hair, and thus I'll drag
Thy lust be-leper'd body through the dust....
(Hales her up and down)
A. Be a gallant hangman....
I leave revenge behind, and thou shalt feel't....
(To Vasquez.) Pish, do not beg for me, I prize my life
As nothing; if the man will needs be mad,
Why, let him take it."[466]
In the end all is discovered, and the two lovers know they must die. For the last time, they see each other in Annabella's chamber, listening to the noise of the feast below which shall serve for their funeral feast. Giovanni, who has made his resolve like a madman, sees Annabella richly dressed, dazzling. He regards her in silence, and remembers the past. He weeps and says:
"These are the funeral tears,
Shed on your grave; these furrow'd-up my cheeks
When first I lov'd and knew not how to woo....
Give me your hand: how sweetly life doth run
In these well-colour'd veins! How constantly
These palms do promise health!...
Kiss me again, forgive me.... Farewell."[467]
He then stabs her, enters the banqueting room, with her heart upon his dagger:
"Soranzo see this heart, which was thy wife's.
Thus I exchange it royally for thine."[468]
He kills him, and casting himself on the swords of banditti, dies. It would seem that tragedy could go no further.
But it did go further; for if these are melodramas, they are sincere, composed, not like those of to-day, by Grub Street writers for peaceful citizens, but by impassioned men, experienced in tragical arts, for a violent, over-fed, melancholy race. From Shakespeare to Milton, Swift, Hogarth, no race has been more glutted with coarse expressions and horrors, and its poets supply them plentifully; Ford less so than Webster; the latter a sombre man, whose thoughts seem incessantly to be haunting tombs and charnel-houses. "Places in court," he says, "are but like beds in the hospital, where this man's head lies at that man's foot, and so lower and lower."[469] Such are his images. No one has equalled Webster in creating desperate characters, utter wretches, bitter misanthropes,[470] in blackening and blaspheming human life, above all, in depicting the shameless depravity and refined ferocity of Italian manners.[471] The Duchess of Malfi has secretly married her steward Antonio, and her brother learns that she has children; almost mad[472] with rage and wounded pride, he remains silent, waiting until he knows the name of the father; then he arrives all of a sudden, means to kill her, but so that she shall taste the lees of death. She must suffer much, but above all, she must not die too quickly! She must suffer in mind; these griefs are worse than the body's. He sends assassins to kill Antonio, and meanwhile comes to her in the dark, with affectionate words; he pretends to be reconciled, and suddenly shows her waxen figures, covered with wounds, whom she takes for her slaughtered husband and children. She staggers under the blow, and remains in gloom without crying out. Then she says: