The Duchess of Malfi ACT 2. SCENE 3. by John Webster Lyrics
Enter Bosola, with a dark lantern
Bosola.
Sure I did hear a woman shriek: list, ha!
And the sound came, if I receiv'd it right,
]From the duchess' lodgings. There 's some stratagem
In the confining all our courtiers
To their several wards: I must have part of it;
My intelligence will freeze else. List, again!
It may be 'twas the melancholy bird,
Best friend of silence and of solitariness,
The owl, that screamed so.—Ha! Antonio!
Enter ANTONIO with a candle, his sword drawn
Antonio.
I heard some noise.—Who 's there? What art thou? Speak.
Bosola.
Antonio, put not your face nor body
To such a forc'd expression of fear;
I am Bosola, your friend.
Antonio.
Bosola!—
Aside. This mole does undermine me.—Heard you not
A noise even now?
Bosola.
From whence?
Antonio.
From the duchess' lodging.
Bosola.
Not I: did you?
Antonio.
I did, or else I dream'd.
Bosola.
Let 's walk towards it.
Antonio.
No: it may be 'twas
But the rising of the wind.
Bosola.
Very likely.
Methinks 'tis very cold, and yet you sweat:
You look wildly.
Antonio.
I have been setting a figure
For the duchess' jewels.
Bosola.
Ah, and how falls your question?
Do you find it radical?
Antonio. What 's that to you?
'Tis rather to be question'd what design,
When all men were commanded to their lodgings,
Makes you a night-walker.
Bosola.
In sooth, I 'll tell you:
Now all the court 's asleep, I thought the devil
Had least to do here; I came to say my prayers;
And if it do offend you I do so,
You are a fine courtier.
Antonio.
Aside. This fellow will undo me.—
You gave the duchess apricocks to-day:
Pray heaven they were not poison'd!
Bosola.
Poison'd! a Spanish fig
For the imputation!
Antonio.
Traitors are ever confident
Till they are discover'd. There were jewels stol'n too:
In my conceit, none are to be suspected
More than yourself.
Bosola.
You are a false steward.
Antonio.
Saucy slave, I 'll pull thee up by the roots.
Bosola.
May be the ruin will crush you to pieces.
Antonio.
You are an impudent snake indeed, sir:
Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?
You libel well, sir?
Bosola.
No, sir: copy it out,
And I will set my hand to 't.
Antonio.
Aside.
My nose bleeds.
One that were superstitious would count
This ominous, when it merely comes by chance.
Two letters, that are wrought here for my name,
Are drown'd in blood!
Mere accident.—For you, sir, I 'll take order
I' the morn you shall be safe.—Aside. 'Tis that must colour
Her lying-in.—Sir, this door you pass not:
I do not hold it fit that you come near
The duchess' lodgings, till you have quit yourself.—
Aside. The great are like the base, nay, they are the same,
When they seek shameful ways to avoid shame.
Exit.
Bosola.
Antonio hereabout did drop a paper:—
Some of your help, false friend.—O, here it is.
What 's here? a child's nativity calculated!
Reads.
'The duchess was deliver'd of a son, 'tween the hours
twelve and one in the night, Anno Dom. 1504,'—that 's
this year—'decimo nono Decembris,'—that 's this night—
'taken according to the meridian of Malfi,'—that 's our
duchess: happy discovery!—'The lord of the first house
being combust in the ascendant, signifies short life;
and Mars being in a human sign, joined to the tail of the
Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a violent death.
Caetera non scrutantur.'
Why, now 'tis most apparent; this precise fellow
Is the duchess' bawd:—I have it to my wish!
This is a parcel of intelligency
Our courtiers were cas'd up for: it needs must follow
That I must be committed on pretence
Of poisoning her; which I 'll endure, and laugh at.
If one could find the father now! but that
Time will discover. Old Castruccio
I' th' morning posts to Rome: by him I 'll send
A letter that shall make her brothers' galls
O'erflow their livers. This was a thrifty way!
Though lust do mask in ne'er so strange disguise,
She 's oft found witty, but is never wise.
Exit.
Bosola.
Sure I did hear a woman shriek: list, ha!
And the sound came, if I receiv'd it right,
]From the duchess' lodgings. There 's some stratagem
In the confining all our courtiers
To their several wards: I must have part of it;
My intelligence will freeze else. List, again!
It may be 'twas the melancholy bird,
Best friend of silence and of solitariness,
The owl, that screamed so.—Ha! Antonio!
Enter ANTONIO with a candle, his sword drawn
Antonio.
I heard some noise.—Who 's there? What art thou? Speak.
Bosola.
Antonio, put not your face nor body
To such a forc'd expression of fear;
I am Bosola, your friend.
Antonio.
Bosola!—
Aside. This mole does undermine me.—Heard you not
A noise even now?
Bosola.
From whence?
Antonio.
From the duchess' lodging.
Bosola.
Not I: did you?
Antonio.
I did, or else I dream'd.
Bosola.
Let 's walk towards it.
Antonio.
No: it may be 'twas
But the rising of the wind.
Bosola.
Very likely.
Methinks 'tis very cold, and yet you sweat:
You look wildly.
Antonio.
I have been setting a figure
For the duchess' jewels.
Bosola.
Ah, and how falls your question?
Do you find it radical?
Antonio. What 's that to you?
'Tis rather to be question'd what design,
When all men were commanded to their lodgings,
Makes you a night-walker.
Bosola.
In sooth, I 'll tell you:
Now all the court 's asleep, I thought the devil
Had least to do here; I came to say my prayers;
And if it do offend you I do so,
You are a fine courtier.
Antonio.
Aside. This fellow will undo me.—
You gave the duchess apricocks to-day:
Pray heaven they were not poison'd!
Bosola.
Poison'd! a Spanish fig
For the imputation!
Antonio.
Traitors are ever confident
Till they are discover'd. There were jewels stol'n too:
In my conceit, none are to be suspected
More than yourself.
Bosola.
You are a false steward.
Antonio.
Saucy slave, I 'll pull thee up by the roots.
Bosola.
May be the ruin will crush you to pieces.
Antonio.
You are an impudent snake indeed, sir:
Are you scarce warm, and do you show your sting?
You libel well, sir?
Bosola.
No, sir: copy it out,
And I will set my hand to 't.
Antonio.
Aside.
My nose bleeds.
One that were superstitious would count
This ominous, when it merely comes by chance.
Two letters, that are wrought here for my name,
Are drown'd in blood!
Mere accident.—For you, sir, I 'll take order
I' the morn you shall be safe.—Aside. 'Tis that must colour
Her lying-in.—Sir, this door you pass not:
I do not hold it fit that you come near
The duchess' lodgings, till you have quit yourself.—
Aside. The great are like the base, nay, they are the same,
When they seek shameful ways to avoid shame.
Exit.
Bosola.
Antonio hereabout did drop a paper:—
Some of your help, false friend.—O, here it is.
What 's here? a child's nativity calculated!
Reads.
'The duchess was deliver'd of a son, 'tween the hours
twelve and one in the night, Anno Dom. 1504,'—that 's
this year—'decimo nono Decembris,'—that 's this night—
'taken according to the meridian of Malfi,'—that 's our
duchess: happy discovery!—'The lord of the first house
being combust in the ascendant, signifies short life;
and Mars being in a human sign, joined to the tail of the
Dragon, in the eighth house, doth threaten a violent death.
Caetera non scrutantur.'
Why, now 'tis most apparent; this precise fellow
Is the duchess' bawd:—I have it to my wish!
This is a parcel of intelligency
Our courtiers were cas'd up for: it needs must follow
That I must be committed on pretence
Of poisoning her; which I 'll endure, and laugh at.
If one could find the father now! but that
Time will discover. Old Castruccio
I' th' morning posts to Rome: by him I 'll send
A letter that shall make her brothers' galls
O'erflow their livers. This was a thrifty way!
Though lust do mask in ne'er so strange disguise,
She 's oft found witty, but is never wise.
Exit.