Jump to content

The Tragedy of the Dutchesse of Malfy/Act II, scene ii

From Wikisource

SCENA. II.

BOSOLA, old Lady, Antonio, Rodorigo, Grisolan:
servants, Delio, Cariola.

Bos.
So, so: ther's no question but her teatchives
And most vulterous eating of the Apricocks, are apparant
Signes of breeding, now?

Old Lady.
I am in hast (Sir.)

Bos.
There was a young wayting-woman, had a monstrous desire
To see the Glasse-house.

Old La.
Nay, pray let me goe:

Bos.
And it was onely to know what strange instrument it was,
Should swell up a glasse to the fashion of a womans belly.

Old La.
I will heare no more of the Glasse-house,
You are still abusing woemen?

Bos.
Who I? no, onely (by the way now and then) mention
Your fraileties. The Orrenge tree beare ripe and greene
Fruit, and blossoms altogether: And some of you give entertainment
For pure love: but more, for more precious reward. The lusty
Spring smels well: but drooping Autumne tasts well: If we
Have the same golden showres, that rained in the time of Jupiter
The Thunderer: you have the same Danes still, to hold up their
Laps to receive them: didst thou never study the Mathematiques?

Old La.
What's that (Sir.)

Bos.
Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meete
In one center: Goe goe; give your foster-daughters good councell:
Tell them, that the Divell takes delight to hang at a womans girdle;
Like a false rusty watch that she cannot discerne how
The time passes.

Ant.
Shht up the Court gates:

Rod.
Why sir? what's the danger?

Ant.
Shut up the Posternes presently: and call
All the Officers o'th' Court.

Gris.
I shall instantly:

Ant.
Who keepes the key o'th' Parke-gate?

Rod.
Forobosco.

Ant.
Let him bring't presently.

Servant.
Oh, Gentlemen, o'th' Court, the fowlest treason.

Bos.
If that these Apricocks should be poysond, now;
Without my knowledge.

Serv.
There was taken even now a Switzer
In the Duchesse Bed-chamber.

2.Serv.
A Switzer?

Serv.
With a Pistoll in his great cod-piece.

Bos.
Hh, ha, ha.

Serv.
The cod-piece was the case for't.

2.Ser.
There was a cunning traitor.
Who would have search'd his cod-piece?

Serv.
True, if he had kept out of the Ladies chambers:
And all the mowldes of his buttons, were leaden bullets.

2.Serv.
Oh wicked Caniball: a fire-lock in's cod-piece?

Serv.
'Twas a French plot upon my life.

2.Ser.
To see what the Divell can doe.

Ant.
All the Offices here?

Serv.
We are:

Ant.
Gentlemen,
We have lost much Plate you know; and but this evening
Jewels, to the value of foure thousand Duckets
Are missing in the Ducthesse Cabinet,
Are the Gates shut?

Ser.
Yes.

Ant.
'Tis the Duchesse pleasure
Each Officer be lock'd into his chamber
Till the Sun-rysing: and to send the keyes
Of all their chests, and of their outward doores
Into her bed-chamber: She is very sicke.

Rod.
At her pleasure.

Ant.
She intreates you take't not ill: The Innocent
Shall be the more approv'd by it.

Bos.
Gentleman o'th' Wood-yard, where's your Switzer now?

Serv.
By this hand 'twas creadably reported by one o'th' Black-guard.

Del.
How fares it with the Dutchesse?

Ant.
She's expos'd

Unto the worst of torture, paine, and feare;

Del.
Speake to her all happy comfort.

Ant.
How I do play the foole with mine own danger?
You are this night (deere friend) to poast to Rome,
My life lies in your service.

Del.
Doe not doubt me,

Ant.
Oh, 'Tis farre from me: and yet feare presents me
Somewhat that looke like danger.

Del.
Beleeve it,
'Tis but the shadow of your feare, no more:
How superstitiously we mind our evils?
The throwing downe salt, or crossing of a Hare;
Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse:
Or singing of a Criket, are of powre
To daunt whole man in vs: Sir, fare you well:
I wish you all the joyes of a bless'd Father;
And (for my faith) lay this unto your brest,
Old friends (like old swords) still are trusted best.

Cariola.
Sir, you are the happy father of a sonne,
Your wife commends him to you.

Aut.
Blessed comfort:
For heaven-sake tend her well: I'll presently
Goe set a figure for's Nativitie. Exeunt.