You are a sweet physician.
Vit. Cor. Sure, sir, a loathèd cruelty in ladies Is as to doctors many funerals; It takes away their credit.
Brach. Excellent creature! We call the cruel fair: what name for you That are so merciful?
Zan. See, now they close.
Flam. Most happy union.
Cor. My fears are fall'n upon me: O, my heart! My son the pander! now I find our house Sinking to ruin. Earthquakes leave behind, Where they have tyrannised, iron, lead, or stone; But, woe to ruin, violent lust leaves none!
Brach. What value is this jewel?
Vit. Cor. 'Tis the ornament Of a weak fortune.
Brach. In sooth, I'll have it; nay, I will but change My jewel for your jewel.
Flam. Excellent! His jewel for her jewel:—well put in, duke.
Brach. Nay, let me see you wear it.
Vit. Cor. Here, sir?
Brach. Nay, lower, you shall wear my jewel lower.
Flam. That's better; she must wear his jewel lower.
Vit. Cor. To pass away the time, I'll tell your grace A dream I had last night.
Brach. Most wishedly.
Vit. Cor. A foolish idle dream. Methought I walked about the mid of night Into a church-yard, where a goodly yew-tree Spread her large root in ground. Under that yew, As I sate sadly leaning on a grave Chequered with cross sticks, there came stealing in Your duchess and my husband: one of them A pick-axe bore, the other a rusty spade; And in rough terms they gan to challenge me About this yew.
Brach. That tree?
Vit. Cor. This harmless yew: They told me my intent was to root up That well-grown yew, and plant i' the stead of it A withered blackthorn; and for that they vowed To bury me alive. My husband straight With pick-axe gan to dig, and your fell duchess With shovel, like a Fury, voided out The earth, and scattered bones. Lord, how, methought, I trembled! and yet, for all this terror, I could not pray.
Flam. No; the devil was in your dream.
Vit. Cor. When to my rescue there arose, methought, A whirlwind, which let fall a massy arm From that strong plant; And both were struck dead by that sacred yew, In that base shallow grave that was their due.
Flam. Excellent devil! she hath taught him in a dream To make away his duchess and her husband.
Brach. Sweetly shall I interpret this your dream. You are lodged within his arms who shall protect you From all the fevers of a jealous husband; From the poor envy of our phlegmatic duchess. I'll seat you above law, and above scandal; Give to your thoughts the invention of delight, And the fruition; nor shall government Divide me from you longer than a care To keep you great: you shall to me at once Be dukedom, health, wife, children, friends, and all.
Cor. [
Coming forward]. Woe to light hearts, they still fore-run our fall!
Flam. What Fury raised thee up?—Away, away! [
Exit Zanche.
Cor. What make you here, my lord, this dead of night? Never dropped mildew on a flower here Till now.
Flam. I pray, will you go to bed, then, Lest you be blasted?
Cor. O, that this fair garden Had with all poisoned herbs of Thessaly At first been planted; made a nursery For witchcraft, rather than a burial plot For both your honours!
Vit. Cor. Dearest mother, hear me.
Cor. O, thou dost make my brow bend to the earth, Sooner than nature! See, the curse of children! In life they keep us frequently in tears; And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears.
Brach. Come, come, I will not hear you.
Vit. Cor. Dear, my lord—
Cor. Where is thy duchess now, adulterous duke? Thou little dreamd'st this night she is come to Rome.
Flam. How! come to Rome!
Vit. Cor. The duchess!
Brach. She had been better—
Cor. The lives of princes should like dials move, Whose regular example is so strong, They make the times by them go right or wrong.
Flam. So; have you done?
Cor. Unfortunate Camillo!
Vit. Cor. I do protest, if any chaste denial, If anything but blood could have allayed His long suit to me—
Cor. I will join with thee, To the most woeful end e'er mother kneeled: If thou dishonour thus thy husband's bed, Be thy life short as are the funeral tears In great men's—
Brach. Fie, fie, the woman's mad.
Cor. Be thy act, Judas-like—betray in kissing: Mayst thou be envied during his short breath, And pitied like a wretch after his death!
Vit. Cor. O me accursed! [
Exit. Flam. Are you out of your wits, my lord? I'll fetch her back again.
Brach. No, I'll to bed: Send Doctor Julio to me presently.— Uncharitable woman! thy rash tongue Hath raised a fearful and prodigious storm: Be thou the cause of all ensuing harm. [
Exit. Flam. Now, you that stand so much upon your honour, Is this a fitting time o' night, think you, To send a duke home without e'er a man? I would fain know where lies the mass of wealth Which you have hoarded for my maintenance, That I may bear my beard out of the level Of my lord's stirrup.
Cor. What! because we are poor Shall we be vicious?
Flam. Pray, what means have you To keep me from the galleys or the gallows? My father proved himself a gentleman, Sold all's land, and, like a fortunate fellow, Died ere the money was spent. You brought me up At Padua, I confess, where, I protest, For want of means (the university judge me) I have been fain to heel my tutor's stockings, At least seven years: conspiring with a beard, Made me a graduate; then to this duke's service. I visited the court, whence I returned More courteous, more lecherous by far, But not a suit the richer: and shall I, Having a path so open and so free To my preferment, still retain your milk In my pale forehead? no, this face of mine I'll arm, and fortify with lusty wine, 'Gainst shame and blushing.
Cor. O, that I ne'er had borne thee.
Flam. So would I; I would the common'st courtezan in Rome Had been my mother, rather than thyself. Nature is very pitiful to whores, To give them but few children, yet those children Plurality of fathers: they are sure They shall not want. Go, go, Complain unto my great lord cardinal; Yet may be he will justify the act. Lycurgus wondered much men would provide Good stallions for their mares, and yet would suffer Their fair wives to be barren.
Cor. Misery of miseries! [
Exit. Flam. The duchess come to court! I like not that. We are engaged to mischief, and must on: As rivers to find out the ocean Flow with crook bendings beneath forcèd banks; Or as we see, to aspire some mountain's top, The way ascends not straight, but imitates The subtle foldings of a winter snake; So who knows policy and her true aspect, Shall find her ways winding and indirect. [
Exit.
ACT THE SECOND.
Table of Contents
SCENE I.—A Room in Francisco's Palace.
Enter Francisco de Medicis, Cardinal Monticelso, Marcello, Isabella, Giovanni, with Jaques the Moor.
Fran. de Med. Have you not seen your husband since you arrived? Isab. Not yet, sir. Fran. de Med. Surely he is wondrous kind: If I had such a dove-house as Camillo's, I would set fire on't, were't but to destroy The pole-cats that haunt to it.—My sweet cousin! Giov. Lord uncle, you did promise me a horse And armour. Fran. de Med. That I did, my pretty cousin.— Marcello, see it fitted. Mar. My lord, the duke is here. Fran. de Med. Sister, away! you must not yet be seen. Isab. I do beseech you, Entreat him mildly; let not your rough tongue Set us at louder variance: all my wrongs Are freely pardoned; and I do not doubt, As men, to try the precious unicorn's horn,[32] Make of the powder a preservative circle, And in it put a spider, so these arms Shall charm his poison, force it to obeying, And keep him chaste from an infected straying. Fran. de Med. I wish it may. Be gone, void the chamber. [Exeunt Isabella, Giovanni, and Jaques.
Enter Brachiano and Flamineo.
You are welcome: will you sit?—I pray, my lord,
Be you my orator, my heart's too full;
I'll second you anon.
Mont. Ere I begin, Let me entreat your grace forego all passion, Which may be raisèd by my free discourse. Brach. As silent as i' the church: you may proceed. Mont. It is a wonder to your noble friends, That you, having, as 'twere, entered the world With a free sceptre in your able hand, And to the use of nature well applied High gifts of learning, should in your prime age Neglect your awful throne for the soft down Of an insatiate bed. O, my lord, The drunkard after all his lavish cups Is dry, and then is sober; so at length, When you awake from this lascivious dream, Repentance then will follow, like the sting Placed in the adder's tail. Wretched
