John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
John Webster
Antonio spins a fake story about treasure from the Duchess' coffers being stolen as a way of making sure all the courtiers are confined to their quarters so that they won’t learn of the Duchess' pregnancy. At the end, Delio informs Antonio that he is a father to a boy.
Enter Bosola and Old Lady
Bosola.
So, so, there 's no question but her techiness
and most vulturous eating of the apricocks are apparent signs
of breeding, now?
Old Lady.
I am in haste, sir.
Bosola.
There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desire
to see the glass-house——
Old Lady.
Nay, pray, let me go. I will hear no more
of the glass-house. You are still abusing women!
Bosola.
Who, I? No; only, by the way now and then, mention your
frailties. The orange-tree bears ripe and green fruit and blossoms
all together; and some of you give entertainment for pure love,
but more for more precious reward. The lusty spring smells well;
but drooping autumn tastes well. If we have the same golden showers
that rained in the time of Jupiter the thunderer, you have the same
Danaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thou
never study the mathematics?
Old Lady.
What 's that, sir?
Bosola. Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in one
centre. Go, go, give your foster-daughters good counsel: tell them,
that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman's girdle, like
a false rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes.
Exit Old Lady.
Enter ANTONIO, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN
Antonio.
Shut up the court-gates.
Roderigo.
Why, sir? What 's the danger?
Antonio. Shut up the posterns presently, and call
All the officers o' th' court.
Grisolan.
I shall instantly.
Exit.
Antonio.
Who keeps the key o' th' park-gate?
Roderigo.
Forobosco.
Antonio.
Let him bring 't presently.
Re-enter GRISOLAN with Servants
First Servant.
O, gentleman o' th' court, the foulest treason!
Bosola. Aside.
If that these apricocks should be poison'd now,
Without my knowledge?
First Servant.
There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess' bed-chamber——
Second Servant.
A Switzer!
First Servant.
With a pistol——
Second Servant.
There was a cunning traitor!
First Servant.
And all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets.
Second Servant. O wicked cannibal!
First Servant.
'Twas a French plot, upon my life.
Second Servant. To see what the devil can do!
Antonio.
[Are] all the officers here?
Servants.
We are.
Antonio.
Gentlemen,
We have lost much plate, you know; and but this evening
Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats,
Are missing in the duchess' cabinet.
Are the gates shut?
Servant.
Yes.
Antonio.
'Tis the duchess' pleasure
Each officer be lock'd into his chamber
Till the sun-rising; and to send the keys
Of all their chests and of their outward doors
Into her bed-chamber. She is very sick.
Roderigo. At her pleasure.
Antonio.
She entreats you take 't not ill: the innocent
Shall be the more approv'd by it.
Bosola.
Gentlemen o' the wood-yard, where 's your Switzer now?
First Servant.
By this hand, 'twas credibly reported by one
o' the black guard.
Exeunt all except ANTONIO and DELIO.
Delio.
How fares it with the duchess?
Antonio.
She 's expos'd
Unto the worst of torture, pain, and fear.
Delio.
Speak to her all happy comfort.
Antonio.
How I do play the fool with mine own danger!
You are this night, dear friend, to post to Rome:
My life lies in your service.
Delio.
Do not doubt me.
Antonio.
O, 'tis far from me: and yet fear presents me
Somewhat that looks like danger.
Delio.
Believe it,
'Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more:
How superstitiously we mind our evils!
The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare,
Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,
Or singing of a cricket, are of power
To daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well:
I wish you all the joys of a bless'd father;
And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast,—
Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
Exit.
Enter CARIOLA
Carioa.
Sir, you are the happy father of a son:
Your wife commends him to you.
Antonio.
Blessed comfort!—
For heaven' sake, tend her well: I 'll presently
Go set a figure for 's nativity.
Exeunt.
The Duchess of Malfi ACT 2. SCENE 2. was written by John Webster.