The Duchess of Malfi

DUCHESS.  Poor! he hath amply fill'd his coffers.
BOSOLA.  Sure, he was too honest.  Pluto,[87 - For Plutus.] the god of riches,
When he 's sent by Jupiter to any man,
He goes limping, to signify that wealth
That comes on God's name comes slowly; but when he's sent
On the devil's errand, he rides post and comes in by scuttles.[88 - Quick steps.]
Let me show you what a most unvalu'd jewel
You have in a wanton humour thrown away,
To bless the man shall find him.  He was an excellent
Courtier and most faithful; a soldier that thought it
As beastly to know his own value too little
As devilish to acknowledge it too much.
Both his virtue and form deserv'd a far better fortune:
His discourse rather delighted to judge itself than show itself:
His breast was fill'd with all perfection,
And yet it seemed a private whisp'ring-room,
It made so little noise of 't.
DUCHESS.  But he was basely descended.
BOSOLA.  Will you make yourself a mercenary herald,
Rather to examine men's pedigrees than virtues?
You shall want[89 - Miss.] him:
For know an honest statesman to a prince
Is like a cedar planted by a spring;
The spring bathes the tree's root, the grateful tree
Rewards it with his shadow:  you have not done so.
I would sooner swim to the Bermoothes on
Two politicians' rotten bladders, tied
Together with an intelligencer's heart-string,
Than depend on so changeable a prince's favour.
Fare thee well, Antonio!  Since the malice of the world
Would needs down with thee, it cannot be said yet
That any ill happen'd unto thee, considering thy fall
Was accompanied with virtue.
DUCHESS.  O, you render me excellent music!
BOSOLA.                                      Say you?
DUCHESS.  This good one that you speak of is my husband.
BOSOLA.  Do I not dream?  Can this ambitious age
Have so much goodness in 't as to prefer
A man merely for worth, without these shadows
Of wealth and painted honours?  Possible?
DUCHESS.  I have had three children by him.
BOSOLA.                                      Fortunate lady!
For you have made your private nuptial bed
The humble and fair seminary of peace,
No question but:  many an unbenefic'd scholar
Shall pray for you for this deed, and rejoice
That some preferment in the world can yet
Arise from merit.  The virgins of your land
That have no dowries shall hope your example
Will raise them to rich husbands.  Should you want
Soldiers, 'twould make the very Turks and Moors
Turn Christians, and serve you for this act.
Last, the neglected poets of your time,
In honour of this trophy of a man,
Rais'd by that curious engine, your white hand,
Shall thank you, in your grave, for 't; and make that
More reverend than all the cabinets
Of living princes.  For Antonio,
His fame shall likewise flow from many a pen,
When heralds shall want coats to sell to men.
DUCHESS.  As I taste comfort in this friendly speech,
So would I find concealment.
BOSOLA.  O, the secret of my prince,
Which I will wear on th' inside of my heart!
DUCHESS.  You shall take charge of all my coin and jewels,
And follow him; for he retires himself
To Ancona.
BOSOLA.     So.
DUCHESS.         Whither, within few days,
I mean to follow thee.
BOSOLA.                 Let me think:
I would wish your grace to feign a pilgrimage
To our Lady of Loretto, scarce seven leagues
]From fair Ancona; so may you depart
Your country with more honour, and your flight
Will seem a princely progress, retaining
Your usual train about you.
DUCHESS.                     Sir, your direction
Shall lead me by the hand.
CARIOLA.                    In my opinion,
She were better progress to the baths at Lucca,
Or go visit the Spa
In Germany; for, if you will believe me,
I do not like this jesting with religion,
This feigned pilgrimage.
DUCHESS.  Thou art a superstitious fool:
Prepare us instantly for our departure.
Past sorrows, let us moderately lament them,
For those to come, seek wisely to prevent them.

[Exeunt DUCHESS and CARIOLA.]

BOSOLA.  A politician is the devil's quilted anvil;
He fashions all sins on him, and the blows
Are never heard:  he may work in a lady's chamber,
As here for proof.  What rests[90 - Remains.] but I reveal
All to my lord?  O, this base quality[91 - Profession.]  Of intelligencer!
Why, every quality i' the world
Prefers but gain or commendation:
Now, for this act I am certain to be rais'd,