The Duchess of Malfi

Dies.
BOSOLA.  O, she 's gone again! there the cords of life broke.
O sacred innocence, that sweetly sleeps
On turtles' feathers, whilst a guilty conscience
Is a black register wherein is writ
All our good deeds and bad, a perspective
That shows us hell!  That we cannot be suffer'd
To do good when we have a mind to it!
This is manly sorrow;
These tears, I am very certain, never grew
In my mother's milk.  My estate is sunk
Below the degree of fear:  where were
These penitent fountains while she was living?
O, they were frozen up!  Here is a sight
As direful to my soul as is the sword
Unto a wretch hath slain his father.
Come, I 'll bear thee hence,
And execute thy last will; that 's deliver
Thy body to the reverend dispose
Of some good women:  that the cruel tyrant
Shall not deny me.  Then I 'll post to Milan,
Where somewhat I will speedily enact
Worth my dejection.

Exit [with the body].

Act V

Scene I[120 - Milan. A public place.]

[Enter] ANTONIO and DELIO

ANTONIO.  What think you of my hope of reconcilement
To the Arragonian brethren?
DELIO.                       I misdoubt it;
For though they have sent their letters of safe-conduct
For your repair to Milan, they appear
But nets to entrap you.  The Marquis of Pescara,
Under whom you hold certain land in cheat,[121 - In escheat; here, in fee.]
Much 'gainst his noble nature hath been mov'd
To seize those lands; and some of his dependants
Are at this instant making it their suit
To be invested in your revenues.
I cannot think they mean well to your life
That do deprive you of your means of life,
Your living.
ANTONIO.      You are still an heretic[122 - Disbeliever.]
To any safety I can shape myself.
DELIO.  Here comes the marquis:  I will make myself
Petitioner for some part of your land,
To know whither it is flying.
ANTONIO.                       I pray, do.
[Withdraws.]

[Enter PESCARA]

DELIO.  Sir, I have a suit to you.
PESCARA.                            To me?
DELIO.                                      An easy one:
There is the Citadel of Saint Bennet,
With some demesnes, of late in the possession
Of Antonio Bologna, – please you bestow them on me.
PESCARA.  You are my friend; but this is such a suit,
Nor fit for me to give, nor you to take.
DELIO.  No, sir?
PESCARA.          I will give you ample reason for 't
Soon in private: – here 's the cardinal's mistress.

[Enter JULIA]

JULIA.  My lord, I am grown your poor petitioner,
And should be an ill beggar, had I not
A great man's letter here, the cardinal's,
To court you in my favour.
[Gives a letter.]
PESCARA.                    He entreats for you
The Citadel of Saint Bennet, that belong'd
To the banish'd Bologna.
JULIA.                    Yes.
PESCARA.  I could not have thought of a friend I could rather
Pleasure with it:  'tis yours.
JULIA.                          Sir, I thank you;
And he shall know how doubly I am engag'd
Both in your gift, and speediness of giving
Which makes your grant the greater.

Exit.

ANTONIO.                             How they fortify
Themselves with my ruin!
DELIO.                    Sir, I am
Little bound to you.
PESCARA.              Why?
DELIO.  Because you deni'd this suit to me, and gave 't
To such a creature.
PESCARA.             Do you know what it was?
It was Antonio's land; not forfeited
By course of law, but ravish'd from his throat
By the cardinal's entreaty.  It were not fit
I should bestow so main a piece of wrong