The Duchess of Malfi

were brought forth by some more weighty cause than those of meaner
persons: they are deceiv'd, there 's the same hand to them; the like
passions sway them; the same reason that makes a vicar go to law for
a tithe-pig, and undo his neighbours, makes them spoil a whole
province, and batter down goodly cities with the cannon.

[Enter DUCHESS and Ladies]

DUCHESS.  Your arm, Antonio:  do I not grow fat?
I am exceeding short-winded. – Bosola,
I would have you, sir, provide for me a litter;
Such a one as the Duchess of Florence rode in.
BOSOLA.  The duchess us'd one when she was great with child.
DUCHESS.  I think she did. – Come hither, mend my ruff:
Here, when? thou art such a tedious lady; and
Thy breath smells of lemon-pills:  would thou hadst done!
Shall I swoon under thy fingers?  I am
So troubled with the mother![41 - Hysteria.]
BOSOLA.  [Aside.]             I fear too much.
DUCHESS.  I have heard you say that the French courtiers
Wear their hats on 'fore that king.
ANTONIO.  I have seen it.
DUCHESS.                   In the presence?
ANTONIO.                                     Yes.
DUCHESS.  Why should not we bring up that fashion?
'Tis ceremony more than duty that consists
In the removing of a piece of felt.
Be you the example to the rest o' th' court;
Put on your hat first.
ANTONIO.                You must pardon me:
I have seen, in colder countries than in France,
Nobles stand bare to th' prince; and the distinction
Methought show'd reverently.
BOSOLA.  I have a present for your grace.
DUCHESS.                                   For me, sir?
BOSOLA.  Apricocks, madam.
DUCHESS.                    O, sir, where are they?
I have heard of none to-year[42 - This year.]
BOSOLA.  [Aside.]              Good; her colour rises.
DUCHESS.  Indeed, I thank you:  they are wondrous fair ones.
What an unskilful fellow is our gardener!
We shall have none this month.
BOSOLA.  Will not your grace pare them?
DUCHESS.  No:  they taste of musk, methinks; indeed they do.
BOSOLA.  I know not:  yet I wish your grace had par'd 'em.
DUCHESS.  Why?
BOSOLA.         I forgot to tell you, the knave gardener,
Only to raise his profit by them the sooner,
Did ripen them in horse-dung.
DUCHESS.                       O, you jest. —
You shall judge:  pray, taste one.
ANTONIO.                            Indeed, madam,
I do not love the fruit.
DUCHESS.                  Sir, you are loth
To rob us of our dainties.  'Tis a delicate fruit;
They say they are restorative.
BOSOLA.                        'Tis a pretty art,
This grafting.
DUCHESS.  'Tis so; a bettering of nature.
BOSOLA.  To make a pippin grow upon a crab,
A damson on a black-thorn. – [Aside.] How greedily she eats them!
A whirlwind strike off these bawd farthingales!
For, but for that and the loose-bodied gown,
I should have discover'd apparently[43 - Clearly.]
The young springal[44 - Youngster.] cutting a caper in her belly.
DUCHESS.  I thank you, Bosola:  they were right good ones,
If they do not make me sick.
ANTONIO.                      How now, madam!
DUCHESS.  This green fruit and my stomach are not friends:
How they swell me!
BOSOLA.  [Aside.]    Nay, you are too much swell'd already.
DUCHESS.  O, I am in an extreme cold sweat!
BOSOLA.                                      I am very sorry.

[Exit.]

DUCHESS.  Lights to my chamber! – O good Antonio,
I fear I am undone!
DELIO.               Lights there, lights!

Exeunt DUCHESS [and Ladies.]

ANTONIO.  O my most trusty Delio, we are lost!
I fear she 's fall'n in labour; and there 's left
No time for her remove.
DELIO.                   Have you prepar'd
Those ladies to attend her; and procur'd
That politic safe conveyance for the midwife
Your duchess plotted?
ANTONIO.               I have.
DELIO.  Make use, then, of this forc'd occasion.
Give out that Bosola hath poison'd her
With these apricocks; that will give some colour
For her keeping close.
ANTONIO.                Fie, fie, the physicians
Will then flock to her.
DELIO.  For that you may pretend
She'll use some prepar'd antidote of her own,
Lest the physicians should re-poison her.
ANTONIO.  I am lost in amazement:  I know not what to think on 't.