The Duchess of Malfi

by Frank Kermode

  Heir to some nineteen mountains.

  YEL. Bless us all!

  You overwhelm me, sir, with love and riches.

  SIR WAL. And all as high as Paul’s.

  DAVY. [Aside] Here’s work, i’faith!

  SIR WAL. How sayst thou, Davy?

  DAVY. Higher, sir, by far;

  You cannot see the top of ’em.

  YEL. What, man!—

  Maudlin, salute this gentlewoman, our daughter,

  If things hit right.

  Enter Touchwood junior

  TOUCH. JUN. My knight, with a brace of footmen,

  Is come, and brought up his ewe-mutton to find

  A ram at London; I must hasten it,

  Or else pick17 a’ famine; her blood is mine,

  And that’s the surest. Well, knight, that choice spoil

  Is only kept for me.

  MOLL. [Aside] Sir—

  TOUCH. JUN. Turn not to me till thou mayst lawfully; it but whets my stomach, which is too sharp-set already. Read that note carefully [giving letter to Moll]; keep me from suspicion still, nor know my zeal but in thy heart:

  Read, and send but thy liking in three words;

  I’ll be at hand to take it.

  YEL. O turn, sir, turn.18

  A poor, plain boy, an university man;

  Proceeds next Lent to a bachelor of art;

  He will be called Sir Yellowhammer then

  Over all Cambridge, and that’s half a knight.

  MAUD. Please you, draw near

  And taste the welcome of the city, sir.

  YEL. Come, good Sir Walter, and your virtuous niece here.

  SIR WAL. ’Tis manners to take kindness.

  YEL. Lead ’em in, wife.

  SIR WAL. Your company, sir?

  YEL. I’ll give’t you instantly.

  Exeunt Maudlin, Sir W. Whorehound, Welshwoman, and Davy

  TOUCH. JUN. [Aside] How strangely busy is the devil and riches!

  Poor soul! kept in too hard, her mother’s eye

  Is cruel toward her, being kind19 to him.

  ’Twere a good mirth now to set him a-work

  To make her wedding-ring; I must about it:

  Rather than the gain should fall to a stranger,

  ’Twas honesty in me t’ enrich my father.

  YEL. [Aside] The girl is wondrous peevish. I fear nothing

  But that she’s taken with some other love,

  Then all’s quite dashed: that must be narrowly looked to;

  We cannot be too wary in our children.—

  What is’t you lack?

  TOUCH. JUN. O, nothing now; all that I wish is present:

  I’d have a wedding-ring made for a gentlewoman

  With all speed that may be.

  YEL. Of what weight, sir?

  TOUCH. JUN. Of some half ounce, stand fair

  And comely, with the spark of a diamond;

  Sir, ’twere pity to lose the least grace.

  YEL. Pray, let’s see it.

  [Takes stone from Touchwood junior]

  Indeed, sir, ’tis a pure one.

  TOUCH. JUN. So is the mistress.

  YEL. Have you the wideness of her finger, sir?

  TOUCH. JUN. Yes, sure, I think I have her measure about me:

  Good faith, ’tis down,20 I cannot show it you;

  I must pull too many things out to be certain.

  Let me see—long and slender, and neatly jointed;

  Just such another gentlewoman—that’s your daughter, sir?

  YEL. And therefore, sir, no gentlewoman.

  TOUCH. JUN. I protest

  I ne’er saw two maids handed more alike;

  I’ll ne’er seek farther, if you’ll give me leave, sir.

  YEL. If you dare venture by her finger, sir.

  TOUCH. JUN. Ay, and I’ll bide all loss, sir.

  YEL. Say you so, sir?

  Let us see.—Hither, girl.

  TOUCH. JUN. Shall I make bold

  With your finger, gentlewoman?

  MOLL. Your pleasure, sir.

  TOUCH. JUN. That fits her to a hair, sir.

  [Trying ring on Moll’s finger]

  YEL. What’s your posy now, sir?

  TOUCH. JUN. Mass, that’s true: posy? i’faith, e’en thus, sir:

  “Love that’s wise

  Blinds parents’ eyes.”

  YEL. How, how? if I may speak without offence, sir,

  I hold my life—

  TOUCH. JUN. What, sir?

  YEL. Go to,—you’ll pardon me?

  TOUCH. JUN. Pardon you? ay, sir.

  YEL. Will you, i’faith?

  TOUCH. JUN. Yes, faith, I will.

  YEL. You’ll steal away some man’s daughter: am I near you?

  Do you turn aside? you gentlemen are mad wags!

  I wonder things can be so warily carried,

  And parents blinded so: but they’re served right,

  That have two eyes and were so dull a’ sight.

  TOUCH. JUN. [Aside] Thy doom take hold of thee!

  YEL. To-morrow noon

  Shall show your ring well done.

  TOUCH. JUN. Being so, ’tis soon.—

  Thanks, and your leave, sweet gentlewoman.

  MOLL. Sir, you’re welcome.—

  Exit Touchwood junior

  [Aside] O were I made of wishes, I went with thee!

  YEL. Come now, we’ll see how the rules21 go within.

  MOLL. [Aside] That robs my joy; there I lose all I win.

  Exeunt

  SCENE II

  Enter Davy and Allwit severally

  DAVY. [Aside] Honesty wash my eyes! I’ve spied a wittol.22

  ALLWIT. What, Davy Dahanna? welcome from North Wales, i’faith!

  And is Sir Walter come?

  DAVY. New come to town, sir.

  ALLWIT. In to the maids, sweet Davy, and give order

  His chamber to be made ready instantly.

  My wife’s as great as she can wallow, Davy, and longs

  For nothing but pickled cucumbers and his coming;

  And now she shall ha’t, boy.

  DAVY. She’s sure of them, sir.

  ALLWIT. Thy very sight will hold my wife in pleasure

  Till the knight come himself; go in, in, in, Davy.

  Exit Davy

  The founder’s come to town: I’m like a man

  Finding a table furnished to his hand,

  As mine is still to me, prays for the founder,—

  Bless the right worshipful the good founder’s life!

  I thank him, has maintained my house this ten years;

  Not only keeps my wife, but ’a keeps me

  And all my family; I’m at his table:

  He gets me all my children, and pays the nurse

  Monthly or weekly; puts me to nothing, rent,

  Nor church-duties, not so much as the scavenger:

  The happiest state that ever man was born to!

  I walk out in a morning; come to breakfast,

  Find excellent cheer; a good fire in winter;

  Look in my coal-house about midsummer eve,

  That’s full, five or six chaldron new laid up;

  Look in my back-yard, I shall find a steeple

  Made up with Kentish faggots, which o’erlooks

  The water-house and the windmills: I say nothing,

  But smile and pin the door. When she lies in,

  As now she’s even upon the point of grunting,

  A lady lies not in like her; there’s her embossings,

  Embroiderings, spanglings, and I know not what,

  As if she lay with all the gaudy-shops23

  In Gresham’s Burse24 about her; then her restoratives,

  Able to set up a young ’pothecary,

  And richly stock the foreman of a drug-shop;

  Her sugar by whole loaves, her wines by rundlets.25

  I see these things, but, like a happy man,

  I pay for none at all; yet fools think
’s mine;

  I have the name, and in his gold I shine:

  And where some merchants would in soul kiss hell

  To buy a paradise for their wives, and dye

  Their conscience in the bloods of prodigal heirs

  To deck their night-piece, yet all this being done,

  Eaten with jealousy to the inmost bone,—

  As what affliction nature more constrains,

  Than feed the wife plump for another’s veins?—

  These torments stand I freed of; I’m as clear

  From jealousy of a wife as from the charge:26

  O. two miraculous blessings! ’tis the knight

  Hath took that labor all out of my hands:

  I may sit still and play; he’s jealous for me,

  Watches her steps, sets spies; I live at ease,

  He has both the cost and torment: when the string

  Of his heart frets, I feed, laugh, or sing,

  [Sings]

  La dildo, dildo la dildo, la dildo dildo de dildo!

  Enter two Servants

  1ST SER. What, has he got a singing in his head now?

  2ND SER. Now’s out of work, he falls to making dildoes.

  ALLWIT. Now, sirs, Sir Walter’s come.

  1ST SER. Is our master come?

  ALLWIT. Your master! what am I?

  1ST SER. Do not you know, sir?

  ALLWIT. Pray, am not I your master?

  1ST SER. O, you’re but

  Our mistress’s husband.

  ALLWIT. Ergo, knave, your master.

  1ST SER. Negatur argumentum.27—Here comes Sir Walter:

  Enter Sir Walter and Davy

  Now ’a stands bare as well as we; make the most of him,

  He’s but one peep above a serving-man,

  And so much his horns make him.

  SIR WAL. How dost, Jack?

  ALLWIT. Proud of your worship’s health, sir.

  SIR WAL. How does your wife?

  ALLWIT. E’en after your own making, sir;

  She’s a tumbler, a’ faith, the nose and belly meets.

  SIR WAL. They’ll part in time again.

  ALLWIT. At the good hour they will, an’t please your worship.

  SIR WAL. Here, sirrah, pull off my boots.—Put on,28 put on, Jack.

  [Servant pulls off his boots]

  ALLWIT. I thank your kind worship, sir.

  SIR WAL. Slippers! heart, you are sleepy!

  [Servant brings slippers]

  ALLWIT. [Aside] The game begins already.

  SIR WAL. Pish, put on, Jack.

  ALLWIT. [Aside] Now I must do’t, or he’ll be as angry now,

  As if I had put it on at first bidding;

  ’Tis but observing,

  ’Tis but observing a man’s humor once,

  And he may ha’ him by the nose all his life.

  SIR WAL. What entertainment has lain open here?

  No strangers in my absence?

  1ST SER. Sure, sir, not any.

  ALLWIT. [Aside] His jealousy begins: am not I happy now,

  That can laugh inward whilst his marrow melts?

  SIR WAL. How do you satisfy me?

  1ST SER. Good sir, be patient!

  SIR WAL. For two months’ absence I’ll be satisfied.

  1ST SER. No living creature entered—

  SIR WAL. Entered? come, swear!

  1ST SER. You will not hear me out, sir—

  SIR WAL. Yes, I’ll hear’t out, sir.

  1ST SER. Sir, he can tell himself—

  SIR WAL. Heart, he can tell?

  Do you think I’ll trust him? as a usurer

  With forfeited lordships:—him? O monstrous injury!

  Believe him? can the devil speak ill of darkness?—

  What can you say, sir?

  ALLWIT. Of my soul and conscience, sir,

  She’s a wife as honest of her body to me

  As any lord’s proud lady e’er can be!

  SIR WAL. Yet, by your leave, I heard you were once offering

  To go to bed to her.

  ALLWIT. No, I protest, sir!

  SIR WAL. Heart, if you do, you shall take all! I’ll marry.

  ALLWIT. O, I beseech you, sir!

  SIR WAL. [Aside] That wakes the slave,

  And keeps his flesh in awe.

  ALLWIT. [Aside] I’ll stop that gap

  Where’er I find it open: I have poisoned

  His hopes in marriage already with

  Some old rich widows, and some landed virgins;

  And I’ll fall to work still before I’ll lose him;

  He’s yet too sweet to part from.

  Enter Wat and Nick

  WAT. God-den,29 father.

  ALLWIT. Ha, villain, peace!

  NICK. God-den, father.

  ALLWIT. Peace, bastard!

  Should he hear ’em! [Aside]—These are two foolish children,

  They do not know the gentleman that sits there.

  SIR WAL. O, Wat—how dost, Nick? go to school, ply your books, boys, ha!

  ALLWIT. Where’s your legs,30 whoresons?—They should kneel indeed,

  If they could say their prayers.

  SIR WAL. [Aside] Let me see, stay,—

  How shall I dispose of these two brats now

  When I am married? for they must not mingle

  Amongst my children that I get in wedlock;

  ’Twill make foul work that, and raise many storms.

  I will bind Wat prentice to a goldsmith,

  My father Yellowhammer, as fit as can be;

  Nick with some vintner; good, goldsmith and vintner;

  There will be wine in bowls, i’faith.

  Enter Mistress Allwit

  MIS. ALL. Sweet knight,

  Welcome! I’ve all my longings now in town;

  Now welcome the good hour!

  SIR WAL. How cheers my mistress?

  MIS. ALL. Made lightsome e’en by him that made me heavy.

  SIR WAL. Methinks she shows gallantly, like a moon at full, sir.

  ALLWIT. True, and if she bear a male child, there’s the man in the moon, sir.

  SIR WAL. ’Tis but the boy in the moon yet, goodman calf.

  ALLWIT. There was a man, the boy had ne’er been there else.

  SIR WAL. It shall be yours, sir.

  ALLWIT. [Aside] No, by my troth, I’ll swear

  It’s none of mine; let him that got it keep it!—

  Thus do I rid myself of fear,

  Lie soft, sleep hard, drink wine, and eat good cheer.

  Exeunt

  ACT II, SCENE I

  Enter Touchwood senior and Mistress Touchwood

  MIS. TOUCH. ’Twill be so tedious, sir, to live from you,

  But that necessity must be obeyed.

  TOUCH. SEN. I would it might not, wife! the tediousness

  Will be the most part mine, that understand

  The blessings I have in thee; so to part,

  That drives the torment to a knowing heart.

  But, as thou sayst, we must give way to need,

  And live awhile asunder; our desires

  Are both too fruitful for our barren fortunes.

  How adverse runs the destiny of some creatures!

  Some only can get riches and no children;

  We only can get children and no riches:

  Then ’tis the prudent’st part to check our wills,

  And, till our state rise, make our bloods lie still.

  ’Life, every year a child, and some years two!

  Besides drinkings abroad, that’s never reckoned;

  This gear will not hold out.31

  MIS. TOUCH. Sir, for a time

  I’ll take the courtesy of my uncle’s house,

  If you be pleased to like on’t, till prosperity

  Look with a friendly eye upon our states.

  TOUCH. SEN. Honest wife, I thank thee! I never knew

  The perfect treasure thou brought’st with thee more

  Tha
n at this instant minute: a man’s happy

  When he’s at poorest, that has matched his soul

  As rightly as his body: had I married

  A sensual fool now, as ’tis hard to ’scape it

  ’Mongst gentlewomen of our time, she would ha’ hanged

  About my neck, and never left her hold

  Till she had kissed me into wanton businesses,

  Which at the waking of my better judgment

  I should have cursed most bitterly,

  And laid a thicker vengeance on my act

  Than misery of the birth; which were enough

  If it were born to greatness, whereas mine

  Is sure of beggary, though ’t were got in wine.

  Fulness of joy showeth the goodness in thee;

  Thou art a matchless wife: farewell, my joy!

  MIS. TOUCH. I shall not want your sight?

  TOUCH. SEN. I’ll see thee often,

  Talk in mirth, and play at kisses with thee;

  Anything, wench, but what may beget beggars:

  There I give o’er the set,32 throw down the cards,

  And dare not take them up.

  MIS. TOUCH. Your will be mine, sir!

  Exit

  TOUCH. SEN. This does not only make her honesty perfect,

  But her discretion, and approves her judgment.

  Had her desires been wanton, they’d been blameless,

  In being lawful ever; but of all creatures,

  I hold that wife a most unmatchèd treasure,

  That can unto her fortunes fix her pleasure,

  And not unto her blood: this is like wedlock;

  The feast of marriage is not lust, but love,

  And care of the estate. When I please blood,

  Merrily I sing and suck out others’ then:

  ’Tis many a wise man’s fault; but of all men

  I am the most unfortunate in that game

  That ever pleased both genders; I ne’er played yet

  Under a bastard; the poor wenches curse me

  To the pit where’er I come; they were ne’er served so,

  But used to have more words than one to a bargain:

  I’ve such a fatal finger in such business,

  I must forth with’t; chiefly for country wenches,

  For every harvest I shall hinder haymaking;

  I had no less than seven lay in last progress,33

  Within three weeks of one another’s time.

  Enter a Country Girl with a child

  C. GIRL. O snaphance,34 have I found you?

  TOUCH. SEN. How snaphance?

  C. GIRL. Do you see your workmanship? nay, turn not from’t,

  Nor offer to escape; for if you do,

  I’ll carry it through the streets, and follow you.

  Your name may well be called Touchwood,—a pox on you!