Fleuron from first edition of 'The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy' by John Webster (1623)
Fleuron from first edition of 'The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy' by John Webster (1623)

Actus Primus. Scena Prima.


Antonio, and Delio, Bosola, Cardmall.

Delio.

YOU are wel-come to your Country (deere Antonio}
You have bin long in France, and you returne
A very formall French-man, in your habit.
How doe you like the French Court?

Ant.
I admire it,
In seeking to reduce both State, and People
To a fix'd Order, there juditious King
Begins at home: Quits first his Royall Pallace
Of flattring Sicophants of dissolute,
And infamous persons which he sweetely termes
His Masters Master-peece (the worke of Heaven)
Considring duely, that a Princes Court
Is like a common Fountaine, whence should flow,
Pure silver-droppes ingenerall: But if 't chance
Some curs'd example poyson't neere the head,
"Death, and diseases through the whole land spread.
And what is't makes this blessed government,
But a most provident Councell, who dare freely
Informe him, the corruption of the times?

Though some oth' court hold it presumption
To instruct Princes what they ought to doe,
It is a noble duety to informe them
What they ought to for-see. Here comes Bosola
The onely Court-Gall: yet I observe his rayling
Is not for simple love of Piety:
Indeede he rayls at those things which he wants,
Would be as leacherous, covetous, or proud,
Bloody, or envious, as any man,
If he had meanes to be so: Here's the Cardinall.

Bos.
I doe haunt you still.

Card.
So.

Bos.
I have done you
Better service then to be slighted thus:
Miserable age, where onely the reward
Of doing well, is the doing of it.

Card.
You inforce your merrit to-much.

Bos.
I fell into the Gallies in your service,
Where, for two yeares together, I wore two Towells in stead of
A shirt, with a knot on the shoulder, after the fashion of a
Romaine Mantle: Slighted thus? I will thrive some way:
Black-birds fatten best in hard weather: why not I,
In these dogde dayes?

Card.
Would you could become honest,

Bos.
With all your divinity, do but direct me the way to it, I
Have knowne many travell farre for it, and yet returne as
Arrant knaves, as they went forth; because they carried
Themselves alwayes a long with them; Are you gon?
Some fellowes (they say) are possessed with the divell,
But this great fellow, were able to possesse the greatest
Divell, and make him worse.

Ant.
He hath denied thee some suit?

Bos.
He, and his brother, are like Plum-trees (that grow crooked
Over standing-pooles) they are rich, and ore-laden with
Fruite, but none but Crowes, Pyes, and Cater-pillers feede
On them: Could I be one of their flattring Panders, I
Would hang on their eares like a horse-leach, till I were full, an

Then droppe off: I pray leave me.
Who would relie upon these miserable dependances, in expectation to
Be advanc'd to morrow? what creature, ever fed worse, than hoping
Tantalus? nor ever did any man more fearefully, then he that hop'd
For a pleadon: There are rewards for hawkes, and dogges, and
When they have done us service; but for a Souldier, that hazards his
Limbes in a battaile, nothing but a kind of Geometry, is his last
Supportation.

Del.
Geometry?

Bos.
I, to hang in a faire pair of slings, take his latter-swinge in the
World, upon an honourable pair of Crowtches, from hospitall
To hospitall, fare ye well Sir. And yet do not you scorne us, for
Places in the Court, are but likes beds in the hospitall, where this
Mans head lies at that mans foote, and so lower, and lower.

Del.
I knew this fellow (seaven yeares) in the Gallies,
For a notorious murther; and 'twas thought
The Cardinal suborn'd it: he was releas'drodocico,
By the French Generall, (Gaston de Foux),
When he recover'd Naples.

Ant.
'Tis great pity,
He should be thus neglected, I have heard
He's very valiant: This foule mellancholly
Will poyson all his goodnesse, for (i'le tell you)
If too immoderate sleepe, be truly sayd
To be an inward rust unto the soule,
It then doth follow want of action
Breeds all blacke male-contents, and their close rearing
(Like mothes in cloath) doe hurt for want of wearing.