and yet do not you scorn us; for places in the court are but like beds in the hospital, where this man's head lies at that man's foot, and so lower and lower. [Exit.] DELIO. I knew this fellow seven years in the galleys For a notorious murder; and 'twas thought The cardinal suborn'd it: he was releas'd By the French general, Gaston de Foix, When he recover'd Naples. ANTONIO. 'Tis great pity He should be thus neglected: I have heard He 's very valiant. This foul melancholy Will poison all his goodness; for, I 'll tell you, If too immoderate sleep be truly said To be an inward rust unto the soul, If then doth follow want of action Breeds all black malcontents; and their close rearing, Like moths in cloth, do hurt for want of wearing.
SCENE II[3] ANTONIO, DELIO, [Enter SILVIO, CASTRUCCIO, JULIA, RODERIGO and GRISOLAN] DELIO. The presence 'gins to fill: you promis'd me To make me the partaker of the natures Of some of your great courtiers. ANTONIO. The lord cardinal's And other strangers' that are now in court? I shall.—Here comes the great Calabrian duke. [Enter FERDINAND and Attendants] FERDINAND. Who took the ring oftenest?[4] SILVIO. Antonio Bologna, my lord. FERDINAND. Our sister duchess' great-master of her household? Give him the jewel.—When shall we leave this sportive action, and fall to action indeed? CASTRUCCIO. Methinks, my lord, you should not desire to go to war in person. FERDINAND. Now for some gravity.—Why, my lord? CASTRUCCIO. It is fitting a soldier arise to be a prince, but not necessary a prince descend to be a captain. FERDINAND. No? CASTRUCCIO. No, my lord; he were far better do it by a deputy. FERDINAND. Why should he not as well sleep or eat by a deputy? This might take idle, offensive, and base office from him, whereas the other deprives him of honour. CASTRUCCIO. Believe my experience, that realm is never long in quiet where the ruler is a soldier. FERDINAND. Thou toldest me thy wife could not endure fighting. CASTRUCCIO. True, my lord. FERDINAND. And of a jest she broke of[5] a captain she met full of wounds: I have forgot it. CASTRUCCIO. She told him, my lord, he was a pitiful fellow, to lie, like the children of Ismael, all in tents.[6] FERDINAND. Why, there's a wit were able to undo all the chirurgeons[7] o' the city; for although gallants should quarrel, and had drawn their weapons, and were ready to go to it, yet her persuasions would make them put up. CASTRUCCIO. That she would, my lord.—How do you like my Spanish gennet?[8] RODERIGO. He is all fire. FERDINAND. I am of Pliny's opinion, I think he was begot by the wind; he runs as if he were ballass'd[9] with quicksilver. SILVIO. True, my lord, he reels from the tilt often. RODERIGO, GRISOLAN. Ha, ha, ha! FERDINAND. Why do you laugh? Methinks you that are courtiers should be my touch-wood, take fire when I give fire; that is, laugh when I laugh, were the subject never so witty. CASTRUCCIO. True, my lord: I myself have heard a very good jest, and have scorn'd to seem to have so silly a wit as to understand it. FERDINAND. But I can laugh at your fool, my lord. CASTRUCCIO. He cannot speak, you know, but he makes faces; my lady cannot abide him. FERDINAND. No? CASTRUCCIO. Nor endure to be in merry company; for she says too much laughing, and too much company, fills her too full of the wrinkle. FERDINAND. I would, then, have a mathematical instrument made for her face, that she might not laugh out of compass.—I shall shortly visit you at Milan, Lord Silvio. SILVIO. Your grace shall arrive most welcome. FERDINAND. You are a good horseman, Antonio; you have excellent riders in France: what do you think of good horsemanship? ANTONIO. Nobly, my lord: as out of the Grecian horse issued many famous princes, so out of brave horsemanship arise the first sparks of growing resolution, that raise the mind to noble action. FERDINAND. You have bespoke it worthily. SILVIO. Your brother, the lord cardinal, and sister duchess. [Enter CARDINAL, with DUCHESS, and CARIOLA] CARDINAL. Are the galleys come about? GRISOLAN. They are, my lord. FERDINAND. Here 's the Lord Silvio is come to take his leave. DELIO. Now, sir, your promise: what 's that cardinal? I mean his temper? They say he 's a brave fellow, Will play his five thousand crowns at tennis, dance, Court ladies, and one that hath fought single combats. ANTONIO. Some such flashes superficially hang on him for form; but observe his inward character: he is a melancholy churchman. The spring in his face is nothing but the engend'ring of toads; where he is jealous of any man, he lays worse plots for them than ever was impos'd on Hercules, for he strews in his way flatterers, panders, intelligencers, atheists, and a thousand such political monsters. He should have been Pope; but instead of coming to it by the primitive decency of the church, he did bestow bribes so largely and so impudently as if he would have carried it away without heaven's knowledge. Some good he hath done—— DELIO. You have given too much of him. What 's his brother? ANTONIO. The duke there? A most perverse and turbulent nature. What appears in him mirth is merely outside; If he laught heartily, it is to laugh All honesty out of fashion. DELIO. Twins? ANTONIO. In quality. He speaks with others' tongues, and hears men's suits With others' ears; will seem to sleep o' the bench Only to entrap offenders in their answers; Dooms men to death by information; Rewards by hearsay. DELIO. Then the law to him Is like a foul, black cobweb to a spider— He makes it his dwelling and a prison To entangle those shall feed him. ANTONIO. Most true: He never pays debts unless they be shrewd turns, And those he will confess that he doth owe. Last, for this brother there, the cardinal, They that do flatter him most say oracles Hang at his lips; and verily I believe them, For the devil speaks in them. But for their sister, the right noble duchess, You never fix'd your eye on three fair medals Cast in one figure, of so different temper. For her discourse, it is so full of rapture, You only will begin then to be sorry When she doth end her speech, and wish, in wonder, She held it less vain-glory to talk much, Than your penance to hear her. Whilst she speaks, She throws upon a man so sweet a look That it were able to raise one to a galliard.[10] That lay in a dead palsy, and to dote On that sweet countenance; but in that look There speaketh so divine a continence As cuts off all lascivious and vain hope. Her days are practis'd in such noble virtue, That sure her nights, nay, more, her very sleeps, Are more in heaven than other ladies' shrifts. Let all sweet ladies break their flatt'ring glasses, And dress themselves in her. DELIO. Fie, Antonio, You play the wire-drawer with her commendations. ANTONIO. I 'll case the picture up: only thus much; All her particular worth grows to this sum— She stains[11] the time past, lights the time to come. CARIOLA. You must attend my lady in the gallery, Some half and hour hence. ANTONIO. I shall. [Exeunt ANTONIO and DELIO.] FERDINAND. Sister, I have a suit to you. DUCHESS. To me, sir? FERDINAND. A gentleman here, Daniel de Bosola, One that was in the galleys—— DUCHESS. Yes, I know him. FERDINAND. A worthy fellow he is: pray, let me entreat for The provisorship of your horse. DUCHESS. Your knowledge of him Commends him and prefers him. FERDINAND. Call him hither. [Exit Attendant.] We [are] now upon[12] parting. Good Lord Silvio, Do us commend to all our noble friends At the leaguer. SILVIO. Sir, I shall. [DUCHESS.] You are for Milan? SILVIO. I am. DUCHESS. Bring the caroches.[13]—We 'll bring you down To the haven. [Exeunt DUCHESS, SILVIO, CASTRUCCIO, RODERIGO, GRISOLAN, CARIOLA, JULIA, and Attendants.] CARDINAL. Be sure you entertain that Bosola For your intelligence.[14] I would not be seen in 't; And therefore many times I have slighted him When he did court our furtherance, as this morning. FERDINAND. Antonio, the great-master of her household, Had been far fitter. CARDINAL. You are deceiv'd in him. His nature is too honest for such business.— He comes: I 'll leave you. [Exit.] [Re-enter BOSOLA] BOSOLA. I was lur'd to you. FERDINAND. My brother, here, the cardinal, could never Abide you. BOSOLA. Never since he was in my debt. FERDINAND. May be some oblique character in your face Made him suspect you. BOSOLA. Doth he study physiognomy? There 's no more credit to be given to the face Than to a sick man's urine, which some call The physician's whore, because she cozens[15] him. He did suspect me wrongfully. FERDINAND. For that You must give great men leave to take their times. Distrust doth cause us seldom be deceiv'd. You see the oft shaking of the cedar-tree Fastens it more at root. BOSOLA. Yet take heed; For to suspect a friend unworthily Instructs him the next way to suspect you, And prompts him to deceive you. FERDINAND. There 's gold. BOSOLA. So: What follows? [Aside.] Never rain'd such showers as these Without thunderbolts i' the tail of them.—Whose throat must I cut? FERDINAND. Your inclination to shed blood rides post Before my occasion to use you. I give you that To live i' the court here, and observe the duchess; To note all the particulars of her haviour, What suitors do solicit her for marriage, And whom she best affects. She 's a young widow: I would not have her marry again. BOSOLA. No, sir? FERDINAND. Do not you ask the reason; but be satisfied. I say I would not. BOSOLA. It seems you would create me One of your familiars. FERDINAND. Familiar! What 's that? BOSOLA. Why, a very quaint invisible
