The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster (books to read for teens .txt) 📕
Description
John Webster was a later contemporary of Shakespeare, and The Duchess of Malfi, Webster’s best known play, is considered among the best of the period. It appears to have been first performed in 1612–13 at the Blackfriars before moving on to the larger and more famous Globe Theatre, and was later published in 1623.
The play is loosely based on a real Duchess of Amalfi, a widow who marries beneath her station. On learning of this, her brothers become enraged and vow their revenge. Soon the intrigue, deceit, and murders begin. Marked by the period’s love of spectacular violence, each character exacts his revenge, and in turn suffers vengeance at the hands of others. Coming after Shakespeare’s equally sanguine Hamlet and Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy, Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi brings to a close the era of the great Senecan tragedies of blood and revenge. As the Jacobean period progressed, the spectacle became more violent and dark, reflecting the public’s growing dissatisfaction with the corruption of King James’ court.
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- Author: John Webster
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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.
I have a present for your grace.
DuchessFor me, sir?
BosolaApricocks, madam.
DuchessO, sir, where are they?
I have heard of none to-year39
Aside. Good; her colour rises.
DuchessIndeed, I thank you: they are wondrous fair ones.
What an unskilful fellow is our gardener!
We shall have none this month.
Will not your grace pare them?
DuchessNo: they taste of musk, methinks; indeed they do.
BosolaI know not: yet I wish your grace had par’d ’em.
DuchessWhy?
BosolaI forgot to tell you, the knave gardener,
Only to raise his profit by them the sooner,
Did ripen them in horse-dung.
O, you jest.—
You shall judge: pray, taste one.
Indeed, madam,
I do not love the fruit.
Sir, you are loth
To rob us of our dainties. ’Tis a delicate fruit;
They say they are restorative.
’Tis a pretty art,
This grafting.
’Tis so; a bettering of nature.
BosolaTo make a pippin grow upon a crab,
A damson on a blackthorn.—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 apparently40
The young springal41 cutting a caper in her belly.
I thank you, Bosola: they were right good ones,
If they do not make me sick.
How now, madam!
DuchessThis green fruit and my stomach are not friends:
How they swell me!
Aside. Nay, you are too much swell’d already.
DuchessO, I am in an extreme cold sweat!
BosolaI am very sorry.
Exit. DuchessLights to my chamber!—O good Antonio,
I fear I am undone!
Lights there, lights!
Exeunt Duchess and Ladies. AntonioO my most trusty Delio, we are lost!
I fear she’s fall’n in labour; and there’s left
No time for her remove.
Have you prepar’d
Those ladies to attend her; and procur’d
That politic safe conveyance for the midwife
Your duchess plotted?
I have.
DelioMake 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.
Fie, fie, the physicians
Will then flock to her.
For that you may pretend
She’ll use some prepar’d antidote of her own,
Lest the physicians should re-poison her.
I am lost in amazement: I know not what to think on’t.
Exeunt. Scene IIA hall in the same palace.
Enter Bosala and Old Lady. Bosola So, so, there’s no question but her techiness42 and most vulturous eating of the apricocks are apparent signs of breeding, now? Old Lady I am in haste, sir. Bosola There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desire to see the glasshouse— Old Lady Nay, pray, let me go. I will hear no more of the glasshouse. You are still43 abusing women! Bosola Who, I? No; only, by the way now and then, mention your frailties. The orange-tree bears ripe and green fruit and blossoms all together; and some of you give entertainment for pure love, but more for more precious reward. The lusty spring smells well; but drooping autumn tastes well. If we have the same golden showers that rained in the time of Jupiter the thunderer, you have the same Danaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thou never study the mathematics? Old Lady What’s that, sir? Bosola Why, to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in one centre. Go, go, give your foster-daughters good counsel: tell them, that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman’s girdle, like a false rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes. Exit Old Lady. Enter Antonio, Roderigo, and Grisolan. AntonioShut up the court-gates.
RoderigoWhy, sir? What’s the danger?
AntonioShut up the posterns presently, and call
All the officers o’ th’ court.
I shall instantly.
Exit. AntonioWho keeps the key o’ th’ park-gate?
RoderigoForobosco.
AntonioLet him bring’t presently.
Re-enter Grisolan with Servants. First Servant O, gentleman o’ th’ court, the foulest treason! Bosola Aside. If that these apricocks should be poison’d now, Without my knowledge? First Servant There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess’ bedchamber— Second Servant A Switzer! First Servant With a pistol— Second Servant There was a cunning traitor! First Servant And all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets. Second Servant O wicked cannibal! First Servant ’Twas a French plot, upon my life. Second Servant To see what the devil can do! Antonio Are all the officers here? Servants We are. AntonioGentlemen,
We have lost much plate, you know; and but this evening
Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats,
Are missing in the duchess’ cabinet.
Are the gates shut?
Yes.
Antonio’Tis the duchess’ pleasure
Each officer be lock’d into his chamber
Till the sun-rising; and to send the keys
Of all their chests and of their outward doors
Into her bedchamber. She is very sick.
At her pleasure.
AntonioShe entreats you take’t not ill: the innocent
Shall be the more approv’d by it.
How fares it with the duchess?
AntonioShe’s expos’d
Unto the worst of torture, pain, and fear.
Speak to her all happy comfort.
AntonioHow I do play the fool with mine own danger!
You are this night, dear friend, to post to Rome:
My life lies in your service.
Do not doubt me.
AntonioO, ’tis far from me: and yet fear presents me
Somewhat that looks like danger.
Believe it,
’Tis but the shadow
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