The Duchess of Malfi by Frank Kermode

Author:Frank Kermode [Kermode, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Anthologies (Multiple Authors), Drama, Fiction, Performing Arts, Shakespeare, Theater
ISBN: 9780307769688
Google: q2UqqrT28SoC
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2010-12-29T00:00:00+00:00

We all, I hope, will take it that are here.

EVAD. Nay, then, I’ll give you o’er.

DULA. So I will make

The ablest man in Rhodes, or his heart ache.

EVAD. Wilt take my place to-night?

DULA. I’ll hold your cards against any two I know.

EVAD. What wilt thou do?

DULA. Madam, we’ll do’t, and make ’em leave play too.

EVAD. Aspatia, take her part.

DULA. I will refuse it:

She will pluck down a side;16 she does not use it.

EVAD. Why, do, I prithee.

DULA. You will find the play

Quickly, because your head lies well that way.

EVAD. I thank thee, Dula. Would thou couldst instil

Some of thy mirth into Aspatia!

Nothing but sad thoughts in her breast do dwell:

Methinks, a mean betwixt you would do well.

DULA. She is in love: hang me, if I were so,

But I could run my country. I love too

To do those things that people in love do.

ASP. It was a timeless17 smile should prove my cheek;

It were a fitter hour for me to laugh,

When at the altar the religious priest

Were pacifying the offended powers

With sacrifice, than now. This should have been

My rite; and all your hands have been employed

In giving me a spotless offering

To young Amintor’s bed, as we are now

For you. Pardon, Evadne: would my worth

Were great as yours, or that the King, or he,

Or both, thought so! Perhaps he found me worthless:

But till he did so, in these ears of mine,

These credulous ears, he poured the sweetest words

That art or love could frame. If he were false,

Pardon it, heaven! and, if I did want

Virtue, you safely may forgive that too;

For I have lost none that I had from you.

EVAD. Nay, leave this sad talk, madam.

ASP. Would I could!

Then should I leave the cause.

EVAD. See, if you have not spoiled all Dula’s mirth!

ASP. Thou think’st thy heart hard; but, if thou be’st caught,

Remember me; thou shalt perceive a fire

Shot suddenly into thee.

DULA. That’s not so good; let ’em shoot anything but fire,

I fear ’em not.

ASP. Well, wench, thou may’st be taken.

EVAD. Ladies, good night: I’ll do the rest myself.

DULA. Nay, let your lord do some.

ASP. [Singing] Lay a garland on my hearse

Of the dismal yew—

EVAD. That’s one of your sad songs, madam.

ASP. Believe me, ’tis a very pretty one.

EVAD. How is it, madam?

ASP. [Singing]

Lay a garland on my hearse

Of the dismal yew;

Maidens, willow-branches bear;

Say I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm

From my hour of birth:

Upon my buried body lie

Lightly, gentle earth!

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