I would have you curse yourself now, that your bounty (Which makes men truly noble) e'er should make me A villain. O, that to avoid ingratitude For the good deed you have done me, I must do All the ill man can invent! Thus the devil Candies all sins o'er; and what heaven terms vile, That names he complimental.
FERDINAND. Be yourself; Keep your old garb of melancholy; 'twill express You envy those that stand above your reach, Yet strive not to come near 'em. This will gain Access to private lodgings, where yourself May, like a politic dormouse----
BOSOLA. As I have seen some Feed in a lord's dish, half asleep, not seeming To listen to any talk; and yet these rogues Have cut his throat in a dream. What 's my place? The provisorship o' the horse? Say, then, my corruption Grew out of horse-dung: I am your creature.
FERDINAND. Away! [Exit.]
BOSOLA. Let good men, for good deeds, covet good fame, Since place and riches oft are bribes of shame. Sometimes the devil doth preach. [Exit.]
[Scene III]<17>
[Enter FERDINAND, DUCHESS, CARDINAL, and CARIOLA]
CARDINAL. We are to part from you; and your own discretion Must now be your director.
FERDINAND. You are a widow: You know already what man is; and therefore Let not youth, high promotion, eloquence----
CARDINAL. No, Nor anything without the addition, honour, Sway your high blood.
FERDINAND. Marry! they are most luxurious<18> Will wed twice.
CARDINAL. O, fie!
FERDINAND. Their livers are more spotted Than Laban's sheep.<19>
DUCHESS. Diamonds are of most value, They say, that have pass'd through most jewellers' hands.
FERDINAND. Whores by that rule are precious.
DUCHESS. Will you hear me? I 'll never marry.
CARDINAL. So most widows say; But commonly that motion lasts no longer Than the turning of an hour-glass: the funeral sermon And it end both together.
FERDINAND. Now hear me: You live in a rank pasture, here, i' the court; There is a kind of honey-dew that 's deadly; 'T will poison your fame; look to 't. Be not cunning; For they whose faces do belie their hearts Are witches ere they arrive at twenty years, Ay, and give the devil suck.
DUCHESS. This is terrible good counsel.
FERDINAND. Hypocrisy is woven of a fine small thread, Subtler than Vulcan's engine:<20> yet, believe 't, Your darkest actions, nay, your privat'st thoughts, Will come to light.
CARDINAL. You may flatter yourself, And take your own choice; privately be married Under the eaves of night----
FERDINAND. Think 't the best voyage That e'er you made; like the irregular crab, Which, though 't goes backward, thinks that it goes right Because it goes its own way: but observe, Such weddings may more properly be said To be executed than celebrated.
CARDINAL. The marriage night Is the entrance into some prison.
FERDINAND. And those joys, Those lustful pleasures, are like heavy sleeps Which do fore-run man's mischief.
CARDINAL. Fare you well. Wisdom begins at the end: remember it. [Exit.]
DUCHESS. I think this speech between you both was studied, It came so roundly off.
FERDINAND. You are my sister; This was my father's poniard, do you see? I 'd be loth to see 't look rusty, 'cause 'twas his. I would have you give o'er these chargeable revels: A visor and a mask are whispering-rooms That were never built for goodness,--fare ye well-- And women like variety of courtship. What cannot a neat knave with a smooth tale Make a woman believe? Farewell, lusty widow. [Exit.]
DUCHESS. Shall this move me? If all my royal kindred Lay in my way unto this marriage, I 'd make them my low footsteps. And even now, Even in this hate, as men in some great battles, By apprehending danger, have achiev'd Almost impossible actions (I have heard soldiers say so), So I through frights and threatenings will assay This dangerous venture.