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Read Ebook: The White Devil by Webster John
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Ebook has 346 lines and 14330 words, and 7 pages
Flam. It will show in you a supremacy of judgment.
Cam. True, and a mind differing from the tumultuary opinion; for, quae negata, grata.
Flam. Right: you are the adamant shall draw her to you, though you keep distance off.
Cam. A philosophical reason.
Flam. Walk by her a' th' nobleman's fashion, and tell her you will lie with her at the end of the progress.
Vit. To do what, sir?
Cam. To lie with you to-night. Your silkworm used to fast every third day, and the next following spins the better. To-morrow at night, I am for you.
Vit. You 'll spin a fair thread, trust to 't.
Flam. But do you hear, I shall have you steal to her chamber about midnight.
Cam. Do you think so? why look you, brother, because you shall not say I 'll gull you, take the key, lock me into the chamber, and say you shall be sure of me.
Flam. In troth I will; I 'll be your jailor once.
Cam. A pox on 't, as I am a Christian! tell me to-morrow how scurvily she takes my unkind parting.
Flam. I will.
Cam. Didst thou not mark the jest of the silkworm? Good-night; in faith, I will use this trick often.
Flam. Do, do, do. Come, sister, darkness hides your blush. Women are like cursed dogs: civility keeps them tied all daytime, but they are let loose at midnight; then they do most good, or most mischief. My lord, my lord!
Zanche brings out a carpet, spreads it, and lays on it two fair cushions. Enter Cornelia listening, but unperceived.
Brach. Give credit: I could wish time would stand still, And never end this interview, this hour; But all delight doth itself soon'st devour. Let me into your bosom, happy lady, Pour out, instead of eloquence, my vows. Loose me not, madam, for if you forgo me, I am lost eternally.
Vit. Sir, in the way of pity, I wish you heart-whole.
Brach. You are a sweet physician.
Vit. Sure, sir, a loathed cruelty in ladies Is as to doctors many funerals: It takes away their credit.
Brach. Excellent creature! We call the cruel fair; what name for you That are so merciful?
Zan. See now they close.
Flam. Most happy union.
Corn. My fears are fall'n upon me: oh, my heart! My son the pander! now I find our house Sinking to ruin. Earthquakes leave behind, Where they have tyranniz'd, iron, or lead, or stone; But woe to ruin, violent lust leaves none.
Brach. What value is this jewel?
Vit. 'Tis the ornament of a weak fortune.
Brach. In sooth, I 'll have it; nay, I will but change My jewel for your jewel.
Flam. Excellent; His jewel for her jewel: well put in, duke.
Brach. Nay, let me see you wear it.
Vit. Here, sir?
Brach. Nay, lower, you shall wear my jewel lower.
Flam. That 's better: she must wear his jewel lower.
Vit. To pass away the time, I 'll tell your grace A dream I had last night.
Brach. Most wishedly.
Vit. A foolish idle dream: Methought I walked about the mid of night Into a churchyard, where a goodly yew-tree Spread her large root in ground: under that yew, As I sat sadly leaning on a grave, Chequer'd with cross-sticks, there came stealing in Your duchess and my husband; one of them A pickaxe bore, th' other a rusty spade, And in rough terms they 'gan to challenge me About this yew.
Brach. That tree?
Vit. This harmless yew; They told me my intent was to root up That well-grown yew, and plant i' the stead of it A wither'd blackthorn; and for that they vow'd To bury me alive. My husband straight With pickaxe 'gan to dig, and your fell duchess With shovel, like a fury, voided out The earth and scatter'd bones: Lord, how methought I trembled, and yet for all this terror I could not pray.
Flam. No; the devil was in your dream.
Vit. When to my rescue there arose, methought, A whirlwind, which let fall a massy arm From that strong plant; And both were struck dead by that sacred yew, In that base shallow grave that was their due.
Flam. Excellent devil! She hath taught him in a dream To make away his duchess and her husband.
Brach. Sweetly shall I interpret this your dream. You are lodg'd within his arms who shall protect you From all the fevers of a jealous husband, From the poor envy of our phlegmatic duchess. I 'll seat you above law, and above scandal; Give to your thoughts the invention of delight, And the fruition; nor shall government Divide me from you longer, than a care To keep you great: you shall to me at once Be dukedom, health, wife, children, friends, and all.
Corn. Woe to light hearts, they still forerun our fall!
Flam. What fury raised thee up? away, away. Void the chamber. You are welcome; will you sit?--I pray, my lord, Be you my orator, my heart 's too full; I 'll second you anon.
Mont. Ere I begin, Let me entreat your grace forgo all passion, Which may be raised by my free discourse.
Brach. As silent as i' th' church: you may proceed.
Mont. It is a wonder to your noble friends, That you, having as 'twere enter'd the world With a free scepter in your able hand, And having to th' use of nature well applied High gifts of learning, should in your prime age Neglect your awful throne for the soft down Of an insatiate bed. O my lord, The drunkard after all his lavish cups Is dry, and then is sober; so at length, When you awake from this lascivious dream, Repentance then will follow, like the sting Plac'd in the adder's tail. Wretched are princes When fortune blasteth but a petty flower Of their unwieldy crowns, or ravisheth But one pearl from their scepter; but alas! When they to wilful shipwreck lose good fame, All princely titles perish with their name.
Mont. Enough to give you taste How far I am from flattering your greatness.
Brach. Now you that are his second, what say you? Do not like young hawks fetch a course about; Your game flies fair, and for you.
Fran. Do not fear it: I 'll answer you in your own hawking phrase. Some eagles that should gaze upon the sun Seldom soar high, but take their lustful ease, Since they from dunghill birds their prey can seize. You know Vittoria?
Brach. Yes.
Fran. You shift your shirt there, When you retire from tennis?
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