Overview
- Female: 1
- Male: 1
Context
The Duchess has been taken prisoner in her own palace by her brothers, Ferdinand and the Cardinal. Ferdinand has left the dirty work of torturing his sister to his servant, Bosola. Bosola carries out Ferdinand’s orders but he feels sorry for the Duchess. The Duchess has just been convinced that her husband, Antonio, is dead and she is now tortured with the idea that her children have also been murdered.
[For the full play text, see: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2232/2232-h/2232-h.htm]
to read the context for this scene from The Duchess of Malfi and to unlock other amazing theatre resources!Text
DUCHESS. What witchcraft doth he practise, that he hath left
A dead man's hand here?
[Here is discovered, behind a traverse, the artificial figures of ANTONIO and his children, appearing as if they were dead.]
BOSOLA. Look you, here 's the piece from which 'twas ta'en.
He doth present you this sad spectacle,
That, now you know directly they are dead,
Hereafter you may wisely cease to grieve
For that which cannot be recovered.
DUCHESS. There is not between heaven and earth one wish
I stay for after this. It wastes me more
Than were 't my picture, fashion'd out of wax,
Stuck with a magical needle, and then buried
In some foul dunghill; and yon 's an excellent property
For a tyrant, which I would account mercy.
BOSOLA. What's that?
DUCHESS. If they would bind me to that lifeless trunk,
And let me freeze to death.
BOSOLA. Come, you must live.
DUCHESS. That's the greatest torture souls feel in hell,
In hell, that they must live, and cannot die.
Portia, I 'll new kindle thy coals again,
And revive the rare and almost dead example
Of a loving wife.
BOSOLA. O, fie! despair? Remember
You are a Christian.
DUCHESS. The church enjoins fasting:
I'll starve myself to death.
BOSOLA. Leave this vain sorrow.
Things being at the worst begin to mend: the bee
When he hath shot his sting into your hand,
May then play with your eye-lid.
DUCHESS. Good comfortable fellow,
Persuade a wretch that 's broke upon the wheel
To have all his bones new set; entreat him live
To be executed again. Who must despatch me?
I account this world a tedious theatre,
For I do play a part in't 'gainst my will.
BOSOLA. Come, be of comfort; I will save your life.
DUCHESS. Indeed, I have not leisure to tend so small a business.
BOSOLA. Now, by my life, I pity you.
DUCHESS. Thou art a fool, then,
To waste thy pity on a thing so wretched
As cannot pity itself. I am full of daggers.
Puff, let me blow these vipers from me.
John Webster, The Duchess of Malfi, Act 4, Sc. 1 ll.54-91.
Links
More Scenes
All scenes are the property and copyright of their owners.
Scenes are presented on StageAgent for educational purposes only. If you would like to give a public performance of this scene, please obtain authorization from the appropriate licensor.