The Duchess of Malfi

  PESCARA.  Doctor, he did not fear you thoroughly.  DOCTOR.  True; I was somewhat too forward.  BOSOLA.  Mercy upon me, what a fatal judgment  Hath fall'n upon this Ferdinand!  PESCARA.                          Knows your grace  What accident hath brought unto the prince  This strange distraction?  CARDINAL.  [Aside.] I must feign somewhat. – Thus they say it grew.  You have heard it rumour'd, for these many years  None of our family dies but there is seen  The shape of an old woman, which is given  By tradition to us to have been murder'd  By her nephews for her riches.  Such a figure  One night, as the prince sat up late at 's book,  Appear'd to him; when crying out for help,  The gentleman of 's chamber found his grace  All on a cold sweat, alter'd much in face  And language:  since which apparition,  He hath grown worse and worse, and I much fear  He cannot live.  BOSOLA.          Sir, I would speak with you.  PESCARA.  We 'll leave your grace,  Wishing to the sick prince, our noble lord,  All health of mind and body.  CARDINAL.                     You are most welcome.

[Exeunt PESCARA, MALATESTI, and DOCTOR.]

  Are you come? so. – [Aside.] This fellow must not know  By any means I had intelligence  In our duchess' death; for, though I counsell'd it,  The full of all th' engagement seem'd to grow  ]From Ferdinand. – Now, sir, how fares our sister?  I do not think but sorrow makes her look  Like to an oft-dy'd garment:  she shall now  Take comfort from me.  Why do you look so wildly?  O, the fortune of your master here the prince  Dejects you; but be you of happy comfort:  If you 'll do one thing for me I 'll entreat,  Though he had a cold tomb-stone o'er his bones,  I 'd make you what you would be.  BOSOLA.                           Any thing;  Give it me in a breath, and let me fly to 't.  They that think long small expedition win,  For musing much o' th' end cannot begin.

[Enter JULIA]

  JULIA.  Sir, will you come into supper?  CARDINAL.                                I am busy; leave me[.]  JULIA [Aside.]  What an excellent shape hath that fellow!

Exit.

  CARDINAL.  'Tis thus.  Antonio lurks here in Milan:  Inquire him out, and kill him.  While he lives,  Our sister cannot marry; and I have thought  Of an excellent match for her.  Do this, and style me  Thy advancement.  BOSOLA.  But by what means shall I find him out?  CARDINAL.  There is a gentleman call'd Delio  Here in the camp, that hath been long approv'd  His loyal friend.  Set eye upon that fellow;  Follow him to mass; may be Antonio,  Although he do account religion  But a school-name, for fashion of the world  May accompany him; or else go inquire out  Delio's confessor, and see if you can bribe  Him to reveal it.  There are a thousand ways  A man might find to trace him; as to know  What fellows haunt the Jews for taking up  Great sums of money, for sure he 's in want;  Or else to go to the picture-makers, and learn  Who bought130 her picture lately:  some of these  Happily may take.  BOSOLA.            Well, I 'll not freeze i' th' business:  I would see that wretched thing, Antonio,  Above all sights i' th' world.  CARDINAL.                       Do, and be happy.

Exit.

  BOSOLA.  This fellow doth breed basilisks in 's eyes,  He 's nothing else but murder; yet he seems  Not to have notice of the duchess' death.  'Tis his cunning:  I must follow his example;  There cannot be a surer way to trace  Than that of an old fox.

[Re-enter JULIA, with a pistol]

  JULIA.  So, sir, you are well met.  BOSOLA.                             How Now!  JULIA.  Nay, the doors are fast enough:  Now, sir, I will make you confess your treachery.  BOSOLA.  Treachery!  JULIA.               Yes, confess to me  Which of my women 'twas you hir'd to put  Love-powder into my drink?  BOSOLA.  Love-powder!  JULIA.                 Yes, when I was at Malfi.  Why should I fall in love with such a face else?  I have already suffer'd for thee so much pain,  The only remedy to do me good  Is to kill my longing.  BOSOLA.                 Sure, your pistol holds  Nothing but perfumes or kissing-comfits.131  Excellent lady!  You have a pretty way on 't to discover  Your longing.  Come, come, I 'll disarm you,  And arm you thus:  yet this is wondrous strange.  JULIA.  Compare thy form and my eyes together,  You 'll find my love no such great miracle.  Now you 'll say  I am wanton:  this nice modesty in ladies  Is but a troublesome familiar  That haunts them.  BOSOLA.  Know you me, I am a blunt soldier.  JULIA.                                       The better:  Sure, there wants fire where there are no lively sparks  Of roughness.  BOSOLA.  And I want compliment.  JULIA.                           Why, ignorance  In courtship cannot make you do amiss,  If you have a heart to do well.  BOSOLA.                          You are very fair.  JULIA.  Nay, if you lay beauty to my charge,  I must plead unguilty.  BOSOLA.                 Your bright eyes  Carry a quiver of darts in them sharper  Than sun-beams.  JULIA.           You will mar me with commendation,  Put yourself to the charge of courting me,  Whereas now I woo you.  BOSOLA.  [Aside.] I have it, I will work upon this creature. —  Let us grow most amorously familiar:  If the great cardinal now should see me thus,  Would he not count me a villain?  JULIA.  No; he might count me a wanton,  Not lay a scruple of offence on you;  For if I see and steal a diamond,  The fault is not i' th' stone, but in me the thief  That purloins it.  I am sudden with you.  We that are great women of pleasure use to cut off  These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings,  And in an instant join the sweet delight  And the pretty excuse together.  Had you been i' th' street,  Under my chamber-window, even there  I should have courted you.  BOSOLA.  O, you are an excellent lady!  JULIA.  Bid me do somewhat for you presently  To express I love you.  BOSOLA.                 I will; and if you love me,  Fail not to effect it.  The cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy;  Demand the cause, let him not put you off  With feign'd excuse; discover the main ground on 't.  JULIA.  Why would you know this?  BOSOLA.                           I have depended on him,  And I hear that he is fall'n in some disgrace  With the emperor:  if he be, like the mice  That forsake falling houses, I would shift  To other dependance.  JULIA.                You shall not need  Follow the wars:  I 'll be your maintenance.  BOSOLA.  And I your loyal servant:  but I cannot  Leave my calling.  JULIA.             Not leave an ungrateful  General for the love of a sweet lady!  You are like some cannot sleep in feather-beds,  But must have blocks for their pillows.  BOSOLA.                                  Will you do this?  JULIA.  Cunningly.  BOSOLA.  To-morrow I 'll expect th' intelligence.  JULIA.  To-morrow! get you into my cabinet;  You shall have it with you.  Do not delay me,  No more than I do you:  I am like one  That is condemn'd; I have my pardon promis'd,  But I would see it seal'd.  Go, get you in:  You shall see my wind my tongue about his heart  Like a skein of silk.

[Exit BOSOLA.]

[Re-enter CARDINAL]

  CARDINAL.              Where are you?

[Enter Servants.]

  SERVANTS.                              Here.  CARDINAL.  Let none, upon your lives, have conference  With the Prince Ferdinand, unless I know it. —  [Aside] In this distraction he may reveal  The murder.

[Exeunt Servants.]

               Yond 's my lingering consumption:  I am weary of her, and by any means  Would be quit of.  JULIA.             How now, my lord! what ails you?  CARDINAL.  Nothing.  JULIA.               O, you are much alter'd:  Come, I must be your secretary, and remove  This lead from off your bosom:  what 's the matter?  CARDINAL.  I may not tell you.  JULIA.  Are you so far in love with sorrow  You cannot part with part of it?  Or think you  I cannot love your grace when you are sad  As well as merry?  Or do you suspect  I, that have been a secret to your heart  These many winters, cannot be the same  Unto your tongue?  CARDINAL.          Satisfy thy longing, —  The only way to make thee keep my counsel  Is, not to tell thee.  JULIA.                 Tell your echo this,  Or flatterers, that like echoes still report  What they hear though most imperfect, and not me;  For if that you be true unto yourself,  I 'll know.  CARDINAL.     Will you rack me?  JULIA.                           No, judgment shall  Draw it from you:  it is an equal fault,  To tell one's secrets unto all or none.  CARDINAL.  The first argues folly.  JULIA.  But the last tyranny.  CARDINAL.  Very well:  why, imagine I have committed  Some secret deed which I desire the world  May never hear of.  JULIA.              Therefore may not I know it?  You have conceal'd for me as great a sin  As adultery.  Sir, never was occasion  For perfect trial of my constancy  Till now:  sir, I beseech you —  CARDINAL.                           You 'll repent it.  JULIA.  Never.  CARDINAL.  It hurries thee to ruin:  I 'll not tell thee.  Be well advis'd, and think what danger 'tis  To receive a prince's secrets.  They that do,  Had need have their breasts hoop'd with adamant  To contain them.  I pray thee, yet be satisfi'd;  Examine thine own frailty; 'tis more easy  To tie knots than unloose them.  'Tis a secret  That, like a ling'ring poison, may chance lie  Spread in thy veins, and kill thee seven year hence.  JULIA.  Now you dally with me.  CARDINAL.                       No more; thou shalt know it.  By my appointment the great Duchess of Malfi  And two of her young children, four nights since,  Were strangl'd.  JULIA.           O heaven! sir, what have you done!  CARDINAL.  How now?  How settles this?  Think you your bosom  Will be a grave dark and obscure enough  For such a secret?  JULIA.              You have undone yourself, sir.  CARDINAL.  Why?  JULIA.           It lies not in me to conceal it.  CARDINAL.                                          No?  Come, I will swear you to 't upon this book.  JULIA.  Most religiously.  CARDINAL.                  Kiss it.       [She kisses the book.]  Now you shall never utter it; thy curiosity  Hath undone thee; thou 'rt poison'd with that book.  Because I knew thou couldst not keep my counsel,  I have bound thee to 't by death.

[Re-enter BOSOLA]

  BOSOLA.  For pity-sake, hold!  CARDINAL.                      Ha, Bosola!  JULIA.                                      I forgive you  This equal piece of justice you have done;  For I betray'd your counsel to that fellow.  He over-heard it; that was the cause I said  It lay not in me to conceal it.  BOSOLA.  O foolish woman,  Couldst not thou have poison'd him?  JULIA.                               'Tis weakness,  Too much to think what should have been done.  I go,  I know not whither.[Dies.]  CARDINAL.            Wherefore com'st thou hither?  BOSOLA.  That I might find a great man like yourself,  Not out of his wits, as the Lord Ferdinand,  To remember my service.  CARDINAL.  I 'll have thee hew'd in pieces.  BOSOLA.  Make not yourself such a promise of that life  Which is not yours to dispose of.  CARDINAL.                          Who plac'd thee here?  BOSOLA.  Her lust, as she intended.  CARDINAL.                            Very well:  Now you know me for your fellow-murderer.  BOSOLA.  And wherefore should you lay fair marble colours  Upon your rotten purposes to me?  Unless you imitate some that do plot great treasons,  And when they have done, go hide themselves i' th' grave  Of those were actors in 't?  CARDINAL.                    No more; there is  A fortune attends thee.  BOSOLA.  Shall I go sue to Fortune any longer?  'Tis the fool's pilgrimage.  CARDINAL.  I have honours in store for thee.  BOSOLA.  There are a many ways that conduct to seeming  Honour, and some of them very dirty ones.  CARDINAL.  Throw to the devil  Thy melancholy.  The fire burns well;  What need we keep a stirring of 't, and make  A greater smother?132 Thou wilt kill Antonio?  BOSOLA.  Yes.  CARDINAL.      Take up that body.  BOSOLA.                            I think I shall  Shortly grow the common bier for church-yards.  CARDINAL.  I will allow thee some dozen of attendants  To aid thee in the murder.BOSOLA. O, by no means. Physicians that apply horse-leechesto any rank swelling use to cut off their tails, that the bloodmay run through them the faster: let me have no train when I goto shed blood, less it make me have a greater when I rideto the gallows.  CARDINAL.  Come to me after midnight, to help to remove  That body to her own lodging.  I 'll give out  She died o' th' plague; 'twill breed the less inquiry  After her death.  BOSOLA.  Where 's Castruccio her husband?  CARDINAL.  He 's rode to Naples, to take possession  Of Antonio's citadel.  BOSOLA.  Believe me, you have done a very happy turn.  CARDINAL.  Fail not to come.  There is the master-key  Of our lodgings; and by that you may conceive  What trust I plant in you.  BOSOLA.                     You shall find me ready.

Exit CARDINAL.

  O poor Antonio, though nothing be so needful  To thy estate as pity, yet I find  Nothing so dangerous!  I must look to my footing:  In such slippery ice-pavements men had need  To be frost-nail'd well, they may break their necks else;  The precedent 's here afore me.  How this man  Bears up in blood! seems fearless!  Why, 'tis well;  Security some men call the suburbs of hell,  Only a dead wall between.  Well, good Antonio,  I 'll seek thee out; and all my care shall be  To put thee into safety from the reach  Of these most cruel biters that have got  Some of thy blood already.  It may be,  I 'll join with thee in a most just revenge.  The weakest arm is strong enough that strikes  With the sword of justice.  Still methinks the duchess  Haunts me:  there, there! – 'Tis nothing but my melancholy.  O Penitence, let me truly taste thy cup,  That throws men down only to raise them up!

Exit.

Scene III133

[Enter] ANTONIO and DELIO. Echo (from the DUCHESS'S Grave)

  DELIO.  Yond 's the cardinal's window.  This fortification  Grew from the ruins of an ancient abbey;  And to yond side o' th' river lies a wall,  Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion  Gives the best echo that you ever heard,  So hollow and so dismal, and withal  So plain in the distinction of our words,  That many have suppos'd it is a spirit  That answers.  ANTONIO.       I do love these ancient ruins.  We never tread upon them but we set  Our foot upon some reverend history;  And, questionless, here in this open court,  Which now lies naked to the injuries  Of stormy weather, some men lie interr'd  Lov'd the church so well, and gave so largely to 't,  They thought it should have canopied their bones  Till dooms-day.  But all things have their end;  Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men,  Must have like death that we have.  ECHO.                               Like death that we have.  DELIO.  Now the echo hath caught you.  ANTONIO.  It groan'd methought, and gave  A very deadly accent.  ECHO.                  Deadly accent.  DELIO.  I told you 'twas a pretty one.  You may make it  A huntsman, or a falconer, a musician,  Or a thing of sorrow.  ECHO.                  A thing of sorrow.  ANTONIO.  Ay, sure, that suits it best.  ECHO.                                    That suits it best.  ANTONIO.  'Tis very like my wife's voice.  ECHO.                                      Ay, wife's voice.  DELIO.  Come, let us walk further from t.  I would not have you go to the cardinal's to-night:  Do not.  ECHO.  Do not.  DELIO.  Wisdom doth not more moderate wasting sorrow  Than time.  Take time for 't; be mindful of thy safety.  ECHO.  Be mindful of thy safety.  ANTONIO.  Necessity compels me.  Make scrutiny through the passages  Of your own life, you 'll find it impossible  To fly your fate.  ECHO.              O, fly your fate!  DELIO.  Hark! the dead stones seem to have pity on you,  And give you good counsel.  ANTONIO.  Echo, I will not talk with thee,  For thou art a dead thing.  ECHO.                       Thou art a dead thing.  ANTONIO.  My duchess is asleep now,  And her little ones, I hope sweetly.  O heaven,  Shall I never see her more?  ECHO.                        Never see her more.  ANTONIO.  I mark'd not one repetition of the echo  But that; and on the sudden a clear light  Presented me a face folded in sorrow.  DELIO.  Your fancy merely.  ANTONIO.                    Come, I 'll be out of this ague,  For to live thus is not indeed to live;  It is a mockery and abuse of life.  I will not henceforth save myself by halves;  Lose all, or nothing.  DELIO.                 Your own virtue save you!  I 'll fetch your eldest son, and second you.  It may be that the sight of his own blood  Spread in so sweet a figure may beget  The more compassion.  However, fare you well.  Though in our miseries Fortune have a part,  Yet in our noble sufferings she hath none.  Contempt of pain, that we may call our own.

Exeunt.

Scene IV134

[Enter] CARDINAL, PESCARA, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN

  CARDINAL.  You shall not watch to-night by the sick prince;  His grace is very well recover'd.  MALATESTI.  Good my lord, suffer us.  CARDINAL.                             O, by no means;  The noise, and change of object in his eye,  Doth more distract him.  I pray, all to bed;  And though you hear him in his violent fit,  Do not rise, I entreat you.  PESCARA.  So, sir; we shall not.  CARDINAL.                         Nay, I must have you promise  Upon your honours, for I was enjoin'd to 't  By himself; and he seem'd to urge it sensibly.  PESCARA.  Let our honours bind this trifle.  CARDINAL.  Nor any of your followers.  MALATESTI.  Neither.  CARDINAL.  It may be, to make trial of your promise,  When he 's asleep, myself will rise and feign  Some of his mad tricks, and cry out for help,  And feign myself in danger.  MALATESTI.  If your throat were cutting,  I 'd not come at you, now I have protested against it.  CARDINAL.  Why, I thank you.  GRISOLAN.                     'Twas a foul storm to-night.  RODERIGO.  The Lord Ferdinand's chamber shook like an osier.  MALATESTI.  'Twas nothing put pure kindness in the devil  To rock his own child.

Exeunt [all except the CARDINAL].

  CARDINAL.  The reason why I would not suffer these  About my brother, is, because at midnight  I may with better privacy convey  Julia's body to her own lodging.  O, my conscience!  I would pray now; but the devil takes away my heart  For having any confidence in prayer.  About this hour I appointed Bosola  To fetch the body.  When he hath serv'd my turn,  He dies.

Exit.

[Enter BOSOLA]

  BOSOLA.  Ha! 'twas the cardinal's voice; I heard him name  Bosola and my death.  Listen; I hear one's footing.

[Enter FERDINAND]

  FERDINAND.  Strangling is a very quiet death.  BOSOLA.  [Aside.] Nay, then, I see I must stand upon my guard.FERDINAND. What say to that? Whisper softly: do you agree to 't?So; it must be done i' th' dark; the cardinal would not fora thousand pounds the doctor should see it.

Exit.

  BOSOLA.  My death is plotted; here 's the consequence of murder.  We value not desert nor Christian breath,  When we know black deeds must be cur'd with death.

[Enter ANTONIO and Servant]

  SERVANT.  Here stay, sir, and be confident, I pray;  I 'll fetch you a dark lantern.

Exit.

  ANTONIO.  Could I take him at his prayers,  There were hope of pardon.  BOSOLA.  Fall right, my sword! —[Stabs him.]  I 'll not give thee so much leisure as to pray.  ANTONIO.  O, I am gone!  Thou hast ended a long suit  In a minute.  BOSOLA.       What art thou?  ANTONIO.                      A most wretched thing,  That only have thy benefit in death,  To appear myself.

[Re-enter Servant with a lantern]

  SERVANT.  Where are you, sir?  ANTONIO.  Very near my home. – Bosola!  SERVANT.  O, misfortune!  BOSOLA.  Smother thy pity, thou art dead else. – Antonio!  The man I would have sav'd 'bove mine own life!  We are merely the stars' tennis-balls, struck and banded  Which way please them. – O good Antonio,  I 'll whisper one thing in thy dying ear  Shall make thy heart break quickly!  Thy fair duchess  And two sweet children —  ANTONIO.                    Their very names  Kindle a little life in me.  BOSOLA.                      Are murder'd.  ANTONIO.  Some men have wish'd to die  At the hearing of sad tidings; I am glad  That I shall do 't in sadness.135 I would not now  Wish my wounds balm'd nor heal'd, for I have no use  To put my life to.  In all our quest of greatness,  Like wanton boys whose pastime is their care,  We follow after bubbles blown in th' air.  Pleasure of life, what is 't?  Only the good hours  Of an ague; merely a preparative to rest,  To endure vexation.  I do not ask  The process of my death; only commend me  To Delio.  BOSOLA.     Break, heart!  ANTONIO.  And let my son fly the courts to princes.[Dies.]  BOSOLA.  Thou seem'st to have lov'd Antonio.  SERVANT.  I brought him hither,  To have reconcil'd him to the cardinal.  BOSOLA.  I do not ask thee that.  Take him up, if thou tender thine own life,  And bear him where the lady Julia  Was wont to lodge. – O, my fate moves swift!  I have this cardinal in the forge already;  Now I 'll bring him to th' hammer.  O direful misprision!136  I will not imitate things glorious.  No more than base; I 'll be mine own example. —  On, on, and look thou represent, for silence,  The thing thou bear'st.137       Exeunt.

Scene V138

[Enter] CARDINAL, with a book

  CARDINAL.  I am puzzl'd in a question about hell;  He says, in hell there 's one material fire,  And yet it shall not burn all men alike.  Lay him by.  How tedious is a guilty conscience!  When I look into the fish-ponds in my garden,  Methinks I see a thing arm'd with a rake,  That seems to strike at me.

[Enter BOSOLA, and Servant bearing ANTONIO'S body]

                               Now, art thou come?  Thou look'st ghastly;  There sits in thy face some great determination  Mix'd with some fear.  BOSOLA.                Thus it lightens into action:  I am come to kill thee.  CARDINAL.                Ha! – Help! our guard!  BOSOLA.  Thou art deceiv'd; they are out of thy howling.  CARDINAL.  Hold; and I will faithfully divide  Revenues with thee.  BOSOLA.              Thy prayers and proffers  Are both unseasonable.  CARDINAL.               Raise the watch!  We are betray'd!  BOSOLA.           I have confin'd your flight:  I 'll suffer your retreat to Julia's chamber,  But no further.  CARDINAL.        Help! we are betray'd!

[Enter, above, PESCARA, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN]

  MALATESTI.  Listen.  CARDINAL.  My dukedom for rescue!  RODERIGO.  Fie upon his counterfeiting!  MALATESTI.  Why, 'tis not the cardinal.  RODERIGO.  Yes, yes, 'tis he:  But, I 'll see him hang'd ere I 'll go down to him.  CARDINAL.  Here 's a plot upon me; I am assaulted!  I am lost,  Unless some rescue!  GRISOLAN.            He doth this pretty well;  But it will not serve to laugh me out of mine honour.  CARDINAL.  The sword's at my throat!  RODERIGO.                             You would not bawl so loud then.  MALATESTI.  Come, come, let 's go to bed:  he told us this much aforehand.  PESCARA.  He wish'd you should not come at him; but, believe 't,  The accent of the voice sounds not in jest:  I 'll down to him, howsoever, and with engines  Force ope the doors.

[Exit above.]

  RODERIGO.             Let 's follow him aloof,  And note how the cardinal will laugh at him.

[Exeunt, above, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN.]

  BOSOLA.  There 's for you first,  'Cause you shall not unbarricade the door  To let in rescue.       Kills the Servant.  CARDINAL.  What cause hast thou to pursue my life?  BOSOLA.                                             Look there.  CARDINAL.  Antonio!  BOSOLA.              Slain by my hand unwittingly.  Pray, and be sudden.  When thou kill'd'st thy sister,  Thou took'st from Justice her most equal balance,  And left her naught but her sword.  CARDINAL.                           O, mercy!  BOSOLA.  Now it seems thy greatness was only outward;  For thou fall'st faster of thyself than calamity  Can drive thee.  I 'll not waste longer time; there![Stabs him.]  CARDINAL.  Thou hast hurt me.  BOSOLA.                        Again!  CARDINAL.                              Shall I die like a leveret,  Without any resistance? – Help, help, help!  I am slain!

[Enter FERDINAND]

  FERDINAND.    Th' alarum!  Give me a fresh horse;  Rally the vaunt-guard, or the day is lost,  Yield, yield!  I give you the honour of arms  Shake my sword over you; will you yield?  CARDINAL.  Help me; I am your brother!FERDINAND. The devil!My brother fight upon the adverse party!He wounds the CARDINAL, and, in the scuffle, gives BOSOLAhis death-wound.There flies your ransom.  CARDINAL.  O justice!  I suffer now for what hath former bin:  Sorrow is held the eldest child of sin.FERDINAND. Now you 're brave fellows. Caesar's fortune was harderthan Pompey's; Caesar died in the arms of prosperity, Pompey at thefeet of disgrace. You both died in the field. The pain 's nothing;pain many times is taken away with the apprehension of greater,as the tooth-ache with the sight of a barber that comes to pullit out. There 's philosophy for you.  BOSOLA.  Now my revenge is perfect. – Sink, thou main cause       Kills FERDINAND.  Of my undoing! – The last part of my life  Hath done me best service.  FERDINAND.  Give me some wet hay; I am broken-winded.  I do account this world but a dog-kennel:  I will vault credit and affect high pleasures  Beyond death.  BOSOLA.        He seems to come to himself,  Now he 's so near the bottom.  FERDINAND.  My sister, O my sister! there 's the cause on 't.  Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust,  Like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust.[Dies.]  CARDINAL.  Thou hast thy payment too.  BOSOLA.  Yes, I hold my weary soul in my teeth;  'Tis ready to part from me.  I do glory  That thou, which stood'st like a huge pyramid  Begun upon a large and ample base,  Shalt end in a little point, a kind of nothing.

[Enter, below, PESCARA, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, and GRISOLAN]