Ferdinand Monologue from The Duchess of Malfi

From The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster

male · dark · 1:01 min

Lower! Rogues do not whisper 't now, but seek to publish 't (As servants do the bounty of their lords) Aloud; and with a covetous searching eye, To mark who note them. O, confusion seize her! She hath had most cunning bawds to serve her turn, And more secure conveyances for lust Than towns of garrison for service. (CARDINAL: Is 't possible? Can this be certain?) Rhubarb, O, for rhubarb To purge this choler! Here 's the cursed day To prompt my memory; and here 't shall stick Till of her bleeding heart I make a sponge To wipe it out. (CARDINAL: Why do you make yourself So wild a tempest?) Would I could be one, That I might toss her palace 'bout her ears, Root up her goodly forests, blast her meads, And lay her general territory as waste As she hath done her honours.

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