Double Falsehood: Act 3, Scene 3

ROD.

Julio’s departure thus in secret from me,

With the long doubtful absence of my brother,

(Who cannot suffer, but my father feels it)

Have trusted me with strong suspicions,

And dreams, that will not let me sleep, nor eat,

Nor taste those recreations health demands:

But, like a whirlwind, hither have they snatch’d me,

Perforce, to be resolv’d. I know my brother

Had Julio’s father for his host: from him

Enquiry may befriend me.

Old sir, I’m glad

To ’ve met you thus. What ails the man? Camillo,—

CAM.CAMILLO

Ha?

ROD.

Is’t possible, you should forget your friends?

CAM.CAMILLO

Friends! What are those?

ROD.

Why, those that love you, sir.

CAM.CAMILLO

You’re none of those, sure, if you be lord Roderick.

ROD.

Yes, I am that lord Roderick, and I lie not,

If I protest, I love you passing well.

CAM.CAMILLO

You lov’d my son too passing well, I take it:

One, that believ’d too suddenly his court-creed.

ROD.

All is not well.

—Good old man, do not rail.

CAM.CAMILLO

My lord, my lord, you’ve dealt dishonorably.

ROD.

Good sir, I am so far from doing wrongs

Of that base strain, I understand you not.

CAM.CAMILLO

Indeed! You know not neither, o’ my conscience,

How your most virtuous brother, noble Henriquez,

(You look so like him, lord, you are the worse for’t;

Rots upon such dissemblers!) under color

Of buying coursers, and I know not what,

Bought my poor boy out of possession

Ev’n of his plighted faith. Was not this honor?

And this a constant friend?

ROD.

I dare not say so.

CAM.CAMILLO

Now you have robb’d him of his love, take all;

Make up your malice, and dispatch his life too.

ROD.

If you would hear me, sir,—

CAM.CAMILLO

Your brave old father

Would have been torn in pieces with wild horses,

E’er he had done this treachery. On my conscience,

Had he but dreamt you two durst have committed

This base, unmanly crime,—

ROD.

Why, this is madness.—

CAM.CAMILLO

I’ve done; I’ve eas’d my heart; now you may talk.

ROD.

Then as I am a gentleman, believe me,

(For I will lie for no man) I’m so far

From being guilty of the least suspicion

Of sin that way, that fearing the long absence

Of Julio and my brother might beget

Something to start at, hither have I travell’d

To know the truth of you.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

My servant loiters; sure, he means me well.

Camillo, and a stranger? These may give me

Some comfort from their talk. I’ll step aside:

And hear what fame is stirring.

ROD.

Why this wond’ring?

CAM.CAMILLO

Can there be one so near in blood as you are

To that Henriquez, and an honest man?

ROD.

While he was good, I do confess my nearness;

But, since his fall from honor, he’s to me

As a strange face I saw but yesterday,

And as soon lost.

CAM.CAMILLO

I ask your pardon, lord;

I was too rash and bold.

ROD.

No harm done, sir.

CAM.CAMILLO

But is it possible, you should not hear

The passage ’twixt Leonora and your brother?

ROD.

None of all this.

CAM.CAMILLO

How now?

CITIZ.CITIZEN

I bear you tidings, sir, which I could wish

Some other tongue deliver’d.

CAM.CAMILLO

Whence, I pray you?

CITIZ.CITIZEN

From your son, sir.

CAM.CAMILLO

Prithee, where is he?

CITIZ.CITIZEN

That’s more than I know now, sir.

But this I can assure you, he has left

The city raging mad; heav’n comfort him!

He came to that curst marriage—the fiends take it!

CAM.CAMILLO

Prithee, be gone, and bid the bell knoll for me:

I have had one foot in the grave some time.

Nay, go, good friend; thy news deserve no thanks.

How does your lordship?

ROD.

That’s well said, old man.

I hope, all shall be well yet.

CAM.CAMILLO

It had need;

For ’tis a crooked world. Farewell, poor boy!

D. BERN.DON BERNARD

This comes of forcing women where they hate:

It was my own sin; and I am rewarded.

Now I am like an aged oak, alone,

Left for all tempests. I would cry, but cannot:

I’m dried to death almost with these vexations.

Lord! What a heavy load I have within me!

My heart,—my heart,—my heart—

CAM.CAMILLO

Has this ill weather

Met with thee too?

D. BERN.DON BERNARD

O wench, that I were with thee!

CAM.CAMILLO

You do not come to mock at me now?

D. BERN.DON BERNARD

Ha?

CAM.CAMILLO

Do not dissemble; thou may’st find a knave

As bad as thou art, to undo thee too:

I hope to see that day before I die yet.

D. BERN.DON BERNARD

It needeth not, Camillo; I am knave

Sufficient to myself. If thou wilt rail,

Do it as bitterly as thou canst think of;

For I deserve it. Draw thy sword, and strike me;

And I will thank thee for’t. I’ve lost my daughter;

She’s stol’n away; and whither gone, I know not.

CAM.CAMILLO

She has a fair blessing in being from you, sir.

I was too poor a brother for your greatness;

You must be grafted into noble stocks,

And have your titles rais’d. My state was laugh’d at:

And my alliance scorn’d. I’ve lost a son too;

Which must not be put up so.

ROD.

Hold; be counsel’d.

You’ve equal losses; urge no farther anger.

Heav’n, pleas’d now at your love, may bring again,

And, no doubt, will, your children to your comforts:

In which adventure my foot shall be foremost.

And one more will I add, my honor’d father;

Who has a son to grieve for too, though tainted.

Let your joint sorrow be as balm to heal

These wounds of adverse fortune.

D. BERN.DON BERNARD

Come, Camillo,

Do not deny your love, for charity;

I ask it of you. Let this noble lord

Make brothers of us, whom our own cross fates

Could never join. What I have been, forget;

What I intend to be, believe and nourish:

I do confess my wrongs; give me your hand.

CAM.CAMILLO

Heav’n make thee honest—there.

ROD.

’Tis done like good men.

Now there rests nought, but that we part, and each

Take sev’ral ways in quest of our lost friends:

Some of my train o’er the wild rocks shall wait you.

Our best search ended, here we’ll meet again,

And tell the fortunes of our separate travels.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

I would, your brother had but half your virtue!

Yet there remains a little spark of hope

That lights me to some comfort. The match is cross’d;

The parties separate; and I again

May come to see this man that has betray’d me;

And wound his conscience for it: home again

I will not go, whatever fortune guides me;

Though ev’ry step I went, I trod upon

Dangers as fearful and as pale as death.

No, no, Henriquez; I will follow thee

Where there is day. Time may beget a wonder.

O, are you come? What news?

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

None, but the worst. Your father makes mighty offers yonder by a cryer, to any one can bring you home again.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

Art thou corrupted?

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

No.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

Wilt thou be honest?

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

I hope, you do not fear me.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

Indeed, I do not. Thou hast an honest face;

And such a face, when it deceives, take heed,

Is curst of all heav’n’s creatures.

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

I’ll hang first.

VIOL.VIOLANTE

Heav’n bless thee from that end! I’ve heard a man

Say more than this; and yet that man was false.

Thou’lt not be so, I hope.

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

By my life, mistress,—

VIOL.VIOLANTE

Swear not; I credit thee. But prithee though,

Take heed, thou dost not fail: I do not doubt thee:

Yet I have trusted such a serious face,

And been abused too.

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

If I fail your trust,—

VIOL.VIOLANTE

I do thee wrong to hold thy honesty

At distance thus: thou shalt know all my fortunes.

Get me a shepherd’s habit.

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

Well; what else?

VIOL.VIOLANTE

And wait me in the evening, where I told thee;

There thou shalt know my farther ends. Take heed—

SERV.SERVANT TO VIOLANTE

D’ye fear me still?

VIOL.VIOLANTE

No; this is only counsel:

My life and death I have put equally

Into thy hand: let not rewards, nor hopes,

Be cast into the scale to turn thy faith.

Be honest but for virtue’s sake, that’s all;

He, that has such a treasure, cannot fall.