Who in vile tenements live so full of holes,
That the chill rain, the snow, and the rude blast,
Are tenants also with them; others sleep
Under the arches of the public bridges
All through the autumn nights, till the wet mist
Stiffens their limbs, and fevers come, and so -
DUKE
And so they go to Abraham’s bosom, Madam.
They should thank me for sending them to Heaven,
If they are wretched here.
[To the CARDINAL.]
Is it not said
Somewhere in Holy Writ, that every man
Should be contented with that state of life
God calls him to? Why should I change their state,
Or meddle with an all-wise providence,
Which has apportioned that some men should starve,
And others surfeit? I did not make the world.
FIRST CITIZEN He hath a hard heart.
SECOND CITIZEN
Nay, be silent, neighbour;
I think the Cardinal will speak for us.
CARDINAL
True, it is Christian to bear misery,
Yet it is Christian also to be kind,
And there seem many evils in this town,
Which in your wisdom might your Grace reform.
FIRST CITIZEN What is that word reform? What does it mean?
SECOND CITIZEN Marry, it means leaving things as they are; I like it not.
DUKE
Reform Lord Cardinal, did you say reform?
There is a man in Germany called Luther,
Who would reform the Holy Catholic Church.
Have you not made him heretic, and uttered
Anathema, maranatha, against him?
CARDINAL [rising from his seat]
He would have led the sheep out of the fold,
We do but ask of you to feed the sheep.
DUKE
When I have shorn their fleeces I may feed them.
As for these rebels -
[DUCHESS entreats him.]
FIRST CITIZEN
That is a kind word,
He means to give us something.
SECOND CITIZEN Is that so?
DUKE
These ragged knaves who come before us here,
With mouths chock-full of treason.
THIRD CITIZEN
Good my Lord,
Fill up our mouths with bread; we’ll hold our tongues.
DUKE
Ye shall hold your tongues, whether you starve or not.
My lords, this age is so familiar grown,
That the low peasant hardly doffs his hat,
Unless you beat him; and the raw mechanic
Elbows the noble in the public streets.
[To the Citizens.]
Still as our gentle Duchess has so prayed us,
And to refuse so beautiful a beggar
Were to lack both courtesy and love,
Touching your grievances, I promise this -
FIRST CITIZEN Marry, he will lighten the taxes!
SECOND CITIZEN Or a dole of bread, think you, for each man?
DUKE
That, on next Sunday, the Lord Cardinal
Shall, after Holy Mass, preach you a sermon
Upon the Beauty of Obedience.
[Citizens murmur.]
FIRST CITIZEN I’ faith, that will not fill our stomachs!
SECOND CITIZEN
A sermon is but a sorry sauce, when
You have nothing to eat with it.
DUCHESS
Poor people,
You see I have no power with the Duke,
But if you go into the court without,
My almoner shall from my private purse,
Divide a hundred ducats ‘mongst you all.
FIRST CITIZEN God save the Duchess, say I.
SECOND CITIZEN God save her.
DUCHESS
And every Monday morn shall bread be set
For those who lack it.
[Citizens applaud and go out.]
FIRST CITIZEN [going out]
Why, God save the Duchess again!
DUKE [calling him back]
Come hither, fellow! what is your name?
FIRST CITIZEN Dominick, sir.
DUKE A good name! Why were you called Dominick?
FIRST CITIZEN [scratching his head]
Marry, because I was born on St. George’s day.
DUKE
A good reason! here is a ducat for you!
Will you not cry for me God save the Duke?
FIRST CITIZEN [feebly]
God save the Duke.
DUKE Nay! louder, fellow, louder.
FIRST CITIZEN [a little louder]
God save the Duke!
DUKE
More lustily, fellow, put more heart in it!
Here is another ducat for you.
FIRST CITIZEN [enthusiastically]
God save the Duke!
DUKE [mockingly]
Why, gentlemen, this simple fellow’s love
Touches me much. [To the Citizen, harshly.]
Go! [Exit Citizen, bowing.]
This is the way, my lords,
You can buy popularity nowadays.
Oh, we are nothing if not democratic!
[To the DUCHESS.]
Well, Madam,
You spread rebellion ‘midst our citizens.
DUCHESS
My Lord, the poor have rights you cannot touch,
The right to pity, and the right to mercy.
DUKE
So, so, you argue with me? This is she,
The gentle Duchess for whose hand I yielded
Three of the fairest towns in Italy,
Pisa, and Genoa, and Orvieto.
DUCHESS
Promised, my Lord, not yielded: in that matter
Brake you your word