Act II, Scene V — [1629]
[Enter] CORVINO, [with his sword in his hand, dragging in] CELIA.
Corv. Death of mine honour, with the city’s fool! A juggling, tooth-drawing, prating mountebank! And at a public windore! where, whilst he, With his strain’d action, and his dole of faces,[1630] To his drug-lecture draws your itching ears, 5 A crew of old, unmarri’d, noted lechers, Stood leering up like satyrs: and you smile Most graciously, and fan your favours forth, To give your hot spectators satisfaction! What, was your mountbank their call? their whistle? 10 Or were you enamour’d on his copper rings, His saffron jewel, with the toad-stone in ’t, Or his embroid’red suit, with the cope-stitch, Made of a hearse cloth? or his old tilt-feather? Or his starch’d beard! Well, you shall have him, yes! 15 He shall come home, and minister unto you The fricace for the mother.[1631] Or, let me see, I think you ’d rather mount; would you not mount? Why, if you ’ll mount, you may; yes, truly, you may! And so you may be seen, down to the foot. 20 Get you a cittern, Lady Vanity, And be a dealer with the virtuous man; Make one. I ’ll but protest myself a cuckold, And save your dowry. I ’m a Dutchman, I! For if you thought me an Italian, 25 You would be damn’d ere you did this, you whore! Thou ’dst tremble to imagine that the murder Of father, mother, brother, all thy race, Should follow, as the subject of my justice.
Cel. Good sir, have patience.
Corv. What couldst thou propose[1632] 30 Less to thyself, than in this heat of wrath, And stung with my dishonour, I should strike This steel into thee, with as many stabs As thou wert gaz’d upon with goatish eyes?
Cel. Alas, sir, be appeas’d! I could not think My being at the windore should more now 36 Move your impatience than at other times.
Corv. No! not to seek and entertain a parley With a known knave, before a multitude! You were an actor with your handkerchief, 40 Which he most sweetly kist in the receipt, And might, no doubt, return it with a letter, And point the place where you might meet; your sister’s, Your mother’s, or your aunt’s might serve the turn.
Cel. Why, dear sir, when do I make these excuses, 45 Or ever stir abroad, but to the church? And that so seldom——
Corv. Well, it shall be less; And thy restraint before was liberty, To what I now decree: and therefore mark me. First, I will have this bawdy light damm’d up: 50 And till ’t be done, some two or three yards off, I’ll chalk a line; o’er which if thou but chance To set thy desp’rate foot, more hell, more horror, More wild remorseless rage shall seize on thee, Than on a conjuror that had heedless left 55 His circle’s safety ere his devil was laid. Then here’s a lock which I will hang upon thee, And, now I think on ’t, I will keep thee backwards; Thy lodging shall be backwards: thy walks backwards; Thy prospect, all be backwards; and no pleasure, 60 That thou shalt know but backwards: nay, since you force My honest nature, know, it is your own, Being too open, makes me use you thus: Since you will not contain your subtle nostrils In a sweet room, but they must snuff the air 65 Of rank and sweaty passengers. (Knock within.) One knocks. Away, and be not seen, pain of thy life; Nor look toward the windore; if thou dost—— Nay, stay, hear this——let me not prosper, whore, But I will make thee an anatomy, 70 Dissect thee mine own self, and read a lecture Upon thee to the city, and in public. Away!— [Exit CELIA.] [Enter SERVANT.] Who ’s there?
Ser. ’T is Signior Mosca, sir.
Act II, Scene VI — [1633]
CORVINO. Enter MOSCA.
Corv. Let him come in. His master’s dead; there ’s yet Some good to help the bad.——My Mosca, welcome! I guess your news.
Mos. I fear you cannot, sir.
Corv. Is ’t not his death?
Mos. Rather the contrary.
Corv. Not his recovery?
Mos. Yes, sir.
Corv. I am curs’d, 5 I am bewitch’d, my crosses meet to vex me. How? how? how? how?
Mos. Why, sir, with Scoto’s oil; Corbaccio and Voltore brought of it, Whilst I was busy in an inner room——
Corv. Death! that damn’d mountebank! but for the law 10 Now, I could kill the rascal: it cannot be His oil should have that virtue. Ha’ not I Known him a common rogue, come fiddling in To the osteria,[1634] with a tumbling whore, And, when he has done all his forc’d tricks, been glad 15 Of a poor spoonful of dead wine, with flies in ’t? It cannot be. All his ingredients Are a sheep’s gall, a roasted bitch’s marrow, Some few sod[1635] earwigs, pounded caterpillars, A little capon’s grease, and fasting spittle: 20 I know them to a dram.
Mos. I know not, sir; But some on ’t, there, they pour’d into his ears, Some in his nostrils, and recover’d him; Applying but the fricace.
Corv. Pox o’ that fricace!
Mos. And since, to seem the more officious 25 And flatt’ring of his health, there, they have had, At extreme fees, the college of physicians Consulting on him, how they might restore him; Where one would have a cataplasm[1636] of spices, Another a flay’d ape clapp’d to his breast, 30 A third would have it a dog, a fourth an oil, With wild cats’ skins: at last, they all resolv’d That to preserve him, was no other means But some young woman must be straight sought out, Lusty, and full of juice, to sleep by him; 35 And to this service most unhappily, And most unwillingly, am I now employ’d, Which here I thought to pre-acquaint you with, For your advice, since it concerns you most; Because I would not do that thing might cross Your ends, on whom I have my whole dependence, sir; 41 Yet, if I do it not they may delate[1637] My slackness to my patron, work me out Of his opinion; and there all your hopes, Ventures, or whatsoever, are all frustrate! 45 I do but tell you, sir. Besides, they are all Now striving who shall first present him; therefore—— I could entreat you, briefly conclude somewhat; Prevent ’em if you can.
Corv. Death to my hopes. This is my villanous fortune! Best to hire 50 Some common courtesan.
Mos. Ay, I thought on that, sir; But they are all so subtle, full of art— And age again doting and flexible, So as—I cannot tell—we may, perchance, Light on a quean may cheat us all.
Corv. ’T is true. 55
Mos. No, no: it must be one that has no tricks, sir, Some simple thing, a creature made[1638] unto it; Some wench you may command. Ha’ you no kinswoman? Gods so—Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, sir. One o’ the doctors offer’d there his daughter.
Corv. How!
Mos. Yes, Signior Lupo, the physician. 61
Corv. His daughter!
Mos. And a virgin, sir. Why, alas, He knows the state of ’s body, what it is: That nought can warm his blood, sir, but a fever; Nor any incantation raise his spirit: 65 A long forgetfulness hath seiz’d that part. Besides, sir, who shall know it’! Some one or two—
Corv. I pray thee give me leave. [Walks aside.] If any man But I had had this luck—The thing in ’t self, I know, is nothing.—Wherefore should not I 70 As well command my blood and my affections As this dull doctor? In the point of honour, The cases are all one of wife and daughter.
Mos. [Aside.] I hear him coming.[1639]
Corv. She shall do ’t: ’t is done. Slight! if this doctor, who is not engag’d, 75 Unless ’t be for his counsel, which is nothing, Offer his daughter, what should I, that am So deeply in? I will prevent him: Wretch! Covetous wretch!—Mosca, I have determin’d.
Mos. How, sir? 80
Corv. We’ll make all sure. The party you wot of Shall be mine own wife, Mosca.
Mos. Sir, the thing, But that I would not seem to counsel you, I should have motion’d[1640] to you, at the first: And make your count,[1641] you have cut all their throats.[1642] Why, ’t is directly taking a possession! 85 And in his next fit, we may let him go. ’T is but to pull the pillow from his head, And he is throttled: it had been done before But for your scrupulous doubts.
Corv. Ay, a plague on ’t. My conscience fools my wit! Well, I’ll be brief, 90 And so be thou, lest they should be before us. Go home, prepare him, tell him with what zeal And willingness I do it: swear it was On the first hearing, as thou mayst do, truly, Mine own free motion.
Mos. Sir, I warrant you, 95 I’ll so possess him with it, that the rest Of his starv’d clients shall be banish’d all; And only you receiv’d. But come not, sir, Until I send, for I have something else To ripen for your good, you must not know ’t.
Corv. But do not you forget to send now.
Mos. Fear not. [Exit.] 101
[SCENE VII.][1643]
CORVINO.
Corv. Where are you, wife? My Celia! wife! [Enter CELIA.] —What, blubb’ring? Come, dry those tears. I think thou thought’st me in earnest; Ha! by this light I talk’d so but to try thee: Methinks, the lightness of the occasion Should have confirm’d thee. Come, I am not jealous. 5
Cel. No?
Corv. Faith I am not, I, nor never was; It is a poor unprofitable humour. Do not I know, if women have a will, They’ll do ’gainst all the watches o’ the world, And that the fiercest spies are tam’d with gold? Tut, I am confident in thee, thou shalt see’t; 11 And see I ’ll give thee cause too, to believe it. Come kiss me. Go, and make thee ready straight, In all thy best attire, thy choicest jewels, Put ’em all on, and, with ’em, thy best looks: 15 We are invited to a solemn feast, At old Volpone’s, where it shall appear How far I am free from jealousy or fear. [Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene I — [1644]
[Enter] MOSCA.
Mos. I fear I shall begin to grow in love With my dear self, and my most prosp’rous parts, They do so spring and burgeon; I can feel A whimsy i’ my blood: I know not how, Success hath made me wanton. I could skip 5 Out of my skin now, like a subtle snake, I am so limber. O! your parasite Is a most precious thing, dropt from above, Not bred ’mongst clods and clodpoles, here on earth. I muse, the mystery[1645] was not made a science, 10 It is so liberally profest! Almost All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites or sub-parasites. And yet I mean not those that have your bare town-art, To know who’s fit to feed them; have no house, 15 No family, no care, and therefore mould Tales for men’s ears, to bait that sense; or get Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts To please the belly, and the groin; nor those, With their court dog-tricks, that can fawn and fleer, 20 Make their revenue out of leg[1646] and faces, Echo my lord, and lick away a moth: But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise And stoop, almost together, like an arrow; Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star; 25 Turn short as doth a swallow; and be here, And there, and here, and yonder, all at once; Present to any humour, all occasion; And change a visor swifter than a thought! 29 This is the creature had the art born with him; Toils not to learn it, but doth practise it Out of most excellent nature: and such sparks Are the true parasites, others but their zanies.
Act III, Scene II — [1647]
MOSCA. [Enter] BONARIO.
Who’s this? Bonario, old Corbaccio’s son? The person I was bound to seek. Fair sir, You are happ’ly met.
Bon. That cannot be by thee.
Mos. Why, sir?
Bon. Nay, pray thee know thy way, and leave me: I would be loth to interchange discourse 5 With such a mate[1648] as thou art.
Mos. Courteous sir, Scorn not my poverty.
Bon. Not I, by heaven; But thou shalt give me leave to hate thy baseness.
Mos. Baseness!
Bon. Ay; answer me, is not thy sloth Sufficient argument? thy flattery? 10 Thy means of feeding?
Mos. Heaven be good to me! These imputations are too common, sir, And easily stuck on virtue when she’s poor. You are unequal[1649] to me, and however Your sentence may be righteous, yet you are not, 15 That, ere you know me, thus proceed in censure: St. Mark bear witness ’gainst you, ’t is inhuman. [Weeps.]
Bon. [Aside.] What! does he weep? the sign is soft and good: I do repent me that I was so harsh.
Mos. ’T is true, that, sway’d by strong necessity, 20 I am enforc’d to eat my careful bread With too much obsequy; ’t is true, beside, That I am fain to spin mine own poor raiment Out of my mere observance, being not born To a free fortune: but that I have done 25 Base offices, in rending friends asunder, Dividing families, betraying counsels, Whisp’ring false lies, or mining men with praises, Train’d their credulity with perjuries, Corrupted chastity, or am in love 30 With mine own tender ease, but would not rather Prove the most rugged and laborious course, That might redeem my present estimation, Let me here perish, in all hope of goodness.
Bon. [Aside.] This cannot be a personated passion.— 35 I was to blame, so to mistake thy nature; Prithee forgive me: and speak out thy business.
Mos. Sir, it concerns you; and though I may seem At first to make a main offence in manners, And in my gratitude unto my master, 40 Yet for the pure love which I bear all right, And hatred of the wrong, I must reveal it. This very hour your father is in purpose To disinherit you——
Bon. How!
Mos. And thrust you forth, As a mere stranger to his blood: ’t is true, sir. The work no way engageth me, but as 45 I claim an interest in the general state Of goodness and true virtue, which I hear T’ abound in you; and for which mere respect, Without a second aim, sir, I have done it. 50
Bon. This tale hath lost thee much of the late trust Thou hadst with me; it is impossible. I know not how to lend it any thought, My father should be so unnatural.
Mos. It is a confidence that well becomes 55 Your piety; and form’d, no doubt, it is From your own simple innocence, which makes Your wrong more monstrous and abhorr’d. But, sir, I now will tell you more. This very minute, It is, or will be doing; and if you 60 Shall be but pleas’d to go with me, I ’ll bring you, I dare not say where you shall see, but where Your ear shall be a witness of the deed; Hear yourself written bastard, and profest The common issue of the earth.
Bon. I’m maz’d! 65
Mos. Sir, if I do it not, draw your just sword, And score your vengeance on my front and face; Mark me your villain: you have too much wrong, And I do suffer for you, sir. My heart 69 Weeps blood in anguish——
Bon. Lead; I follow thee. [Exeunt.]
Act III, Scene III — [1650]
[Enter] VOLPONE, NANO, ANDROGYNO, CASTRONE.
Volp. Mosca stays long, methinks.—Bring forth your sports, And help to make the wretched time more sweet.
Nan. “Dwarf, fool, and eunuch, well met here we be. A question it were now, whether of us three, Being all the known delicates of a rich man, 5 In pleasing him, claim the precedency can?”
Cas. “I claim for myself.”
And. “And so doth the fool.”
Nan. “’T is foolish indeed: let me set you both to school. First for your dwarf, he’s little and witty, And everything, as it is little, is pretty; 10 Else why do men say to a creature of my shape, So soon as they see him, ’It’s a pretty little ape’? And why a pretty ape, but for pleasing imitation Of greater men’s actions, in a ridiculous fashion? 14 Beside, this feat[1651] body of mine doth not crave Half the meat, drink, and cloth, one of your bulks will have. Admit your fool’s face be the mother of laughter, Yet, for his brain, it must always come after: And though that do feed him, it ’s a pitiful case, His body is beholding to such a bad face.” 20 One knocks.
Volp. Who’s there? My couch; away! look! Nano, see: [Exeunt AND. and CAS.] Give me my caps first—go, inquire. [Exit NANO.] Now, Cupid Send it be Mosca, and with fair return!
Nan. [within.] It is the beauteous madam—
Volp. Would-be—is it?
Nan. The same.
Volp. Now torment on me! Squire her in; 25 For she will enter, or dwell here for ever: Nay, quickly. [Retires to his couch.] That my fit were past! I fear A second hell too, that my loathing this Will quite expel my appetite to the other: Would she were taking now her tedious leave. Lord, how it threats me what I am to suffer! 31
Act III, Scene IV — [1652]
[To him enter] NANO, LADY POLITIC WOULD-BE.
Lady P. I thank you, good sir. Pray you signify Unto your patron I am here.—This band Shows not my neck enough.—I trouble you, sir; Let me request you bid one of my women Come hither to me. In good faith, I am drest 5 Most favourably to-day! It is no matter: ’T is well enough. [Enter 1 Waiting-woman.] Look, see these petulant things, How they have done this!
Volp. [Aside.] I do feel the fever Ent’ring in at mine ears; O, for a charm, To fright it hence!
Lady P. Come nearer: is this curl 10 In his right place, or this? Why is this higher Than all the rest? You ha’ not wash’d your eyes yet! Or do they not stand even i’ your head? Where is your fellow? call her. [Exit 1 Woman.]
Nan. Now, St. Mark Deliver us! anon she ’ll beat her women, 15 Because her nose is red.
[Re-enter 1 with 2 Woman.]
Lady P. I pray you view This tire,[1653] forsooth: are all things apt, or no?
1 Wom. One hair a little here sticks out, forsooth.
Lady P. Does ’t so, forsooth! and where was your dear sight, When it did so, forsooth! What now! bird-ey’d?[1654] 20 And you, too? Pray you, both approach and mend it. Now, by that light I muse you ’re not asham’d! I, that have preach’d these things so oft unto you, Read you the principles, argu’d all the grounds, Disputed every fitness, every grace, 25 Call’d you to counsel of so frequent dressings—
Nan. (Aside.) More carefully than of your fame or honour.
Lady P. Made you acquainted what an ample dowry The knowledge of these things would be unto you, Able alone to get you noble husbands 30 At your return: and you thus to neglect it! Besides, you seeing what a curious nation Th’ Italians are, what will they say of me? “The English lady cannot dress herself.” Here ’s a fine imputation to our country! 35 Well, go your ways, and stay i’ the next room. This fucus[1655] was too coarse too; it ’s no matter.— Good sir, you ’ll give ’em entertainment? [Exeunt NANO and Waiting-women.]
Volp. The storm comes toward me.
Lady P. [Goes to the couch.] How does my Volpone?
Volp. Troubl’d with noise, I cannot sleep; I dreamt 40 That a strange fury ent’red now my house, And, with the dreadful tempest of her breath, Did cleave my roof asunder.
Lady P. Believe me, and I Had the most fearful dream, could I remember ’t:——
Volp. [Aside.] Out on my fate! I have given her the occasion 45 How to torment me: she will tell me hers.
Lady P. Methought the golden mediocrity, Polite, and delicate——
Volp. O, if you do love me, No more: I sweat, and suffer, at the mention Of any dream; feel how I tremble yet. 50
Lady P. Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart. Seed-pearl were good now, boil’d with syrup of apples, Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills, Your elecampane[1656] root, myrobalanes[1657]——
Volp. Ay me, I have ta’en a grasshopper by the wing![1658] 55
Lady P. Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadel Good i’ the house——
Volp. You will not drink, and part?
Lady P. No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not get Some English saffron, half a dram would serve; 59 Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints; Bugloss, and barley-meal——
Volp. [Aside.] She ’s in again! Before I feign’d diseases, now I have one.
Lady P. And these appli’d with a right scarlet cloth.
Volp. [Aside.] Another flood of words! a very torrent!
Lady P. Shall I, sir, make you a poultice?
Volp. No, no, no. 65 I ’m very well, you need prescribe no more.
Lady P. I have a little studied physic; but now I ’m all for music, save, i’ the forenoons, An hour or two for painting. I would have A lady, indeed, to have all letters and arts, 70 Be able to discourse, to write, to paint, But principal, as Plato holds, your music, And so does wise Pythagoras, I take it, Is your true rapture: when there is concent[1659] In face, in voice, and clothes: and is, indeed, 75 Out sex’s chiefest ornament.
Volp. The poet As old in time as Plato, and as knowing, Says that your highest female grace is silence.
Lady P. Which of your poets? Petrarch, or Tasso, or Dante? Guarini? Ariosto? Aretine? 80 Cieco di Hadria? I have read them all.
Volp. [Aside.] Is everything a cause to my destruction?
Lady P. I think I have two or three of ’em about me.
Volp. [Aside.] The sun, the sea, will sooner both stand still 84 Than her eternal tongue! nothing can scape it.
Lady P. Here ’s Pastor Fido——
Volp. [Aside. ] Profess obstinate silence; That ’s now my safest.
Lady P. All our English writers, I mean such as are happy in th’ Italian, Will deign to steal out of this author, mainly; Almost as much as from Montagnié: 90 He has so modern and facile a vein, Fitting the time, and catching the court-ear! Your Petrarch is more passionate, yet he, In days of sonnetting, trusted ’em with much: Dante is hard, and few can understand him. 95 But for a desperate wit, there ’s Aretine; Only his pictures are a little obscene—— You mark me not.
Volp. Alas, my mind ’s perturb’d.
Lady P. Why, in such cases, we must cure ourselves, Make use of our philosophy——
Volp. Oh me! 100
Lady P. And as we find our passions do rebel, Encounter them with reason, or divert ’em, By giving scope unto some other humour Of lesser danger: as, in politic bodies, There ’s nothing more doth overwhelm the judgment, 105 And cloud the understanding, than too much Settling and fixing, and, as ’t were, subsiding Upon one object. For the incorporating Or these same outward things, into that part Which we call mental, leaves some certain faeces 110 That stop the organs, and, as Plato says, Assassinate our knowledge.
Volp. [Aside.] Now, the spirit Of patience help me!
Lady P. Come, in faith, I must Visit you more a days; and make you well: Laugh and be lusty.
Volp. [Aside.] My good angel save me! 115
Lady P. There was but one sole man in all the world With whom I e’er could sympathise; and he Would lie you, often, three, four hours together To hear me speak; and be sometime so rapt, As he would answer me quite from the purpose, 120 Like you, and you are like him, just. I ’ll discourse, An ’t be but only, sir, to bring you asleep, How we did spend our time and loves together, For some six years.
Volp. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
Lady P. For we were coaetanei,[1660] and brought up—— 125
Volp. Some power, some fate, some fortune rescue me!
Act III, Scene V — [1661]
[To them enter] MOSCA.
Mos. God save you, madam!
Lady P. Good sir.
Volp. Mosca! welcome, Welcome to my redemption.
Mos. Why, sir?
Volp. Oh, Rid me of this my torture, quickly, there; My madam with the everlasting voice: The bells, in time of pestilence, ne’er made 5 Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion! The Cock-pit comes not near it. All my house, But now, steam’d like a bath with her thick breath, A lawyer could not have been heard; nor scarce Another woman, such a hail of words 10 She has let fall. For hell’s sake, rid her hence.
Mos. Has she presented?
Volp. Oh, I do not care; I ’ll take her absence upon any price, With any loss.
Mos. Madam——
Lady P. I ha’ brought your patron A toy, a cap here, of mine own work.
Mos. ’T is well. 15 I had forgot to tell you I saw your knight Where you would little think it.——
Lady P. Where?
Mos. Marry, Where yet, if you make haste, you may apprehend him, Rowing upon the water in a gondole, With the most cunning courtesan of Venice. 20
Lady P. Is ’t true?
Mos. Pursue ’em, and believe your eyes: Leave me to make your gift. [Exit LADY P. hastily.] I knew ’t would take: For, lightly, they that use themselves most licence, Are still most jealous.
Volp. Mosca, hearty thanks For thy quick fiction, and delivery of me. 25 Now to my hopes, what sayst thou?
[Re-enter LADY P. WOULD-BE.]
Lady P. But do you hear, sir?——
Volp. Again! I fear a paroxysm.
Lady P. Which way Row’d they together?
Mos. Toward the Rialto.
Lady P. I pray you lend me your dwarf. 29
Mos. I pray you take him. [Exit LADY P.] Your hopes, sir, are like happy blossoms, fair, And promise timely fruit, if you will stay But the maturing; keep you at your couch, Corbaccio will arrive straight, with the will; When he is gone, I’ll tell you more. [Exit.]
Volp. My blood, 35 My spirits are return’d; I am alive: And, like your wanton gamester at primero, Whose thought had whisper’d to him, not go[1662] less, Methinks I lie, and draw[1663]——for an encounter.[1663]
Act III, Scene VI — [1664]
[Enter] MOSCA, BONARIO.
Mos. Sir, here conceal’d [Opening a door] you may hear all. But, pray you, Have patience, sir; [One knocks.] the same’s your father knocks: I am compell’d to leave you. [Exit.]
Bon. Do so.—Yet Cannot my thought imagine this a truth. [Goes in.]
Act III, Scene VII — [1665]
[Enter] MOSCA, CORVINO, CELIA.—
Mos. Death on me! you are come too soon, what meant you? Did not I say I would send?
Corv. Yes, but I fear’d You might forget it, and then they prevent us.
Mos. Prevent! [Aside.] Did e’er man haste so for his horns? A courtier would not ply it so for a place. 5 —Well, now there is no helping it, stay here; I’ll presently return. [Exit.]
Corv. Where are you, Celia? You know not wherefore I have brought you hither?
Cel. Not well, except you told me.
Corv. Now I will: Hark hither. [They retire to one side.]
[Re-enter MOSCA.]
Mos. (to BONARIO) Sir, your father hath sent word, It will be half an hour ere he come; 11 And therefore, if you please to walk the while Into that gallery—at the upper end, There are some books to entertain the time: And I’ll take care no man shall come unto you, sir. 15
Bon. Yes, I will stay there.—[Aside.] I do doubt this fellow. [Exit.]
Mos. [Looking after him.] There; he is far enough; he can hear nothing: And for his father, I can keep him off.[1666]
Corv. Nay, now, there is no starting back, and therefore, Resolve upon it: I have so decreed. 20 It must be done. Nor would I move’t afore, Because I would avoid all shifts and tricks, That might deny me.
Cel. Sir, let me beseech you, Affect not these strange trials; if you doubt My chastity, why, lock me up for ever; 25 Make me the heir of darkness. Let me live Where I may please your fears, if not your trust.
Corv. Believe it, I have no such humour, I. All that I speak I mean; yet I’m not mad; 29 Not horn-mad, you see? Go to, show yourself Obedient, and a wife.
Cel. O heaven!
Corv. I say it, Do so.
Cel. Was this the train?
Corv. I ’ve told you reasons; What the physicians have set down; how much It may concern me; what my engagements are; My means, and the necessity of those means 35 For my recovery: wherefore, if you be Loyal and mine, be won, respect my venture.
Cel. Before your honour?
Corv. Honour! tut, a breath: There’s no such thing in nature; a mere term Invented to awe fools. What is my gold 40 The worse for touching, clothes for being look’d on? Why, this’s no more. An old decrepit wretch, That has no sense, no sinew; takes his meat With others’ fingers: only knows to gape When you do scald his gums; a voice, a shadow; And what can this man hurt you?
Cel. [Aside.] Lord! what spirit 46 Is this hath ent’red him?
Corv. And for your fame, That’s such a jig; as if I would go tell it, Cry it on the Piazza! Who shall know it But he that cannot speak it, and this fellow, 50 Whose lips are i’ my pocket? Save yourself, (If you’ll proclaim’t, you may,) I know no other Should come to know it.
Cel. Are heaven and saints then nothing? Will they be blind or stupid?
Corv. How!
Cel. Good sir, Be jealous still, emulate them; and think 55 What hate they burn with toward every sin.
Corv. I grant you: if I thought it were a sin I would not urge you. Should I offer this To some young Frenchman, or hot Tuscan blood That had read Aretine, conn’d all his prints, 60 Knew every quirk within lust’s labyrinth, And were profest critic in lechery; And I would look upon him, and applaud him, This were a sin: but here, ’t is contrary, A pious work, mere charity for physic, 65 And honest polity, to assure mine own.
Cel. O heaven! canst thou suffer such a change?
Volp. Thou art mine honour, Mosca, and my pride, My joy, my tickling, my delight! Go bring ’em.
Mos. [Advancing.] Please you draw near, sir.
Corv. Come on, what—— You will not be rebellious? By that light—— 71
Mos. Sir, Signior Corvino, here, is come to see you.
Volp. Oh!
Mos. And hearing of the consultation had, So lately, for your health, is come to offer, Or rather, sir, to prostitute——
Corv. Thanks, sweet Mosca. 75
Mos. Freely, unask’d, or unintreated——
Corv. Well.
Mos. As the true fervent instance of his love, His own most fair and proper wife; the beauty Only of price in Venice——
Corv. ’T is well urg’d.
Mos. To be your comfortress, and to preserve you. 80
Volp. Alas, I am past, already! Pray you, thank him For his good care and promptness; but for that, ’T is a vain labour e’en to fight ’gainst heaven; Applying fire to stone—uh, uh, uh, uh! [Coughing.] Making a dead leaf grow again. I take 85 His wishes gently, though; and you may tell him What I have done for him: marry, my state is hopeless. Will him to pray for me; and to use his fortune With reverence when he comes to’t.
Mos. Do you hear, sir? Go to him with your wife.
Corv. Heart of my father! 90 Wilt thou persist thus? Come, I pray thee, come. Thou seest ’t is nothing, Celia. By this hand I shall grow violent. Come, do’t, I say.
Cel. Sir, kill me, rather: I will take down poison, Eat burning coals, do anything——
Corv. Be damn’d! 95 Heart, I will drag thee hence home by the hair; Cry thee a strumpet through the streets; rip up Thy mouth unto thine ears; and slit thy nose, Like a raw rochet![1667]—Do not tempt me; come, Yield, I am loth—Death! I will buy some slave 100 Whom I will kill, and bind thee to him alive; And at my windore hang you forth, devising Some monstrous crime, which I, in capital letters, Will eat into thy flesh with aquafortis, 104 And burning cor’sives,[1668] on this stubborn breast. Now, by the blood thou hast incens’d, I’ll do it!
Cel. Sir, what you please, you may; I am your martyr.
Corv. Be not thus obstinate, I ha’ not deserv’d it: Think who it is intreats you. Prithee, sweet;— Good faith, thou shalt have jewels, gowns, attires, 110 What thou wilt think, and ask. Do but go kiss him. Or touch him but. For my sake. At my suit— This once. No! not! I shall remember this. Will you disgrace me thus? Do you thirst my undoing?
Mos. Nay, gentle lady, be advis’d.
Corv. No, no. 115 She has watch’d her time. God’s precious, this is scurvy, ’T is very scurvy; and you are——
Mos. Nay, good sir.
Corv. An arrant locust—by heaven, a locust!— Whore, crocodile, that hast thy tears prepar’d, Expecting how thou’lt bid ’em flow——
Mos. Nay, pray you, sir! 120 She will consider.
Cel. Would my life would serve To satisfy——
Corv. ’Sdeath! if she would but speak to him, And save my reputation, ’t were somewhat; But spitefully to affect my utter ruin!
Mos. Ay, now you have put your fortune in her hands. 125 Why i’ faith, it is her modesty, I must quit her. If you were absent, she would be more coming; I know it: and dare undertake for her. What woman can before her husband? Pray you, Let us depart and leave her here.
Corv. Sweet Celia, 130 Thou mayest redeem all yet; I’ll say no more: If not, esteem yourself as lost. Nay, stay there. [Exit with MOSCA.]
Cel. O God, and his good angels! whither, whither, Is shame fled human breasts? that with such ease, 134 Men dare put off your honours, and their own? Is that, which ever was a cause of life, Now plac’d beneath the basest circumstance, And modesty an exile made, for money?
Volp. Ay, in Corvino, and such earth-fed minds. He leaps from his couch. That never tasted the true heaven of love. 140 Assure thee, Celia, he that would sell thee, Only for hope of gain, and that uncertain, He would have sold his part of Paradise For ready money, had he met a cope-man.[1669] Why art thou maz’d to see me thus reviv’d? Rather applaud thy beauty’s miracle; 146 ’T is thy great work, that hath, not now alone, But sundry times rais’d me, in several shapes, And, but this morning, like a mountebank, To see thee at thy windore: ay, before 150 I would have left my practice, for thy love, In varying figures. I would have contended With the blue Proteus, or the horned flood.[1670] Now art thou welcome.
Cel. Sir!
Volp. Nay, fly me not, Nor let thy false imagination 155 That I was bed-rid, make thee think I am so: Thou shalt not find it. I am now as fresh, As hot, as high, and in as jovial plight As, when, in that so celebrated scene, At recitation of our comedy, 160 For entertainment of the great Valois, I acted young Antinous; and attracted The eyes and ears of all the ladies present, To admire each graceful gesture, note, and footing. [Sings.]
Song[1671]
Come, my Celia, let us prove 165 While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain: Suns that set may rise again; 170 But if once we lose this light, ’T is with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys. Cannot we delude the eyes 175 Of a few poor household spies? Or his easier ears beguile, Thus removed by our wile? ’T is no sin love’s fruits to steal; But the sweet thefts to reveal: 180 To be taken, to be seen, These have crimes accounted been.
Cel. Some serene[1672] blast me, or dire lightning strike This my offending face!
Volp. Why droops my Celia? Thou hast, in place of a base husband found 185 A worthy lover: use thy fortune well, With secrecy and pleasure. See, behold, What thou art queen of; not in expectation, As I feed others: but possess’d and crown’d. See, here, a rope of pearl; and each more orient[1673] Then the brave Aegyptian queen carous’d: 191 Dissolve and drink ’em. See, a carbuncle, May put out both the eyes of our St. Mark; A diamond would have bought Lollia Paulina, When she came in like star-light, hid with jewels 195 That were the spoils of provinces; take these And wear, and lose ’em; yet remains an earring To purchase them again, and this whole state. A gem but worth a private patrimony Is nothing; we will eat such at a meal. 200 The heads of parrots, tongues of nightingales, The brains of peacocks, and of estriches, Shall be our food, and, could we get the phoenix, Though nature lost her kind, she were our dish.
Cel. Good sir, these things might move a mind affected 205 With such delights; but I, whose innocence Is all I can think wealthy, or worth th’ enjoying, And which, once lost, I have nought to lose beyond it, Cannot be taken with these sensual baits: If you have conscience——
Volp. ’T is the beggar’s virtue; If thou hast wisdom, hear me, Celia. 211 Thy baths shall be the juice of July-flowers, Spirit of roses, and of violets, The milk of unicorns, and panthers’ breath 214 Gather’d in bags, and mix’d with Cretan wines. Our drink shall be prepared gold and amber; Which we will take until my root whirl round With the vertigo: and my dwarf shall dance, My eunuch sing, my fool make up the antic, 219 Whilst we, in changed shapes, act Ovid’s tales, Thou, like Europa now, and I like Jove, Then I like Mars, and thou like Erycine: So of the rest, till we have quite run through, And wearied all the fables of the gods. 224 Then will I have thee in more modern forms, Attired like some sprightly dame of France, Brave Tuscan lady, or proud Spanish beauty; Sometimes unto the Persian sophy’s wife; Or the grand signior’s mistress; and for change, To one of our most artful courtesans, 230 Or some quick Negro, or cold Russian; And I will meet thee in as many shapes: Where we may so transfuse our wand’ring souls Out at our lips, and score up sums of pleasures, [Sings.] That the curious shall not know 235 How to tell them as they flow; And the envious, when they find What their number is, be pin’d.
Cel. If you have ears that will be pierc’d—or eyes That can be open’d—a heart that may be touch’d— 240 Or any part that yet sounds man about you— If you have touch of holy saints—or heaven— Do me the grace to let me scape:—if not, Be bountiful and kill me. You do know, I am a creature, hither ill betray’d, 245 By one whose shame I would forget it were: If you will deign me neither of these graces, Yet feed your wrath, sir, rather than your lust, (It is a vice comes nearer manliness,) And punish that unhappy crime of nature, 250 Which you miscall my beauty: flay my face, Or poison it with ointments for seducing Your blood to this rebellion. Rub these hands With what may cause an eating leprosy, E’en to my bones and marrow: anything 255 That may disfavour me, save in my honour— And I will kneel to you, pray for you, pay down A thousand hourly vows, sir, for your health; Report, and think you virtuous——
Volp. Think me cold, Frozen, and impotent, and so report me? 260 That I had Nestor’s hernia, thou wouldst think. I do degenerate, and abuse my nation, To play with opportunity thus long; I should have done the act, and then have parley’d. Yield, or I’ll force thee. [Seizes her.]
Cel. O! just God!
Volp. In vain—— 265
Bon. (leaps out from where MOSCA had placed him.) Forbear, foul ravisher! libidinous swine! Free the forc’d lady, or thou diest, impostor. But that I’m loth to snatch thy punishment Out of the hand of justice, thou shouldst yet Be made the timely sacrifice of vengeance, 270 Before this altar and this dross, thy idol.—— Lady, let ’s quit the place, it is the den Of villany; fear nought, you have a guard: And he ere long shall meet his just reward. 274 [Exeunt BON. and CEL.]
Volp. Fall on me, roof, and bury me in ruin! Become my grave, that wert my shelter! O! I am unmask’d, unspirited, undone, Betray’d to beggary, to infamy——
[SCENE VIII.][1674]
VOLPONE. [Enter] MOSCA, [wounded and bleeding.]
Mos. Where shall I run, most wretched shame of men, To beat out my unlucky brains?
Volp. Here, here. What! dost thou bleed?
Mos. O, that his well-driv’n sword Had been so courteous to have cleft me down Unto the navel, ere I liv’d to see 5 My life, my hopes, my spirits, my patron, all Thus desperately engaged by my error!
Volp. Woe on thy fortune!
Mos. And my follies, sir.
Volp. Thou hast made me miserable.
Mos. And myself, sir. Who would have thought he would have heark’ned so? 10
Volp. What shall we do?
Mos. I know not; if my heart Could expiate the mischance, I’d pluck it out. Will you be pleas’d to hang me, or cut my throat? And I’ll requite you, sir. Let’s die like Romans,[1675] Since we have liv’d like Grecians.
They knock without.
Volp. Hark! who’s there? 15 I hear some footing; officers, the saffi,[1676] Come to apprehend us! I do feel the brand Hissing already at my forehead; now Mine ears are boring.
Mos. To your couch, sir, you, Make that place good, however. [VOLPONE lies down as before.] Guilty men 20 Suspect what they deserve still. Signior Corbaccio!
[SCENE IX.][1677]
[To them enter] CORBACCIO.
Corb. Why, how now, Mosca?
Mos. O, undone, amaz’d, sir. Your son, I know not by what accident, Acquainted with your purpose to my patron, Touching your will, and making him your heir, Ent’red our house with violence, his sword drawn, 5 Sought for you, called you wretch, unnatural, Vow’d he would kill you.
Corb. Me!
Mos. Yes, and my patron.
Corb. This act shall disinherit him indeed: Here is the will.
Mos. ’T is well, sir.
Corb. Right and well: Be you as careful now for me.
[Enter VOLTORE behind.]
Mos. My life, sir, 10 Is not more tender’d; I am only yours.
Corb. How does he? Will he die shortly, think’st thou?
Mos. I fear He’ll outlast May.
Corb. To-day?
Mos. No, last out May, sir.
Corb. Couldst thou not gi’ him a dram?
Mos. O, by no means, sir.
Corb. Nay, I’ll not bid you.
Volt. [coming forward.] This is a knave, I see. 15
Mos. [Aside, seeing VOLT.] How! Signior Voltore! did he hear me?
Volt. Parasite!
Mos. Who ’s that?—O, sir, most timely welcome—
Volt. Scarce, To the discovery of your tricks, I fear. You are his, only? And mine also, are you not?
Mos. Who? I, sir!
Volt. You, sir. What device is this 20 About a will?
Mos. A plot for you, sir.
Volt. Come, Put not your foists[1678] upon me; I shall scent ’em.
Mos. Did you not hear it?
Volt. Yes, I hear Corbaccio Hath made your patron there his heir.
Mos. ’T is true, By my device, drawn to it by my plot, 25 With hope——
Volt. Your patron should reciprocate? And you have promis’d?
Mos. For your good I did, sir. Nay, more, I told his son, brought, hid him here, Where he might hear his father pass the deed; Being persuaded to it by this thought, sir, 30 That the unnaturalness, first, of the act, And then his father’s oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did mean t’ help on), would sure enrage him To do some violence upon his parent, 34 On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope. Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My only aim was to dig you a fortune Out of these two rotten sepulchres——
Volt. I cry thee mercy, Mosca.
Mos. —Worth your patience, 40 And your great merit, sir. And see the change!
Volt. Why, what success?
Mos. Most hapless! you must help, sir. Whilst we expected th’ old raven, in comes Corvino’s wife, sent hither by her husband——
Volt. What, with a present?
Mos. No, sir, on visitation; 45 (I ’ll tell you how anon;) and staying long, The youth he grows impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wounds me, makes her swear (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) T’ affirm my patron to have done her rape: 50 Which how unlike it is, you see! and hence, With that pretext he ’s gone, t’ accuse his father, Defame my patron, defeat you——
Volt. Where ’s her husband? Let him be sent for straight.
Mos. Sir, I ’ll go fetch him.
Volt. Bring him to the Scrutineo.[1679]
Mos. Sir, I will. 55
Volt. This must be stopt.
Mos. O you do nobly, sir. Alas, ’t was labour’d all, sir, for your good; Nor was there want of counsel in the plot: But Fortune can, at any time, o’erthrow The projects of a hundred learned clerks, sir. 60
Corb. [listening.] What ’s that?
Volt. Wilt please you, sir, to go along? [Exit CORBACCIO, followed by VOLTORE.]
Mos. Patron, go in, and pray for our success.
Volp. [rising from his couch.] Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless! [Exeunt.]
Act IV, Scene I — [1680]
[Enter] SIR POLITIC WOULD-BE, PEREGRINE.
Sir P. I told you, sir, it was a plot; you see What observation is! You mention’d me For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met here in this height of Venice.) Some few particulars I have set down, 5 Only for this meridian, fit to be known Of your crude traveller; and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old.
Per. Sir, I have better.
Sir P. Pardon, I meant, as they are themes.
Per. O, sir, proceed: 10 I ’ll slander you no more of wit, good sir.
Sir P. First, for your garb, it must be grave and serious, Very reserv’d and lockt; not tell a secret On any terms, not to your father; scarce A fable, but with caution: make sure choice 15 Both of your company and discourse; beware You never speak a truth——
Per. How!
Sir P. Not to strangers, For those be they you must converse with most; Others I would not know, sir, but at distance So as I still might be a saver in them: 20 You shall have tricks else past upon you hourly. And then, for your religion, profess none, But wonder at the diversity of all; And, for your part, protest, were there no other But simply the laws o’ th’ land, you could content you. 25 Nic. Machiavel and Monsieur Bodin,[1681] both Were of this mind. Then must you learn the use And handling of your silver fork at meals, The metal of your glass; (these are main matters With your Italian;) and to know the hour 30 When you must eat your melons and your figs.
Per. Is that a point of state too?
Sir P. Here it is: For your Venetian, if he see a man Preposterous in the least, he has him straight; He has; he strips him. I ’ll acquaint you, sir. 35 I now have liv’d here ’t is some fourteen months: Within the first week of my landing here, All took me for a citizen of Venice, I knew the forms so well——
Per. [Aside.] And nothing else.
Sir P. I had read Contarene,[1682] took me a house, 40 Dealt with my Jews to furnish it with movables— Well, if I could but find one man, one man To mine own heart, whom I durst trust, I would——
Per. What, what, sir?
Sir P. Make him rich; make him a fortune: He should not think again. I would command it. 45
Per. As how?
Sir P. With certain projects that I have; Which I may not discover.
Per. [Aside.] If I had But one to wager with, I would lay odds now, He tells me instantly.
Sir P. One is, and that I care not greatly who knows, to serve the state Of Venice with red herrings for three years, 51 And at a certain rate, from Rotterdam, Where I have correspondence. There ’s a letter, Sent me from one o’ th’ states, and to that purpose: He cannot write his name, but that ’s his mark. 55
Per. He is a chandler?
Sir P. No, a cheesemonger. There are some others too with whom I treat About the same negotiation; And I will undertake it: for ’t is thus. I ’ll do ’t with ease, I have cast[1683] it all. Your hoy[1684] 60 Carries but three men in her, and a boy; And she shall make me three returns a year: So if there come but one of three, I save; If two, I can defalk:[1685]—but this is now, If my main project fail.
Per. Then you have others? 65
Sir P. I should be loth to draw the subtle air Of such a place, without my thousand aims. I ’ll not dissemble, sir: where’er I come, I love to be considerative; and ’t is true, I have at my free hours thought upon 70 Some certain goods unto the state of Venice, Which I do call my Cautions; and, sir, which I mean, in hope of pension, to propound To the Great Council, then unto the Forty, 75 So to the Ten. My means are made already——
Per. By whom?
Sir P. Sir, one that though his place be obscure, Yet he can sway, and they will hear him. He ’s A commandadore.
Per. What! a common serjeant?
Sir P. Sir, such as they are, put it in their mouths, What they should say, sometimes; as well as greater: 80 I think I have my notes to show you—— [Searching his pockets.]
Per. Good sir.
Sir P. But you shall swear unto me, on your gentry, Not to anticipate——
Per. I, sir!
Sir P. Nor reveal A circumstance——My paper is not with me.
Per. O, but you can remember, sir.
Sir P. My first is 85 Concerning tinder-boxes. You must know, No family is here without its box. Now, sir, it being so portable a thing, Put case, that you or I were ill affected Unto the state, sir; with it in our pockets, 90 Might not I go into the Arsenal, Or you come out again, and none the wiser?
Per. Except yourself, sir.
Sir P. Go to, then. I therefore Advertise to the state, how fit it were That none but such as were known patriots, 95 Sound lovers of their country, should be suffer’d T’ enjoy them in their houses; and even those Seal’d at some office, and at such a bigness As might not lurk in pockets.
Per. Admirable!
Sir P. My next is, how t’ inquire, and be resolv’d 100 By present demonstration, whether a ship, Newly arriv’d from Soria,[1686] or from Any suspected part of all the Levant, Be guilty of the plague: and where they use To lie out forty, fifty days, sometimes, 105 About the Lazaretto, for their trial; I ’ll save that charge and loss unto the merchant, And in an hour clear the doubt.
Per. Indeed, sir!
Sir P. Or——I will lose my labour.
Per. My faith, that ’s much.
Sir. P. Nay, sir, conceive me. It will cost me in onions, 110 Some thirty livres——
Per. Which is one pound sterling.
Sir P. Beside my waterworks: for this I do, sir. First, I bring in your ship ’twixt two brick walls; But those the state shall venture. On the one I strain me a fair tarpauling, and in that 115 I stick my onions, cut in halves; the other Is full of loopholes, out of which I thrust The noses of my bellows; and those bellows I keep, with waterworks, in perpetual motion, Which is the easiest matter of a hundred. 120 Now, sir, your onion, which doth naturally Attract th’ infection, and your bellows blowing The air upon him, will show instantly, By his chang’d colour, if there be contagion; Or else remain as fair as at the first 125 Now it is known, ’t is nothing.
Per. You are right, sir.
Sir P. I would I had my note.
Per. Faith, so would I: But you ha’ done well for once, sir.
Sir P. Were I false, Or would be made so, I could show you reasons How I could sell this state now to the Turk, 130 Spite of their galleys, or their—— [Examining his papers.]
Per. Pray you, Sir Pol.
Sir P. I have ’em not about me.
Per. That I fear’d. They are there, sir?
Sir P. No, this is my diary, Wherein I note my actions of the day. 134
Per. Pray you let ’s see, sir. What is here? Notandum, [Reads.] “A rat had gnawn my spur-leathers; notwithstanding, I put on new, and did go forth; but first I threw three beans over the threshold. Item, I went and bought two toothpicks, whereof one I burst immediately, in a discourse 140 With a Dutch merchant, ’bout ragion’ del stato.[1687] From him I went and paid a moccinigo[1688] For piecing my silk stockings; by the way I cheapen’d[1689] sprats; and at St. Mark’s I urin’d.” ’Faith these are politic notes!
Sir P. Sir, I do slip 145 No action of my life, but thus I quote[1690] it.
Per. Believe me, it is wise!
Sir P. Nay, sir, read forth.
Act IV, Scene II — [1691]
[Enter, at a distance.] LADY POLITIC WOULD-BE, NANO, [and two Waiting]-women.
Lady P. Where should this loose knight be, trow? Sure he ’s hous’d.
Nan. Why, then he ’s fast.
Lady P. Ay, he plays both[1692] with me. I pray you stay. This heat will do more harm To my complexion than his heart is worth. (I do not care to hinder, but to take him.) 5 How it comes off! [Rubbing her cheeks.]
1 Wom. My master ’s yonder.
Lady P. Where?
2 Wom. With a young gentleman.
Lady P. That same ’s the party: In man’s apparel! Pray you, sir, jog my knight: I will be tender to his reputation, However he demerit.
Sir P. [seeing her] My lady!
Per. Where? 10
Sir P. ’T is she indeed, sir; you shall know her. She is, Were she not mine, a lady of that merit, For fashion and behaviour; and for beauty I durst compare——
Per. It seems you are not jealous, That dare commend her.
Sir P. Nay, and for discourse—— 15
Per. Being your wife, she cannot miss that.
Sir. P. [introducing PER.] Madam, Here is a gentleman, pray you, use him fairly; He seems a youth, but he is——
Lady P. None.
Sir P. Yes one Has put his face as soon into the world——
Lady P. You mean, as early? But to-day?
Sir P. How ’s this? 20
Lady P. Why, in this habit, sir; you apprehend me. Well, Master Would-be, this doth not become you; I had thought the odour, sir, of your good name Had been more precious to you; that you would not Have done this dire massacre on your honour; One of your gravity, and rank besides! 26 But knights, I see, care little for the oath They make to ladies; chiefly their own ladies.
Sir P. Now, by my spurs, the symbol of my knighthood——
Per. [Aside.] Lord, how his brain is humbl’d for an oath! 30
Sir P. I reach[1693] you not.
Lady P. Right, sir, your polity May bear it through thus. Sir, a word with you.
[To PER.]
I would be loth to contest publicly With any gentlewoman, or to seem Froward, or violent, as the courtier says; 35 It comes too near rusticity in a lady, Which I would shun by all means: and however I may deserve from Master Would-be, yet T’ have one fair gentlewoman thus be made The unkind instrument to wrong another, 40 And one she knows not, ay, and to perséver; In my poor judgment, is not warranted From being a solecism in our sex, If not in manners.
Per. How is this!
Sir P. Sweet madam, Come nearer to your aim.
Lady P. Marry, and will, sir. 45 Since you provoke me with your impudence, And laughter of your light land-syren here, Your Sporus, your hermaphrodite——
Per. What ’s here? Poetic fury and historic storms! 49
Sir P. The gentleman, believe it, is of worth And of our nation.
Lady P. Ay, your Whitefriars nation.[1694] Come, I blush for you. Master Would-be, I; And am asham’d you should ha’ no more fore-head Than thus to be the patron, or St. George, To a lewd harlot, a base fricatrice,[1695] 55 A female devil, in a male outside.
Sir P. Nay, An you be such a one, I must bid adieu To your delights. The case appears too liquid. [Exit.]
Lady P. Ay, you may carry ’t clear, with you state-face! But for your carnival concupiscence, 60 Who here is fled for liberty of conscience, From furious persecution of the marshal, Her will I disc’ple.[1696]
Per. This is fine, i’ faith! And do you use this often? Is this part Of your wit’s exercise, ’gainst you have occasion? 65 Madam——
Lady P. Go to, sir.
Per. Do you hear me, lady? Why, if your knight have set you to beg shirts, Or to invite me home, you might have done it A nearer way by far.
Lady P. This cannot work you Out of my snare.
Per. Why, am I in it, then? 70 Indeed your husband told me you were fair, And so you are; only your nose inclines, That side that ’s next the sun, to the queen-apple.[1697]
Lady P. This cannot be endur’d by any patience.
Act IV, Scene III — [1698]
[To them enter] MOSCA.
Mos. What is the matter, madam?
Lady P. If the senate Right not my quest in this, I will protest ’em To all the world no aristocracy.
Mos. What is the injury, lady?
Lady P. Why, the callet[1695] You told me of, here I have ta’en disguis’d. 5
Mos. Who? this! what means your ladyship? The creature I mention’d to you is apprehended now, Before the senate; you shall see her——
Lady P. Where?
Mos. I ’ll bring you to her. This young gentleman, I saw him land this morning at the port. 10
Lady P. Is ’t possible! how has my judgment wander’d? Sir, I must, blushing, say to you, I have err’d; And plead your pardon.
Per. What, more changes yet!
Lady P. I hope you ha’ not the malice to remember A gentlewoman’s passion. If you stay 15 In Venice here, please you to use me, sir——
Mos. Will you go, madam?
Lady P. Pray you, sir, use me; in faith. The more you see me the more I shall conceive You have forgot our quarrel. [Exeunt LADY WOULD-BE, MOSCA, NANO, and Waiting-women.]
Per. This is rare! Sir Politic Would-be? No, Sir Politic Bawd, 20 To bring me thus acquainted with his wife! Well, wise Sir Pol, since you have practis’d thus Upon my freshman-ship, I ’ll try your salt-head, What proof it is against a counter-plot. [Exit.]
Act IV, Scene IV — [1699]
[Enter] VOLTORE, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, MOSCA.
Volt. Well, now you know the carriage of the business, Your constancy is all that is requir’d Unto the safety of it.
Mos. Is the lie Safely convey’d[1700] amongst us? Is that sure? Knows every man his burden?
Corv. Yes.
Mos. Then shrink not. 5
Corv. But knows the advocate the truth?
Mos. O, sir, By no means; I devis’d a formal tale, That salv’d your reputation. But be valiant, sir.
Corv. I fear no one but him that this his pleading Should make him stand for a co-heir——
Mos. Co-halter! 10 Hang him; we will but use his tongue, his noise, As we do croaker’s[1701] here.
Corv. Ay, what shall he do?
Mos. When we ha’ done, you mean?
Corv. Yes.
Mos. Why, we ’ll think; Sell him for mummia:[1702] he ’s half dust already.—— Do you not smile, (to VOLTORE) to see this buffalo,[1703] 16 How he doth sport it with his head? [Aside.] I should, If all were well and past.—Sir, (to CORBACCIO) only you Are he that shall enjoy the crop of all, And these not know for whom they toil.
Corb. Ay, peace.
Mos. (turning to CORVINO.) But you shall eat it. [Aside.] Much!—Worshipful sir, (to VOLTORE) 20 Mercury sit upon your thund’ring tongue, Or the French Hercules, and make your language As conquering as his club, to beat along, As with a tempest, flat, our adversaries; But much more yours, sir.
Volt. Here they come, ha’ done. 25
Mos. I have another witness, if you need, sir, I can produce.
Volt. Who is it?
Mos. Sir, I have her.
Act IV, Scene V — [1704]
[Enter] 4 Avocatori, [and take their seats,] BONARIO, CELIA, Notario, Commandadori, Saffi, and other Officers of Justice.]
1 Avoc. The like of this the senate never heard of.
2 Avoc. ’T will come most strange to them when we report it.
4 Avoc. The gentlewoman has been ever held Of unreproved name.
3 Avoc. So has the youth.
4 Avoc. The more unnatural part that of his father. 5
2 Avoc. More of the husband.
1 Avoc. I not know to give His act a name, it is so monstrous!
4 Avoc. But the impostor, he ’s a thing created. T’ exceed example!
1 Avoc. And all after-times!
2 Avoc. I never heard a true voluptuary 10 Describ’d but him.
3 Avoc. Appear yet those were cited?
Not. All but the old magnifico, Volpone.
1 Avoc. Why is not he here?
Mos. Please your fatherhoods, Here is his advocate: himself ’s so weak, So feeble——
4 Avoc. Who are you?
Bon. His parasite, 15 His knave, his pander. I beseech the court He may be forc’d to come, that your grave eyes May bear strong witness of his strange impostures.
Volt. Upon my faith and credit with your virtues. He is not able to endure the air. 20
2 Avoc. Bring him.
3 Avoc. We will see him.
4 Avoc. Fetch him.
Volt. Your fatherhoods’ fit pleasures be obey’d; [Exeunt Officers.] But sure, the sight will rather move your pities Than indignation. May it please the court, In the mean time, he may be heard in me. 25 I know this place most void of prejudice, And therefore crave it, since we have no reason To fear our truth should hurt our cause.
3 Avoc. Speak free.
Volt. Then know, most honour’d fathers, I must now Discover to your strangely abus’d ears, 30 The most prodigious and most frontless piece Of solid impudence, and treachery, That ever vicious nature yet brought forth To shame the state of Venice. This lewd woman, That wants no artificial looks or tears 35 To help the vizor she has now put on, Hath long been known a close adulteress To that lascivious youth there; not suspected, I say, but known, and taken in the act 40 With him; and by this man, the easy husband, Pardon’d; whose timeless bounty makes him now Stand here, the most unhappy, innocent person, That ever man’s own goodness made accus’d. For these not knowing how to owe a gift Of that dear grace, but with their shame; being plac’d 45 So above all powers of their gratitude, Began to hate the benefit; and in place Of thanks, devise t’ extirp the memory Of such an act: wherein I pray your fatherhoods To observe the malice, yea, the rage of creatures 50 Discover’d in their evils: and what heart Such take, ev’n from their crimes:—but that anon Will more appear.—This gentleman, the father, Hearing of this foul fact, with many others, Which daily struck at his too tender ears, 55 And griev’d in nothing more than that he could not Preserve himself a parent (his son’s ills Growing to that strange flood), at last decreed To disinherit him.
1 Avoc. These be strange turns!
2 Avoc. The young man’s fame was ever fair and honest. 60
Volt. So much more full of danger is his vice, That can beguile so, under shade of virtue, But, as I said, my honour’d sires, his father Having this settled purpose, by what means To him betray’d, we know not, and this day 65 Appointed for the deed; that parricide, I cannot style him better, by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Ent’red Volpone’s house (who was the man, Your fatherhoods must understand, design’d 70 For the inheritance), there sought his father:— But with what purpose sought he him, my lords? I tremble to pronounce it, that a son Unto a father, and to such a father, Should have so foul, felonious intent! 75 It was to murder him: when being prevented By his more happy absence, what then did he? Not check his wicked thoughts; no, now new deeds; (Mischief doth never end where it begins) An act of horror, fathers! He dragg’d forth 80 The aged gentleman that had there lain bed-rid Three years and more, out of his innocent couch, Naked upon the floor; there left him; wounded His servant in the face; and with this strumpet, The stale[1705] to his forg’d practice, who was glad To be so active,—(I shall here desire 85 Your fatherhoods to note but my collections, As most remarkable,—) thought at once to stop His father’s ends, discredit his free choice In the old gentleman, redeem themselves, 90 By laying infamy upon this man, To whom, with blushing, they should owe their lives.
1 Avoc. What proofs have you of this?
Bon. Most honour’d fathers, I humbly crave there be no credit given To this man’s mercenary tongue.
2 Avoc. Forbear. 95
Bon. His soul moves in his fee.
3 Avoc. O, sir.
Bon. This fellow, For six sols[1706] more would plead against his Maker.
1 Avoc. You do forget yourself.
Volt. Nay, nay, grave fathers, Let him have scope: can any man imagine 99 That he will spare his accuser, that would not Have spar’d his parent?
1 Avoc. Well, produce your proofs.
Cel. I would I could forget I were a creature.
Volt. Signior Corbaccio! [CORBACCIO comes forward.]
4 Avoc. What is he?
Volt. The father.
2 Avoc. Has he had an oath?
Not. Yes.
Corb. What must I do now? 104
Not. Your testimony’s crav’d.
Corb. Speak to the knave? I ’ll ha’ my mouth first stopt with earth; my heart Abhors his knowledge: I disclaim in[1707] him.
1 Avoc. But for what cause?
Corb. The mere portent of nature! He is an utter stranger to my loins. 109
Bon. Have they made you to[1708] this?
Corb. I will not hear thee, Monster of men, swine, goat, wolf, parricide! Speak not, thou viper.
Bon. Sir, I will sit down. And rather wish my innocence should suffer Than I resist the authority of a father. 114
Volt. Signior Corvino! [CORVINO comes forward.]
2 Avoc. This is strange.
1 Avoc. Who ’s this?
Not. The husband.
4 Avoc. Is he sworn?
Not. He is.
3 Avoc. Speak then.
Corv. This woman, please your fatherhoods, is a whore, Of most hot exercise, more than a partridge, Upon record——-
1 Avoc. No more.
Corv. Neighs like a jennet. 119
Not. Preserve the honour of the court.
Corv. I shall, And modesty of your most reverend ears, And yet I hope that I may say, these eyes Have seen her glu’d unto that piece of cedar, That fine well timber’d gallant: and that here The letters maybe read, thorough the horn,[1709] 125 That make the story perfect.
Mos. Excellent! sir.
Corv. [Aside to MOSCA.] There is no shame in this now, is there?
Mos. None.
Corv. Or if I said, I hop’d that she were onward To her damnation, if there be a hell Greater than whore and woman, a good Catholic 130 May make the doubt.
3 Avoc. His grief hath made him frantic.
1 Avoc. Remove him hence.
2 Avoc. Look to the woman. CELIA swoons.
Corv. Rare! Prettily feign’d again!
4 Avoc. Stand from about her.
1 Avoc. Give her the air.
3 Avoc. What can you say? [To MOSCA.]
Mos. My wound, May it please your wisdoms, speaks for me, receiv’d 135 In aid of my good patron, when he mist His sought-for father, when that well-taught dame Had her cue giv’n her to cry out, “A rape!”
Bon. O most laid[1710] impudence! Fathers—
3 Avoc. Sir, be silent; 139 You had your hearing free, so must they theirs.
2 Avoc. I do begin to doubt th’ imposture here.
4 Avoc. This woman has too many moods.
Volt. Grave fathers, She is a creature of a most profest And prostituted lewdness.
Corv. Most impetuous, 144 Unsatisfi’d, grave fathers!
Volt. May her feignings Not take your wisdoms: but this day she baited A stranger, a grave knight, with her loose eyes, And more lascivious kisses. This man saw ’em Together on the water, in a gondola.
Mos. Here is the lady herself, that saw them too, 150 Without; who then had in the open streets Pursu’d them, but for saving her knight’s honour.
1 Avoc. Produce that lady.
2 Avoc. Let her come. [Exit MOSCA.]
4 Avoc. These things, They strike with wonder.
3 Avoc. I am turn’d a stone.
Act IV, Scene VI — [1711]
[To them re-enter] MOSCA [with] LADY WOULD-BE.
Mos. Be resolute, madam.
Lady P. Ay, this same is she. [Pointing to CELIA.] Out, thou chameleon harlot! now thine eyes Vie tears with the hyena. Dar’st thou look Upon my wronged face? I cry your pardons, I fear I have forgettingly transgrest 5 Against the dignity of the court——
2 Avoc. No, madam.
Lady P. And been exorbitant——
2 Avoc. You have not, lady.
4 Avoc. These proofs are strong.
Lady P. Surely, I had no purpose To scandalize your honours, or my sex’s.
3 Avoc. We do believe it.
Lady P. Surely you may believe it. 10
2 Avoc. Madam, we do.
Lady P. Indeed you may; my breeding Is not so coarse——
4 Avoc. We know it.
Lady P. To offend With pertinacy——
3 Avoc. Lady——
Lady P. Such a presence! No surely.
1 Avoc. We will think it.
Lady P. You may think it.
1 Avoc. Let her o’ercome. What witnesses have you, 15 To make good your report?
Bon. Our consciences.
Cel. And heaven, that never fails the innocent.
1 Avoc. These are no testimonies.
Bon. Not in your courts, Where multitude and clamour overcomes.
1 Avoc. Nay, then you do wax insolent.
VOLPONE is brought in, as impotent.
Volt. Here, here, 20 The testimony comes that will convince, And put to utter dumbness their bold tongues! See here, grave fathers, here ’s the ravisher, The rider on men’s wives, the great impostor, The grand voluptuary! Do you not think 25 These limbs should affect venery? or these eyes Covet a concubine? Pray you mark these hands; Are they not fit to stroke a lady’s breasts? Perhaps he doth dissemble!
Bon. So he does.
Volt. Would you ha’ him tortur’d?
Bon. I would have him prov’d. 30
Volt. Best try him then with goads, or burning irons; Put him to the strappado: I have heard The rack hath cur’d the gout; faith, give it him, And help him of a malady; be courteous. 34 I’ll undertake, before these honour’d fathers, He shall have yet as many left diseases, As she has known adulterers, or thou strumpets. O, my most equal hearers, if these deeds, Acts of this bold and most exorbitant strain, May pass with suff’rance, what one citizen 40 But owes the forfeit of his life, yea, fame, To him that dares traduce him? Which of you Are safe, my honour’d fathers? I would ask, With leave of your grave fatherhoods, if their plot Have any face or colour like to truth? 45 Or if, unto the dullest nostril here, It smell not rank, and most abhorred slander? I crave your care of this good gentleman, Whose life is much endanger’d by their fable; And as for them, I will conclude with this, 50 That vicious persons, when they’re hot, and flesh’d In impious acts, their constancy[1712] abounds: Damn’d deeds are done with greatest confidence.
1 Avoc. Take ’em to custody, and sever them.
2 Avoc. ’T is pity two such prodigies should live. 55
1 Avoc. Let the old gentleman be return’d with care. [Exeunt Officers with VOLPONE.] I’m sorry our credulity wrong’d him.
4 Avoc. These are two creatures!
3 Avoc. I’ve an earthquake in me.
2 Avoc. Their shame, ev’n in their cradles, fled their faces.
4 Avoc. You have done a worthy service to the state, sir, 60 In their discovery. [To VOLT.]
1 Avoc. You shall hear, ere night, What punishment the court decrees upon ’em. [Exeunt Avocat., Not., and Officers with BONARIO and CELIA.]
Volt. We thank your fatherhoods. How like you it?
Mos. Rare. I’d ha’ your tongue, sir, tipt with gold for this; I’d ha’ you be the heir to the whole city; 65 The earth I’d have want men ere you want living: They ’re bound to erect your statue in St. Mark’s. Signior Corvino, I would have you go And show yourself that you have conquer’d.
Corv. Yes.
Mos. It was much better that you should profess 70 Yourself a cuckold thus, than that the other Should have been prov’d.
Corv. Nay, I consider’d that: Now it is her fault.
Mos. Then it had been yours.
Corv. True; I do doubt this advocate still.
Mos. I’ faith. You need not, I dare ease you of that care. 75
Corv. I trust thee, Mosca. [Exit.]
Mos. As your own soul, sir.
Corb. Mosca!
Mos. Now for your business, sir.
Corb. How! ha’ you business?
Mos. Yes, yours, sir.
Corb. O, none else?
Mos. None else, not I.
Corb. Be careful then.
Mos. Rest you with both your eyes, sir.
Corb. Dispatch it.
Mos. Instantly.
Corb. And look that all, 80 Whatever, be put in, jewels, plate, moneys, Household stuff, bedding, curtains.
Mos. Curtain-rings, sir: Only the advocate’s fee must be deducted.
Corb. I’ll pay him now; you’ll be too prodigal.
Mos. Sir, I must tender it.
Corb. Two chequins is well. 85
Mos. No, six, sir.
Corb. ’Tis too much.
Mos. He talk’d a great while; You must consider that, sir.
Corb. Well, there ’s three——
Mos. I’ll give it him.
Corb. Do so, and there ’s for thee. [Exit.]
Mos. [Aside.] Bountiful bones! What horrid strange offence Did he commit ’gainst nature, in his youth, 90 Worthy this age?—You see, sir, [to VOLT] how I work Unto your ends; take you no notice.
Volt. No, I’ll leave you.
Mos. All is yours, the devil and all, Good advocate!—Madam, I’ll bring you home.
Lady P. No, I’ll go see your patron.
Mos. That you shall not: 95 I’ll tell you why. My purpose is to urge My patron to reform his will, and for The zeal you’ve shown to-day, whereas before You were but third or fourth, you shall be now 99 Put in the first; which would appear as begg’d If you were present. Therefore——
Lady P. You shall sway me. [Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene I — [1713]
[Enter] VOLPONE.
Volp. Well, I am here, and all this brunt is past. I ne’er was in dislike with my disguise Till this fled moment: here ’t was good, in private; But in your public,—cave whilst I breathe. 4 ’Fore God, my left leg ’gan to have the cramp, And I apprehended straight some power had struck me With a dead palsy. Well! I must be merry, And shake it off. A many of these fears Would put me into some villanous disease, Should they come thick upon me: I ’ll prevent ’em. 10 Give me a bowl of lusty wine, to fright This humour from my heart. (Drinks.) Hum, hum, hum! ’T is almost gone already; I shall conquer. Any device now of rare ingenious knavery, 14 That would possess me with a violent laughter, Would make me up again. (Drinks again.) So, so, so, so! This heat is life; ’t is blood by this time:—Mosca!
Act V, Scene II — [1714]
VOLPONE. [Enter] MOSCA.
Mos. How now, sir? Does the day look clear again? Are we recover’d, and wrought out of error, Into our way, to see our path before us? Is our trade free once more?
Volp. Exquisite Mosca!
Mos. Was it not carri’d learnedly?
Volp. And stoutly: 5 Good wits are greatest in extremities.
Mos. It were folly beyond thought to trust Any grand act unto a cowardly spirit. You are not taken with it enough, methinks.
Volp. O, more than if I had enjoy’d the wench: 10 The pleasure of all woman-kind ’s not like it.
Mos. Why, now you speak, sir. We must here be fix’d; Here we must rest; this is our masterpiece; We cannot think to go beyond this.
Volp. True, Thou host play’d thy prize, my precious Mosca.
Mos. Nay, sir, 15 To gull the court——
Volp. And quite divert the torrent Upon the innocent.
Mos. Yes, and to make So rare a music out of discords——
Volp. Right. That yet to me ’s the strangest, how thou ’st borne it! That these, being so divided ’mongst themselves, 20 Should not scent somewhat, or in me or thee, Or doubt their own side.
Mos. True, they will not see ’t. Too much light blinds ’em, I think. Each of ’em Is so possest and stuft with his own hopes That anything unto the contrary, 25 Never so true, or never so apparent, Never so palpable, they will resist it——
Volp. Like a temptation of the devil.
Mos. Right, sir. Merchants may talk of trade, and your great signiors Of land that yields well; but if Italy 30 Have any glebe more fruitful than these fellows, I am deceiv’d. Did not your advocate rare?
Volp. O—“My most honour’d fathers, my grave fathers, Under correction of your fatherhoods, What face of truth is here? If these strange deeds 35 May pass, most honour’d fathers”—I had much ado To forbear laughing.
Mos. It seem’d to me, you sweat, sir.
Volp. In troth, I did a little.
Mos. But confess, sir, Were you not daunted?
Volp. In good faith, I was A little in a mist, but not dejected; 40 Never but still myself.
Mos. I think it, sir. Now, so truth help me, I must needs say this, sir, And out of conscience for your advocate, He has taken pains, in faith, sir, and deserv’d, In my poor judgment, I speak it under favour, 45 Not to contrary you, sir, very richly— Well—to be cozen’d.
Volp. Troth, and I think so too, By that I heard him in the latter end.
Mos. O, but before, sir: had you heard him first Draw it to certain heads, then aggravate, 50 Then use his vehement figures—I look’d still When he would shift a shirt; and doing this Out of pure love, no hope of gain——
Volp. ’T is right. I cannot answer him, Mosca, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, 65 I will begin, even now—to vex ’em all, This very instant.
Mos. Good sir.
Volp. Call the dwarf And eunuch forth.
Mos. Castrone, Nano!
[Enter CASTRONE and NANO.]
Nano. Here.
Volp. Shall we have a jig now?
Mos. What you please, sir.
Volp. Go, Straight give out about the streets, you two, 60 That I am dead; do it with constancy, Sadly,[1715] do you hear? Impute it to the grief Of this late slander. [Exeunt CAST. and NANO.]
Mos. What do you mean, sir?
Volp. O, I shall have instantly my Vulture, Crow, Raven, come flying hither, on the news, 65 To peck for carrion, my she-wolf, and all, Greedy, and full of expectation——
Mos. And then to have it ravish’d from their mouths!
Volp. ’T is true. I will ha’ thee put on a gown, 69 And take upon thee, as thou wert mine heir; Show ’em a will. Open that chest, and reach Forth one of those that has the blanks; I ’ll straight Put in thy name.
Mos. It will be rare, sir. [Gives him a paper.]
Volp. Ay, When they e’en gape, and find themselves deluded—— 74
Mos. Yes.
Volp. And thou use them scurvily! Dispatch, Get on thy gown.
Mos. [putting on a gown.] But what, sir, if they ask After the body?
Volp. Say, it was corrupted.
Mos. I ’ll say it stunk, sir; and was fain to have it Coffin’d up instantly, and sent away.
Volp. Anything; what thou wilt. Hold, here ’s my will. 80 Get thee a cap, a count-book, pen and ink, Papers afore thee; sit as thou wert taking An inventory of parcels. I ’ll get up Behind the curtain, on a stool, and hearken: Sometime peep over, see how they do look, 85 With what degrees their blood doth leave their faces. O, ’t will afford me a rare meal of laughter!
Mos. [putting on a cap, and setting out the table, &c.] Your advocate will turn stark dull upon it.
Volp. It will take off his oratory’s edge. 90
Mos. But your clarissimo, old roundback, he Will crump you like a hog-louse, with the touch.
Volp. And what Corvino?
Mos. O, sir, look for him, To-morrow morning, with a rope and dagger, To visit all the streets; he must run mad, My lady too, that came into the court, 95 To bear false witness for your worship——
Volp. Yes, And kiss’d me ’fore the fathers, when my face Flow’d all with oils——
Mos. And sweat, sir. Why, your gold Is such another med’cine, it dries up All those offensive savours: it transforms 100 The most deformed, and restores them lovely, As ’t were the strange poetical girdle.[1716] Jove Could not invent t’ himself a shroud more subtle To pass Acrisius’[1717] guards. It is the thing Makes all the world her grace, her youth, her beauty. 105
Volp. I think she loves me.
Mos. Who? The lady, sir? She ’s jealous of you.
Volp. Dost thou say so? [Knocking within.]
Mos. Hark. There ’s some already.
Volp. Look.
Mos. It is the Vulture; He has the quickest scent.
Volp. I ’ll to my place, Thou to thy posture. [Goes behind the curtain.]
Mos. I am set.
Volp. But, Mosca, 110 Play the artificer now, torture ’em rarely.
Act V, Scene III — [1718]
MOSCA. [Enter] VOLTORE.
Volt. How now, my Mosca?
Mos. [writing]. “Turkey carpets, nine——”
Volt. Taking an inventory! that is well.
Mos. “Two suits of bedding, tissue——”
Volt. Where ’s the will? Let me read that the while.
[Enter Servants with CORBACCIO in a chair.]
Corb. So, set me down, And get you home. [Exeunt Servants.] 5
Volt. Is he come now, to trouble us?
Mos. “Of cloth of gold, two more——”
Corb. Is it done, Mosca?
Mos. “Of several velvets, eight——”
Volt. I like his care.
Corb. Dost thou not hear?
[Enter CORVINO.]
Corv. Ha! is the hour come, Mosca?
Volp. Ay, now they muster. Peeps from behind a traverse.
Corv. What does the advocate here, 10 Or this Corbaccio?
Corb. What do these here?
[Enter LADY POL. WOULD-BE.]
Lady P. Mosca! Is his thread spun?
Mos. “Eight chests of linen——”
Volp. O, My fine Dame Would-be, too!
Corv. Mosca, the will, That I may show it these, and rid ’em hence.
Mos. “Six chests of diaper, four of damask.”—There. 15 [Gives them the will carelessly, over his shoulder.]
Corb. Is that the will?
Mos. “Down-beds, and bolsters——”
Volp. Rare! Be busy still. Now they begin to flutter: They never think of me. Look, see, see, see! How their swift eyes run over the long deed, Unto the name, and to the legacies, 20 What is bequeath’d them there——
Mos. “Ten suits of hangings——”
Volp. Ay, in their garters, Mosca. Now their hopes Are at the gasp.
Volt. Mosca the heir.
Corb. What ’s that?
Volp. My advocate is dumb; look to my merchant, He ’s heard of some strange storm, a ship is lost, 25 He faints; my lady will swoon. Old glazen-eyes, He hath not reach’d his despair yet.
Corb. All these Are out of hope; I am, sure, the man. [Takes the will.]
Corv. But, Mosca——
Mos. “Two cabinets——”
Corv. Is this in earnest?
Mos. “One Of ebony——”
Corv. Or do you but delude me? 30
Mos. “The other, mother of pearl.”—I ’m very busy, Good faith, it is a fortune thrown upon me— “Item, one salt of agate”—not my seeking.
Lady P. Do you hear, sir?
Mos. “A perfum’d box”—Pray you forbear, You see I ’m troubl’d—“made of an onyx——”
Lady P. How! 35
Mos. To-morrow or next day, I shall be at leisure To talk with you all.
Corv. Is this my large hope’s issue?
Lady P. Sir, I must have a fairer answer.
Mos. Madam! Marry, and shall: pray you, fairly quit my house. Nay, raise no tempest with your looks; but hark you, 40 Remember what your ladyship off’red me To put you in an heir; go to, think on it: And what you said e’en your best madams did For maintenance; and why not you? Enough. Go home, and use the poor Sir Pol, your knight, well, 45 For fear I tell some riddles; go, be melancholic. [Exit LADY WOULD-BE.]
Volp. O, my fine devil!
Corv. Mosca, pray you a word.
Mos. Lord! will not you take your dispatch hence yet? Methinks, of all, you should have been th’ example. Why should you stay here? With what thought, what promise? 50 Hear you; do you not know, I know you an ass, And that you would most fain have been a wittol If fortune would have let you? that you are A declar’d cuckold, on good terms? This pearl, You ’ll say, was yours? right: this diamond? 55 I ’ll not deny ’t, but thank you. Much here else? It may be so. Why, think that these good works May help to hide your bad. I ’ll not betray you; Although you be but extraordinary, And have it only in title, it sufficeth: 60 Go home, be melancholy too, or mad. [Exit CORVINO.]
Volp. Rare Mosca! how his villany becomes him!
Volt. Certain he doth delude all these for me.
Corb. Mosca the heir!
Volp. O, his four eyes have found it.
Corb. I am cozen’d, cheated, by a parasite-slave; 65 Harlot,[1719] th’ hast gull’d me.
Mos. Yes, sir. Stop your mouth, Or I shall draw the only tooth is left. Are not you he, that filthy covetous wretch, With the three legs, that here, in hope of prey, Have, any time this three years, snuff’d about, With your most grov’ling nose, and would have hir’d 71 Me to the pois’ning of my patron, sir? Are not you he that have to-day in court Profess’d the disinheriting of your son? Perjur’d yourself? Go home, and die, and stink; 75 If you but croak a syllable, all comes out: Away, and call your porters! [Exit CORBACCIO.] Go, go, stink.
Volp. Excellent varlet!
Volt. Now, my faithful Mosca, I find thy constancy——
Mos. Sir!
Volt. Sincere.
Mos. [writing.] “A table Of porphyry”—I marle[1720] you ’ll be thus troublesome. 80
Volt. Nay, leave off now, they are gone.
Mos. Why, who are you? What! who did send for you? O, cry you mercy, Reverend sir! Good faith, I am griev’d for you, That any chance of mine should thus defeat Your (I must needs say) most deserving travails: 85 But I protest, sir, it was cast upon me, And I could almost wish to be without it, But that the will o’ the dead must be observ’d. Marry, my joy is that you need it not; You have a gift, sir (thank your education), 90 Will never let you want, while there are men, And malice, to breed causes.[1721] Would I had But half the like, for all my fortune, sir! If I have any suits, as I do hope, Things being so easy and direct, I shall not, 95 I will make bold with your obstreperous aid, Conceive me—for your fee, sir. In mean time, You that have so much law, I know ha’ the conscience Not to be covetous of what is mine. Good sir, I thank you for my plate; ’t will help 100 To set up a young man. Good faith, you look As you were costive; best go home and purge, sir. [Exit VOLTORE.]
Volp. [comes from behind the curtain.] Bid him eat lettuce[1722] well. My witty mischief, Let me embrace thee. O that I could now Transform thee to a Venus!—Mosca, go, 105 Straight take my habit of clarissimo, And walk the streets; be seen, torment ’em more: We must pursue, as well as plot. Who would Have lost this feast?
Mos. I doubt it will lose them.
Volp. O, my recovery shall recover all. 110 That I could now but think on some disguise To meet ’em in, and ask ’em questions: How I would vex ’em still at every turn!
Mos. Sir, I can fit you.
Volp. Canst thou?
Mos. Yes, I know One o’ the commandadori, sir, so like you; 115 Him will I straight make drunk, and bring you his habit.
Volp. A rare disguise, and answering thy brain! O, I will be a sharp disease unto ’em.
Mos. Sir, you must look for curses——
Volp. Till they burst; The Fox fares ever best when he is curst. 120 [Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene IV — [1723]
[Enter] PEREGRINE [disguised and] three Mercatori.
Per. Am I enough disguis’d?
1 Mer. I warrant you.
Per. All my ambition is to fright him only.
2 Mer. If you could ship him away, ’t were excellent.
3 Mer. To Zant, or to Aleppo!
Per. Yes, and ha’ his Adventures put i’ th’ Book of Voyages, 5 And his gull’d story regist’red for truth. Well, gentlemen, when I am in a while, And that you think us warm in our discourse, Know your approaches.
1 Mer. Trust it to our care. 9 [Exeunt Merchants.]
[Enter Waiting-woman.]
Per. Save you, fair lady! Is Sir Pol within?
Wom. I do not know, sir.
Per. Pray you say unto him Here is a merchant, upon earnest business, Desires to speak with him.
Wom. I will see, sir. [Exit.]
Per. Pray you. I see the family is all female here.
[Re-enter Waiting-woman.]
Wom. He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state, 15 That now require him whole; some other time You may possess him.
Per. Pray you say again, If those require him whole, these will exact him, Whereof I bring him tidings. [Exit Woman.] What might be His grave affair of state now! How to make 20 Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing One o’ th’ ingredients?
[Re-enter Waiting-woman.]
Wom. Sir, he says, he knows By your word “tidings,” that you are no statesman, And therefore wills you stay.
Per. Sweet, pray you return him; I have not read so many proclamations, 25 And studied them for words, as he has done—— But—here he deigns to come. [Exit Woman.]
[Enter SIR POLITIC.]
Sir P. Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanc’d to-day Unkind disaster ’twixt my lady and me; And I was penning my apology, 30 To give her satisfaction, as you came now.
Per. Sir, I am griev’d I bring you worse disaster: The gentleman you met at th’ port to-day, That told you he was newly arriv’d——
Sir P. Ay, was A fugitive punk?
Per. No, sir, a spy set on you: 35 And he has made relation to the senate, That you protest to him to have a plot To sell the State of Venice to the Turk.
Sir P. O me!
Per. For which warrants are sign’d by this time, To apprehend you, and to search your study 40 For papers——
Sir P. Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Drawn out of play-books——
Per. All the better, sir.
Sir P. And some essays. What shall I do?
Per. Sir, best Convey yourself into a sugar-chest; Or, if you could lie round, a frail[1724] were rare; 45 And I could send you aboard.
Sir P. Sir, I but talk’d so. For discourse sake merely. [They knock without.]
Per. Hark! they are there.
Sir P. I am a wretch, a wretch!
Per. What will you do, sir? Have you ne’er a currant-butt to leap into? They’ll put you to the rack; you must be sudden. 50
Sir P. Sir, I have an engine[1725]———
3 Mer. [within.] Sir Politic Would-be!
2 Mer. [within.] Where is he?
Sir P. That I ’ve thought upon before time.
Per. What is it?
Sir P. I shall ne’er endure the torture. Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell, Fitted for these extremities: pray you, sir, help me. 55 Here I’ve a place, sir, to put back my legs, Please you to lay it on, sir, [Lies down while PER. places the shell upon him.]—with this cap, And my black gloves. I’ll lie, sir, like a tortoise, Till they are gone.
Per. And call you this an engine?
Sir P. Mine own device.——Good sir, bid my wife’s women 60 To burn my papers. [Exit PER.]
The three Merchants rush in.
1 Mer. Where is he hid?
3 Mer. We must, And will sure find him.
2 Mer. Which is his study?
[Re-enter PEREGRINE.]
1 Mer. What Are you, sir?
Per. I ’m a merchant, that came here To look upon this tortoise?
3 Mer. How!
1 Mer. St. Mark! What beast is this?
Per. It is a fish.
2 Mer. Come out here! 65
Per. Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him; He ’ll bear a cart.
1 Mer. What, to run over him?
Per. Yes, sir.
3 Mer. Let ’s jump upon him.
2 Mer. Can he not go?
Per. He creeps, sir.
1 Mer. Let ’s see him creep.
Per. No, good sir, you will hurt him. 69
2 Mer. Heart, I will see him creep, or prick his guts.
3 Mer. Come out here!
Per. Pray you, sir, creep a little.
1 Mer. Forth.
2 Mer. Yet further.
Per. Good sir!—Creep.
2 Mer. We ’ll see his legs.
They pull off the shell and discover him.
3 Mer. Gods so, he has garters!
1 Mer. Ay, and gloves!
2 Mer. Is this Your fearful tortoise?
Per. [discovering himself.] Now, Sir Pol, we ’re even; For your next project I shall be prepar’d: 75 I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir.
1 Mer. ’T were a rare motion[1726] to be seen in Fleet-street.
2 Mer. Ay, in the Term.
1 Mer. Or Smithfield, in the fair.
3 Mer. Methinks ’t is but a melancholic sight.
Per. Farewell, most politic tortoise! [Exeunt PER. and Merchants.]
[Re-enter Waiting-woman.]
Sir P. Where ’s my lady? 80 Knows she of this?
Wom. I know not, sir.
Sir P. Enquire.— O, I shall be the fable of all feasts, The freight of the gazetti,[1727] ship-boys’ tale; And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries.
Wom. My lady ’s come most melancholic home, 85 And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic.
Sir P. And I, to shun this place and clime for ever. Creeping with house on back, and think it well To shrink my poor head in my politic shell. [Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene V — [1728]
[Enter] MOSCA in the habit of a clarissimo, and VOLPONE in that of a commandadore.
Volp. Am I then like him?
Mos. O, sir, you are he; No man can sever you.
Volp. Good.
Mos. But what am I?
Volp. ’Fore heaven, a brave clarissimo; thou becom’st it! Pity thou wert not born one.
Mos. [Aside.] If I hold My made one, ’t will be well.
Volp. I ’ll go and see 5 What news first at the court. [Exit.]
Mos. Do so. My Fox Is out of his hole, and ere he shall re-enter, I ’ll make him languish in his borrow’d case,[1729] Except he come to composition with me.— Androgyno, Castrone, Nano!
[Enter ANDROGYNO, CASTRONE, and NANO.]
All. Here. 10
Mos. Go, recreate yourselves abroad; go, sport.— [Exeunt.] So, now I have the keys, and am possest. Since he will needs be dead afore his time, I ’ll bury him, or gain by ’m: I’m his heir, And so will keep me, till he share at least. 15 To cozen him of all, were but a cheat Well plac’d; no man would construe it a sin: Let his sport pay for ’t. This is call’d the Fox-trap. [Exit.]
Act V, Scene VI — [1730]
[Enter] CORBACCIO, CORVINO.
Corb. They say the court is set.
Corv. We must maintain Our first tale good, for both our reputations.
Corb. Why, mine ’s no tale. my son would there have kill’d me.
Corv. That ’s true, I had forgot:—mine is, I ’m sure. But for your will, sir.
Corb. Ay, I ’ll come upon him 5 For that hereafter, now his patron ’s dead.
[Enter VOLPONE.]
Volp. Signior Corvino! and Corbaccio! sir, Much joy unto you.
Corv. Of what?
Volp. The sudden good Dropt down upon you——
Corb. Where?
Volp. And none knows how, From old Volpone, sir.
Corb. Out, arrant knave! 10
Volp. Let not your too much wealth, sir, make you furious.
Corb. Away, thou varlet.
Volp. Why, sir?
Corb. Dost thou mock me?
Volp. You mock the world, sir; did you not change wills?
Corb. Out, harlot!
Volp. O! belike you are the man, Signior Corvino? Faith, you carry it well; 15 You grow not mad withal; I love your spirit: You are not over-leaven’d with your fortune. You should ha’ some would swell now, like a wine-fat, With such an autumn.—Did he gi’ you all, sir?
Corb. Avoid, you rascal!
Volp. Troth, your wife has shown 20 Herself a very woman; but you are well, You need not care, you have a good estate, To bear it out, sir, better by this chance: Except Corbaccio have a share.
Corb. Hence, varlet.
Volp. You will not be acknown, sir; why, ’t is wise. 25 Thus do all gamesters, at all games, dissemble: No man will seem to win. [Exeunt CORVINO and CORBACCIO.] Here comes my vulture, Heaving his beak up i’ the air, and snuffing.
Act V, Scene VII — [1731]
VOLPONE. [Enter] VOLTORE.
Volt. Outstript thus, by a parasite! a slave, Would run on errands, and make legs for crumbs! Well, what I’ll do——
Volp. The court stays for your worship. I e’en rejoice, sir, at your worship’s happiness, And that it fell into so learned hands, 5 That understand the fing’ring——
Volt. What do you mean?
Volp. I mean to be a suitor to your worship, For the small tenement, out of reparations,[1732] That, at the end of your long row of houses, By the Piscaria: it was, in Volpone’s time, 10 Your predecessor, ere he grew diseas’d, A handsome, pretty, custom’d[1733] hawdy-house As any was in Venice, none disprais’d; But fell with him: his body and that house Decay’d together.
Volt. Come, sir, leave your prating. 15
Volp. Why, if your worship give me but your hand That I may ha’ the refusal, I have done. ’T is a mere toy to you, sir; candle-rents; As your learn’d worship knows——
Volt. What do I know?
Volp. Marry, no end of your wealth, sir; God decrease it! 20
Volt. Mistaking knave! what, mock’st thou my misfortune? [Exit.]
Volt. His blessing on your heart, sir; would ’t were more!—— Now to my first again, at the next corner. [Exit.]
Act V, Scene VIII — [1734]
[Enter] CORBACCIO and CORVINO;—(MOSCA passant.)
Corb. See, in our habit![1735] see the impudent varlet!
Corv. That I could shoot mine eyes at him, like gun-stones!
[Enter VOLPONE.]
Volp. But is this true, sir, of the parasite?
Corb. Again, t’ afflict us! monster!
Volp. In good faith, sir, I’m heartily griev’d, a beard of your grave length 5 Should be so over-reach’d. I never brook’d That parasite’s hair; methought his nose should cozen:[1736] There still was somewhat in his look, did promise The bane of a clarissimo.
Corb. Knave——
Volp. Methinks Yet you, that are so traded i’ the world, 10 A witty merchant, the fine bird, Corvino, That have such moral emblems on your name, Should not have sung your shame, and dropt your cheese, To let the Fox laugh at your emptiness.
Corv. Sirrah, you think the privilege of the place, 15 And your red saucy cap, that seems to me Nail’d to your jolt-head with those two chequins, Can warrant your abuses; come you hither: You shall perceive, sir, I dare beat you; approach.
Volp. No haste, sir, I do know your valour well, 20 Since you durst publish what you are, sir.
Corv. Tarry, I’d speak with you.
Volp. Sir, sir, another time——
Corv. Nay, now.
Volp. O lord, sir! I were a wise man, Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. MOSCA walks by them.
Corb. What, come again!
Volp. Upon ’em, Mosca; save me. 25
Corb. The air’s infected where he breathes.
Corv. Let’s fly him. [Exeunt CORV. and CORB.]
Volp. Excellent basilisk! turn upon the vulture.
Act V, Scene IX — [1737]
MOSCA, VOLPONE. [Enter] VOLTORE.
Volt. Well, flesh-fly, it is summer with you now; Your winter will come on.
Mos. Good advocate, Prithee not rail, nor threaten out of place thus; Thou’lt make a solecism, as madam says. Get you a biggin[1738] more; your brain breaks loose. [Exit.] 5
Volt. Well sir.
Volp. Would you ha’ me beat the insolent slave, Throw dirt upon his first good clothes?
Volt. This same Is doubtless some familiar.
Volp. Sir, the court, In troth, stays for you. I am mad, a mule That never read Justinian, should get up, 10 And ride an advocate. Had you no quirk To avoid gullage, sir, by such a creature? I hope you do but jest; he has not done’t: This’s but confederacy to blind the rest. You are the heir?
Volt. A strange, officious, 15 Troublesome knave! thou dost torment me.
Volp. I know—— It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozen’d; ’T is not within the wit of man to do it; You are so wise, so prudent; and ’t is fit 19 That wealth and wisdom still should go together. [Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene X — [1739]
[Enter] 4 Avocatori, Notario, BONARIO, CELIA, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, Commandadori, [Saffi, etc.]
1 Avoc. Are all the parties here?
Not. All but th’ advocate.
2 Avoc. And here he comes.
[Enter VOLTORE and VOLPONE.]
1 Avoc. Then bring them forth to sentence.
Volt. O, my most honour’d fathers, let your mercy Once win upon your justice, to forgive— I am distracted——
Volp. (Aside.) What will he do now?
Volt. O, 5 I know not which t’ address myself to first; Whether your fatherhoods, or these innocents—
Corv. (Aside.) Will he betray himself?
Volt. Whom equally I have abus’d, out of most covetous ends——
Corv. The man is mad!
Corb. What’s that?
Corv. He is possest. 10
Volt. For which, now struck in conscience, here I prostrate Myself at your offended feet, for pardon.
1, 2 Avoc. Arise.
Cel. O heaven, how just thou art!
Volp. I’m caught I’ mine own noose——
Corv. [to CORBACCIO.] Be constant, sir; nought now 14 Can help but impudence.
1 Avoc. Speak forward.
Com. Silence!
Volt. It is not passion in me, reverend fathers, But only conscience, conscience, my good sires, That makes me now tell truth. That parasite, That knave, hath been the instrument of all. 19
1 Avoc. Where is that knave? Fetch him.
Volp. I go. [Exit.]
Corv. Grave fathers, This man’s distracted; he confest it now: For, hoping to be old Volpone’s heir, Who now is dead——
3 Avoc. How!
2 Avoc. Is Volpone dead?
Corv. Dead since, grave fathers.
Bon. O sure vengeance!
1 Avoc. Stay, Then he was no deceiver?
Volt. O no, none: 25 This parasite, grave fathers.
Corv. He does speak Out of mere envy, ’cause the servant’s made The thing he gap’d for. Please your fatherhoods, This is the truth, though I’ll not justify The other, but he may be some-deal faulty. 30
Volt. Ay, to your hopes, as well as mine, Corvino: But I’ll use modesty.[1740] Pleaseth your wisdoms, To view these certain notes, and but confer[1741] them; And as I hope favour, they shall speak clear truth. 34
Corv. The devil has ent’red him!
Bon. Or bides in you.
4 Avoc. We have done ill, by a public officer To send for him, if he be heir.
2 Avoc. For whom?
4 Avoc. Him that they call the parasite.
3 Avoc. ’T is true, He is a man of great estate, now left.
4 Avoc. Go you, and learn his name, and say the court 40 Entreats his presence here, but to the clearing Of some few doubts. [Exit Notary.]
2 Avoc. This same’s a labyrinth!
1 Avoc. Stand you unto your first report?
Corv. My state, My life, my fame——
Bon. Where is ’t?
Corv. Are at the stake.
1 Avoc. Is yours so too?
Corb. The advocate’s a knave, 45 And has a forked tongue——
2 Avoc. Speak to the point.
Corb. So is the parasite too.
1 Avoc. This is confusion.
Volt. I do beseech your fatherhoods, read but those— [Giving them papers.]
Corv. And credit nothing the false spirit hath writ: It cannot be but he’s possest, grave fathers. 50 [The scene closes.]
Act V, Scene XI — [1742]
[Enter] VOLPONE.
Volp. To make a snare for mine own neck! and run My head into it, wilfully! with laughter! When I had newly scap’d, was free and clear, Out of mere wantonness! O, the dull devil Was in this brain of mine when I devis’d it, 5 And Mosca gave it second; he must now Help to sear up this vein, or we bleed dead. [Enter NANO, ANDROGYNO, and CASTRONE.] How now! Who let you loose? Whither go you now? What, to buy gingerbread, or to drown kitlings?
Nan. Sir, Master Mosca call’d us out of doors, And bid us all go play, and took the keys. 11
And. Yes.
Volp. Did Master Mosca take the keys? Why, so? I’m farther in. These are my fine conceits! I must be merry, with a mischief to me! 14 What a vile wretch was I, that could not bear My fortune soberly? I must ha’ my crochets, And my conundrums! Well, go you, and seek him: His meaning may be truer than my fear. Bid him, he straight come to me to the court; Thither will I, and, if’t be possible, 20 Unscrew my advocate, upon new hopes: When I provok’d him, then I lost myself. [Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene XII — [1743]
Avocatori, [BONARIO, CELIA, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, Commandadori, Saffi,] etc., [as before.]
1 Avoc. These things can ne’er be reconcil’d. He here [showing the papers] Professeth that the gentleman was wrong’d, And that the gentlewoman was brought thither, Forc’d by her husband, and there left.
Volt. Most true.
Cel. How ready is heaven to those that pray!
1 Avoc. But that 5 Volpone would have ravish’d her, he holds Utterly false, knowing his impotence.
Corv. Grave fathers, he’s possest; again, I say, Possest: nay, if there be possession, and Obsession, he has both.
3 Avoc. Here comes our officer. 10
[Enter VOLPONE.]
Volp. The parasite will straight be here, grave fathers.
4 Avoc. You might invent some other name, sir varlet.
3 Avoc. Did not the notary meet him?
Volp. Not that I know.
4 Avoc. His coming will clear all.
2 Avoc. Yet it is misty.
Volt. May’t please your fatherhoods——
Volp. (whispers VOLT.) Sir, the parasite 15 Will’d me to tell you that his master lives; That you are still the man; your hopes the same; And this was only a jest——
Volt. How?
Volp. Sir, to try If you were firm, and how you stood affected.
Volt. Art sure he lives?
Volp. Do I live, sir?
Volt. O me! I was too violent.
Volp. Sir, you may redeem it. 21 They said you were possest; fall down, and seem so: I’ll help to make it good. (VOLTORE falls.) God bless the man!—— Stop your wind hard, and swell—See, see, see, see! He vomits crooked pins! His eyes are set, 25 Like a dead hare’s hung in a poulter’s shop! His mouth’s running away! Do you see, signior? Now it is in his belly.
Corv. Ay, the devil!
Volp. Now in his throat.
Corv. Ay, I perceive it plain.
Volp. ’T will out, ’t will out! stand clear. See where it flies, 30 In shape of a blue toad, with a bat’s wings! Do you not see it, sir?
Corb. What? I think I do.
Corv. ’T is too manifest.
Volp. Look! he comes t’ himself!
Volt. Where am I?
Volp. Take good heart, the worst is past, sir. You’re dispossest.
1 Avoc. What accident is this! 35
2 Avoc. Sudden and full of wonder!
3 Avoc. If he were Possest, as it appears, all this is nothing.
Corv. He has been often subject to these fits.
1 Avoc. Show him that writing:—do you know it, sir?
Volp. (whispers VOLT.) Deny it, sir, forswear it: know it not. 40
Volt. Yes, I do know it well, it is my hand; But all that it contains is false.
Bon. O practice![1744]
2 Avoc. What maze is this!
1 Avoc. Is he not guilty then, Whom you there name the parsite?
Volt. Grave fathers, No more than his good patron, old Volpone. 45
4 Avoc. Why, he is dead.
Volt. O no, my honour’d fathers, He lives——
1 Avoc. How! lives?
Volt. Lives.
2 Avoc. This is subtler yet!
3 Avoc. You said he was dead.
Volt. Never.
3 Avoc. You said so.
Corv. I heard so.
4 Avoc. Here comes the gentleman; make him way.
[Enter MOSCA.]
3 Avoc. A stool.
4 Avoc. [Aside.] A proper man; and were Volpone dead, 50 A fit match for my daughter.
3 Avoc. Give him way.
Volp. [Aside to MOS.] Mosca, I was a’most lost; the advocate Had betray’d all; but now it is recover’d; All’s on the hinge again——Say I am living.
Mos. What busy knave is this!—Most reverend fathers, 55 I sooner had attended your grave pleasures, But that my order for the funeral Of my dear patron did require me——
Volp. [Aside.] Mosca!
Mos. Whom I intend to bury like a gentleman.
Volp. [Aside.] Ay, quick, and cozen me of all.
2 Avoc. Still stranger! 60 More intricate!
1 Avoc. And come about again!
4 Avoc. [Aside.] It is a match, my daughter is bestow’d.
Mos. [Aside to VOLP.] Will you gi’ me half?
Volp. First I’ll be hang’d.
Mos. I know Your voice is good, cry not so loud.
1 Avoc. Demand The advocate.—Sir, did you not affirm 65 Volpone was alive?
Volp. Yes, and he is; This gent’man told me so.—[Aside to MOS.] Thou shalt have half.
Mos. Whose drunkard is this same? Speak, some that know him: I never saw his face.—[Aside to VOLP.] I cannot now Afford it you so cheap.
Volp. No!
1 Avoc. What say you? 70
Volt. The officer told me.
Volp. I did, grave fathers, And will maintain he lives, with mine own life, And that this creature [points to MOS.] told me. [Aside.]—I was born With all good stars my enemies.
Mos. Most grave fathers, If such an insolence as this must pass 75 Upon me, I am silent: ’t was not this For which you sent, I hope.
2 Avoc. Take him away.
Volp. Mosca!
3 Avoc. Let him be whipt.
Volp. Wilt thou betray me? Cozen me?
3 Avoc. And taught to bear himself Toward a person of his rank.
4 Avoc. Away. 80 [The Officers seize VOLPONE.]
Mos. I humbly thank your fatherhoods.
Volp. Soft, soft: [Aside.] Whipt! And lose all that I have! If I confess, It cannot be much more.
4 Avoc. Sir, are you married?
Volp. They’ll be alli’d anon; I must be resolute; 84 The Fox shall here uncase. Puts off his disguise.
Mos. Patron!
Volp. Nay, now My ruin shall not come alone; your match I’ll hinder sure: my substance shall not glue you, Nor screw you into a family.
Mos. Why, patron!
Volp. I am Volpone, and this is my knave; [Pointing to MOSCA.] This [to VOLT.], his own knave; this [to CORB.], avarice’s fool; 90 This [to CORV.], a chimera of wittol, fool, and knave: And, reverend fathers, since we all can hope Nought but a sentence, let’s not now despair it. You hear me brief.
Corv. May it please your fatherhoods——
Com. Silence. 94
1 Avoc. The knot is now undone by miracle.
2 Avoc. Nothing can be more clear.
3 Avoc. Or can more prove These innocent.
1 Avoc. Give ’em their liberty.
Bon. Heaven could not long let such gross crimes be hid.
2 Avoc. If this be held the highway to get riches, 99 May I be poor!
3 Avoc. This’s not the gain, but torment.
1 Avoc. These possess wealth, as sick men possess fevers, Which trulier may be said to possess them.
2 Avoc. Disrobe that parasite.
Corv. Mos. Most honour’d fathers——
1 Avoc. Can you plead aught to stay the course of justice? 104 If you can, speak.
Corv. Volt. We beg favour.
Cel. And mercy.
1 Avoc. You hurt your innocence, suing for the guilty. Stand forth; and first the parasite. You appear T’ have been the chiefest minister, if not plotter, In all these lewd impostures, and now, lastly, Have with your impudence abus’d[1745] the court, And habit of a gentleman of Venice, 111 Being a fellow of no birth or blood: For which our sentence is, first, thou be whipt; Then live perpetual prisoner in our galleys. 114
Volp. I thank you for him.
Mos. Bane to thy-wolfish nature!
1 Avoc. Deliver him to the saffi.[1746] [MOSCA is carried out.] Thou, Volpone, By blood and rank a gentleman, canst not fall Under like censure; but our judgment on thee Is, that thy substance all be straight confiscate To the hospital of the Incurabili: 120 And since the most was gotten by imposture, By feigning lame, gout, palsy, and such diseases, Thou art to lie in prison, cramp’d with irons, Till thou be’st sick and lame indeed. Remove him. [He is taken from the Bar.]
Volp. This is called mortifying of a Fox. 125
1 Avoc. Thou, Voltore, to take away the scandal Thou hast giv’n all worthy men of thy profession, Art banish’d from their fellowship, and our state. Corbaccio!—bring him near. We here possess Thy son of all thy state, and confine thee 130 To the monastery of San Spirito; Where, since thou knew’st not how to live well here, Thou shalt be learn’d to die well.
Corb. Ha! what said he?
Com. You shall know anon, sir.
1 Avoc. Thou, Corvino, shalt Be straight embark’d from thine own house, and row’d 135 Round about Venice, through the Grand Canal, Wearing a cap, with fair long ass’s ears, Instead of horns! and so to mount, a paper Pinn’d on thy breast, to the Berlina.[1747]
Corv. Yes, 139 And have mine eyes beat out with stinking fish, Bruis’d fruit, and rotten eggs—’t is well. I ’m glad I shall not see my shame yet.
1 Avoc. And to expiate Thy wrongs done to thy wife, thou art to send her Home to her father, with her dowry trebled: And these are all your judgments.
All. Honour’d fathers—— 145
1 Avoc. Which may not be revok’d. Now you begin, When crimes are done and past, and to be punish’d, To think what your crimes are. Away with them! Let all that see these vices thus rewarded, Take heart, and love to study ’em. Mischiefs feed 150 Like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed. [Exeunt.]
VOLPONE [comes forward].
“The seasoning of a play is the applause. Now, though the Fox be punish’d by the laws, He yet doth hope, there is no suff’ring due, 155 For any fact[1748] which he hath done ’gainst you; If there be, censure him; here he doubtful stands: If not, fare jovially, and clap your hands.” [Exit.]
THE ALCHEMIST
BY BEN JONSON
The Persons of the Play
SUBTLE, the ALCHEMIST. FACE, the House-keeper. DOL COMMON, their colleague. DAPPER, a [Lawyer’s] clerk. DRUGGER, a Tobacco-man. LOVEWIT, Master of the House. [Sir] EPICURE MAMMON, a Knight. [PERTINAX] SURLY, a Gamester. TRIBULATION [WHOLESOME], a Pastor of Amsterdam. ANANIAS, a Deacon there. KASTRILL, the angry boy. DAME PLIANT, his sister, a Widow. Neighbours. Officers, Mutes.
SCENE.—London.
[TO THE READER[1749]
If thou beest more, thou art an understander, and then I trust thee. If thou art one that tak’st up, and but a pretender, beware at what hands thou receiv’st thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in the way to be coz’ned than in this age in poetry, especially in plays, wherein now the concupiscence of jigs and dances[1750] so reigneth, as to run away from nature and be afraid of her is the only point of art that tickles the spectators. But how out of purpose and place do I name art, when the professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own naturals,[1751] as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms when they understand not the things, think to get off wittily with their ignorance! Nay, they are esteem’d the more learned and sufficient for this by the multitude,[1752] through their excellent vice[1753] of judgment. For they commend writers as they do fencers or wrastlers; who, if they come in robustiously and put for it with a great deal of violence, are receiv’d for the braver fellows; when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil.[1754] I deny not but that these men who always seek to do more than enough may some time happen on some thing that is good and great; but very seldom: and when it comes, it doth not recompence the rest of their ill. It sticks out, perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid and vile about it; as lights are more discern’d in a thick darkness than a faint shadow. I speak not this out of a hope to do good on any man against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, the worse would find more suffrages, because the most favour common errors. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great difference between those that (to gain the opinion of copie[1755]) utter[1756] all they can, however unfitly, and those that use election and a mean. For it is only the disease of the unskillful to think rude things greater than polish’d, or scatter’d more numerous than compos’d.]
ARGUMENT
T he sickness hot,[1757] a master quit, for fear, H is house in town, and left one servant there. E ase him corrupted, and gave means to know A Cheater and his punk;[1758] who now brought low, L eaving their narrow practice, were become C oz’ners[1759] at large; and only wanting some H ouse to set up, and with him they here contract, E ach for a share, and all begin to set. M uch company they draw, and much abuse,[1760] I n casting figures,[1761] telling fortunes, news, S elling of flies,[1762] flat bawdry, with the stone,[1763] T ill it, and they, and all in fume[1764] are gone.
Prologue
Fortune, that favours fools, these two short hours We wish away, both for your sakes and ours, Judging spectators; and desire in place, To th’ author justice, to ourselves but grace. Our scene is London, ’cause we would make known, 5 No country’s mirth is better than our own. No clime breeds better matter for your whore, Bawd, squire, impostor, many persons more, Whose manners, now call’d humours, feed the stage; And which have still been subject for the rage 10 Or spleen of comic writers. Though this pen Did never aim to grieve, but better men; Howe’er the age he lives in doth endure The vices that she breeds, above their cure. But when the wholesome remedies are sweet, 15 And, in their working gain and profit meet, He hopes to find no spirit so much diseas’d, But will with such fair correctives be pleas’d. For here he doth not fear who can apply. If there be any that will sit so nigh 20 Unto the stream, to look what it doth run, They shall find things, they ’d think, or wish, were done; They are so natural follies, but so shown, As even the doers may see, and yet not own.