VOLPONE

What say you? I thank him. He is welcome. Pray him, to come more often. MOSCA. Bring him near, where is he? I long to feel his hand. I thank you, signior VOLTORE. Where is the plate? mine eyes are bade. You are too munificent. You give, sir, what you can. I thank you. Your love Hath taste in this, and shall not be unanswered. I pray you see me often. Be not far from me. Harken unto me, still: It will concern you. I cannot now last long— I feel me going, (uh, uh, uh, uh.) I am sailing to my port, (uh, uh, uh, uh?) And I am glad, I am so near my haven. Excellent, MOSCA! Come hither, let me kiss thee. Set the plate away, The vulture's gone, and the old raven's come. BEtake you, to your silence, and your sleep: Stand there, and multiply. Now, shall we see A wretch, who is (indeed) more impotent, Then this can feign to be; yet Hope's to hop Over his graven. Signior CORBACCIO! You are very welcome, sir. I, his last sleep, if he would take it. Oh, I shall burst; Let out my sides, let out my sides— Oh, but thy working, and thy placing it! I cannot hold; good rascal, let me kiss thee: I never knew thee, in so rare a humour. It's true, it's true. What a rare punishment Is avarice, to it self? So many cares, so many maladies, So many fears attending on old age, Yea, death so often called on, as no wish Can be more frequent with them, their limbs faint, Their senses dull, their seeing, hearing, going, All dead before them; yea, their very teeth, Their instruments of eating, failing them: Yet this is reckoned life! Nay, here was one, Is now gone home, that wishes to live longer! Feels not his gout, nor palsy, feigns himself Younger, by scores of years, flatters his age, With confident belying it, Hope's he may With charms, Like AESON, have his youth restored: And with these thoughts so battens, as if fate Would be as easily cheated on, as he, And all turns air! Who's that, there, now? a third? Dead. Signior COR VINO. Signior COR VINO. My divine MOSCA! Thou hast to day outgone thy self. Who's there? I will be troubled with no more. Prepare Me music, dances, banquets, all delights; The Turk is not more sensual, in his pleasures, Then will VOLPONE. Let me see, a pearl? A diamant? plate? cecchines? good morning's purchase; Why, this is better then rob churches, yet: Or fat, by eating (once a mon'th) a man. Who is't? Not, now. Some three hours, hence— When I am high with mirth, and wine: then, then. Before heaven, I wonder at the desperate valour Of the bold English , that they dare let lose Their wives, to all encounters! Has she so rare a face? Why had not I known this, before? How might I see her? I must see her— I will go see her, though but at her windore. That is true. I must Maintain mine own shape, still, the same: wee'll think. Sir, to a wise man, all the world's his soil. It is not Italy , nor France , nor Europe , That must bound me, if my fates call me forth. Yet, I protest, it is no salt desire Of seeing countries, shifting a religion, Nor any disaffection to the state Where I was bred (and, unto which I owe My dearest plots) hath brought me out; much less, That idle, antique, stale, grey-headed project Of knowing men's minds, and manners, with ULYSSES: But, a peculiar humour of my wives, Laid for this height of Venice , to observe, To quote, to learn the language, and so forth— I hope you travel, sir, with license? Mount, Zany. Most noble gent: and my worthy patrons, it may seem strange, that I, your SCOTO MANTVANO, who was ever wont to fix my bank in face of the public piazza, near the shelter of the portico, to the procuratia, should, now ( after eight months absence, from this illustrous city of Venice) humbly re tire my self, into and obscure nook of the piazza. Let me tell you: I am not (as your Lombard proverb says) cold on my feet; or content to partly with my commodities at a cheaper rate, then I accusto med: look not for it. Nor, that the calumnious reports of that impudent detra ctor, and shame to our profession, (ALESSANDRO BVTTONE, I mean ) who gave out, in public, I was condemned of Sforzato to the galleys, for poyso ning the Cardinal BEMBO'S— Cook, hath at all attached, much less dejected me. No, no, worthy gent. (to tell you true) I cannot endure, to see the rabble of these ground Ciarlitani, that spread their cloaks on the pavement, as if they meant to do feats of activity, and then come in, lamely, with their mouldy tales out of BOCCACIO, Like stale TABARINE, the Fabulist: some of them discoursing their travels, and of their tedious captivity in the Turks galleys, when indeed (were the truth known) they were the Christians galleys, where very temperate lie, they eat bred, and drunk water, as a wholesome penance (enjoined them by their Confessors) for base pilferies. These turdy-facy-nasty-paty-lousy-farticall rogues, with one poor groatsworth of unprepared antimony, finely wrapped up in seuerall' scartoc Cios, are able, very well, to kill their twenty a week, and play; yet, these meager starved spirits, who have half stopped the organs of their minds with earthy oppila tions, want not their favourers among your shriveled, salad-eating artisans: who are overjoyed, that they may have their halfe-pe'rth of physic, though it purge them into another world, 'tmakes no matter. Well, let'hem go. And gentlemen, honourable gentlemen, know, that for this time, our bank, being thus removed from the clamours of the canam glia, shall be the scene of pleasure and delight: For, I have nothing to fell, little, or nothing to fell. I protest, I, and my six servants, are not able to make of this precious liquour, so fast, as it is fetched away from my lodging, by gentlemen of your city; strangers of the terra-ferma; worshipful Merchant's; I, and senators too: who, ever since my arrival, have detained me to their uses, by their splendidous liberam lities. And worthily. For, what avails your rich man to have his magazines stuffed with moscadelli, or of the purest grape, when his physicians prescribe him (on pain of death) to drink nothing but water, cocted with anise-seeds? Oh, health! health! the blessing of the rich! the riches of the poor! who can buy thee at too deer a rate, since there is no enjoying this world, without thee? Be not then so sparing of your purses, honourable gentlemen, as to abridge the natural course of life — For, when a humid flux, or catarrh, by the mutability of air, falls from your head, into and arm, or shoulder, or any other partly; take you a ducat, or your cecchine of gold, and apply to the place affected: see, what good effect it can work. No, no, it's this blessed unguento, this rare extraction, that hath only power to disperse all malignant humours, that proceed, either of hight, cold, moist, or windy causes — To fortify the most indigest, and crude stomach, I, were it of one, that (through extreme weakness) vomited blood, applying only a warm napkin to the place, after the unction, and fricace; for the vertigine, in the head, putting but a drop into your nostrils, likewise, behind the ears; a most sovereign, and approved remedy: the mal-caduco, cramps, convulsions, paralysies, epi lepsies , tremor-cordia, retired-nerves, ill vapours of the spleen, stoppings of the liver, the stone, the strangury , hernia ventosa, iliaca passio; stops a disenteria, immediately; eases the torsion of the small guts; and cures me lancolia hypocondriaca, being taken and applied, according to my printed re ceipt. For, this is the physician, this the medicine; this counsels, this cures; this gives the direction, this works the effect: and (in sum) both together may be termed and abstract of the theoric, and practic in the Aesculapian art. It'll cost you eight crowns. And , ZAN FRITADA, pray thee sing a verse , ex tempore, in honour of it. No more. Gentlemen, if I had but time to discourse to you the miracu lous effects of this my oil, surnamed oglio deal SCOTO; with the countless catalogue of those I have cured of th'aforesaid, and many more diseases; the pat tents and privileges of all the Princes, and commonwealths of Christendom; or but the depositions of those that appeared on my partly, before the signiory of the Sanitâ, and most learned college of physicians; where I was authorized, upon notice taken of the admirable virtues of my medicaments, and mine own excel lency, in matter of rare, and unknown secrets, not only to disperse them pub liquely in this famous city, but in all the territories, that happily joy under the 1 page duplicate 1 page duplicate government of the most pious and magnificent states of Italy. But may some other gallant fellow say, Oh, there be diverse, that make profession to have as good, and as experimented receipts, as yours: Indeed, very many have assayed, Like apes in imitation of that, which is really and essentially in me, to make of this oil; bestowed great cost in furnaces, stills, alembeks, continual fires, and prepara cion of the ingredients, (as indeed there goes to it six hundred several simples, be sides, some quantity of humane fat, for the conglutination, which we buy of the anatomists) but, when these practitioners come to the last decoction, blow, blow, puff, puff, and all flies in fumo: would, would, would. Poor wretches! I rather pit tie their folly, and indiscretion, then their lose of time, and money; for those may be recovered by industry: but to be a fool born, is a disease incurable. For my self, I always from my youth have endeavoured to get the rarest secrets, and book them; either in exchange, or for money: I spared nor cost, nor labour, where any thing was worthy to be learned. And gentlemen, honourable gen tlemen, I will undertake (by virtue of chemical art) out of the honourable hat, that covers your head, to extract the four elements; that is to say, the fire, air, water, and earth, and return you your felt without burn, or stain. For, whilst others have been at the balloo, I have been at my book: and am now passed the craggy paths of study, and come to the flowery plains of honour, and re putation. But, to our price. You all know (honourable gentlemen) I never valued this ampulla, or vial, at less then eight crowns, but for this time, I am content, to be deprived of it for six; six crowns is the price; and less in courtesy, I know you cannot offer me: take it, or leave it, howsoever, both it, and I, am at your service. I ask you not, as the valve of the thing, for then I should demand of you a thousand crowns, so the Cardinals MONTALTO, FERNESE, the great duke of Tusca nigh, my gossip, with diverse other princes have given me, but I despise money: only to show my affection to you, honourable gentlemen, and your illustrous state here, I have neglected the messages of these princes, mine own offices, framed my journey hither, only to present you with the fruits of my travels. Tune your voiȝ ces once more to the touch of your instruments, and give the honourable assembly some delightful recreation. Well, I am in a humour (at this time) to make a present of the small quantity my coffer contains: to the rich, in courtesy, and to the poor, for Gods sake. Wherefore, now mark; I asked you six crowns; and six crowns, at oh there times, you have paid me; you shall not give me six crowns, nor five, nor four, nor three, nor two, nor one; nor half a ducat; no, nor a muccinigo: six—pence it will cost you, or six hundred pound—expect no lower price, for by the banner of my front, I will not bore a bagatine, that I will have, only, a pledge of your loves, to carry something from amongst you, to show, I am not contemned by you. Therefore, now, toss your handkerchiefs, cheerfully, cheerfully; and be advertised, that the first heroic spirit, that deigns to grace me, with a hand kerchief, I will give it a little remembrance of something, beside, shall please it better, then if I had presented it with a double pistolet. Lady, I kiss your bounty: and, for this timely grace, you have done your poor SCOTO of Mantua, I will return you, over and above my oil, a secret, of that high, and inestimable nature, shall make you for ever enamoured on that minute, wherein your eye first descended on so mean, (yet not altogether to be despised) and object. Here is a poulder, concealed in this paper, of which, if I should speak to the worth, nine thousand volumes were but as one page, that page as a line, that line as a word: so short is this pilgrimage of man (which some call life) to the expressing of it. Would I reflect on the price? why, the whole world were but as and empire, that empire as a province, that province as a bank, that bank as a private purse, to the purchase of it. I will, only, tell you; It is the poulder, that made VENUS a goddess ( given her by APOLLO) that kept her perpetually young, cleared her wrinkles, firmed her gums, filled her skin, coloured her hair; from her, derived to HELEN, and at the sack of Troy (unfortunate lie) lost: till now, in this our age, it was as happily recovered, by a studious Anti quarie, out of some ruins of Asia, who sent a moiety of it, to the court of France (but much sophisticated) wherewith the ladies there, now, colour their hair. The rest (at this present) remains with me; extracted, to a quintessence: so that, where ever it but touches, in youth it perpetually preserves, in age restores the complexion; seat's your teeth, did they dance Like virginal jacks, firm as a wall; makes them white, as ivory, that were black, as — Spite of the devil, and my shame! come down, here; Come down: no house but mine to make your scene? Signior FLAMINIO, will you down, sir? down? What is my wife your FRANCISCINA? sir? No windores on the whole piazza , here, To make your properties, but mine? but mine? Heart! ere to morrow, I shall be new christened, And called the PANTALONE di besogniosi , About the town. Not without; Those blows were nothing: I could bear them ever. But angry CUPID, bolting from her eyes, Hath shot himself into me, Like a flame; Where, now, he flings about his burning heat, As in a furnace, and ambitious fire, Whose vent is stopped. The fight is all within me. I cannot live, except thou help me, MOSCA; My liver melts, and I, without the hope Of some soft air, from her refreshing breath, Am but a heap of cinders. Nay, would thou Hadst never told me of her. Dear MOSCA, shall I hope? Oh, there spoke My better Angel. MOSCA, take my keys, Gold, plate, and jewels, all's at thy devotion; Employ them, how thou wilt; nay, coin me, too: So thou, in this, but crown my longings. MOSCA? So I have. Nay, then, I not repent me of my late disguise. True: Beside, I never meant him for my heir. Is not the colour of my beard, and eyebrows, To make me known? I did it well. But, were they gulled With a belief, that I was SCOTO? Who's there? my couch, away, look, NANO, see: Give me my caps, first—go, inquire. Now, CUPID Send it be MOSCA, and with fair return. WOULD-BE—is it? Now, torment on me; squire her in: For she will enter, or dwell here for ever. Nay, quickly, that my fit were passed. 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! 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 dressed Most favourably, to day, it is no matter, It's well enough. Look, see, these petulant things! How they have done this! I do feel the fever Entering, in at mine ears; O, for a charm, To fright it hence. The storm comes towards me. Troubled with noise, I cannot sleep; I dreamed That a strange fury entered, now, my house, And, with the dreadful tempest of her breath, Did cleave my roof asunder. Out on my fate; I have given her the occasion How to torment me: she will tell me hers. Oh, if you do love me, No more; I sweat, and suffer, at the mention Of any dream: feel, how I tremble yet. Ay me, I have taken a grasshopper by the wing. You will not drink, and partly? She's in again, Before I feigned diseases, now I have one. Another flood of words! a very torrent! No, no, no; I'am very well: you needs prescribe no more. The Poet, As old in time, as PLATO, and as knowing, Say's that your highest female grace is silence. Is every thing a cause, to my destruction? The sun, the sea will sooner, both, stand still, Then her eternal tongue! nothing can escape it. Profess obstinate silence, That's, now, my safest. Alas, my mind's perturbed. O'y me. Now, the spirit Of patience help me. My good angel save me. O, o, o, o, o, o. Some power, some fate, some fortune rescue me. God save you, Madam. MOSCA? welcome, Welcome to my redemption. O, Rid me of this my torture, quickly, there; My Madam, with the everlasting voice: The Bells', in time of pestilence, never made Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion; The cockpit comes not near it. All my house, But now, steamed Like a both, with her thick breath. A lawyer could not have been herd; nor scarce Another woman, such a hail of words She has let fallen. For hells sake, rid her hence. Oh, I do not care, I'll take her absence, upon any price, With any lose. MOSCA, hearty thanks, For thy quick fiction, and delivery of me. Now, to my Hope's, what sayest thou? Again; I fear a paroxysm. My blood, My spirits are returned; I am alive: And Like your wanton gam'ster, at primero , Whose thought had whispered to him, not go less, Methinks I lie, and draw—for and encounter. Sir, here concealed, you may hear all. But pray you Have patience, sir; the same's your father, knocks: I am compelled, to leave you. Thou art mine honour, MOSCA, and my pride; My joy, my tickling, my delight! go, bring them. O. Alas, I am passed already! pray you, thank him, For his good care, and promptness, but for that, It's a vain labour, eene to fight, against heaven; Applying fire to a stone: (uh, uh, uh, uh.) Making a dead leaf grow again. I take His wishes gently, though; and, you may tell him, What In have done for him: marry; my state is hopeless! Will him, to pray for me; and use his fortune, With reverence, when he comes to't. I, in CORVINO, and such earth-fed minds, That never tasted the true heaven of love. Assure thee, CELIA, he that would fell thee, Only for hope of gain, and that uncertain, He would have sold his partly of paradise For ready money, had he met a copeman. Why art thou mazed, to see me thus revived? Rather applaud thy beauty's miracle; It's thy great work: that hath, not now alone, But sundry times, 'rays'd me, in several shapes, And, but this morning, Like a mountebanke, To see thee at thy windore. I, before I would have left my practice, for thy love, In varying figures, I would have contended With the blue PROTEUS, or the horned Flood. Now, art thou welcome. Nay, fly me not. Nor, let thy false imagination That I was bedrid, make thee think, I am so: Thou shalt not find it. I am, now, as fresh, As hight, as high, and in as jovial plighted, As when (in that so celebrated scene , At recitation of our comedy , 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. Why droops my CELIA? Thou hast in place of a base husband, found 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 possessed, and crowned. See, here, a rope of pearl; and each, more orient Then that the brave Egyptian queen caroused: Dissolve, and drink them. See, a carbuncle, May put out both the eyes of our S to . MARK; A diamant, would have bought LOLLIA PAULINA, When she came in, Like starlight hid with jewels, That were the spoils of provinces; take these, And wear, and lose them: yet remains and 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. The heads of parrats, 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. It's the beggars virtue, If thou hast wisdom, hear me, CELIA. Thy baths shall be the juice of july-flowers, Spirit of roses, and of violets, The milk of unicorns, and panthers breath Gathered in bags, and mixed with Cretan wines. Our drink shall be prepared gold, and amber; Which we will take, until my roof whirl round With the vertigo: and my dwarf shall dance, My eunuch sing, my fool make up the antique. 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. Then will I have thee in more modern forms, Attired Like some sprightly dame of France , Brave Tuscan lady, or proud Spanish beauty; Sometime, unto the Persian Sophies wife; Or the grand- Signiors mistress; and, for change, To one of our most artful courtesans, Or some quick Negro , or cold Russian ; And I will meet thee, in as many shapes: Where we may, so, transfuse our wandering souls, Out at our lips, and score up sums of pleasures, That the curious shall not know, How to tell them, as they slow; And the envious, when they find What their number is, be pined. Think me cold, Frozen, and impotent, and so report me? 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 parlee'd. Yield, or I'll force thee. In vain— Fallen on me, roof, and bury me in ruin, Become my graven, that Wertenberg my shelter. Oh! I am vn-masqu'd, unspirited, undone, Betrayed to beggary, to infamy— WHere shall I run, most wretched shame of men, To beat out my unlucky brains? Here, here. What! dost thou bleed? Woe, on thy fortune. the hast made me miserable. What shall we do? Hark, who's there? I hear some footing, officers, the Saffi , Come to apprehend us! I do feel the brand Hissing already, at my forehead: now, Mine ears are boring. Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless. I Told you, sir, it was a plot: you see What observation is. You mentioned 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, 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. Exquisite MOSCA! And stoutly. Good wits are greatest in extremities. Oh, more, then if I had enjoyed the wench: The pleasure of all womankind's not Like it. True, Thou hast played thy prize, my precious MOSCA. And, quite divert the torrent, Upon the innocent. Right. That, yet, to me's the strangest! how the hast born it! That these (being so divided amongst themselves) Should not sent somewhat, or in me, or thee, Or doubt their own side. Like a temptation of the devil. Oh (my most honoured father's, my graven father's, Under correction of your fatherhoods, What face of truth is, here? If these strange deeds May pass, most honoured father's—) I had much a do To forbear laughing. In troth, I did a little. In good faith, I was A little in a missed; but not dejected: Never, but still my self. Troth, and I think so too, By that I herd him, in the latter end. It's right. I cannot answer him, MOSCA, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, I will begin, even now, to vex them all: This very instant. Call the dwarf, And eunuch, forth. Shall we have a jig, now? Go, Straight give out, about the streets, you two, That I am dead; do it with constancy, Sadly, do you hear? impute it to the grief Of this late slander. Oh, I shall have, instantly, my vulture, crow, Raven, come flying hither (on the news) To peck for carrion, my she-wolf, and all, Greedy, and full of expectation— It's true, I will have thee put on a gown, And take upon thee, as thou Wertenberg mine heir; Show them a will: open that chest, and reach Forth one of those, that has the blanks. I'll straight Put in thy name. I, When they e'enegape, and find themselves deluded— And thou use them skiruily. Dispatch, Get on thy gown. Say, it was corrupted. Any thing, what thou wilt. Hold, here's my will. Get thee a cap, a count-book, pen and ink, Papers afore thee; fit, as thou Wertenberg taking And inventory of parcels: I'll get up, Behind the cortine, on a stool, and harken; Sometime, peep over; see, how they do look; With what degrees, their blood does leave their faces! Oh, it'll afford me a rare meal of laughter. It will take off his oratories edge. And what CORVINO? Yes, And kissed me before the father's; when my face Flowed all with oils. I think, she loves me. Dost thou say so? Look. I'll to my place, Thou, to thy posture. But, MOSCA, Play the artificer now, torture them, rarely. HOw now, my MOSCA? I, now, they muster. Oh, My sine dame WOULD-BEE, too! 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, What is bequeathed them, there— I, i'their garters, MOSCA. Now, their Hope's Are at the gasp. My advocate is dumb, look to my merchant, He has herd of some strange storm, a ship is lost, He faints: my lady will swoon. Old glazen-eyes, He hath not reached his despair, yet. Oh, my fine devil! Rare, MOSCA! how his villainy becomes him! Oh, his four eyes have found it! Excellent varlet! Bid him, eat lettuce well: my witty mischief , Let me embrace thee. Oh, that I could now Transform thee to a VENUS— MOSCA, go, Straight, take my habit of Clarissimo ; And walk the streets; be seen, torment them more: We must pursue, as well as plot. Who would Have lost this feast? Oh, my recovery shall recover all. That I could now but think on some disguise, To meet them in: and ask them questions. How I would vex them still, at every turn? Canst thou? A rare disguise, and answering thy brain! Oh, I will be a sharp disease unto them. Till they burst; The Fox fares ever best, when he is cursed. AM I enough disguised? Good. Before heaven, a brave Clarissimo , thou becomest it! Pity, thou Wertenberg not born one. I'll go, and see What news, first, at the court. Signior CORVINO! and CORBACCIO! sir, Much joy unto you. The sudden good, Dropped down upon you— (And, none knows (how) From old VOLPONE, sir. Let not your too much wealth, sir, make your furious. Why sir? You mock the world, sir, did you not change wills? Oh! belike you are the man, Signior CORVINO? in-faith, you carry it well; You grow not mad withal: I love your spirit. You are not over-leavened, with your fortune. You should have some would swell, now Like a wine-fat, With such and Autumn — Did he gi'you all, sir? Troth, your wife has shew'ne Her self 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? You will not be of known, sir: why it's wise. Thus do all gam'sters, at all games, dissemble. No man will seem to win. Here, comes my vulture, Heaving his beak up in the air, and snuffing. Outstripped thus, by a parasite? a slave? Would run on errands? and make legs, for crumbs? Well, what I'll do— The court stays for you worship. I eêne rejoice, sir, at your worships happiness, And that it fell into so learned hands, That understand the fingering.— I mean to be a suitor to your worship, For the small tenement, out of reparations; That, at the end of your long row of houses, By the piscaria: it was, in VOLPONE'S time, Your predecessor, ere he grew diseased, A handsome, pretty, customed, bawdyhouse, As any was in Venice (none dispraised) But fell with him; his body, and that house Decayed, together. Why, if your worship give me but your hand, That I may have the refusal; I have done. It's a mere toy, to you, sir; candle rends: As your learned worship knows— Marry no end of your wealth, sir, God decrease it. His blessing on your heart, sir, would 'twere more. (Now, to my first, again; at the next corner.) SEe, in our habit! see the impudent varlet! But, is this true, sir, of the parasite? In good faith, sir, I'am heartily grieved, a beard of your graven length Should be so overreached. I never brooked That parasites hair, me thought his nose should cousin: There still was somewhat, in his look, did promise The bane of a Clarissimo. Me thinks, Yet you, that are so traded in the world, A witty merchant, the fine bird, CORVINO, That have such moral emblems on your name, Should not have sung you shame; and dropped your cheese: To let the FOX laugh at your emptiness. No haste, sir, I do know your valour, well: Since you durst publish what you are, sir. Sir, sir, another time — Oh God, sir! I were a wise man, Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. Upon them, MOSCA; save me, Excellent Basilisk ! turn upon the vulture. WEll, flesh-fly, it is summer with you, now; Your winter will come on. Would you have me beat the insolent slave? Throw dirt, upon his first good clothes? Sir, the court In troth, stays for you. I am mad, a mule, That never read JUSTINIAN, should get up, And ride and 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? I know— It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozened; It's not within the wit of man, to do it: You are so wise, so prudent, and, it's fit, That wealth, and wisdom still, should go together. ARe all the parties, here? Oh, I know not which t'addresse my self to, first, Whither your fatherhoods, or these innocents— I'am caught I'mine own noose— I go. Did master MOSCA take the keys? why, so! I am farther, in. These are my fine conceits! I must be merry, with a mischief to me! What a vile wretch was I, that could not bear My fortune soberly? I must have my crotchets? And my conundrums! well, go you, and seek him: His meaning may be truer, then my fear. Bid him, he straight come to me, to the court; Thither will I, and, if it be possible, Unscrew my advocate, upon new Hope's: When I provoked him, then I lost my self. These things can never be reconciled. He, here, Professes, that the gentleman was wronged; And that the gentlewoman was brought thither, Forced by her husband: and there left. The parasite will straight be, here, graven father's. Not that I know. Sir, the parasite Willed me to tell you, that his master lives; That you are still the man; your Hope's the same; And this was, only a jest— Sir, to try If you were, firm, and how you stood affected. Do I live, sir? Sir, you may redeem it, They said, you were possessed; fallen down, and seem so: I'll help to make it good. God bless the man! (Stop your wind hard, and swell) see, see, see, see! He vomits crooked pins! his eyes are set, Like a dead hares, hung in a poulters shop! His mouth's running away! do you see, signior? Now, it's in his belly. Now, in his throat. It'll out, will out; stand clear. See, where it flies! In shape of a blue toad, with a bats wings! Do not you see it, sir? Look! he comes t'himselfe! Take good heart, the worst is passed, sir. You are dispossessed. Deny it, sir, forswear it, know it not. MOSCA, I was a'most lost, the Advocate Had betrayed all; but, now, it is recovered: Al's of the hinge again—say, I am living. (MOSCA!) I, quick, and cousin me of all. First, I'll be hanged. Yes, and he is; This gent'man told me so, (thou shalt have half.) No?) I did, graven father's, And will maintain, he lives, with mine own life. And, that this creature told me. (I was born, With all good stars my enemies.) Soft, soft: whipped? And lose all that I have? if I confess, It cannot be much more. They'll be allied, anon; I must be resolute: The FOX shall, here, uncase. Nay, now, My ruins shall not come alone; your match I'll hinder sure: my substance shall not glew you, Nor screw you, into a family. I am VOLPONE, and this is my knave; This, his own knave; this, avarices fool; This, a Chimaera of wittal, fool, and knave; And, reverend father's, since we all can hope Nought, but a sentence, let's not now despair it. You hear me brief. This is called mortifying of a FOX. True, my beloved MOSCA. Yet, I glory More in the cunning purchase of my wealth, Then in the glad possession; since I gain No common way: I use no trade, no venture; I wound no earth with ploughshares; fat no beasts To feed the shambles; have no mills for iron, Oil, corn, or men, to grind them into poulder; I blow no subtle glass; expose no ships To threatenings of the furrow-faced sea; I turn no moneys, in the public bank; Nor usure private— Right, MOSCA, I do loath it. Hold thee, MOSCA, Take, of my hand; thou strikest on truth, in all: And they are envious, term thee parasite. Call forth my dwarf, my eunuch, and my fool, And let them make me sport. What should I do, But cocker up my genius , and live free To all delights, my fortune calls me to? I have no wife, no parent, child, ally, To give my substance to; but whom I make, Must be my heir: and this makes men observe me. This draws new clients, daily, to my house, Women, and men, of every sex, and age, That bring me presents, send me plate, coin, jewels, With hope, that when I die, (which they expect Each greedy minute) it shall then return, Tenfold, upon them; whilst some, covetous Above the rest, seek to engross me, whole, And counter work, the one, unto the other, Contend in gifts, as they would seem, in love: All which I suffer, playing with their Hope's, And am content to coin them into profit, And look upon their kindness, and take more, And look on that; still bearing them in hand, Letting the cherry knock against their lips, And, draw it, by their mouths, and back again. How now! Now, room, for fresh gamesters, who do will you to know, They do bring you neither play, nor University show; And therefore do entreat you, that whatsoever they rehearse, May not fare a whit the worse, for the false pace of the verse. If you wonder at this, you will wonder more, ere we pass, For know, here is enclosed the Soul of PYTHAGORAS , That juggler divine, as hereafter shall follow; Which Soul (fast, and lose, sir) came first from APOLLO , And was breathed into AETHALIDES, MERCURIUS his son, Where it had the gift to remember all that ever was done. From thence it fled forth, and made quick transmigration To goldy-locked EUPHORBUS , who was killed, in good fashion, At the siege of old Troy , by the Cuckold of Sparta. HERMOTIMUS was next (I find it, in my chartam ) To whom it did pass, where no sooner it was missing, But with one PYRRHUS , of Delos , it learned to go a fishing: And thence, did it enter the Sophist of Greece. From PYTHAGORE , she went into a beautiful piece, Hight ASPASIA , the meretrix ; and the next toss of her Was, again, of a whore, she became a Philosopher, CRATES the Cynic : (as it self does relate it) Since, Kings, Knights, and Beggars, Knaves, Lords and Fools got it, Beside, ox, and ass, camel, mule, goat, and brock, In all which it hath spoke, as in the Cobblers cock. But I come not here, to discourse of that matter, Or his one, two , or three , or his great oath, by quater , His music's , his trigon , his golden thigh, Or his telling how elements shift: but I Would ask, how of late, thou hast suffered translation, And shifted thy coat, in these days of reformation? Now very, very pretty: MOSCA, this Was thy invention? It does, good MOSCA. Who's that? away, look MOSCA. Fetch me my gown, My furs and nightcaps; say, my couch is changing: And let him entertain himself, awhile, Without in the gallery. Now, now, my clients Begin their visitation! vulture, kite, Raven, and gor-crow, all my birds of prey, That think me turning carcase, now they come: I am not for them yet. How now? the news? Of what bigness? Good! and not a fox Stretched on the earth, with fine delusive sleights, Mocking a gaping crow? would, MOSCA? Give me my furs. Why dost thou laugh so, man? Yes, to be learned, MOSCA. My caps, my caps, good MOSCA, fetch him in. That's true; Dispatch, dispatch: I long to have possession Of my new present. Thanks, kind MOSCA. Nay, that were too much, MOSCA. Loving MOSCA, It's well, my pillow now, and let him enter. Now, my feigned cough, my phthisic, and my gout, My apoplexy, palsy, and catarrhs, Help, with your forced functions, this my posture, Wherein, this three year, I have milked their Hope's. He comes, I hear him (uh, uh, uh, uh) O. YOu still are, what you were, sir. Only you (Of all the rest) are he, commands his love: And you do wisely, to preserve it, thus, With early visitation, and kind notes Of your good meaning to him, which, I know, Cannot but come most grateful. Patron, sir. Here's signior VOLTORE is come— What will he do, now?) MOSCA.) Wilt thou betray me? Cousin me?)