Volp. Shall we have a jigg now? Strait give out, about the streets, you two, Mos. What do you mean, sir? I shall have instantly my vulture, crow, Mos. And then to have it ravish'd from their mouths? Volp. 'Tis true, I will ha' thee put on a gown, And take upon thee as thou wert mine heir; Shew 'em a will; open that chest, and reach Forth one of those that has the blanks. I'll strait Put in thy name. Mos. It will be rare, sir. Volp. And thou use them scurvily. Dispatch, Get on thy gown. Alos. 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. Get thee a cap, a count-book, pen and ink, O, 'twill afford me a real meal of laughter. it. Mos. Your advocate will turn stark dull upon Volp. It will take off his oratory's edge. Mos. But your Clarissimo, old round-back, he Will crump you, like a hog-louse, with the touch. Folp. And what Corvino? Mos. O, sir, look for him, To-morrow morning, with a rope and a dagger, And kiss me 'fore the fathers; when my face Mos. And sweat, sir. Why, your gold Volt. Where's the will? let me read that the while. Enter CORBACCIO. Corb. So, set me down: and get you home. Corb. Dost thou not hear? Enter CORVINO. Corv. Ha! is the hour come, Mosca ? Corv. What does the advocate here? [VOLP. peeps from behind a traverse. Or this Corbaccio? Corb. What do these here? Corv. But, Mosca Mos. Two cabinets Corv. Is this in earnest ? Mos. One of ebony Corv. Or do you but delude me Mos. The other, mother of pearl-I am very busy. Good faith, it is a fortune thrown upon meItem, one salt of agate- -not my seeking. Lady. Do you hear, sir? Mos. A perfum❜d box-prithee forbear, You see I am troubled-made of an onyxLady. How! Mos. To-morrow, or next day, I shall be at leisure To talk with you all. Corv. Is this my large hopes issue? Lady. Sir, I must have a fairer answer. Marry, and shall: 'Pray you, fairly, quit my house. Nay, raise no tempest with your looks; but, hark you: Remember what your ladyship offered me, For fear I tell some riddles: Go, be melancholic. [Exit. Volp. O, my fine devil! Cort. 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? Hear you, do not you know, I know you an ass? And that you would most fain have been a wit toll, If fortune would have let you? that you are [Erit. | Volt. Certain he doth delude all these for me. Corb. Mosca, the heir? Volp. O, his four eyes have found it! Corb. I'm cozen'd, cheated, by a parasite slave; Harlot, thou'st 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, ave, any time this three years, snuft about, With your most grov'ling nose; and would have hir'd Me to the pois'ning of my patron, sir! Volt. Now, my faithful Mosca, Mos. Sir? Volt. Sincere. Mos. A table of porphyry I mar❜le, you'll be thus troublesome. What? who did send for you? O, cry you mercy, But half the like, for all my fortune, sir. Not to be covetous of what is mine. sir. Volp. Bid him eat lettuce well: My witty mischief, Let me embrace thee! O, that I could now 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. 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. The gentleman you met at th' port, to-day, Per. For which warrants are sign'd by this To apprehend you, and to search your study Pol. Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Per. All the better, sir. Pol. And some essays. What shall I do? Convey yourself into a sugar chest, Or, if you would lie round, a frail were rare: Pol. Sir, I but talk'd so, [They knock without. Pol. I am a wretch, a wretch! Ha' ye ne'er a curran-butt to leap into? Pol. Sir, I have an engine 3 Mer. Sir Politic Would-be ? 2 Mer. Where is he? 1 Mer. Let's see him creep. Per. No, good sir, you will hurt him. And so will keep me, 'till he share at least. To cozen him of all, were but a cheat 2 Mer. 'Heart, I'll see him creep; or prick Well plac'd; no man would construe it a sin: his guts. 3 Mer. Come out, here. Per. 'Pray you, sir, creep a little. 1 Mer. Forth. 2 Mer. Yet farther. Per. Good sir, creep. 2 Mer. We'll see his legs. Let his sport pay for't, this is call'd the fox-trap. SCENE VI. CORBACCIO, CORVINO, and VOLPONE. Corb. They say the court is set. Corv. We must maintain [They pull off the shell, and discover him. Our first tale good, for both our reputations. 3 Mer. Gad's so, he has garters! 1 Mer. Ay, and gloves! 2 Mer. Is this your fearful tortoise? Per. Now, Sir Politic, we are even; For your next project, I shall be prepar❜d: 1 Mer. 'Twere a rare motion, to be seen in 2 Mer. Ay, i'the term. 1 Mer. Or Smithfield, in the fair. 3 Mer. Methinks 'tis but a melancholic sight! Per. Farewell, most politic tortoise. Pol. Where's my lady? Knows she of this? Wom. I know not, sir. O, I shall be the fable of all feasts; Wom. My lady's come most melancholic home, And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic. Pol. And I, to shun this place and clime for Corb. Why? mine's no tale: my son would there have kill'd me. Corv. That's true, I had forgot: mine is, I am 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; 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? Corv. Avoid, you rascal. Volp. 'Troth, your wife has shewn 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. That understand the fingeringVolt. What do you mean? Volp. 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, e'er he grew diseased, A handsome, pretty, custom❜d bawdy-house, As any was in Venice (none dispraised) But fell with him; his body and that house Decay'd together. Volt. Come, sir, leave your prating. Volp. Why, if your worship give me but your hand, That I may ha' the refusal; I have done. 'Tis 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. Volt. Mistaken knave! what, mock'st thou my misfortune? Volp. His blessing on your heart, sir; would 'twere more. (Now, to my first again) at the next corner. SCENE VIII. CORBACCIO, CORVINO, (MOSCA passant,) and VOLPONE. Corb. See, in our habit! see the impudent varlet ! Core. That I could shoot mine eyes at him, like gun-stones. Volp. But is this true, sir, of the parasite ? I'm heartily grieved, a beard of your grave length cozen: Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. [MOSCA walks by them. Corb. What! come again? Volp. Upon 'em, Mosca; save me. Volp. Excellent basilisk! turn upon the vul ture. SCENE IX. VOLTORE, MOSCA, and VOLPONE. Volt. Well, flesh-fly, it is summer with you now: Your winter will come on. Mos. Good advocate, Pr'y thee not rail, nor threaten out of place, thus; Volp. Would you ha' me beat the insolent slave? Throw dirt upon his first good clothes? Is, doubtless, some familiar! Volp. Sir, the court In troth stays for you; I am mad, a mule, Volt. A strange, officious, It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozen'd; |