Volp. Shall we have a jigg now?
Mos. What you please, sir.
Volp. Go,

Strait 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.

Mos. What do you mean, sir?
Volp. O,

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

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.
Volp. Any thing, what thou wilt. Hold, here's
my will;

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;
Sometimes peep over; see how they do look;
With what degrees their blood doth leave their
faces!

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,
To visit all the streets; he must run mad.
My lady, too, that came into the court,
To bear false witness for your worship-
Folp. Yes,

And kiss me 'fore the fathers; when my face
Flow'd all with oils.

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.
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.

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.
Mos. Madam?

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,
To put you in an heir; go to, think on't;
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;

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
A declar'd cuckold, on good terms? this pearl,
You'll say, was your's? right, this diamond?
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.
Go home, be melancholic too, or mad.
Volp. Rare Mosca! how his villany becomes
him!

[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!
Are not you he that have, to-day in court,
Profess'd the disinheriting of your son?
Perjured yourself? Go home, and die, and stink:
If you but croak a syllable, all comes out:
Away and call your porters, go, go, stink. [Erit.
Volp. Excellent varlet !

Volt. Now, my faithful Mosca,
I find thy constancy.

Mos. Sir?

Volt. Sincere.

Mos. A table of porphyry

I mar❜le, you'll be thus troublesome.
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 travels:
But, I protest, sir, it was cast upon me,
And I could, almost, wish to be without it,
But that the will o'th' dead must be observed.
Marry, my joy is, that you need it not;
You have a gift, sir, (thank your education)
Will never let you want, while there are men,
And malice, to breed causes. 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)
I will make bold with your obstreperous aid,
(Conceive me) for your fee, sir. În 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; 'twill help
To set up a young man. Good faith, you look
As you were costive; best go home and purge,
[Exit.

sir.

Volp. Bid him eat lettuce well: My witty mischief,

Let me embrace thee! O, that I could now
Transform thee to a Venus-Mosca, go
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. 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,
That told you he was newly arriv'd-
Pol. Ay, was a fugitive punk?
Per. No, sir, a spy set on you:
And he has made relation to the senate,
That you profess'd to him, to have a plot,
To sell the state of Venice to the Turk.
Pol. O me!

Per. For which warrants are sign'd by this
time,

To apprehend you, and to search your study
For papers

Pol. Alas, sir, I have none, but notes
Drawn out of play books-

Per. All the better, sir.

Pol. And some essays. What shall I do?
Per. Sir, best

Convey yourself into a sugar chest,

Or, if you would lie round, a frail were rare:
And I could send you aboard.

Pol. Sir, I but talk'd so,
For discourse sake merely.
Per. Hark, they are there.

[They knock without.

Pol. I am a wretch, a wretch!
Per. What will you do, sir?

Ha' ye ne'er a curran-butt to leap into?
They'll put you to the rack: you must be
sudden.

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

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

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:
I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir.

1 Mer. 'Twere a rare motion, to be seen in
Fleet-street!

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.
Pol. Enquire.

O, I shall be the fable of all feasts;
The freight of the Gazetti; ship-boys tale;
And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries.

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 ?
Corb. Again, t' afflict us? Monster!
Volp. In good faith, sir,

I'm heartily grieved, a beard of your grave length
Should be so over-reach'd. I never brook'd
That parasite's hair; methought his nose should

cozen:

Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. [MOSCA walks by them.

Corb. What! come again?

Volp. Upon 'em, Mosca; save me.
Corb. The air's infected where he breathes.
Coro. Let's fly him.

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;
Thou'lt make a solecism (as madam says.)
Get you a biggen more: your brain breaks loose.
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,
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,
Troublesome knave! thou dost torment me.
Volp. I know

It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozen'd;
'Tis not within the wit of man to do it:
You are so wise, so prudent, and, 'tis fit,
That wealth and wisdom still should go together.