Whilst I was busy in an inner room—
CORV. Death! that damned mountebank; but for the law
Now, I could kill the rascal: it cannot be,
His oil should have that virtue. Have not I
Known him a common rogue, come fiddling in
To the osteria,61 with a tumbling whore,
And, when he has done all his forced tricks, been glad
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 sod62 earwigs, pounded caterpillars,
A little capon’s grease, and fasting spittle:
I know them to a dram.
MOS. I know not, sir;
But some on’t, there, they poured into his ears,
Some in his nostrils, and recovered him;
Applying but the fricace.
CORV. Pox o’ that fricace!
MOS. And since, to seem the more officious
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 of spices,
Another a flayed ape clapped to his breast,
A third would have it a dog, a fourth an oil,
With wild cats’ skins: at last, they all resolved
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;
And to this service, most unhappily,
And most unwillingly, am I now employed,
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:
Yet, if I do it not, they may delate
My slackness to my patron, work me out
Of his opinion; and there all your hopes,
Ventures, or whatsoever, are all frustrate!
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;
Prevent63 them if you can.
CORV. Death to my hopes,
This is my villainous fortune! Best to hire
Some common courtezan.
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 quean64 may cheat us all.
CORV. ’Tis true.
MOS. No, no: it must be one that has no tricks, sir,
Some simple thing, a creature made unto it;
Some wench you may command. Have you no kinswoman?
Odso—Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, sir.
One o’ the doctors offered there his daughter.
CORV. HOW!
MOS. Yes, signior Lupo, the physician.
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:
A long forgetfulness hath seized that part.
Besides sir, who shall know it? some one or two—
CORV. I pray thee give me leave. If any man
But I had had this luck—The thing in’t self,
I know, is nothing—Wherefore should not I
As well command my blood and my affections,
As this dull doctor? In the point of honor,
The cases are all one of wife and daughter.
MOS. [Aside] I hear him coming.
CORV. She shall do’t: ’tis done.
Slight! if this doctor, who is not engaged,
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 determined.
MOS. How, sir?
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 motioned to you, at the first:
And make your count, you have cut all their throats.
Why, ’tis directly taking a possession!
And in his next fit, we may let him go.
’Tis 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,
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 may’st do, truly,
Mine own free motion.
MOS. Sir, I warrant you,
I’ll so possess him with it, that the rest
Of his starved clients shall be banished all;
And only you received. 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
CORV. Where are you, wife? my Celia! wife!
Re-enter Celia
—What, blubbering?
Come, dry those tears. I think thou thought’st me in earnest;
Ha! by this light I talked so but to try thee:
Methinks the lightness of the occasion
Should have confirmed thee. Come, I am not jealous.
CEL. NO!
CORV. Faith I am not, I, nor never was;
It is a poor unprofitable humor
Do not I know, if women have a will,
They’ll do ’gainst all the watches of the world,
And that the fiercest spies are tamed with gold?
Tut, I am confident in thee, thou shalt see’t:
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 them all on, and, with them, thy best looks:
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
Enter Mosca
MOS. I fear, I shall begin to grow in love
With my dear self, and my most properous parts,
They do so spring and burgeon; I can feel
A whimsy in my blood: I know not how,
Success hath made me wanton. I could skip
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 mystery65 was not made a science,
It is so liberally professed! 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,
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,
Make their revenue66 out of legs 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;
Turn short as doth a swallow; and be here,
And there, and here, and yonder, all at once;
Present to any humor, all occasion;
And change a visor, swifter than a thought!
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.
Enter Bonario
Who’s this? Bonario, old Corbaccio’s son?
The person I was bound to seek.—Fair sir,
You are happily met.
BON. That cannot be by thee.
MOS. Why, sir?
BON. Nay, pray thee, know thy way, and leave me
I would be loath to interchange discourse
With such a mate67 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?
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 to me, and however
Your sentence may be righteous, yet you are not,
That, ere you know me, thus proceed in censure:
St. Mark bear witness ’gainst you, ’tis inhuman.
[Weeps]
BON. [Aside] What! does he weep? the sign is soft and good:
I do repent me that I was so harsh.
MOS. ’Tis true, that, swayed by strong necessity,
I am enforced to eat my careful bread
With too much obsequy;68 ’tis true, beside,
That I am fain to spin mine own poor raiment
Out of my mere observance,69 being not born
To a free fortune: but that I have done
Base offices, in rending friends asunder,
Dividing families, betraying counsels,
Whispering false lies, or mining men with praises,
Trained their credulity with perjuries,
Corrupted chastity, or am in love
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.—
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;
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; ’tis true, sir,
The work no way engageth me, but, as
I claim an interest in the general state
Of goodness and true virtue, which I hear
To abound in you: and, for which mere respect,
Without a second aim, sir, I have done it.
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,
Your piety; and formed, no doubt, it is
From your own simple innocence: which makes
Your wrong more monstrous and abhorred. But, sir,
I now will tell you more. This very minute,
It is, or will be doing; and, if you
Shall be but pleased 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 professed
The common issue of the earth.70
BON. I am amazed!
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
Weeps blood in anguish—
BON. Lead; I follow thee.
Exeunt
SCENE II
Enter Volpone
VOLP. Mosca stays long, methinks.—Bring forth your sports,
And help to make the wretched time more sweet.
Enter Nano, Androgyno, and Castrone
NAN. Dwarf, fool, and eunuch, well met here we be.
A question it were now, whether71 of us three,
Being all the known delicates of a rich man,
In pleasing him, claim the precedency can?
CAS. I claim for myself.
AND. And so doth the fool.
NAN. ’Tis foolish indeed: let me set you both to school.
First for your dwarf, he’s little and witty,
And every thing, as it is little, is pretty;
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?
Beside, this feat 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.
[Knocking within]
VOLP. Who’s there? my couch; away! look! Nano, see:
Exeunt Androgyno and Castrone
Give me my caps, first—go, enquire. [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;
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:72
Would she were taking now her tedious leave.
Lord, how it threats me what I am to suffer!
Enter Nano, with Lady Politick Would-be
LADY P. I thank you, good sir. ’Pray you signify
Unto your patron, I am here.—This band
Shews 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 favorably to-day! It is no matter:
’Tis well enough.—
Enter 1st Waiting-woman
Look, see, these petulant things,
How they have done this!
VOLP. [Aside] I do feel the fever
Entering in at mine ears; O, for a charm,
To fright it hence!
LADY P. Come nearer: is this curl
In his right place, or this? Why is this higher
Than all the rest? You have not washed your eyes, yet!
&n
bsp; Or do they not stand even in your head?
Where is your fellow? call her.
Exit 1st Woman
NAN. Now, St. Mark
Deliver us! anon, she’ll beat her women,
Because her nose is red.
Re-enter 1st with 2nd Woman
LADY P. I pray you, view
This tire, 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-eyed?
And you, too? ’Pray you, both approach and mend it.
Now, by that light, I muse you are not ashamed!
I, that have preached these things so oft unto you,
Read you the principles, argued all the grounds,
Disputed every fitness, every grace,
Called you to counsel of so frequent dressings—
NAN. [Aside] More carefully than of your fame or honor.
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
At your return: and you thus to neglect it!
Besides you seeing what a curious nation
The Italians are, what will they say of me?
The English lady cannot dress herself.
Here’s a fine imputation to our country!
Well, go your ways, and stay in the next room.
This fucus73 was too coarse too; it’s no matter.—
Good sir, you’ll give them entertainment?
Exeunt Nano and Waiting-women
VOLP. The storm comes toward me.
LADY P. [Goes to the couch] How does my Volpone?
VOLP. Troubled with noise, I cannot sleep; I dreamt
That a strange fury entered, 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 of my fate! I have given her the occasion
How to torment me: she will tell me hers.
LADY P. Me thought, the golden mediocrity,74
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.
LADY P. Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart.75
Seed-pearl were good now, boiled with syrup of apples,
Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills,
Your elicampane root, myrobalanes—
VOLP. [Aside] Ah me, I have ta’en a grass-hopper by the wing!
LADY P. Burnt silk, and amber: You have muscadel
Good in the house—
VOLP. You will not drink, and part?
LADY P. No, fear not that. I doubt, we shall not get
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