My patron to reform his will; and, for
The zeal you have shewn to-day, whereas before
You were but third, or fourth, you shall be now

Put in the first; which would appear as begg'd,
If you were present. Therefore-
Lady. You shall sway me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

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 'twas good, in pri

vate;

But, in your public, cave, whilst I breathe. 'Fore God, my left leg 'gan to have the cramp; And I apprehended, strait, 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.

Give me a bowl of lusty wine, to fright This humour from my heart; (hum, hum, hum,) [He drinks. 'Tis almost gone already: I shall conquer. Any device, now, of rare, ingenious knavery, That would possess me with a violent laughter, Would make me up, again! So, so, so, so.

[Drinks again. This heat is life; 'tis blood, by this time: Mosca!

SCENE II.

MOSCA, VOLPONE.

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 carried learnedly?
Volp. And stoutly.

Good wits are greatest in extremities.

Mos. It were a 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. The pleasure of all womankind's not like it.

Mos. Why, now you speak, sir. We must
here be fix'd;

Here we must rest; this is our master-picce:
We cannot think to go beyond this.

Volp. True,

Thou hast play'd this prize, my precious Mosca. Mos. Nay, sir,

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 th' hast born it!

That these, being so divided 'mongst themselves,
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 possessed, and stuff'd with his own hopes,
That any thing unto the contrary,

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 sig

niors

Of land that yields well; but if Italy
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
May pass, most honour'd fathers-
much ado

To forbear laughing.

Mos. 'T 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:
Never, but still myself.

Mos. I think it, sir.

-) I had

Now, so truth help me, I must needs say this,

sir,

And, out of conscience, for advocate:
your
He has taken pains in faith, sir, and deserved
(In my poor judgment, I speak it, under favour,
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,
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. 'Tis right.

I cannot answer him, Mosca, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty,

I will begin, ev'n now, to vex 'em all: This very instant.

Mos. Good, sir.

Folp. Call the dwarf, and eunuch, forth. Mus. Castrone, Nano.

Enter CASTRONE and NANO.

Nan. Here.

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.

Mos. 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.
Mos. Your advocate will turn stark dull upon it.
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.
Volp. 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 lay, too, that came into the court,
To bear false witness for your worship-
Volp. Yes,

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

Mos. And sweat, sir. Why, your gold

VOLTORE, MOSCA, and VOLPONE.
Volt. How now, my Mosca?
Mos. 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 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.

Cord. 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?
Enter Lady.

Lady. 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 shew it these, and rid 'em hence.
Mos. Six chests of diaper, four of damask-
There.

Cord. 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

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!

[Exit.

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,
Have, 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. [Exit.
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 merey,
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 hike, 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. 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; 'twill help To set up a young man. Good faith, you look As you were costive; best go home and purge, [Exit. Volp. Bid him eat lettuce well: My witty mis

sir.

chief,

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.

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, 'twere excellent.

3 Mer. To Zant, or to Aleppo.
Per. Yes, and ha' his

Adventures put in the book of voyages,
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.

Enter 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.

Per. 'Pray you.

I see the family is all female, here.

Wom. He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state,

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.-What might be
His grave affair of state, now? how to make
Bolognian sausages, here in Venice, sparing
One o'th' ingredients.

Wo. Sir, he says, he knows

By your word, tidings, that you are no states

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?

Pol. That I have thought upon, before time. Per. What is it?

Pot. I shall ne'er endure the torture. Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell, Fitted for these extremities: 'Pray you, sir, help

me.

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.

Let his sport pay for't, this is call'd the fox-trap.

2 Mer. We'll see his legs.

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!

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. 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.

Corb. Hence, varlet.

Volp. You will not be a'known, sir: Why, 'tis wise;

Thus do all gamesters, at all games, dissemble. No man will seem to win. flere comes my vul

ture,

Heaving his beak up in the air, and snuffing.

SCENE VII.

VOLTORE and VOLPONE.

Volt. Outstript thus, by a parasite, a slave? Would run on errands? and make legs for crums? 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