But come not, sir,
Until I send, for I have something else
100 To ripen for your good, you must not know ’t.
CORVINO: But do not you forget to send now.
MOSCA: Fear not.
[Exit MOSCA.]
II, vii [CORVINO:] Where are you, wife? My Celia? wife?
[Enter CELIA, weeping.]
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 ha’confirmed thee. Come, I am not jealous.
CELIA: No?
CORVINO: Faith I am not, I, nor never was;
It is a poor unprofitable humour.
Do not I know if women have a will
They’ll do ’gainst all the watches o’the world?
10 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 ’em all on, and, with ’em, 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 THREE
III, i [SCENE ONE]
[A street.]
[Enter MOSCA.]
[MOSCA:] I fear I shall begin to grow in love
With my dear self and my most prosp’rous parts,
They do so spring and burgeon; I can feel
A whimsy i’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, dropped from above,
Not bred ’mongst clods and clodpolls, here on earth.
10 I muse the mystery 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 ’em; 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,
20 With their court-dog tricks, that can fawn and fleer,
Make their revènue 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 humour, all occasion;
Andchange a visor swifter than a thought,
30 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.
III, ii [Enter BONARIO.]
[MOSCA:] Who’s this? Bonario? Old Corbaccio’s son?
The person I was bound to seek. Fair sir,
You are happ’ly met.
BONARIO: That cannot be by thee.
MOSCA: Why, sir?
BONABIO: Nay, pray thee know thy way and leave me:
I would be loath to interchange discourse
With such a mate as thou art.
MOSCA: Courteous sir,
Scorn not my poverty.
BONARIO: Not I, by heaven;
But thou shalt give me leave to hate thy baseness.
MOSCA: Baseness?
BONARIO: Ay, answer me, is not thy sloth
10 Sufficient argument? thy flattery?
Thy means of feeding?
MOSCA: Heaven be good to me!
These imputations are too common, sir,
And eas’ly stuck on virtue when she’s poor.
You are unequal to me, and howe’er
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.
[He weeps.]
BONARIO [aside]: What? does he weep? the sign is soft and good.
I do repent me that I was so harsh.
20 MOSCA: ’Tis true that, swayed by strong necessity,
I am enforced to eat my careful bread
With too much obsequy; ’tis true, beside,
That I am fain to spin mine own poor raiment
Out of my mere observance, 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,
30 Corrupted chastity, or am in love
With mine own tender ease, but would not rather
Prove the most ruggèd and laborious course,
That might redeem my present estimation,
Let me here perish, in all hope of goodness.
BONARIO [aside]: This cannot be a personated passion! –
I was to blame, so to mistake thy nature;
Pray thee forgive me and speak out thy business.
MOSCA: Sir, it concerns you, and though I may seem
At first to make a main offence in manners,
40 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 –
BONARIO: How!
MOSCA: 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
T’abound in you, and for which mere respect,
50 Without a second aim, sir, I have done it.
BONARIO: 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.
MOSCA: 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
60 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.
BONARIO: I’m’mazed!
MOSCA: 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 –
70 BONARIO: Lead, I follow thee.
[Exeunt.]
III, iii [SCENE TWO]
[VOLPONE’S house.]
[Enter VOLPONE.]
[VOLPONE:] Mosca stays long, methinks. Bring forth your sports
And help to make the wretched time more sweet.
[Enter NANO, CASTRONS, and ANDROGYNO.]
NANO [reciting]: Dwarf, fool, and eunuch, well met here we be.
A question it were now, whether of us three,
Being, all, the known delicates of a rich man,
In pleasing him, claim the precedency can?
CASTRONE: I claim for myself.
ANDROGYNO: And so dou the Fool
NANO: ’Tis foolish indeed, let me set you both to school.
First for your dwarf, he’s little and witty,
10 And everything, 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 action, 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
20 His body is beholding to such a bad face.
One knocks.
VOLPONE: Who’s there? My couch, away, look, Nano, see;
[Exit NANO.]
Give me my caps first – go, inquire.
[Exeunt ANDROGYNO and CASTSONB. VOLPONE gets into his bed.]
Now Cupid
Send it be Mosca, and with fair return.
[Re-enter NANO.]
NANO: It is the beauteous Madam –
VOLPONE: Would-be - is it?
NANO: The same.
VOLPONE: Now, torment on me; squire her in,
For she will enter, or dwell here forever.
Nay, quickly, that my fit were past, I fear
[Exit NANO.]
A second hell too: that my loathing this
Will quite expel my appetite tothe other.
30 Would she were taking, now, her tedious leave.
Lord, how it threats me, what I am to suffer!
III, iv [Enter NANO with LADY WOULD-BE.]
[LADY WOULD-BE (to NANO):] 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 today! It is no matter;
’Tis well enough.
[Enter IST WOMAN.]
Look, see these petulant things!
How they have done this!
VOLPONE [aside]: I do feel the fever
Ent’ring in at mine ears. O for a charm
To fright it hence!
10 LADY WOULD-BE: Come nearer. Is this curl
In his right place? or this? Why is this higher
Than all the rest? You ha’not washed your eyes yet?
Or do they not stand even i’your head?
Where’s your fellow? Call her.
[Exit IST WOMAN.]
NANO [aside]: Now, St Mark
Deliver us! Anon she’ll beat her women
Because her nose is red.
[Re-enter IST WOMAN with 2ND WOMAN.]
LADY WOULD-BE: I pray you, view
This tire, forsooth: are all things apt, or no?
IST WOMAN: One hair a little, here, sticks out, forsooth.
LADY WOULD-BE: Does’t so, forsooth? And where was your dear sight
20 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’re 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 –
NANO [aside]: More carefully than of your fame or honour.
LADY WOULD-BE: Made you acquainted what an ample dowry
The knowledge of these things would be unto you,
30 Able, alone, to get you noble husbands
At your return; and you, thus, to neglect it!
Besides, you seeing what a curious nation
Th’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 i’the next room.
This fucus was too coarse, too; it’s no matter.
Good sir, you’ll give ’em entertainment?
[Exit NANO with WOMEN.]
VOLPONE: The storm comes toward me.
LADY WOULD-BE: How does my Volp?
40 VOLPONE: 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 WOULD-BE: Believe me, and I
Had the most fearful dream, could I remember ’t –
VOLPONE [aside]: Out on my fate! I ha’giv’n her the occasion
How to torment me. She will tell me hers.
LADY WOULD-BE: Methought the golden mediocrity,
Polite, and delicate –
VOLPONE: Oh, if you do love me,
No more; I sweat, and suffer, at the mention
50 Of any dream; feel how I tremble yet.
LADY WOULD-BE: Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart.
Seed-pearl were good now, boiled with syrup of apples,
Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills,
Your elecampane root, myrobalanes –
VOLPONE [aside]: Ay me, I have ta’en a grasshopper by the wing!
LADY WOULD-BE: Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadel
Good in the house –
VOLPONE: You will not drink and part?
LADY WOULD-BE: No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not get
Some English saffron, half a dram would serve,
60 Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints,
Bugloss, and barley-meal –
VOLPONE [aside]: She’s in again.
Before I feigned diseases, now I have one.
LADY WOULD-BE: And these applied with a right scarlet cloth.
VOLPONE [aside]: Another flood of words! a very torrent!
LADY WOULD-BE: Shall I, sir, make you a poultice?
VOLPONE: No, no, no.
I’m very well, you need prescribe no more.
LADY WOULD-BE: I have a little studied physic; but now
I’m all for music, save, i’the forenoons,
An hour or two for painting. I would have
70 A lady, indeed, t’have all letters and arts,
Be able to discourse, to write, to paint,
But principal (as Plato holds) your music,
(And so does wise Pythagoras, I take it)
Is your true rapture, when there is concent
In face, in voice, and clothes, and is, indeed,
Our sex’s chiefest ornament.
VOLPONE: The poet,
As old in time as Plato, and as knowing,
Says that your highest female grace is silence.
LADY WOULD-BE: Which o’your poets? Petrarch? or Tasso? or Dante?
80 Guarini? Ariosto? Aretine?
Cieco di Hadria? I have read them all.
VOLPONE [aside]: Is everything a cause to my destruction?
LADY WOULD-BE: I think I ha’two or three of ’em about me.
VOLPONE [aside]: The sun, the sea, will sooner both stand still
Than her eternal tongue! Nothing can ’scape it.
LADY WOULD-BE: Here’s Pastor Fido–
VOLVONE [aside]: Profess obstinate silence;
That’s now my safest.
LADY WOULD-BE: All our English writers,
I mean such as are happy in th’Italian,
Will deign to steal out of this author, mainly;
90 Almost as much as from Montagnié:
He has so modern and facile a vein,
Fitting the time, and catching the court-ear.
Your Petrarch is more passionate, yet he,
In days of sonneting, trusted ’em with much.
Dante is hard, and few can understand him.
But for a desperate wit, there’s Aretine!
Only, his pictures are a little obscene –
You mark me not.
VOLPONE: Alas, my mind’s perturbed.
LADY WOULD-BE: Why, in such cases, we must cure ourselves,
100 Make use of our philosophy -
VOLPONE: O’y me!
LADY WOULD-BE: And as we find our passions do rebel,
Encounter ’em with reason, or divert ’em
By giving scope unto some other humour
Of lesser danger: as, in politic bodies
There’s nothing more doth overwhelm the judgement,
And clouds the understanding, than too much
Settling and fixing, and, as ’twere, subsiding
Upon one object. For the incorporating
Of these same outward things into that part
110 Which we call mental, leaves some certain faeces
That stop the organs, and, as Plato says,
Assassinates our knowledge.
VOLPONE [aside]: Now, the spirit
Of patience help me!
LADY WOULD-BE: Come, in faith, I must
Visit you more a-days and make you well.
Laugh and be lusty!
VOLPONE [aside]: My good angel save me!
LADY WOULD-BE: There was but one sole man in all the world
With whom I e’er could sympathize; and he
Would lie you often, three, four hours together
To hear me speak; and be sometime so rapt,
120 As he would answer me quite from the purpose,
Like you, and you are like him, just. I’ll discourse,
(An’t be but only, sir, to bring you asleep)
How we did spend our time and loves together,
For some six years.
VOLPONE: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!
LADY WOULD-BE: For we were coeetanei, and brought up -
VOLPONE [aside]: Some power, some fate, some fortune rescueme!
III, v [Enter MOSCA.]
[MOSCA:] God save you, madam!
LADY WOULD-BE: Good sir.
VOLPONE: Mosca, welcome!
Welcome to my redemption.
MOSCA: Why, sir?
VOLPONE [aside to MOSCA]: Oh,
Rid me of this my torture quickly, there,
My madam with the everlasting voice;
The bells in time of pestilence ne’er made
Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion!
The cock-pit comes not near it. All my house,
But now, steamed like a bath with her thick breath.
A lawyer could not have been heard; nor scarce
10 Another woman, such a hail of words
She has let fall. For hell’s sake, rid her hence.
MOSCA: Has she presented?
VOLPONE: Oh, I do not care;
I’ll take her absence upon any price,
With any loss.
MOSCA: Madam -
LADY WOULD-BE: I ha’brought your patron
A toy, a cap here, of mine own work.
MOSCA: ’Tis well
I had forgot to tell you I saw your knight
Where you’d little think it.
LADY WOULD-BE: Where?
MOSCA: Marry,
Where yet, if you make haste, you may apprehend him,
Rowing upon the water in a gondole,
20 With the most cunning courtesan of Venice.
LADY WOULD-BE: Is’t true?
MOSCA: Pursue ’em, and believe your eyes.
Leave me to make your gift.
[Exit LADY WOULD-BE.]
I knew ’twould take.
For lightly, they that use themselves most licence,
Are still most jealous.
VOLPONE: Mosca, hearty thanks
For thy quick fiction and delivery of me.
Now to my hopes, what sayst thou?
[Re-enter LADY WOULD-BE.]
LADY WOULD-BE: But do you hear, sir?
VOLPONE: Again! I fear a paroxysm.
LADY WOULD-BE: Which way
Rowed they together?
MOSCA: Toward the Rialto.
LADY WOULD-BE: I pray you lend me your dwarf.
MOSCA: I pray you, take him.
[Exit LADY WOULD-BE.]
30 Your hopes, sir, are like happy blossoms fair,
And promise timely fruit, if you will stay
But the maturing; keep you at your couch.
Corbaccio will arrive straight with the will;
When he is gone, I’ll tell you more.
[Exit MOSCA.]
VOLPONE: My blood,
My spirits are returned; I am alive;
And, like your wanton gamester at primero,
Whose thought had whispered to him, not go less,
Methinks I lie, and draw – for an encounter.
[VOLPONE draws the curtains of his bed.]
III, vi [MOSCA leads in BONARIO and hides him.]
[MOSCA:] Sir, here concealed you may hear all. But pray you
One knocks.
Have patience, sir; the same’s your father knocks.
I am compelled to leave you.
BONARIO: Do so. – Yet
Cannot my thought imagine this a truth.
III, vi [MOSCA admits CORVINO with CELIA.]
[MOSCA:] Death on me! you are come too soon, what meant you?
Did not I say I would send?
CORVINO: Yes, but I feared
You might forget it, and then they prevent us.
MOSCA: Prevent! [Aside] Did e’er man haste so for his horns?
A courtier would not ply it so for a place.
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