VOLPONE. [_Enter_] MOSCA.
_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 carri’d learnedly?
_Volp._ And stoutly: 5
Good wits are greatest in extremities.
_Mos._ It were 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: 10
The pleasure of all woman-kind ’s not like it.
_Mos._ Why, now you speak, sir. We must here be fix’d;
Here we must rest; this is our masterpiece;
We cannot think to go beyond this.
_Volp._ True,
Thou host play’d thy prize, my precious Mosca.
_Mos._ Nay, sir, 15
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 thou ’st borne it!
That these, being so divided ’mongst themselves, 20
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 possest and stuft with his own hopes
That anything unto the contrary, 25
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 signiors
Of land that yields well; but if Italy 30
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 35
May pass, most honour’d fathers”—I had much ado
To forbear laughing.
_Mos._ It 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; 40
Never but still myself.
_Mos._ I think it, sir.
Now, so truth help me, I must needs say this, sir,
And out of conscience for your advocate,
He has taken pains, in faith, sir, and deserv’d,
In my poor judgment, I speak it under favour, 45
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, 50
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._ ’T is right.
I cannot answer him, Mosca, as I would,
Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, 65
I will begin, even now—to vex ’em all,
This very instant.
_Mos._ Good sir.
_Volp._ Call the dwarf
And eunuch forth.
_Mos._ Castrone, Nano!
[_Enter_ CASTRONE _and_ NANO.]
_Nano._ Here.
_Volp._ Shall we have a jig now?
_Mos._ What you please, sir.
_Volp._ Go,
Straight give out about the streets, you two, 60
That I am dead; do it with constancy,
Sadly,[1715] do you hear? Impute it to the grief
Of this late slander. [_Exeunt_ CAST. _and_ NANO.]
_Mos._ What do you mean, sir?
_Volp._ O,
I shall have instantly my Vulture, Crow,
Raven, come flying hither, on the news, 65
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._ ’T is true. I will ha’ thee put on a gown, 69
And take upon thee, as thou wert mine heir;
Show ’em a will. Open that chest, and reach
Forth one of those that has the blanks; I ’ll straight
Put in thy name.
_Mos._ It will be rare, sir.
[_Gives him a paper._]
_Volp._ Ay,
When they e’en gape, and find themselves deluded—— 74
_Mos._ Yes.
_Volp._ And thou use them scurvily! Dispatch,
Get on thy gown.
_Mos._ [_putting on a gown._] 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._ Anything; what thou wilt. Hold, here ’s my will. 80
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:
Sometime peep over, see how they do look, 85
With what degrees their blood doth leave their faces.
O, ’t will afford me a rare meal of laughter!
_Mos._ [_putting on a cap, and setting out the table, &c._] Your
advocate will turn stark dull upon it.
_Volp._ It will take off his oratory’s edge. 90
_Mos._ But your clarissimo, old roundback, 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 dagger,
To visit all the streets; he must run mad,
My lady too, that came into the court, 95
To bear false witness for your worship——
_Volp._ Yes,
And kiss’d me ’fore the fathers, when my face
Flow’d all with oils——
_Mos._ And sweat, sir. Why, your gold
Is such another med’cine, it dries up
All those offensive savours: it transforms 100
The most deformed, and restores them lovely,
As ’t were the strange poetical girdle.[1716] Jove
Could not invent t’ himself a shroud more subtle
To pass Acrisius’[1717] guards. It is the thing
Makes all the world her grace, her youth, her beauty. 105
_Volp._ I think she loves me.
_Mos._ Who? The lady, sir?
She ’s jealous of you.
_Volp._ Dost thou say so?
[_Knocking within._]
_Mos._ Hark.
There ’s some already.
_Volp._ Look.
_Mos._ It is the Vulture;
He has the quickest scent.
_Volp._ I ’ll to my place,
Thou to thy posture. [_Goes behind the curtain._]
_Mos._ I am set.
_Volp._ But, Mosca, 110
Play the artificer now, torture ’em rarely.