MOSCA, VOLPONE. [_Enter_] VOLTORE.
_Volt._ Well, flesh-fly, it is summer with you now;
Your winter will come on.
_Mos._ Good advocate,
Prithee not rail, nor threaten out of place thus;
Thou’lt make a solecism, as madam says.
Get you a biggin[1738] more; your brain breaks loose. [_Exit._] 5
_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, 10
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, 15
Troublesome knave! thou dost torment me.
_Volp._ I know——
It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozen’d;
’T is not within the wit of man to do it;
You are so wise, so prudent; and ’t is fit 19
That wealth and wisdom still should go together.
[_Exeunt._]