Volpone and Other Plays (23 page)

CORBACCIO
. I'm cozened, cheated, by a parasite slave!

Harlot, th' ast gulled me.

MOSCA
:                           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 year, snuffed about

70        With your most grov' ling nose, and would have hired

Me to the pois' ning of my patron, sir?

Are not you he that have, today, in court,

Professed the disinheriting of your son?

Perjured yourself? Go home, and the, and stink.

If you but croak a syllable, all comes out

Away, and call your porters! Go, go stink.

[
Exit
CORBACCIO
.]

VOLPONE
[
aside
]: Excellent varlet!

VOLTORE
:                                    Now, my faithful Mosca,

I find thy constancy –

MOSCA
:                           Sir?

VOLTORE
:                                    Sincere.

MOSCA
[
writing again
]:                         A table

Of porphyry – I mar'l you'll be thus troublesome.

VOLTORE
: Nay, leave off now, they are gone.

80    
MOSCA
:                                                     Why, who are you?

What who did send for you? O, cry you mercy,

Reverend sir! Good faith, I am grieved for you,

That any chance of mine should thus defeat

Your (I must needs say) most deserving travails.

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)

90        Will never let you want while there are men

And malice to breed causes. Would I had

But half the like, 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 meantime,

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

100      To set up a young man. Good faith, you look

As you were costive; best go home and purge, sir.

[
Exit
VOLTORE
.]

VOLPONE
: Bid him eat
lettuce
well! My witty mischief,

[
Coming from behind the curtains
.]

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?

MOSCA
:                           I doubt it will lose them.

VOLPONE
: O, my recovery shall recover all.

110      That I could now but think on some disguies

To meet 'em in, and ask 'em questions.

How I would vex 'em still at every turn!

MOSCA
: Sir, I can fit you.

VOLPONE
:                           Canst thou?

MOSCA
:                                                      Yes, I know

One o' th'
commendatori
, sir, so like you;

Him will I straight make drunk, and bring you his habit

VOLPONE
: A rare disguise, and answering thy brain!

O, I will be a sharp disease unto 'em.

MOSCA
: Sir, you must look for curses –

VOLPONE
:                                               Till they burst;

The Fox fares ever best when he is cursed.

[
Exeunt
.]

[
SIR POLITIC'S
lodging
.]

[
Enter
PEREGRINE
,
disguised, and three
MERCHANTS
.]

[
PEREGRINE
:] Am I enough disguised?

1ST MERCHANT
:                           I warrant you.

PEREGRINE
: All my ambition is to fright him only.

2ND MERCHANT
: If you could ship him away, 'twere excellent

3RD MERCHANT
: To Zant, or to Aleppo?

PEREGRINE
:                               Yes, and ha' his

Adventures put i' th' Book of Voyages,

And his gulled story registered for truth?

Well, gentlemen, when I am in a while,

And that you think us warm in our discourse,

Know your approaches.

1ST MERCHANT
:                           Trust it to our care.

[
Exeunt
MERCHANTS
.]

[
Enter
WOMAN
.]

PEREGRINE
: Save you, fair lady. Is Sir Pol within?

10    
WOMAN
: I do not know, sir.

PEREGRINE
:                                     Pray you say unto him,

Here is a merchant, upon earnest business,

Desires to speak with him.

WOMAN
:                                 I will see, sir.

PEREGRINE
:                                 Pray you.

[
Exit
WOMAN
.]

I see the family is all female here.

[
Re-enter
WOMAN
.]

WOMAN
: He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state

That now require him whole; some other time

You may possess him.

PEREGRINE
:                         Pray you, say again,

If those require him whole, these will exact him,

Whereof I bring him tidings.

[
Exit
WOMAN
.]                         What might be

20        His grave affair of state now? How to make

Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing

One o' th' ingredients?

[
Re-enter
WOMAN
.]

WOMAN
:               Sir, he says he knows

By your word ‘tidings' that you are no statesman,

30        And therefore wills you stay.

PEREGRINE
:                         Sweet, pray you return him:

I have not read so many proclamations

And studied them for words, as he has done,

But – Here he deigns to come.

[
Enter
SIR POLITIC
.]

SIR POLITIC
:                         Sir, I must crave

Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced today

Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me,

30        And I was penning my apology

To give her satisfaction, as you came now.

PEREGRINE
: Sir, I am grieved I bring you worse disaster:

The gentleman you met at th' port today,

That told you he was newly arrived –

SIR POLITIC
:                                                 Ay, was

A fugitive punk?

PEREGRINE
:      No, sir, a spy set on you,

And he has made relation to the Senate

That you professed to him to have a plot

To sell the state of Venice to the Turk.

SIR POLITIC
: O me!

PEREGRINE
:      For which warrants are signed by this time

40        To apprehend you and to search your study

For papers –

SIR POLITIC
: Alas, sir, I have none but notes

Drawn out of
play-books
–

PEREGRINE
:                                 All the better, sir.

SIR POLITIC
: And some essays. What shall I do?

PEREGRINE
:                                                         Sir, best

Convey yourself into a sugar-chest,

Or, if you could lie round, a
frail
were rare,

And I could send you aboard.

SIR POLITIC
:                                 Sir, I but talked so

For discourse' sake merely.

They knock without
.

PEREGRINE
:                                 Hark, they are there.

SIR POLITIC
: I am a wretch, a wretch!

PEREGRINE
:                                                         What will you do, sir?

Ha' you ne' er a currant-butt to leap into?

50        They' ll put you to the rack, you must be sudden.

SIR POLITIC
: Sir, I have an
engine
–

3RD MERCHANT
[
outside
]:                      Sir Politic Would-be!

2ND MERCHANT
[
outside
]: Where is he?

SIR POLITIC
:              That I have thought up-on beforetime.

PEREGRINE
: What is it?

SIR POLITIC
:                         I shall ne' er endure the torture!

Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell,

Fitted
for these extremities. Pray you, sir, help me.

[
He gets into a large tortoise-shell
.]

Here I've a place, sir, to put back my legs;

Please you to lay it on, sir. With this cap

And my black gloves, I'll lie, sir, like a tortoise,

Till they are gone.

PEREGRINE
:              And call you this an engine?

60    
SIR POLITIC
: My own device – Good sir, bid my wife's women

To burn my papers.

They [the three
MERCHANTS
]
rush in
.

1
ST MERCHANT
:                 Where's he hid?

3RD
MERCHANT
:                                         We must,

And will, sure, find him.

2ND MERCHANT
:        Which is his study?

1ST MERCHANT
:                                    What

Are you, sir?

PEREGRINE
: I'm a merchant that came here

To look upon this tortoise.

3RD
MERCHANT
:                        How!

1ST MERCHANT
:                               St Mark!

What beast is this?

PEREGRINE
:         It is a fish.

2ND MERCHANT
[
kicking the ‘tortoise'
]: Come out here!

PEREGRINE
: Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him.

He' ll bear a cart.

1ST MERCHANT
: What, to run over him?

PEREGRINE
:                                                 Yes.

3RD MERCHANT
: Let's jump upon him.

2ND MERCHANT
:                                 Can he not go?

PEREGRINE
:                                                         He creeps, sir.

1ST MBRCHANT
: Let's see him creep. [
Goading him
.]

PEREGRINE
:                                                 No, good sir, you will hurt

  him.

70    
2ND MERCHANT
: Heart, I'll see him creep, or prick his guts.

3RD MERCHANT
: Come out here!

PEREGRINE
[
aside to
SIR POLITIC
]: Pray you, sir, creep a little.

1ST MERCHANT
:                                                         Forth!

2ND MERCHANT
: Yet further.

PEREGRINE
[
aside to
SIR POLITIC
]: Good sir, creep!

2ND MERCHANT
:                                                 We' ll see his legs.