Volpone and Other Plays (24 page)

3RD MERCHANT
:
Godso
, he has garters!

1ST MERCHANT
:                                         Ay, and gloves!

They pull off the shell and discover him
.

2ND MERCHANT
:                                                                 Is this

Your fearful tortoise?

PEREGRINE
:                         Now, Sir Pol, we are even;

For your next project I shall be prepared.

I am sorry for the
funeral
of your notes, sir.

1ST MERCHANT
: 'Twere a rare
motion
to be seen in Fleet Street

2ND MERCHANT
: Ay, i' the
term
.

1ST MERCHANT
:                         Or Smithfield, in the fair.

3RD MERCHANT
: Methinks 'tis but a melancholic sight.

PEREGRINE
: Farewell, most politic tortoise!

[
Exeunt
PEREGRINE
and the three
MERCHANTS
.]

[
Re-enter
WOMAN
.]

80    
SIR POLITIC
:                                         Where's my lady?

Knows she of this?

WOMAN
:                         I know not, sir.

SIR POLITIC
:                                 Inquire.

[
Exit
WOMAN
.]

O, I shall be
the fable of all feasts
,

The
freight
of the
gazetti
, ship-boys' tale,

And, which is worst, even talk for
ordinaries
.

[
Re-enter
WOMAN
.]

WOMAN
: My lady's come most melancholic home,

And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic.

SIR POLITIC
: And I, to shun this place and clime forever,

Creeping with house on back, and think it well

To shrink my poor head in my politic shell.

[
Exeunt
.]

[
VOLPONE'S
house
.]

[
Enter
VOLPONE
and
MOSCA
.]
The first in the habit of a Commendatore; the other [in that] of a Clarissimo
.

[
VOLPONE
:] Am I then like him?

MOSCA
:                                     O sir, you are he;

No man can
sever
you.

VOLPONE
:                                Good.

MOSCA
:                                                    But what am I?

VOLPONE
: ‘Fore heav'n, a brave
clarissimo
, thou becom'st it!

Pity thou wert not born one

MOSCA
[
aside
]:                                   If I hold

My made one
, 'twill be well.

VOLPONE
:                      I'll go and see

What news, first, at the court.

[
Exit
.]

MOSCA
:            Do so.
My fox

Is out on his hole, and ere he shall re-enter,

I'll make him languish in his borrowed
case
,

Except
he come to
composition
with me.

Androgyno, Castrone, Nano!

[
Enter
ANDROGYNO, CASTRONE
,
and
NANO
.]

ALL
:            Here!

MOSCA
: Go recreate yourselves abroad, go sport.

[Exeunt.]

So, now I have the keys and am possessed.

Since he will needs be dead afore his time,

I'll bury him, or gain by him. I'm his heir,

And so will keep me, till he share at least.

To cozen him of all were but a cheat

Well placed; no man would cònstrue it a sin.

Let his sport pay for 't. This is called the fox-trap.

[
Exit
.]

[
A street
.]

[
Enter
COSBACCIO
and
CORVINO
.]

[
CORBACCIO
:] They say the court is set.

CORVINO
:                                          We must maintain

Our first tale good, for both our reputations.

CORBACCIO
: Why, mine's no tale! My son would, there, have killed me.

CORVINO
: That's true, I had forgot. Mine is, I am sure.

But for your will, sir.

CORBACCIO
:             Ay, I'll come upon him

For that hereafter, now his patron's dead.

[
Enter
VOLPONE,
disguised
.]

VOLPONE
: Signor Corvino! And Corbaccio! Sir,

Much joy unto you.

CORVINO
:                                Of what?

VOLPONE
:                                The sudden good

Dropped down upon you –

CORBACCIO
:                    Where?

VOLPONE
:                                And none knows how,

From old Volpone, sir.

10    
CORBACCIO
:             Out, arrant knave!

VOLPONE
: Let not your too much wealth, sir, make you furious.

CORBACCIO
: Away, thou varlet.

VOLPONE
:         Why, sir?

CORBACCIO
:             Dost thou mock me?

VOLPONE
: You mock the world, sir; did you not change wills?

CORBACCIO
: Out, harlot!

VOLPONE
:            O! belike you are the man,

Signor Corvino? Faith, you carry it well;

You grow not mad withal, I love your spirit.

You are not
over-leavened
with your fortune.

You should ha' some would swell now like a wine-vat

With such an autumn – Did he gi' you all, sir?

CORVINO
: Avoid, you rascal.

20    
VOLPONE
:                         Troth, your wife has shown

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?

CORBACCIO
:        Hence, varlet!

VOLPONE
: you will not be
a' known
, sir? why, 'tis wise.

Thus do all gamesters, at all games, dissemble.

No man will seem to win.

[
Exeunt
CORVINO
and
CORBACCIO
.]

                                                     Here comes my vulture,

Heaving his beak up i' the air, and snuffing.

V, vii          [
Enter
VOLTORE
to
VOLPONE.]

[
VOLTORE
:] Outstripped thus, by a parasite! A slave,

Would run on errands, and
make legs
for crumbs?

Well, what I'll do –

VOLPONE
:        The court stays for your worship.

I e' en rejoice, sir, at your worship's happiness,

And that it fell into so learnèd hands,

That understand the fingering –

VOLTORE
:                            What do you mean?

VOLPONE
: I mean to be a suitor to your worship

For the small tenement, out of reparations,

That at the end of your long row of houses,

10        By the
Pescheria
; it was, in Volpone's time,

Your predecessor, ere he grew diseased,

A handsome, pretty,
customed
bawdy-house

As any was in Venice – none dispraised –

But fell with him. His body and that house

Decayed together.

VOLTORE
:        Come, sir, leave your prating.

VOLPONE
: Why, if your worship give me but your hand,

That I may ha' the refusal, I have done.

'Tis a mere toy to you, sir,
candle-rents
.

As your learnèd worship knows –

VOLTORE
:                             What do I know?

20    
VOLPONE
: Marry, no end of your wealth, sir, God decrease it.

VOLTORE
: Mistaking knave! What, mock'st thou my misfortune?

VOLPONE
: His blessing on your heart, sir; would 'twere more!

[
Exit
VOLTORE
.]

Now, to my first again, at the next corner.

v, viii          [VOLPONE
stands apart. Enter
CORBACCIO
and
CORVINO
.]

[
MOSCA
passes across the stage
.]

[
CORBACCIO
:] See,
in our habit
! See the impudent varlet!

CORVINO
: That I could shoot mine eyes at him, like
gun-stones
!

[
Exit
MOSCA
.]

VOLPONE
: But is this true, sir, of the parasite?

CORBACCIO
: Again t' afflict us? Monster!

VOLPONE
:                                In good faith, sir,

I'm heartily grieved a beard of your grave length

Should be so over-reached. I never brooked

That parasite's hair; methought his nose should cozen.

There still was somewhat in his look did promise

The bane of a
clarissimo
.

CORBACCIO
:            knave –

VOLPONE
:              Methinks

10        Yet you, that are so traded i' the world,

A witty merchant, the fine bird Corvino,

That have such
moral emblems
on your name,

Should not have sung your shame, and dropped your cheese,

To let the Fox laugh at your emptiness.

CORVINO
: Sirrah, you think the
privilege of the place
,

And your red, saucy cap, that seems to me

Nailed to your jolt-head with those two
chequins
,

Can warrant your abuses. Come you hither:

You shall perceive, sir, I dare beat you. Approach.

20    
VOLPONE
: No haste, sir. I do know your valour well,

Since you durst publish what you are, sir.

CORVINO
:              Tarry,

I' d speak with you.

VOLPONE
:                 Sir, sir, another time –

CORVINO
: Nay, now.

VOLPONE
:         O God, sir! I were a wise man

Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold.

MOSCA
walks by 'em
.

CORBACCIO
: What, come again?

VOLPONE
[
aside
]:                   Upon 'em, Mosca; save me.

CORBACCIO
: The air's infected where he breathes.

CORVINO
:                                    Let's fly him.

[
Exeunt
CORVINO
and
CORBACCIO
.]

VOLPONE
: Excellent
basilisk
! Turn upon the vulture!

v, ix       [
Enter
VOLTORE
.]

[
VOLTORE
:] Well, flesh-fly, it is summer with you now;

Your winter will come on.

MOSCA
:                           Good advocate,

Pray thee not rail, nor threaten out of place thus;

Thou' lt make a solecism, as Madam says.

Get you a
biggen
more; your brain breaks loose.

[
Exit
.]

VOLTORE
: Well, sir.

VOLTORE
:            Would you ha' me beat the insolent slave?

Throw dirt upon his first good clothes?

 
VOLTORE
:               This same

Is doubtless some
familiar
!

VOLTORE
:              Sir, the court,

In troth, stays for you. I am mad, a mule

10         That never read Justinian should get up

And ride an advocate! Had you no
quirk

To avoid gullage, sir, by such a creature?

I hope you do but jest; he had not done 't;