Volpone and Other Plays (30 page)

BOOK: Volpone and Other Plays
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DAPPER
: A clerk!

20    
FACE
:                          Nay, hear me, sir. You know the law

Better, I think –

DAPPER
:                          I should, sir, and the danger

You know, I showed the statute to you.

FACE
:                                   You did so.

DAPPER
: And will I tell then! By this hand of flesh, Would it might never write good court-hand more, If I discover. What do you think of me, That I am a
chiaus
?

FACE
:                          What's that?

DAPPER
:                                             The Turk was here.

As one would say, do you think I am a Turk?

FACE
: I'll tell the Doctor so.

DAPPER
:                                       Do, good sweet Captain.

FACE
: Come, noble Doctor, pray thee, let's prevail;

30         This is the gentleman, and he is no chiaus.

SUBTLE
: Captain, I have returned you all my answer.

I would do much, sir, for your love – But this

I neither may, nor can.

FACE
:                                       Tut, do not say so.

You deal now with a noble fellow, Doctor,

One that will thank you richly; and he's no chiaus.

Let that, sir, move you.

SUBTLE
:                                       Pray you, forbear –

FACE
:                                                                             He has

Four
angels
here.

SUBTLE
:                                       You do me wrong, good sir.

FACE
: Doctor, wherein? To tempt you with these spirits?

SUBTLE
: To tempt my art and love, sir, to my peril.

40              ‘Fore heav' n, I scarce can think you are my friend,

That so would draw me to apparent danger.

FACE
: I draw you! A horse draw you, and a halter,

You, and your flies together -

DAPPER
:                                                    Nay, good Captain.

FACE
: That know no difference of men.

SUBTLE
:                                       Good words, sir.

FACE
: Good deeds, sir, Doctor Dogs' -meat. 'Slight, I bring you

No cheating Clim-o' -the-Cloughs or Claribels,

That look as big as five-and-fifty, and
flush
;

And spit out secrets like hot custard -

DAPPER
:                                                                     captain!

FACE
: Nor any melancholic under-scribe,

50             Shall tell the vicar; but a special gentle,

That is the heir to forty marks a year,

Consorts with the small poets of the time,

Is the sole hope of his old grandmother;

That knows the law, and writes you six fair hands,

Is a fine clerk, and has his ciph'ring perfect;

Will take his oath o' the Greek Xenophon,

If need be, in his pocket; and can court

His mistress out of Ovid.

DAPPER
:                                                    Nay, dear Captain -

FACE
: Did you not tell me so?

DAPPER
:                                   Yes, but I' d ha' you

60         Use Master Doctor with some more respect.

FACE
: Hang him, proud stag, with his broad velvet head! -

But for your sake, I' d choke ere I would change

An article of breath with such a
puck-fist
! -

Come, let's be gone. [
Going
.]

SUBTLE
:             Pray you, le' me speak with you.

DAPPER
: His worship calls you, Captain.

FACE
:                          I am sorry

I e' er embarked myself in such a business.

DAPPER
: Nay, good sir; he did call you.

FACE
:                                                             Will he take then?

SUBTLE
: First, hear me –

FACE
:                                       Not a syllable, ' less you take.

SUBTLE
: Pray ye, sir -

FACE
:                              Upon no terms but an
assumpsit
.

SUBTLE
: Your humour must be law.

He takes the money
.

70    
FACE
:                                   Why now, sir, talk.

Now I dare hear you with mine honour. Speak.

So may this gentleman too.

SUBTLE
:                          Why, sir -

DAPPER
: ‘Fore Heav'n, you do not apprehend the loss you do yourself in this.

FACE
:                                       Wherein? for what?

SUBTLE
: Marry, to be so importunate for one

That, when he has it, will undo you all:

He'll win up all the money i' the town.

FACE
: How!

SUBTLE
: Yes, and blow up gamester after gamester,

As they do
crackers
in a puppet-play.

80             If I do give him a familiar,

Give you him all you play for; never
set
him,

For he will have it.

FACE
:                                       You' re mistaken, Doctor.

Why, he does ask one but for cups and horses,

A rifling fly; none o' your great familiars.

DAPPER
: Yes, Captain, I would have it for all games.

SUBTLE
: I told you so.

FACE
[
TO
DAPPER
]: 'Slight, that's a new business!

I understood you, a tame bird, to fly

Twice in a term, or so, on Friday nights,

When you had left the office, for a nag

90              Of forty or fifty shillings.

DAPPER
:                          Ay, 'tis true, sir;

But I do think now I shall leave the law,

And therefore -

FACE
:                          Why, this changes quite the case!

D' you think that I dare move him?

DAPPER
:                                       If you please, sir;

All's one to him, I see.

FACE
: What! for that money?

I cannot with my conscience; nor should you

Make the request, methinks.

DAPPER
:                                       No, sir, I mean

To add consideration.

FACE
:                          Why, then, sir,

I'll try. [
Goes to
SUBTLE
] Say that it were for all games,

Doctor?

SUBTLE
: I say then, not a mouth shall eat for him

100          
At any
ordinary
, but o' the score,

That is a gaming mouth, conceive me.

FACE
:                          Indeed!

SUBTLE
: He'll draw you all the treasure of the realm,

If it be set him.

FACE
:                          Speak you this from art?

SUBTLE
: Ay, sir, and reason too, the ground of art.

He's o' the only best complexion,

The Queen of Faery loves.

FACE
:                                       What! Is he?

SUBTLE
:                                                         Peace.

He'll overhear you. Sir, should she but see him -

FACE
: What?

SUBTLE
:             Do not you tell him.

FACE
:                                       Will he win at cards too'?

SUBTLE
: The spirits of dead holland, living Isaac,

110           You' d swear, were in him; such a vigorous luck

As cannot be resisted. 'Slight, he'll
put

Six o' your gallants to a cloak, indeed.

FACE
: A strange success, that some man shall be born to!

SUBTLE
: He hears you, man -

DAPPER
:Sir, I'll not be ingrateful.

FACE
: Faith, I have a confidence in his good nature:

You hear, he says he will not be ingrateful.

SUBTLE
: Why, as you please; my venture follows yours.

FACE
: Troth, do it, Doctor; think him trusty, and make him.

120           He may make us both happy in an hour;

Win some five thousand pound, and send us two on't.

DAPPER
: Believe it, and I will, sir.

FACE
:                                                    And you shall, sir.

FACE
takes him aside
.

You have heard all?

DAPPER
:                                       No, what was't? Nothing, I, sir.

FACE
: Nothing?

DAPPER
:                          A little, sir.

FACE
:                                       Well, a rare star

Reigned at your birth.

DAPPER
:                                       At mine, sir! No.

FACE
:                                       The Doctor

Swears that you are -

SUBTLE
:                                       Nay, Captain, you'll tell all now.

FACE
: Allied to the Queen of Faery.

DAPPER
:                          Who! That I am?

Believe it, no such matter -

FACE
:                                       Yes, and that

You were
born with a caul
o' your head.

DAPPER
:                                       Who says so?

FACE
:                                                                        Come,

You know it well enough, though you dissemble it.

130  
DAPPER
:
I' fac
, I do not; you are mistaken.

FACE
:                                       How!

Swear by your fac? And in a thing so known

Unto the Doctor? How shall we, sir, trust you

I' the other matter? Can we ever think,

When you have won five or six thousand pound,

You'll send us shares in 't, by this rate?

DAPPER
:                                       By Jove, sir,

I'll win ten thousand pound, and send you half.

I' fac's no oath.

SUBTLE
:                      No, no, he did but jest.

FACE
: Go to. Go thank the Doctor. He's your friend,

To take it so.

DAPPER
:             I thank his worship.

FACE
:                                                             So!-

140       Another angel!

DAPPER
:                          Must I?

FACE
:                                                    Must you! 'Slight,

What else is thanks? Will you be trivial? -

[
DAPPER
gives him the money
.]

                                                                                      Doctor,

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