Chapter L: Act II: Scene I.1587

[_Enter_] SIR POLITIC WOULD-BE, _and_ PEREGRINE.

_Sir P._ Sir, to a wise man, all the world’s his soil:
It is not Italy, nor France, nor Europe,
That must bound me, if my fates call me forth.
Yet I protest, it is no salt desire
Of seeing countries, shifting a religion, 5
Nor any disaffection to the state
Where I was bred, and unto which I owe
My dearest plots, hath brought me out, much less
That idle, antique, stale, grey-headed project
Of knowing men’s minds and manners, with Ulysses! 10
But a peculiar humour of my wife’s
Laid for this height of Venice, to observe,
To quote,[1588] to learn the language, and so forth——
I hope you travel, sir, with licence?

_Per._ Yes.

_Sir P._ I dare the safelier converse——How long, sir, 15
Since you left England?

_Per._ Seven weeks.

_Sir P._ So lately!
You have not been with my lord ambassador?

_Per._ Not yet, sir.

_Sir P._ Pray you, what news, sir, vents our climate?
I heard last night a most strange thing reported
By some of my lord’s followers, and I long 21
To hear how ’t will be seconded.

_Per._ What was ’t, sir?

_Sir P._ Marry, sir, of a raven that should build
In a ship royal of the king’s.

_Per._ [_Aside._] This fellow,
Does he gull me, trow? or is gull’d? Your name, sir?

_Sir P._ My name is Politic Would-be.

_Per._ [_Aside._] O, that speaks him. 25
A knight, sir?

_Sir P._ A poor knight, sir.

_Per._ Your lady
Lies[1589] here in Venice, for intelligence
Of tires and fashions, and behaviour,
Among the courtesans? The fine Lady Would-be?

_Sir P._ Yes, sir; the spider and the bee ofttimes 30
Suck from one flower.

_Per._ Good Sir Politic,
I cry you mercy; I have heard much of you:
’T is true, sir, of your raven.

_Sir P._ On your knowledge?

_Per._ Yes, and your lion’s whelping in the Tower.

_Sir P._ Another whelp![1590]

_Per._ Another, sir.

_Sir P._ Now heaven! 35
What prodigies be these? The fires at Berwick!
And the new star! These things concurring, strange.
And full of omen! Saw you those meteors?

_Per._ I did, sir.

_Sir P._ Fearful! Pray you, sir, confirm me,
Were there three porpoises seen above the bridge, 40
As they give out?

_Per._ Six, and a sturgeon, sir.

_Sir P._ I am astonish’d.

_Per._ Nay, sir, be not so;
I ’ll tell you a greater prodigy than these.

_Sir P._ What should these things portend?

_Per._ The very day
(Let me be sure) that I put forth from London,
There was a whale discover’d in the river, 46
As high as Woolwich, that had waited there,
Few know how many months, for the subversion
Of the Stode fleet.

_Sir P._ Is ’t possible? Believe it,
’T was either sent from Spain, or the archduke’s: 50
Spinola’s whale, upon my life, my credit!
Will they not leave these projects? Worthy sir,
Some other news.

_Per._ Faith, Stone the fool is dead,
And they do lack a tavern fool extremely.

_Sir P._ Is Mass Stone dead?

_Per._ He ’s dead, sir; why, I hope 55
You thought him not immortal?—[_Aside._] O, this knight,
Were he well known, would be a precious thing
To fit our English stage: he that should write
But such a fellow, should be thought to feign
Extremely, if not maliciously.

_Sir P._ Stone dead! 60

_Per._ Dead.—Lord! how deeply, sir, you apprehend it!
He was no kinsman to you?

_Sir P._ That I know of.
Well! that same fellow was an unknown fool.

_Per._ And yet you knew him, it seems?

_Sir P._ I did so. Sir,
I knew him one of the most dangerous heads 65
Living within the state, and so I held him.

_Per._ Indeed, sir?

_Sir P._ While he liv’d, in action,
He has receiv’d weekly intelligence,
Upon my knowledge, out of the Low Countries,
For all parts of the world, in cabbages; 70
And those dispens’d again to ambassadors,
In oranges, musk-melons, apricots,
Lemons, pome-citrons, and such-like; sometimes
In Colchester oysters, and your Selsey cockles.

_Per._ You make me wonder.

_Sir P._ Sir, upon my knowledge. 75
Nay, I’ve observ’d him, at your public ordinary,
Take his advertisement[1591] from a traveller,
A conceal’d statesman, in a trencher of meat;
And instantly, before the meal was done,
Convey an answer in a tooth-pick.

_Per._ Strange! 80
How could this be, sir?

_Sir P._ Why, the meat was cut
So like his character, and so laid as he
Must easily read the cipher.

_Per._ I have heard,
He could not read, sir.

_Sir P._ So ’t was given out,
In policy, by those that did employ him: 85
But he could read, and had your languages,
And to ’t, as sound a noddle——

_Per._ I have heard, sir,
That your baboons were spies, and that they were
A kind of subtle nation near to China.

_Sir P._ Ay, ay, your Mamaluchi. Faith, they had 90
Their hand in a French plot or two; but they
Were so extremely giv’n to women, as
They made discovery of all: yet I
Had my advices here, on Wednesday last,
From one of their own coat, they were return’d,
Made their relations, as the fashion is, 96
And now stand fair for fresh employment.

_Per._ [_Aside._] Heart!
This Sir Pol will be ignorant of nothing.——
It seems, sir, you know all.

_Sir P._ Not all, sir; but
I have some general notions. I do love 100
To note and to observe: though I live out,
Free from the active torrent, yet I ’d mark
The currents and the passages of things
For mine own private use; and know the ebbs
And flows of state.

_Per._ Believe it, sir. I hold 105
Myself in no small tie[1592] unto my fortunes,
For casting me thus luckily upon you,
Whose knowledge, if your bounty equal it,
May do me great assistance, in instruction
For my behaviour, and my bearing, which 110
Is yet so rude and raw.

_Sir P._ Why? came you forth
Empty of rules for travel?

_Per._ Faith, I had
Some common ones, from out that vulgar grammar,
Which he that cri’d Italian to me, taught me.

_Sir P._ Why, this it is that spoils all our brave bloods, 115
Trusting our hopeful gentry unto pedants,
Fellows of outside, and mere bark. You seem
To be a gentleman of ingenuous race:——
I not profess it, but my fate hath been
To be, where I have been consulted with, 120
In this high kind, touching some great men’s sons,
Persons of blood and honour.——

_Per._ Who be these, sir?

SCENE II.

[_To them enter_] MOSCA _and_ NANO [_disguised_, _followed by persons with materials for erecting a stage_.]

_Mos._ Under that window, there ’t must be. The same.

_Sir P._ Fellows, to mount a bank. Did your instructor
In the dear tongues, never discourse to you
Of the Italian mountebanks?

_Per._ Yes, sir.

_Sir P._ Why,
Here shall you see one.

_Per._ They are quacksalvers,
Fellows that live by venting oils and drugs. 6

_Sir P._ Was that the character he gave you of them?

_Per._ As I remember.

_Sir. P._ Pity his ignorance.
They are the only knowing men of Europe!
Great general scholars, excellent physicians, 10
Most admir’d statesmen, profest favourites
And cabinet counsellors to the greatest princes;
The only languag’d men of all the world!

_Per._ And, I have heard, they are most lewd[1593] impostors;
Made all of terms and shreds; no less beliers 15
Of great men’s favours, than their own vile medicines;
Which they will utter upon monstrous oaths;
Selling that drug for twopence, ere they part,
Which they have valu’d at twelve crowns before.

_Sir P._ Sir, calumnies are answer’d best with silence. 20
Yourself shall judge.—Who is it mounts, my friends?

_Mos._ Scoto of Mantua,[1594] sir.

_Sir P._ Is ’t he? Nay, then
I ’ll proudly promise, sir, you shall behold
Another man than has been phant’sied[1595] to you.
I wonder yet, that he should mount his bank, 25
Here in this nook, that has been wont t’ appear
In face of the Piazza!—Here he comes.

[_Enter_ VOLPONE, _disguised as a mountebank Doctor_, _and followed by a crowd of people_.]

_Volp._ Mount, zany. [_To_ NANO.]

_Mob._ Follow, follow, follow, follow!

_Sir P._ See how the people follow him! he’s a man 30
May write ten thousand crowns in bank here. Note,
[VOLPONE _mounts the stage_.]
Mark but his gesture:—I do use to observe
The state he keeps in getting up.

_Per._ ’T is worth it, sir.

_Volp._ “Most noble gentlemen, and my (34) worthy patrons! It may
seem strange that I, your Scoto Mantuano, who was ever wont to fix
my bank in the face of the public Piazza, near the shelter of the
Portico to the Procuratia, should now, after eight months’ absence
from (40) this illustrious city of Venice, humbly retire myself into
an obscure nook of the Piazza.”

_Sir P._ Did not I now object the same?

_Per._ Peace, sir.

_Volp._ “Let me tell you: I am not, as your Lombard proverb saith,
cold on my feet; or (45) content to part with my commodities at a
cheaper rate than I am accustom’d: look not for it. Nor that the
calumnious reports of that impudent detractor, and shame to our
profession (Alessandro Buttone, I mean), who gave (50) out, in
public, I was condemn’d _a’ sforzato_[1596] to the galleys, for
poisoning the Cardinal Bembo’s—cook, hath at all attach’d, much less
dejected me. No, no, worthy gentlemen; to tell you true, I cannot
endure to see the rabble of (55) these ground _ciarlitani_,[1597]
that spread their cloaks on the pavement, as if they meant to do
feats of activity, and then come in lamely, with their mouldy tales
out of Boccacio, like stale Tabarin,[1598] the fabulist: some of them
discoursing (60) their travels, and of their tedious captivity in the
Turk’s galleys, when, indeed, were the truth known, they were the
Christian’s galleys, where very temperately they eat bread, and drunk
water, as a wholesome penance, enjoin’d them (65) by their confessors,
for base pilferies.”

_Sir P._ Note but his bearing, and contempt of these.

_Volp._ “These turdy-facy-nasty-paty-lousy-fartical (69) rogues,
with one poor groat’s-worth of unprepar’d antimony, finely wrapt
up in several _scartoccios_,[1599] are able, very well, to kill
their twenty a week, and play; yet these meagre, starv’d spirits,
who have half stopt the organs (74) of their minds with earthy
oppilations,[1600] want not their favourers among your shrivell’d
salad-eating artisans, who are overjoy’d that they may have their
half-pe’rth of physic; though it purge ’em into another world, ’t
makes no matter.”

_Sir P._ Excellent! ha’ you heard better language, sir? 80

_Volp._ “Well, let ’em go. And, gentlemen, honourable gentlemen,
know, that for this time, our bank, being thus removed from the
clamours of the _canaglia_[1601] shall be the scene of pleasure and
delight; for I have nothing (85) to sell, little or nothing to sell.”

_Sir P._ I told you, sir, his end.

_Per._ You did so, sir.

_Volp._ “I protest. I, and my six servants, are not able to
make of this precious liquor so fast (90) as it is fetch’d away
from my lodging by gentlemen of your city; strangers of the
Terra-firma;[1602] worshipful merchants; ay, and senators too: who,
ever since my arrival, have detain’d me to their uses, by their
splendidous liberalities. (95) And worthily; for, what avails your
rich man to have his magazines stuft with _moscadelli_, or of the
purest grape, when his physicians prescribe him, on pain of death, to
drink (99) nothing but water cocted[1603] with aniseeds? O health!
health! the blessing of the rich! the riches of the poor! who can
buy thee at too dear a rate, since there is no enjoying this world
without thee? Be not then so sparing of your purses, honourable
gentlemen, as to abridge the natural course of life——” 105

_Per._ You see his end.

_Sir P._ Ay, is’t not good?

_Volp._ “For when a humid flux, or catarrh, by the mutability of air,
falls from your head into an arm or shoulder, or any other part;
take you a ducket, or your chequin of gold, and (110) apply to the
place affected: see what good effect it can work. No, no, ’t is this
blessed _unguento_,[1604] this rare extraction, that hath only power
to disperse all malignant humours, that proceed either of hot, cold,
moist, or windy causes——” 115

_Per._ I would he had put in dry too.

_Sir P._ Pray you observe.

_Volp._ “To fortify the most indigest and crude stomach, ay, were
it of one that, through extreme weakness, vomited blood, applying
only (120) a warm napkin to the place, after the unction and
fricace;[1605]—for the _vertigine_[1606] in the head, putting
but a drop into your nostrils, likewise behind the ears; a most
sovereign and approv’d (124) remedy; the _mal caduco_,[1607] cramps,
convulsions, paralyses, epilepsies, _tremorcordia_, retir’d nerves,
ill vapours of the spleen, stoppings of the liver, the stone,
the strangury, _hernia ventosa_, _iliaca passio_;[1608] stops a
_dysenteria_ immediately; easeth the torsion[1609] of the small (130)
guts; and cures _melancholia hypocondriaca_, being taken and appli’d,
according to my printed receipt. (_Pointing to his bill and his
glass._) For this is the physician, this the medicine; this counsels,
this cures; this gives the direction, (135) this works the effect;
and, in sum, both together may be term’d an abstract of the theoric
and practic in the Aesculapian art. ’T will cost you eight crowns.
And,—Zan Fritada, prithee sing a verse extempore in honour of it.”
140

_Sir P._ How do you like him, sir?

_Per._ Most strangely, I!

_Sir P._ Is not his language rare?

_Per._ But alchemy,
I never heard the like; or Broughton’s[1610] books.

[NANO _sings_.]

Had old Hippocrates, or Galen,
That to their books put med’cines all in, 145
But known this secret, they had never
(Of which they will be guilty ever)
Been murderers of so much paper,
Or wasted many a hurtless taper;
No Indian drug had e’er been fam’d, 150
Tobacco, sassafras not nam’d.
Ne yet of guacum one small stick, sir,
Nor Raymund Lully’s[1611] great elixir.
Ne had been known the Danish Gonswart,[1612]
Or Paracelsus, with his long sword.[1613] 155

_Per._ All this, yet, will not do; eight crowns is high.

_Volp._ “No more.—Gentlemen, if I had but time to discourse to you
the miraculous effects of this my oil, surnam’d Oglio del Scoto;
with the countless catalogue of those I have (160) cur’d of th’
aforesaid, and many more diseases; the patents and privileges of all
the princes and commonwealths of Christendom; or but the depositions
of those that appear’d on my part, before the signiory of the Sanita
and most (165) learned College of Physicians; where I was authoris’d,
upon notice taken of the admirable virtues of my medicaments, and
mine own excellency in matter of rare and unknown secrets, not only
to disperse them publicly in this (170) famous city, but in all
the territories, that happily joy under the government of the most
pious and magnificent states of Italy. But may some other gallant
fellow say, ’O, there be divers that make profession to have as
good, (175) and as experimented receipts as yours: indeed, very
many have assay’d, like apes, in imitation of that, which is really
and essentially in me, to make of this oil; bestow’d great cost in 179
furnaces, stills, alembics, continual fires, and preparation
of the ingredients (as indeed there goes to it six hundred several
simples, besides some quantity of human fat, for the conglutination,
which we buy of the anatomists), but when these practitioners come
to the last decoction, (185) blow, blow, puff, puff, and all flies
in fumo:[1614] ha, ha, ha! Poor wretches! I rather pity their folly
and indiscretion, than their loss of time and money; for those may be
recover’d by industry: but to be a fool born, is a disease incurable.
191
“For myself, I always from my youth have endeavour’d to get the
rarest secrets, and book them, either in exchange, or for money; I
spar’d nor cost nor labour, where anything (195) was worthy to be
learned. And, gentlemen, honourable gentlemen, I will undertake, by
virtue of chymical art, out of the honourable hat that covers your
head, to extract the four elements; that is to say, the fire, air,
water, (200) and earth, and return you your felt without burn or
stain. For, whilst others have been at the _ballo_,[1615] I have been
at my book; and am now past the craggy paths of study, and come to
the flowery plains of honour and reputation.” 205

_Sir P._ I do assure you, sir, that is his aim.

_Volp._ “But to our price——”

_Per._ And that withal, Sir Pol.

_Volp._ “You all know, honourable gentlemen, I never valu’d this
_ampulla_, or vial, at less than eight crowns; but for this time,
I am content (210) to be depriv’d of it for six; six crowns is the
price, and less in courtesy I know you cannot offer me; take it or
leave it, howsoever, both it and I am at your service. I ask you
not as the value of the thing, for then I should demand (215) of you
a thousand crowns, so the Cardinals Montalto, Fernese, the great Duke
of Tuscany, my gossip,[1616] with divers other princes, have given
me; but I despise money. Only to show my affection to you, honourable
gentlemen, (220) and your illustrious State here, I have neglected
the messages of these princes, mine own offices, fram’d my journey
hither, only to present you with the fruits of my travels.—Tune
(225) your voices once more to the touch of your instruments, and
give the honourable assembly some delightful recreation.”

_Per._ What monstrous and most painful circumstance
Is here, to get some three or four gazettes,[1617]
Some threepence i’ the whole! for that ’t will come to. 230

[NANO _sings_.]

You that would last long, list to my song,
Make no more coil, but buy of this oil.
Would you be ever fair and young?
Stout of teeth, and strong of tongue?
Tart of palate? quick of ear? 235
Sharp of sight? of nostril clear?
Moist of hand? and light of foot?
Or, I will come nearer to ’t,
Would you live free from all diseases?
Do the act your mistress pleases, 240
Yet fright all aches[1618] from your bones?
Here ’s a med’cine for the nones.[1619]

_Volp._ “Well, I am in a humour at this time to make a present of
the small quantity my coffer contains; to the rich in courtesy, and
(245) to the poor for God’s sake. Wherefore now mark: I ask’d you six
crowns; and six crowns, at other times, you have paid me; you shall
not give me six crowns, nor five, nor four, nor three, nor two, nor
one; nor half a ducat; no, nor a (250) _moccinigo_.[1620] Sixpence
it will cost you, or six hundred pound—expect no lower price, for,
by the banner of my front, I will not bate a bagatine,[1621]—that
I will have, only, a pledge of your loves, to carry something from
amongst you, to (255) show I am not contemn’d by you. Therefore, now,
toss your handkerchiefs, cheerfully, cheerfully; and be advertis’d,
that the first heroic spirit that deigns to grace me with a
handkerchief, I will give it a little remembrance of (260) something
beside, shall please it better than if I had presented it with a
double pistolet.”[1622]

_Per._ Will you be that heroic spark, Sir Pol?
CELIA, _at the window, throws down her handkerchief_.
O, see! the windore has prevented[1623] you.

_Volp._ “Lady, I kiss your bounty; and for (265) this timely grace
you have done your poor Scoto of Mantua, I will return you, over and
above my oil, a secret of that high and inestimable nature, shall
make you forever enamour’d on that minute, wherein your eye first
descended (270) on so mean, yet not altogether to be despis’d, an
object. Here is a powder conceal’d in this paper, of which, if I
should speak to the worth, nine thousand volumes were but as one
page, that page as a line, that line as a word; (275) so short is
this pilgrimage of man (which some call life) to the expressing of
it. Would I reflect on the price? Why, the whole world is but as an
empire, that empire as a province, that province as a bank, that bank
as a private purse (280) to the purchase of it. I will only tell you;
it is the powder that made Venus a goddess (given her by Apollo),
that kept her perpetually young, clear’d her wrinkles, firm’d her
gums, fill’d her skin, colour’d her hair; from her deriv’d (285) to
Helen, and at the sack of Troy unfortunately lost: till now, in this
our age, it was as happily recover’d, by a studious antiquary, out of
some ruins of Asia, who sent a moiety of it to the court of France
(but much (290) sophisticated), wherewith the ladies there now colour
their hair. The rest, at this present, remains with me; extracted
to a quintessence: so that, wherever it but touches, in youth it
perpetually preserves, in age restores the complexion; (295) seats
your teeth, did they dance like virginal jacks,[1624] firm as a wall:
makes them white as ivory, that were black as——”

SCENE III.[1625]

[_To them enter_] CORVINO.

_Cor._ Spite o’ the devil, and my shame! come down here;
Come down!—No house but mine to make your scene?
Signior Flaminio, will you down, sir? down?
What, is my wife your Franciscina, sir?
No windows on the whole Piazza, here, 5
To make your properties, but mine? but mine?
_Beats away_ [VOLPONE, NANO, _etc._]
Heart! ere to-morrow I shall be new christen’d,
And called the Pantalone di Besogniosi,[1626]
About the town.

_Per._ What should this mean. Sir Pol?

_Sir P._ Some trick of state, believe it; I will home. 10

_Per._ It may be some design on you.

_Sir P._ I know not.
I ’ll stand upon my guard.

_Per._ It is your hest, sir.

_Sir P._ This three weeks, all my advices, all my letters,
They have been intercepted.

_Per._ Indeed, sir!
Best have a care.

_Sir P._ Nay, so I will.

_Per._ This knight, 15
I may not lose him, for my mirth, till night.
[_Exeunt._]

SCENE IV. [1627]

[_Enter_] VOLPONE, MOSCA.

_Volp._ O, I am wounded!

_Mos._ Where, sir?

_Volp._ Not without;
Those blows were nothing: I could bear them ever.
But angry Cupid, bolting from her eyes,
Hath shot himself into me like a flame;
Where now he flings about his burning heat, 5
As in a furnaces an ambitious fire
Whose vent is stopt. The fight is all within me.
I cannot live, except thou help me, Mosca;
My liver melts, and I, without the hope
Of some soft air from her refreshing breath, 10
Am but a heap of cinders.

_Mos._ ’Las, good sir,
Would you had never seen her!

_Volp._ Nay, would thou
Hadst never told me of her!

_Mos._ Sir, ’t is true;
I do confess I was unfortunate,
And you unhappy; but I ’m bound in conscience, 15
No less than duty, to effect my best
To your release of torment, and I will, sir.

_Volp._ Dear Mosca, shall I hope?

_Mos._ Sir, more than dear,
I will not bid you to despair of aught
Within a human compass.

_Volp._ O, there spoke 20
My better angel. Mosca, take my keys,
Gold, plate, and jewels, all ’s at thy devotion;
Employ them how thou wilt: nay, coin me too:
So thou in this but crown my longings, Mosca.

_Mos._ Use but your patience.

_Volp._ So I have.

_Mos._ I doubt not, 25
To bring success to your desires.

_Volp._ Nay, then,
I not repent me of my late disguise.

_Mos._ If you can horn him, sir, you need not.

_Volp._ True:
Besides, I never meant him for my heir.
Is not the colour o’ my beard and eyebrows 30
To make me known?

_Mos._ No jot.

_Volp._ I did it well.

_Mos._ So well, would I could follow you in mine,
With half the happiness! and yet I would
Escape your epilogue.[1628]

_Volp._ But were they gull’d
With a belief that I was Scoto?

_Mos._ Sir, 35
Scoto himself could hardly have distinguish’d!
I have not time to flatter you now; we ’ll part:
And as I prosper, so applaud my art. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE V.[1629]

[_Enter_] CORVINO, [_with his sword in his hand, dragging in_] CELIA.

_Corv._ Death of mine honour, with the city’s fool!
A juggling, tooth-drawing, prating mountebank!
And at a public windore! where, whilst he,
With his strain’d action, and his dole of faces,[1630]
To his drug-lecture draws your itching ears, 5
A crew of old, unmarri’d, noted lechers,
Stood leering up like satyrs: and you smile
Most graciously, and fan your favours forth,
To give your hot spectators satisfaction!
What, was your mountbank their call? their whistle? 10
Or were you enamour’d on his copper rings,
His saffron jewel, with the toad-stone in ’t,
Or his embroid’red suit, with the cope-stitch,
Made of a hearse cloth? or his old tilt-feather?
Or his starch’d beard! Well, you shall have him, yes! 15
He shall come home, and minister unto you
The fricace for the mother.[1631] Or, let me see,
I think you ’d rather mount; would you not mount?
Why, if you ’ll mount, you may; yes, truly, you may!
And so you may be seen, down to the foot. 20
Get you a cittern, Lady Vanity,
And be a dealer with the virtuous man;
Make one. I ’ll but protest myself a cuckold,
And save your dowry. I ’m a Dutchman, I!
For if you thought me an Italian, 25
You would be damn’d ere you did this, you whore!
Thou ’dst tremble to imagine that the murder
Of father, mother, brother, all thy race,
Should follow, as the subject of my justice.

_Cel._ Good sir, have patience.

_Corv._ What couldst thou propose[1632] 30
Less to thyself, than in this heat of wrath,
And stung with my dishonour, I should strike
This steel into thee, with as many stabs
As thou wert gaz’d upon with goatish eyes?

_Cel._ Alas, sir, be appeas’d! I could not think
My being at the windore should more now 36
Move your impatience than at other times.

_Corv._ No! not to seek and entertain a parley
With a known knave, before a multitude!
You were an actor with your handkerchief, 40
Which he most sweetly kist in the receipt,
And might, no doubt, return it with a letter,
And point the place where you might meet; your sister’s,
Your mother’s, or your aunt’s might serve the turn.

_Cel._ Why, dear sir, when do I make these excuses, 45
Or ever stir abroad, but to the church?
And that so seldom——

_Corv._ Well, it shall be less;
And thy restraint before was liberty,
To what I now decree: and therefore mark me.
First, I will have this bawdy light damm’d up: 50
And till ’t be done, some two or three yards off,
I’ll chalk a line; o’er which if thou but chance
To set thy desp’rate foot, more hell, more horror,
More wild remorseless rage shall seize on thee,
Than on a conjuror that had heedless left 55
His circle’s safety ere his devil was laid.
Then here’s a lock which I will hang upon thee,
And, now I think on ’t, I will keep thee backwards;
Thy lodging shall be backwards: thy walks backwards;
Thy prospect, all be backwards; and no pleasure, 60
That thou shalt know but backwards: nay, since you force
My honest nature, know, it is your own,
Being too open, makes me use you thus:
Since you will not contain your subtle nostrils
In a sweet room, but they must snuff the air 65
Of rank and sweaty passengers. (_Knock within._) One knocks.
Away, and be not seen, pain of thy life;
Nor look toward the windore; if thou dost——
Nay, stay, hear this——let me not prosper, whore,
But I will make thee an anatomy, 70
Dissect thee mine own self, and read a lecture
Upon thee to the city, and in public.
Away!— [_Exit_ CELIA.]
[_Enter_ SERVANT.]
Who ’s there?

_Ser._ ’T is Signior Mosca, sir.

SCENE VI.[1633]

CORVINO. _Enter_ MOSCA.

_Corv._ Let him come in. His master’s dead; there ’s yet
Some good to help the bad.——My Mosca, welcome!
I guess your news.

_Mos._ I fear you cannot, sir.

_Corv._ Is ’t not his death?

_Mos._ Rather the contrary.

_Corv._ Not his recovery?

_Mos._ Yes, sir.

_Corv._ I am curs’d, 5
I am bewitch’d, my crosses meet to vex me.
How? how? how? how?

_Mos._ Why, sir, with Scoto’s oil;
Corbaccio and Voltore brought of it,
Whilst I was busy in an inner room——

_Corv._ Death! that damn’d mountebank! but for the law 10
Now, I could kill the rascal: it cannot be
His oil should have that virtue. Ha’ not I
Known him a common rogue, come fiddling in
To the _osteria_,[1634] with a tumbling whore,
And, when he has done all his forc’d tricks, been glad 15
Of a poor spoonful of dead wine, with flies in ’t?
It cannot be. All his ingredients
Are a sheep’s gall, a roasted bitch’s marrow,
Some few sod[1635] earwigs, pounded caterpillars,
A little capon’s grease, and fasting spittle: 20
I know them to a dram.

_Mos._ I know not, sir;
But some on ’t, there, they pour’d into his ears,
Some in his nostrils, and recover’d him;
Applying but the fricace.

_Corv._ Pox o’ that fricace!

_Mos._ And since, to seem the more officious 25
And flatt’ring of his health, there, they have had,
At extreme fees, the college of physicians
Consulting on him, how they might restore him;
Where one would have a cataplasm[1636] of spices,
Another a flay’d ape clapp’d to his breast, 30
A third would have it a dog, a fourth an oil,
With wild cats’ skins: at last, they all resolv’d
That to preserve him, was no other means
But some young woman must be straight sought out,
Lusty, and full of juice, to sleep by him; 35
And to this service most unhappily,
And most unwillingly, am I now employ’d,
Which here I thought to pre-acquaint you with,
For your advice, since it concerns you most;
Because I would not do that thing might cross
Your ends, on whom I have my whole dependence, sir; 41
Yet, if I do it not they may delate[1637]
My slackness to my patron, work me out
Of his opinion; and there all your hopes,
Ventures, or whatsoever, are all frustrate! 45
I do but tell you, sir. Besides, they are all
Now striving who shall first present him; therefore——
I could entreat you, briefly conclude somewhat;
Prevent ’em if you can.

_Corv._ Death to my hopes.
This is my villanous fortune! Best to hire 50
Some common courtesan.

_Mos._ Ay, I thought on that, sir;
But they are all so subtle, full of art—
And age again doting and flexible,
So as—I cannot tell—we may, perchance,
Light on a quean may cheat us all.

_Corv._ ’T is true. 55

_Mos._ No, no: it must be one that has no tricks, sir,
Some simple thing, a creature made[1638] unto it;
Some wench you may command. Ha’ you no kinswoman?
Gods so—Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, sir.
One o’ the doctors offer’d there his daughter.

_Corv._ How!

_Mos._ Yes, Signior Lupo, the physician. 61

_Corv._ His daughter!

_Mos._ And a virgin, sir. Why, alas,
He knows the state of ’s body, what it is:
That nought can warm his blood, sir, but a fever;
Nor any incantation raise his spirit: 65
A long forgetfulness hath seiz’d that part.
Besides, sir, who shall know it’! Some one or two—

_Corv._ I pray thee give me leave. [_Walks aside._] If any man
But I had had this luck—The thing in ’t self,
I know, is nothing.—Wherefore should not I 70
As well command my blood and my affections
As this dull doctor? In the point of honour,
The cases are all one of wife and daughter.

_Mos._ [_Aside._] I hear him coming.[1639]

_Corv._ She shall do ’t: ’t is done.
Slight! if this doctor, who is not engag’d, 75
Unless ’t be for his counsel, which is nothing,
Offer his daughter, what should I, that am
So deeply in? I will prevent him: Wretch!
Covetous wretch!—Mosca, I have determin’d.

_Mos._ How, sir? 80

_Corv._ We’ll make all sure. The party you wot of
Shall be mine own wife, Mosca.

_Mos._ Sir, the thing,
But that I would not seem to counsel you,
I should have motion’d[1640] to you, at the first:
And make your count,[1641] you have cut all their throats.[1642]
Why, ’t is directly taking a possession! 85
And in his next fit, we may let him go.
’T is but to pull the pillow from his head,
And he is throttled: it had been done before
But for your scrupulous doubts.

_Corv._ Ay, a plague on ’t.
My conscience fools my wit! Well, I’ll be brief, 90
And so be thou, lest they should be before us.
Go home, prepare him, tell him with what zeal
And willingness I do it: swear it was
On the first hearing, as thou mayst do, truly,
Mine own free motion.

_Mos._ Sir, I warrant you, 95
I’ll so possess him with it, that the rest
Of his starv’d clients shall be banish’d all;
And only you receiv’d. But come not, sir,
Until I send, for I have something else
To ripen for your good, you must not know ’t.

_Corv._ But do not you forget to send now.

_Mos._ Fear not. [_Exit._] 101

[SCENE VII.][1643]

CORVINO.

_Corv._ Where are you, wife? My Celia! wife!
[_Enter_ CELIA.]
—What, blubb’ring?
Come, dry those tears. I think thou thought’st me in earnest;
Ha! by this light I talk’d so but to try thee:
Methinks, the lightness of the occasion
Should have confirm’d thee. Come, I am not jealous. 5

_Cel._ No?

_Corv._ Faith I am not, I, nor never was;
It is a poor unprofitable humour.
Do not I know, if women have a will,
They’ll do ’gainst all the watches o’ the world,
And that the fiercest spies are tam’d with gold?
Tut, I am confident in thee, thou shalt see’t; 11
And see I ’ll give thee cause too, to believe it.
Come kiss me. Go, and make thee ready straight,
In all thy best attire, thy choicest jewels,
Put ’em all on, and, with ’em, thy best looks: 15
We are invited to a solemn feast,
At old Volpone’s, where it shall appear
How far I am free from jealousy or fear.
[_Exeunt._]