The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act IIII. (Book 4)

Scene I.

POLITIQVE, PEREGRINE.

I Told you, sir, it was a plot: you see What obseruation is. You mention'd mee, For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met, here in this height of Venice) Some few particulars, I haue set downe, Onely for this meridian; fit to be knowne Of your crude traueller, and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old.

PER.

Sir, I haue better.

POL.

Pardon I meant, as they are theames.

PER.

O, sir, proceed: I'le slander you no more of wit, good sir.

POL.

First, for your garbe, it must be graue, and serious; Very reseru'd, and lock't; not tell a secret, On any termes, not to your father; scarse A fable, but with caution; make sure choise Both of your company, and discourse; beware, You neuer spake a truth—

PER.

How!

POL.

Not to strangers, For those be they you must conuerse with, most; Others I would not know, sir, but, at distance, So as I still might be a fauer, in 'hem: You shall haue tricks, else, past vpon you, hourely. And then, for your religion, professe none; But wonder, at the diuersitie of all; And, for your part, protest, were there no other But simply the lawes o' th' land, you could content you: NIC: MACHIAVEL, and monsieur BODINE, both, Were of this minde. Then, must you learne the vse, And handling of your siluer forke, at meales; The mettall of your glasse: (these are maine matters, With your Italian) and to know the houre, When you must eat your melons, and your figges.

PER.

Is that a point of state, too?

POL.

Here it is. For your Venetian, if he see a man Preposterous, in the least, he has him straight;

He has: he strippes him. I'le acquaint you, sir, I now haue liu'd here ('tis some fourteene monthes) Within the first weeke, of my landing here, All tooke me for a citizen of Venice: I knew the formes, so well—

PER.

And nothing else.

POL.

I had read CONTARENE, tooke me a house, Dealt with my Iewes, to furnish it with moueables— Well, if I could but finde one man, one man, To mine owne heart, whom I durst trust, I would—

PER.

What? what, sir?

POL.

Make him rich; make him a fortune: He should not thinke, againe. I would command it.

PER.

As how?

POL.

With certaine proiects, that I haue: Which, I may not discouer.

PER.

If I had But one to wager with, I would lay odds, now, He tels me, instantly.

POL.

One is, (and that I care not greatly, who knowes) to serue the state Of Venice, with red herrings, for three yeeres, And at a certaine rate, from Roterdam, Where I haue correspondence. There's a letter, Sent me from one o'th' States, and to that purpose; He cannot write his name, but that's his marke.

PER.

He is a chaundler?

POL.

No, a cheesemonger. There are some other too, with whom I treate, About the same negotiation; And, I will vndertake it: For 'tis thus, I'le do't with ease, I' haue cast it all. Your hoigh Carries but three men in her, and a boy; And she shall make me three returnes, a yeare: So, if there come but one of three, I saue, If two, I can defalke. But, this is now, If my mayne proiect faile.

PER.

Then, you haue others?

POL.

I should be loath to draw the subtill ayre Of such a place, without my thousand aymes. Ile not dissemble, sir, where ere I come, I loue to be consideratiue; and, 'tis true, I haue, at my free houres, thought vpon Some certaine goods, vnto the state of Venice, Which I doe call my cautions: and, sir, which I meane (in hope of pension) to propound To the great councell, then vnto the forty, So to the ten. My meanes are made already—

PER.

By whom?

POL.

Sir, one, that though his place b'obscure, Yet, he can sway, and they will heare him. H'is A commandadore.

PER.

What, a common sergeant?

POL.

Sir, such, as they are, put it in their mouthes,

What they should say, sometimes: as well as greater. I thinke I haue my notes, to shew you —

PER.

Good, sir,

POL.

But, you shall sweare vnto me, on your gentry, Not to anticipate—

PER.

I, sir?

POL.

Nor reueale A circumstance—My paper is not with mee.

PER.

O, but, you can remember, sir.

POL.

My first is, Concerning tinder-boxes. You must know, No family is, here, without it's boxe. Now sir, it being so portable a thing, Put case, that you, or I were ill affected Vnto the state; sir, with it in our pockets, Might not I goe into the arsenale? Or you? come out againe? and none the wiser?

PER.

Except your selfe, sir.

POL.

Goe too, then. I, therefore, Aduertise to the state, how fit it were, That none, but such as were knowne patriots, Sound louers of their countrey, should be sufferd T'enioy them in their houses: and, euen those, Seal'd, at some office, and, at such a bignesse, As might not lurke in pockets.

PER.

Admirable!

POL.

My next is, how t'enquire, and be resolu'd, By present demonstration, whether a ship, Newly arriued from Soría, or from Any suspected part of all the leuant, Be guilty of the plague: And, where they vse, To lie out fortie, fifty daies, sometimes, About the Lazaretto, for their triall; Ile saue that charge, and losse vnto the merchant, And, in an houre, cleare the doubt.

PER.

Indeede, sir?

POL.

Or—I will loose my labour.

PER.

'My faith, that's much.

POL.

Nay, sir, conceiue me. 'Twill cost me, in onions, Some thirtie liu'res—

PER.

Which is one pound sterling.

POL.

Beside my water-workes: for this I doe, sir. First, I bring in your ship, 'twixt two brickwalles; (But those the state shall venter) on the one I straine me a faire tarre-paulin; and, in that, I stick my onions, cut in halfes: the other Is full of loope-holes, out at which, I thrust The noses of my bellowes; and, those bellowes I keepe, with water-workes, in perpetuall motion, (Which is the easi'st matter of a hundred) Now, sir, your onion, which doth naturally Attract th' infection, and your bellowes, blowing The ayre vpon him, will shew (instantly) By his chang'd colour, if there be contagion,

Or else, remaine as faire, as at the first. Now 'tis knowne, 'tis nothing.

PER.

You are right, sir.

POL.

I would, I had my note.

PER.

'Faith, so would I: But, you ha' done well, for once, sir.

POL.

Were I false, Or would be made so, I could shew you reasons, How I could sell this state, now, to the Turke; Spight of their galleis, or their —

PER.

Pray you, sir POLL.

POL.

I haue 'hem not, about me.

PER.

That I fear'd. They' are there, sir?

POL.

No, this is my diary, Wherein I note my actions of the day.

PER.

'Pray you, let's see, sir. What is here? notandum, A rat had gnawne my spurre-lethers; notwithstanding, I put on new, and did goe forth: but, first, I threw three beanes ouer the threshold. Item, I went, and bought two tooth-pickes, whereof one I burst, immediatly, in a discourse With a dutch merchant, 'bout ragion del stato. From him I went, and payd a moccinigo, For peecing my silke stockings; by the way, I cheapen'd sprats: and at S^t. MARKES, I vrin'd. 'Faith these are politique notes!

POL.

Sir, I do slippe No action of my life, thus, but I quote it.

PER.

Beleeue me it is wise!

POL.

Nay, sir, read forth.

Act IIII. Scene II.

LADY, NANO, WOMEN, POLITIQVE, PEREGRINE.

WHere should this loose knight be, trow? sure, h'is hous'd.

NAN.

Why, then he's fast.

LAD.

I, he plaies both, with me: I pray you, stay. This heate will doe more harme To my complexion, then his heart is worth. (I do not care to hinder, but to take him) How it comes of!

WOM.

My master's yonder.

LAD.

Where?

WOM.

With a yong gentleman.

LAD.

That same's the party! In mans apparell. 'Pray you, sir, iog my knight: I will be tender to his reputation, How euer he demerit.

POL.

My lady!

PER.

Where?

POL.

'Tis shee indeed, sir, you shall know her. She is, Were she not mine, a lady of that merit, For fashion, and behauiour; and, for beauty I durst compare—

PER.

It seemes, you are not iealous, That dare commend her.

POL.

Nay, and for discourse—

PER.

Being your wife, shee cannot misse that.

POL.

Madame,

Here is a gentleman, 'pray you, vse him, fairely, He seemes a youth, but he is —

LAD.

None?

POL.

Yes, one Has put his face, as soone, into the world—

LAD.

You meane, as earely? but to day?

POL.

How's this!

LAD.

Why in this habit, sir, you apprehend me. Well, master WOVLD-BEE, this doth not become you; I had thought, the odour, sir, of your good name, Had beene more precious to you; that you would not Haue done this dire massacre, on your honour; One of your grauity, and ranke, besides! But, knights, I see, care little for the oath They make to ladies: chiefely, their owne ladies.

POL.

Now, by my spurres (the symbole of my knight-hood)

(PER.

Lord! how his braine is humbled, for an oath)

POL.

I reach you not.

LAD.

Right, sir, your politie May beare it through, thus. Sir, a word with you. I would be loth, to contest publikely, With any gentlewoman; or to seeme Froward, or violent (as the courtier sayes) It comes too neere rusticity, in a lady, Which I would shun, by all meanes: and, how-euer I may deserue from master WOVLD-BEE, yet, T'haue one faire gentlewoman, thus, be made Th'vnkind instrument, to wrong another, And one she knowes not, I, and to perseuer; In my poore iudgement, is not warranted From being a soloecisme in our sexe, If not in manners.

PER.

How is this!

POL.

Sweet madame, Come neerer to your ayme.

LAD.

Mary, and will, sir. Since you prouoke me, with your impudence, And laughter of your light land-siren, here, Your SPORVS, your hermaphrodite—

PER.

What's here? Poetique fury, and historique stormes!

POL.

The gentleman, beleeue it, is of worth, And of our nation.

LAD.

I, your white-Friers nation? Come, I blush for you, master WOVLD-BEE, I; And am asham'd, you should ha' no more forehead, Then, thus, to be the patron, or S^t. GEORGE To a lewd harlot, a base fricatrice, A female deuill, in a male out-side.

POL.

Nay, And you be such a one! I must bid adieu To your delights. The case appeares too liquide.

LAD.

I, you may carry't cleare, with your state-face! But, for your carniuale concupiscence, Who here is fled for liberty of conscience,

From furious persecution of the Marshall, Her will I disc'ple.

PER.

This is fine, i'faith! And do you vse this, often? is this part Of your wits exercise, 'gainst you haue occasion? Madam—

LAD.

Go to, sir.

PER.

Do you heare me, lady? Why, if your knight haue set you to begge shirts, Or to inuite me home, you might haue done it A neerer way, by farre.

LAD.

This cannot work you, Out of my snare.

PER.

Why? am I in it, then? Indeede, your husband told me, you were faire, And so you are; onely your nose enclines (That side, that's next the sunne) to the queene-apple.

LAD.

This cannot be endur'd, by any patience.

Act IIII. Scene III.

MOSCA, LADY, PEREGRINE.

WHat's the matter, madame?

LAD.

If the Senate Right not my quest, in this; I will protest 'hem, To all the world, no aristocracie.

MOS.

What is the iniurie, lady?

LAD.

Why, the callet, You told me of, here I haue tane disguis'd.

MOS.

Who? this? what meanes your ladiship? the creature I mention'd to you, is apprehended, now, Before the Senate, you shall see her—

LAD.

Where?

MOS.

I'le bring you to her. This yong gentleman I saw him land, this morning, at the port.

LAD.

Is't possible! how has my iudgement wander'd! Sir, I must, blushing, say to you, I haue err'd: And plead your pardon.

PER.

What! more changes, yet?

LAD.

I hope, yo' ha' not the malice to remember A gentlewomans passion. If you stay, In Venice, here, please you to vse me, sir—

MOS.

Will you go, madame?

LAD.

'Pray you, sir, vse mee. In faith, The more you see me, the more I shall conceiue, You haue forgot our quarrell.

PER.

This is rare! Sir POLITIQV•• WOVLD-BEE? no, sir POLITIQVE bawd! To bring me, th•••••• acquainted with his wife! Well, wise sir POL: since you haue practis'd, thus, Vpon my freshman-ship, I'le trie your salt-head, What proofe it is against a counter-plot.

Act IIII. Scene IIII.

VOLTORE, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, MOSCA.

WEll, now you know the carriage of the businesse, Your constancy is all, that is requir'd Vnto the safety of it.

MOS.

Is the lie Safely conuai'd amongst vs? is that sure? Knowes euery man his burden?

CORV.

Yes.

MOS.

Then, shrink not.

CORV.

But, knowes the Aduocate the truth?

MOS.

O, sir, By no meanes. I deuis'd a formall tale, That salu'd your reputation. But, be valiant, sir.

CORV.

I feare no one, but him; that, this his pleading Should make him stand for a co-heire—

MOS.

Co-halter. Hang him: we will but vse his tongue, his noise, As we doe croakers, here.

CORV.

I, what shall he do?

MOS.

When we ha' done, you meane?

CORV.

Yes.

MOS.

Why, we'll thinke, Sell him for mummia. hee's halfe dust already.

To Voltore.

Do not you smile, to see this buffalo, How he doth sport it with his head? — I' should

To Corbac••io.

If all were well, and past. Sir, onely you Are he, that shall enioy the crop of all, And these not know for whom they toile.

CORB.

I, peace.

MOS.

To Coruino, then to Voltore a∣gaine.

But you shall eate it. Much! Worshipfull sir, MERCVRY sit vpon your thundring tongue, Or the French HERCVLES, and make your language As conquering as his club, to beate along, (As with a tempest) flat, our aduersaries: But, much more, yours, sir.

VOLT.

Here they come, ha' done.

MOS.

I haue another witnesse, if you neede, sir, I can produce.

VOLT.

Who is it?

MOS.

Sir, I haue her.

Act IIII. Scene V.

AVOCATORI, 4. BONARIO, CELIA, VOLTORE, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, MOSCA, NOTARIO, COMMANDADORI.

THe like of this the Senate neuer heard of.

AVOC. 2.

'Twil come most strange to them, when we report it.

AVOC. 4.

The gentlewoman has beene euer held Of vn-reproued name.

AVOC. 3.

So, the yong man.

AVOC. 4.

The more vnnaturall part that of his father.

AVOC. 2.

More of the husband.

AVOC. 1.

I not know to giue

His act a name, it is so monstrous!

AVOC. 4.

But the impostor, he is a thing created T'exceed example!

AVOC.

And all after times!

AVOC. 2.

I neuer heard a true voluptuary Describ'd, but him.

AVOC. 3.

Appeare yet those were cited?

NOTA.

All, but the old magnifico, VOLPONE.

AVOC. 1.

Why is not hee here?

MOS.

Please your father-hoods, Here is his Aduocate. Himselfe's, so weake, So feeble—

AVOC. 4.

What are you?

BON.

His parasite, His knaue, his pandar: I beseech the court, He may be forc'd to come, that your graue eyes May beare strong witnesse of his strange impostures.

VOLT.

Vpon my faith, and credit, with your vertues, He is not able to endure the ayre.

AVO. 2.

Bring him, how euer.

AVO. 3.

We will see him.

AVO. 4.

Fetch him.

VOLT.

Your father-hoods fit pleasures be obey'd, But sure, the sight will rather mooue your pitties, Then indignation; may it please the court, In the meane time, he may be heard in me: I know this place most voide of preiudice, And therefore craue it, since we haue no reason To feare our truth should hurt our cause.

AVOC. 3.

Speak free.

VOLT.

Then know, most honor'd fathers, I must now Discouer, to your strangely' abused eares, The most prodigious, and most frontlesse piece Of solid impudence, and trecherie, That euer vicious nature yet brought foorth To shame the state of Venice. This lewd woman (That wants no artificiall lookes, or teares, To helpe the visor, she has now put on) Hath long beene knowne a close adulteresse, To that lasciuious youth there; not suspected, I say, but knowne; and taken, in the act; With him; and by this man, the easie husband, Pardon'd: whose timelesse bounty makes him, now, Stand here, the most vnhappie, innocent person, That euer mans owne goodnesse made accus'd. For these, not knowing how to owe a gift Of that deare grace, but with their shame; being plac'd So' aboue all powers of their gratitude, Began to hate the benefit: and, in place Of thankes, deuise t'extirpe the memorie Of such an act. Wherein, I pray your father-hoods, To obserue the malice, yea, the rage of creatures Discouer'd in their euils; and what heart

Such take, euen, from their crimes. But that, anone, Will more appeare. This gentleman, the father, Hearing of this foule fact, with many others, VVhich dayly strooke at his too-tender eares, And, grieu'd in nothing more, then that he could not Preserue him selfe a parent (his sonnes ills Growing to that strange floud) at last decreed To dis-inherit him.

AVOC. 1.

These be strange turnes!

AVOC. 2.

The yong mans fame was euer faire, and honest.

VOLT.

So much more full of danger is his vice, That can beguile so, vnder shade of vertue. But as I said (my honour'd sires) his father Hauing this setled purpose, (by what meanes To him betray'd, we know not) and this day Appointed for the deed; that parricide, (I cannot stile him better) by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Entred VOLPONE'S house (who was the man Your father-hoods must vnderstand, design'd For the inheritance) there, sought his father: But, with what purpose sought he him, my lords? (I tremble to pronounce it, that a sonne Vnto a father, and to such a father Should haue so foule, felonious intent) It was, to murder him. When, being preuented By his more happy absence, what then did he? Not check his wicked thoughts; no, now new deeds: (Mischiefe doth euer end, where it begins) An act of horror, fathers! he drag'd forth The aged gentleman, that had there lien, bed-red, Three yeeres, and more, out off his innocent couch, Naked, vpon the floore, there left him; wounded His seruant in the face; and, with this strumpet The stale to his forg'd practise, who was glad To be so actiue, (I shall here desire Your father-hoods to note but my collections, As most remarkable) thought, at once, to stop His fathers ends; discredit his free choice, In the old gentleman; redeeme themselues, By laying infamy vpon this man, To whom, with blushing, they should owe their liues.

AVOC. 1.

What proofes haue you of this?

BON.

Most honour'd fathers, I humbly craue, there be no credit giuen To this mans mercenary tongue.

AVOC. 2.

Forbeare.

BON.

His soule moues in his fee.

AVOC. 3.

O, sir.

BON.

This fel∣low,

For six sols more, would pleade against his maker.

AVOC. 1.

You do forget your selfe.

VOLT.

Nay, nay, graue fathers, Let him haue scope: can any man imagine That he will spare' his accuser, that would not Haue spar'd his parent?

AVO. 1.

Well, produce your proofes.

CEL.

I would I could forget, I were a creature.

VOLT.

Signior CORBACCIO.

AVO. 4.

What is he?

VOLT.

The father.

AVO. 2.

Has he had an oth?

NOT.

Yes.

CORB.

What must I do now?

NOT.

Your testimony's crau'd.

CORB.

Speake to the knaue? I'le ha' my mouth, first, stopt with earth; my heart Abhors his knowledge: I disclaime in him.

AVO. 1.

But, for what cause?

CORB.

The meere portent of nature. He is an vtter stranger, to my loines.

BON.

Haue they made you to this!

CORB.

I will not heare thee, Monster of men, swine, goate, wolfe, parricide, Speake not, thou viper.

BON.

Sir, I will sit downe, And rather wish my innocence should suffer, Then I resist the authority of a father.

VOLT.

Signior CORVINO.

AVO. 2.

This is strange!

AVO. 1.

Who's this?

NOT.

The husband.

AVO. 4.

Is he sworn?

NOT.

He is.

AVO. 3.

Speak then.

CORV.

This woman (please your father-hoods) is a whore, Of most hot exercise, more then a partrich, Vpon record—

AVO. 1.

No more.

CORV.

Neighes, like a iennet.

NOT.

Preserue the honour of the court.

CORV.

I shall, And modestie of your most reuerend eares. And, yet, I hope that I may say, these eyes Haue seene her glew'd vnto that peece of cedar; That fine well-timber'd gallant: and that, here, The letters may be read, thorough the horne, That make the story perfect.

MOS.

Excellent! sir.

CORV.

There is no shame in this, now, is there?

MOS.

None.

CORV.

Or if I said, I hop'd that she were onward To her damnation, if there be a hell Greater then whore, and woman; a good catholique May make the doubt.

AVO. 3.

His griefe hath made him frantique.

AVO. 1.

She swownes.

Remoue him, hence.

AVO. 2.

Looke to the woman.

CORV.

Prettily fain'd! againe!

AVO. 4.

Stand from about her.

AVO. 1.

Giue her the ayre.

AVO. 3.

What can you say?

MOS.

My wound Rare! (May't please your wisdomes) speakes for me, receiu'd In ayde of my good patron, when he mist His sought-for father, when that well-taught dame Had her eue giuen her, to cry out a rape.

BON.

O, most lay'd impudence! Fathers—

AVO. 3.

Sir, be silent, You had your hearing free, so must they theirs.

AVO. 2.

I do begin to doubt th' imposture here.

AVO. 4.

This woman, has too many moodes.

VOLT.

Graue fathers, She is a creature, of a most profest, And prostituted lewdnesse.

CORV.

Most impetuous! Vnsatisfied, graue fathers!

VOLT.

May her fainings Not take your wisdomes: but, this day, she baited A stranger, a graue knight, with her loose eyes, And more lasciuious kisses. This man saw 'hem Together, on the water, in a gondola.

MOS.

Here is the lady her selfe, that saw 'hem too, Without; who, then, had in the open streets Pursu'd them, but for sauing her knights honour.

AVO. 1.

Produce that lady.

AVO. 2.

Let her come.

AVO. 4.

These things, They strike, with wonder!

AVO. 3.

I am turn'd a stone!

Act IIII. Scene VI.

MOSCA, LADY, AVOCATORI, &c.

BEe resolute, madame.

LAD.

I, this same is shee. Out, thou chameleon harlot; now, thine eies Vie teares with the hyaena: dar'st thou looke Vpon my wronged face? I cry your pardons. I feare, I haue (forgettingly) transgrest Against the dignitie of the court—

AVO. 2.

No, madame.

LAD.

And beene exorbitant—

AVO. 4.

You haue not, lady.

AVO. 4.

These proofes are strong.

LAD.

Surely, I had no purpose: To scandalize your honours, or my sexes.

AVO. 3.

VVe do beleeue it.

LAD.

Surely, you may beleeue it.

AVO. 2.

Madame, we do.

LAD.

Indeede, you may; my breeding Is not so course—

AVO. 4.

VVe know it.

LAD.

To offend VVith pertinacy—

AVO. 3.

Lady.

LAD.

Such a presence: No, surely.

AVO. 1.

VVe well thinke it.

LAD.

You may thinke it.

AVO. 1.

Let her o'recome. VVhat witnesses haue you, To make good your report?

BON.

Our consciences.

CEL.

And heauen, that neuer failes the innocent.

AVO. 4.

These are no testimonies.

BON.

Not in your courts, VVhere multitude, and clamour ouercomes.

AVO. 1.

Nay, then you do waxe insolent.

VOLT.

Here, here,

Volpone is brought in, as impotent.

The testimonie comes, that will conuince, And put to vtter dumbnesse their bold tongues. See here, graue fathers, here's the rauisher, The rider on mens wiues, the great impostor, The grand voluptuary! do you not think, These limbes should affect venery? or these eyes

Couet a concubine? 'pray you, marke these hands. Are they not fit to stroake a ladies brests? Perhaps, he doth dissemble?

BON.

So he do's.

VOLT.

Would you ha' him tortur'd?

BON.

I would haue him prou'd.

VOLT.

Best try him, then, with goades, or burning Irons; Put him to the strappado: I haue heard, The racke hath cur'd the gout, faith, giue it him, And helpe him of a maladie, be courteous. I'le vndertake, before these honour'd fathers, He shall haue, yet, as many left diseases, As she has knowne adulterers, or thou strumpets. O, my most equall hearers, if these deedes, Acts, of this bold, and most exorbitant straine, May passe with sufferance, what one citizen, But owes the forfeit of his life, yea fame, To him that dares traduce him? which of you Are safe, my honour'd fathers? I would aske (With leaue of your graue father-hoods) if their plot Haue any face, or colour like to truth? Or if, vnto the dullest nostrill, here, It smell not rancke, and most abhorred slander? I craue your care of this good gentleman, Whose life is much indanger'd, by their fable; And, as for them, I will conclude with this, That vicious persons when they are hot, and flesh'd In impious acts, their constancy abounds: Damn'd deeds are done with greatest confidence.

AVOC. 1.

Take 'hem to custody, and seuer them.

AVOC. 2.

'Tis pittie, two such prodigies should liue.

AVOC. 1.

Let the old gentleman be return'd, with care: I'am sorry, our credulitie wrong'd him.

AVO. 4.

These are two creatures!

AVO. 3.

I haue an earthquake in me!

AVO. 2.

Their shame (euen in their cradles) fled their faces.

AVO. 4.

You' haue done a worthy seruice to the state, sir, In their discouerie.

AVO. 1.

You shall heare, ere night, What punishment the court decrees vpon 'hem.

VOLT.

We thanke your fatherhoods. How like you it?

MOS.

Rare. I'ld ha' your tongue, sir, tipt with gold, for this; I'ld ha' you be the heire to the whole citie; The earth I'ld haue want men, ere you want liuing: They'are bound to erect your statue, in St. MARKES. Signior CORVINO, I would haue you goe, And shew your selfe, that you haue conquer'd.

CORV.

Yes.

MOS.

It was much better, that you should professe Your selfe a cuckold, thus, then that the other

Should haue beene prou'd.

CORV.

Nay, I consider'd that: Now, it is her fault.

MOS.

Then, it had beene yours.

CORV.

True, I doe doubt this Aduocate, still.

MOS.

I'faith, You need not, I dare ease you of that care.

CORV.

I trust thee, MOSCA.

MOS.

As your owne soule, sir.

CORB.

MOSCA.

MOS.

Now for your businesse, sir.

CORB.

How? ha' you business?

MOS.

Yes, yours, sir.

CORB.

O, none else?

MOS.

None else, not I.

CORB.

Be carefull then.

MOS.

Rest you, with both your eyes, sir.

CORB.

Dispatch it.

MOS.

Instantly.

CORB.

And looke, that all, What-euer, be put in, iewels, plate, moneyes, Household-stuffe, bedding, cortines.

MOS.

Cortine-rings, sir, Onely, the Aduocates see must be deducted.

CORB.

I'le pay him, now: you'll be too prodigall.

MOS.

Sir, I must tender it.

CORB.

Two cecchines is well?

MOS.

No, six, sir.

CORB.

'Tis too much.

MOS.

He talk'd a great while, You must consider that, sir.

CORB.

Well, there's three—

MOS.

I'le giue it him.

CORB.

Doe so, and there's for thee.

MOS.

Bountifull bones! What horride strange offence Did he commit 'gainst nature, in his youth, Worthy this age? you see, sir, how I worke Vnto your ends; take you no notice.

VOLT.

No, I'le leaue you.

MOS.

All, is yours; the deuill, and all: Good Aduocate. Madame, I'le bring you home.

LAD.

No, I'le goe see your patron.

MOS.

That you shall not: I'le tell you, why. My purpose is, to vrge My patron to reforme his will; and, for The zeale you' haue shew'n to day, whereas before You were but third, or, fourth, you shall be now Put in the first: which would appeare as beg'd, If you were present. Therefore—

LAD.

You shall sway me.