Volpone Or the Fox Part 27

VOLP: In troth, I did a little.

MOS: But confess, sir, Were you not daunted?

VOLP: In good faith, I was A little in a mist, but not dejected; Never, but still my self.

MOS: I think it, sir.

Now, so truth help me, I must needs say this, sir, And out of conscience for your advocate: He has taken pains, in faith, sir, and deserv'd, In my poor judgment, I speak it under favour, Not to contrary you, sir, very richly- Well-to be cozen'd.

VOLP: Troth, and I think so too, By that I heard him, in the latter end.

MOS: O, but before, sir: had you heard him first Draw it to certain heads, then aggravate, Then use his vehement figures-I look'd still When he would shift a shirt: and, doing this Out of pure love, no hope of gain-

VOLP: 'Tis right.

I cannot answer him, Mosca, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, I will begin, even now-to vex them all, This very instant.

MOS: Good sir.

VOLP: Call the dwarf And eunuch forth.

MOS: Castrone, Nano!

[ENTER CASTRONE AND NANO.]

NANO: Here.

VOLP: Shall we have a jig now?

MOS: What you please, sir.

VOLP: Go, Straight give out about the streets, you two, That I am dead; do it with constancy, Sadly, do you hear? impute it to the grief Of this late slander.

[EXEUNT CAST. AND NANO.]

MOS: What do you mean, sir?

VOLP: O, I shall have instantly my Vulture, Crow, Raven, come flying hither, on the news, To peck for carrion, my she-wolfe, and all, Greedy, and full of expectation-

MOS: And then to have it ravish'd from their mouths!

VOLP: 'Tis true. I will have thee put on a gown, And take upon thee, as thou wert mine heir: Shew them a will; Open that chest, and reach Forth one of those that has the blanks; I'll straight Put in thy name.

MOS [GIVES HIM A PAPER.]: It will be rare, sir.

VOLP: Ay, When they ev'n gape, and find themselves deluded-

MOS: Yes.

VOLP: And thou use them scurvily!

Dispatch, get on thy gown.

MOS [PUTTING ON A GOWN.]: But, what, sir, if they ask After the body?

VOLP: Say, it was corrupted.

MOS: I'll say it stunk, sir; and was fain to have it Coffin'd up instantly, and sent away.

VOLP: Any thing; what thou wilt. Hold, here's my will.

Get thee a cap, a count-book, pen and ink, Papers afore thee; sit as thou wert taking An inventory of parcels: I'll get up Behind the curtain, on a stool, and hearken; Sometime peep over, see how they do look, With what degrees their blood doth leave their faces, O, 'twill afford me a rare meal of laughter!

MOS [PUTTING ON A CAP, AND SETTING OUT THE TABLE, ETC.]: Your advocate will turn stark dull upon it.

VOLP: It will take off his oratory's edge.

MOS: But your clarissimo, old round-back, he Will crump you like a hog-louse, with the touch.

VOLP: And what Corvino?

MOS: O, sir, look for him, To-morrow morning, with a rope and dagger, To visit all the streets; he must run mad.

My lady too, that came into the court, To bear false witness for your worship-

VOLP: Yes, And kist me 'fore the fathers; when my face Flow'd all with oils.

MOS: And sweat, sir. Why, your gold Is such another med'cine, it dries up All those offensive savours: it transforms The most deformed, and restores them lovely, As 'twere the strange poetical girdle. Jove Could not invent t' himself a shroud more subtle To pa.s.s Acrisius' guards. It is the thing Makes all the world her grace, her youth, her beauty.

VOLP: I think she loves me.

MOS: Who? the lady, sir?

She's jealous of you.

VOLP: Dost thou say so?

[KNOCKING WITHIN.]

MOS: Hark, There's some already.

VOLP: Look.

MOS: It is the Vulture: He has the quickest scent.

VOLP: I'll to my place, Thou to thy posture.

[GOES BEHIND THE CURTAIN.]

MOS: I am set.

VOLP: But, Mosca, Play the artificer now, torture them rarely.

[ENTER VOLTORE.]