part I

hope to share In these his fortunes, for my patrimony. 20

_Lat._ See how Arruntius sits, and Lepidus!

_Tri._ Let ’em alone, they will be markt anon.

_1 Sen._ I’ll do with others.

_2 Sen._ So will I.

_3 Sen._ And I. Men grow not in the state but as they are planted Warm in his favours.

_Cot._ Noble Sejanus! 25

_Hat._ Honour’d Sejanus!

_Lat._ Worthy and great Sejanus!

_Arr._ Gods! how the sponges open and take in And shut again! Look, look! is not he blest That gets a seat in eye-reach of him! more That comes in ear, or tongue-reach? O but most 30 Can claw his subtile elbow, or with a buz Fly-bow his ears?

_Praet._ Proclaim the senate’s peace, And give last summons by the edict.

_Prae._ Silence! In the name of Caesar, and the senate, silence!

“Memmius Regulus, and Fulcinius Trio, (35) consuls, these present kalends of June, with the first light, shall hold a senate in the temple of Apollo Palatine: all that are fathers, and are regist’red fathers, that have right of ent’ring the senate, we warn or command you be frequently (40) present, take knowledge the business is the commonwealth’s: whosoever is absent, his fine or mulct will be taken, his excuse will not be taken.”

_Tri._ Note who are absent, and record their names. 45

_Reg._ Fathers conscript, may what I am to utter Turn good and happy for the commonwealth! And thou, Apollo, in whose holy house We here are met, inspire us all with truth, And liberty of censure to our thought! 50 The majesty of great Tiberius Caesar Propounds to this grave senate, the bestowing Upon the man he loves, honour’d Sejanus, The tribunitial dignity and power: Here are his letters, signed with his signet. 55 What pleaseth now the fathers to be done?

_Sen._ Read, read ’em, open, publicly read ’em.

_Cot._ Caesar hath honour’d his own greatness much In thinking of this act.

_Tri._ It was a thought Happy, and worthy Caesar.

_Lat._ And the lord 60 As worthy it, on whom it is directed!

_Hat._ Most worthy!

_San._ Rome did never boast the virtue That could give envy bounds, but his: Sejanus——

[1] _Sen._ Honour’d and noble!

[2] _Sen._ Good and great Sejanus! 64

_Arr._ O, most tame slavery, and fierce flattery!

_Prae._ Silence! (_Reads._) “Tiberius Caesar to the Senate greeting. If you, conscript fathers, with your children, be in health, it is abundantly well: we with our friends here are so. The care of the commonwealth, howsoever we are remov’d in person, (70) cannot be absent to our thought: although, oftentimes, even to princes most present, the truth of their own affairs is hid; than which nothing falls out more miserable to a state, or makes the art of governing more difficult. (75) But since it hath been our easeful happiness to enjoy both the aids and industry of so vigilant a senate, we profess to have been the more indulgent to our pleasures, not as being careless of our office, but rather secure of the necessity. Neither do these common rumours of many, (81) and infamous libels published against our retirement, at all afflict us; being born more out of men’s ignorance than their malice: and will, neglected, find their own grave quickly; 85 whereas, too sensibly acknowledge, it would make their obloquy ours. Nor do we desire their authors, though found, be censur’d, since in a free state, as ours, all men ought to enjoy both their minds and tongues free.” 90

_Arr._ (_Aside_). The lapwing, the lapwing! “Yet in things which shall worthily and more near concern the majesty of a prince, we shall fear to be so unnaturally cruel to our own fame, as to neglect them. True it is, conscript fathers, that we have raised Sejanus from obscure, (96) and almost unknown gentry,”

_Sen._ (_Aside._) How, how! “to the highest and most conspicuous point of greatness, and, we hope, deservingly; yet (100) not without danger: it being a most bold hazard in that sov’reign who, by his particular love to one, dares adventure the hatred of all his other subjects.”

_Arr._ (_Aside._) This touches; the blood turns. “But we affy[1545] in your loves and understandings, (106) and do no way suspect the merit of our Sejanus, to make our favours offensive to any.”

_Sen._ (_Aside._) O! good, good. 110 “Though we could have wished his zeal had run a calmer course against Agrippina and our nephews, howsoever the openness of their actions declared them delinquents; and that he would have rememb’red no innocence is so (115) safe, but it rejoiceth to stand in the sight of mercy: the use of which in us he hath so quite taken away toward them, by his loyal fury, as now our clemency would be thought but wearied cruelty, if we should offer to exercise it.”

_Arr._ (_Aside._) I thank him; there I look’d for ’t. A good fox! 121 “Some there be that would interpret this his public severity to be particular ambition; and that, under a pretext of service to us, he doth but remove his own lets:[1546] alleging the (125) strengths he hath made to himself, by the praetorian soldiers, by his faction in court and senate, by the offices he holds himself, and confers on others, his popularity and dependents, his urging and almost driving us to this our unwilling (130) retirement, and, lastly, his aspiring to be our son-in-law.”

_Sen._ (_Aside._) This is strange!

_Arr._ (_Aside._) I shall anon believe your vultures,[1547] Marcus.

“Your wisdoms, conscript fathers, are able (135) to examine, and censure[1548] these suggestions. But were they left to our absolving voice, we durst pronounce them, as we think them, most malicious.”

_Sen._ (_Aside._) O, he has restor’d all, list! 140

“Yet are they offer’d to be averr’d, and on the lives of the informers. What we should say, or rather what we should not say, lords of the senate, if this be true, our gods and goddesses confound us if we know! Only we must think, (145) we have plac’d our benefits ill; and conclude, that in our choice, either we were wanting to the gods, or the gods to us.” _The_ Senators _shift their places_.

_Arr._ (_Aside._) The place grows hot; they shift.

“We have not been covetous, honourable (150) fathers, to change; neither is it now any new lust that alters our affection, or old loathing: but those needful jealousies of state, that warn wiser princes hourly to provide their safety; and do teach them how learned a thing it is (155) to beware of the humblest enemy; much more of those great ones, whom their own employ’d favours have made fit for their fears.”

[1] _Sen._ (_Aside._) Away.

[2] _Sen._ (_Aside._) Sit farther.

_Cot._ (_Aside._) Let’s remove——

_Arr._ (_Aside._) Gods! how the leaves drop off, this little wind! 160

“We therefore desire, that the offices he holds be first seized by the senate; and himself suspended from all exercise of place or power——”

_Sen._ (_Aside._) How! 165

_San._ [_Thrusting by._] By your leave.

_Arr._ Come, porpoise. (_Aside._) Where’s Haterius? His gout keeps him most miserably constant!— Your dancing shows a tempest.

_Sej._ Read no more.

_Reg._ Lords of the senate, hold your seats: read on.

_Sej._ These letters, they are forg’d.

_Reg._ A guard! sit still. 170

_Enter_ LACO, _with the_ Guards.

_Arr._ There’s change!

_Reg._ Bid silence, and read forward.

_Prae._ Silence!—“and himself suspended from all exercise of place or power, but till due and mature trial be made of his innocency, which yet we can faintly apprehend the necessity to (175) doubt. If, conscript fathers, to your more searching wisdoms, there shall appear farther cause—or of farther proceeding, either to seizure of lands, goods, or more—it is not our power that shall limit your authority, or our favour (180) that must corrupt your justice: either were dishonourable in you, and both uncharitable to ourself. We would willingly be present with your counsels in this business; but the danger of so potent a faction, if it should prove (185) so, forbids our attempting it: except one of the consuls would be entreated for our safety, to undertake the guard of us home; then we should most readily adventure. In the meantime, it shall not be fit for us to importune (190) so judicious a senate, who know how much they hurt the innocent that spare the guilty; and how grateful a sacrifice to the gods is the life of an ingrateful person. We reflect not in this on Sejanus, (notwithstanding, if you (195) keep an eye upon him—and there is Latiaris, a senator, and Pinnarius Natta, two of his most trusted ministers; and so profest, whom we desire not to have apprehended,) but as the necessity of the cause exacts it.” 200

_Reg._ A guard on Latiaris!

_Arr._ O, the spy. The reverend spy is caught! Who pities him? Reward, sir, for your service: now, you ha’ done Your property.[1549] you see what use is made! [_Exeunt_ LATIARIS _and_ NATTA _guarded_.] Hang up the instrument.

_Sej._ Give leave.

_Lac._ Stand, stand! 206 He comes upon his death, that doth advance An inch toward my point.

_Sej._ Have we no friends here?

_Arr._ Husht! Where now are all the hails and acclamations?

[_Enter_] MACRO.

_Mac._ Hail to the consuls, and this noble senate!

_Sej._ [_Aside._] Is Macro here? O, thou art lost, Sejanus! 210

_Mac._ Sit still, and unaffrighted, reverend fathers; Macro, by Caesar’s grace the new-made provost, And now possest of the praetorian bands, An honour late belong’d to that proud man, Bids you be safe: and to your constant doom[1550] 215 Of his deservings, offers you the surety Of all the soldiers, tribunes, and centurions, Receiv’d in our command.

_Reg._ Sejanus, Sejanus, Stand forth, Sejanus!

_Sej._ Am I call’d!

_Mac._ Ay, thou, Thou insolent monster, art bid stand.

_Sej._ Why, Macro, 220 It hath been otherwise between you and I; This court, that knows us both, hath seen a difference, And can, if it be pleas’d to speak, confirm Whose insolence is most.

_Mac._ Come down, Typhoeus. If mine be most, lo! thus I make it more; 225 Kick up thy heels in air, tear off thy robe, Play with thy beard and nostrils. Thus ’t is fit (And no man take compassion of thy state) To use th’ ingrateful viper, tread his brains Into the earth.

_Reg._ Forbear.

_Mac._ If I could lose 230 All my humanity now, ’t were well to torture So meriting a traitor.—Wherefore, fathers, Sit you amaz’d and silent; and not censure This wretch, who, in the hour he first rebell’d ’Gainst Caesar’s bounty, did condemn himself? Phlegra, the field where all the sons of earth Muster’d against the gods, did ne’er acknowledge 237 So proud and huge a monster.

_Reg._ Take him hence; And all the gods guard Caesar!

_Tri._ Take him hence.

_Hat._ Hence.

_Cot._ To the dungeon with him.

_San._ He deserves it. 240

_Sen._ Crown all our doors with bays.

_San._ And let an ox, With gilded horns and garlands, straight be led Unto the Capitol.

_Hat._ And sacrific’d To Jove, for Caesar’s safety.

_Tri._ All our gods Be present still to Caesar!

_Cot._ Phoebus.

_San._ Mars. 244

_Hat._ Diana.

_San._ Pallas.

_Sen._ Juno, Mercury, All guard him!

_Mac._ Forth thou prodigy of men. [_Exit_ SEJANUS, _guarded_.]

_Cot._ Let all the traitor’s titles be defac’d.

_Tri._ His images and statues be pull’d down.

_Hat._ His chariot-wheels be broken.

_Arr._ And the legs Of the poor horses, that deserved nought, 251 Let them be broken too!

_Lep._ O violent change, And whirl of men’s affections!

_Arr._ Like, as both Their bulks and souls were bound on Fortune’s wheel, And must act only with her motion. 255 [_Exeunt all but_] LEPIDUS _and_ ARRUNTIUS.

_Lep._ Who would depend upon the popular air, Or voice of men, that have to-day beheld That which, if all the gods had fore-declar’d, Would not have been believ’d Sejanus’ fall? He that this morn rose proudly as the sun, 260 And, breaking through a mist of clients’ breath, Came on as gaz’d at and admir’d as he, When superstitious Moors salute his light! That had our servile nobles waiting him As common grooms; and hanging on his look No less than human life on destiny! 265 That had men’s knees as frequent as the gods; And sacrifices more than Rome had altars: And this man fall! fall? ay, without a look That durst appear his friend, or lend so much Of vain relief, to his chang’d state, as pity! 271

_Arr._ They that before, like gnats, play’d in his beams, And throng’d to circumscribe him, now not seen, Nor deign to hold a common seat with him! Others, that waited him unto the senate, 275 Now inhumanely ravish him to prison, Whom but this morn they follow’d as their lord! Guard through the streets, bound like a fugitive. Instead of wreaths give fetters, strokes for stoops: Blind shame for honours, and black taunts for titles! 280 Who would trust slippery Chance?

_Lep._ They that would make Themselves her spoil; and foolishly forget, When she doth flatter, that she comes to prey. Fortune, thou hadst no deity, if men Had wisdom: we have placed thee so high, 285 By fond belief in thy felicity. (_Shout within._) The gods guard Caesar! All the gods guard Caesar!

[_Re-enter_ MACRO,] REGULUS, [_and divers_], Senators.

_Mac._ Now, great Sejanus, you that aw’d the state, And sought to bring the nobles to your whip; That would be Caesar’s tutor, and dispose 290 Of dignities and offices! that had The public head still bare to your designs, And made the general voice to echo yours! That look’d for salutations twelve score off, And would have pyramids, yea, temples, rear’d To your huge greatness; now you lie as flat 295 As was your pride advanc’d![1551]

_Reg._ Thanks to the gods!

_Sen._ And praise to Macro, that hath saved Rome! Liberty, liberty, liberty! Lead on, And praise to Macro, that hath saved Rome! 300 [_Exeunt all but_] ARRUNTIUS _and_ LEPIDUS.

_Arr._ I prophesy, out of the senate’s flattery, That this new fellow, Macro, will become A greater prodigy in Rome than he That now is fall’n.

[_Enter_ TERENTIUS.]

_Ter._ O you, whose minds are good, And have not forc’d all mankind from your breasts; 305 That yet have so much stock of virtue left To pity guilty states, when they are wretched: Lend your soft ears to hear, and eyes to weep Deeds done by men, beyond the acts of furies. The eager multitude (who never yet 310 Knew why to love or hate, but only pleas’d T’ express their rage of power) no sooner heard The murmur of Sejanus in decline, But with that speed and heat of appetite, With which they greedily devour the way 315 To some great sports, or a new theatre, They fill’d the Capitol, and Pompey’s Cirque Where, like so many mastiffs biting stones, As if his statues now were sensitive 319 Of their wild fury; first, they tear them down; Then fast’ning ropes, drag them along the streets, Crying in scorn, “This, this was that rich head Was crown’d with garlands, and with odours, this That was in Rome so reverenced! Now The furnace and the bellows shall to work, 325 The great Sejanus crack, and piece by piece Drop in the founder’s pit.”

_Lep._ O popular rage!

_Ter._ The whilst the senate at the temple of Concord Make haste to meet again, and thronging cry, “Let us condemn him, tread him down in water, While he doth lie upon the bank; away!” 331 While some, more tardy, cry unto their bearers, “He will be censur’d ere we come; run, knaves,” And use that furious diligence, for fear Their bondmen should inform against their slackness, 335 And bring their quaking flesh unto the hook. The rout, they follow with confused voice, Crying they’re glad, say they could ne’er abide him; Inquire what man he was, what kind of face, What beard he had, what nose, what lips? protest 340 They ever did presage he’d come to this; They never thought him wise, nor valiant; ask After his garments, when he dies, what death; And not a beast of all the herd demands What was his crime, or who were his accusers, Under what proof or testimony he fell. 346 There came, says one, a huge long-worded letter From Capreae against him. Did there so? O, they are satisfied; no more.

_Lep._ Alas! They follow Fortune, and hate men condemn’d, Guilty or not.

_Arr._ But had Sejanus thriv’d 351 In his design, and prosperously opprest The old Tiberius; then, in that same minute, These very rascals, that now rage like furies, Would have proclaim’d Sejanus emperor. 355

_Lep._ But what hath follow’d?

_Ter._ Sentence by the senate, To lose his head; which was no sooner off, But that and th’ unfortunate trunk were seiz’d By the rude multitude; who not content With what the forward justice of the state 360 Officiously had done, with violent rage Have rent it limb from limb. A thousand heads, A thousand hands, ten thousand tongues and voices, Employ’d at once in several acts of malice! Old men not staid with age, virgins with shame, Late wives with loss of husbands, mothers of children, 366 Losing all grief in joy of his sad fall, Run quite transported with their cruelty! These mounting at his head, these at his face, These digging out his eyes, those with his brain Sprinkling themselves, their houses and their friends; 371 Others are met, have ravish’d thence an arm, And deal small pieces of the flesh for favours; These with a thigh, this hath cut off his hands, And this his feet; these fingers, and these toes; 375 That hath his liver, he his heart: there wants Nothing but room for wrath, and place for hatred! What cannot oft be done, is now o’erdone. The whole, and all of what was great Sejanus, And, next to Caesar, did possess the world, 380 Now torn and scatter’d, as he needs no grave Each little dust covers a little part: So lies he nowhere, and yet often buried!

[_Enter_] NUNTIUS.

_Arr._ More of Sejanus?

_Nun._ Yes.

_Lep._ What can be added? We know him dead.

_Nun._ Then there begin your pity, 385 There is enough behind to melt ev’n Rome, And Caesar into tears; since never slave Could yet so highly offend, but tyranny, In tormenting him, would make him worth lamenting. A son and daughter to the dead Sejanus, 390 (Of whom there is not now so much remaining As would give fast’ning to the hangman’s hook,) Have they drawn forth for farther sacrifice; Whose tenderness of knowledge, unripe years, And childish silly innocence was such, 395 As scarce would lend them feeling of their danger: The girl so simple, as she often askt Where they would lead her? for what cause they dragg’d her? Cried, she would do no more: that she could take Warning with beating. And because our laws 400 Admit no virgin immature to die, The wittily and strangely cruel Macro Deliver’d her to be deflower’d and spoil’d By the rude lust of the licentious hangman, 404 Then to be strangled with her harmless brother.

_Lep._ O, act most worthy hell, and lasting night, To hide it from the world!

_Nun._ Their bodies thrown Into the Gemonies, (I know not how, Or by what accident return’d,) the mother, Th’ expulsed[1552] Apicata, finds them there; 410 Whom when she saw lie spread on the degrees,[1553] After a world of fury on herself, Tearing her hair, defacing of her face, Beating her breasts and womb, kneeling amaz’d, Crying to heaven, then to them; at last, 415 Her drowned voice gat up above her woes, And with such black and bitter execrations As might affright the gods, and force the sun Run backward to the east; nay, make the old Deformed chaos rise again, t’ o’erwhelm 420 Them, us, and all the world, she fills the air, Upbraids the heavens with their partial dooms, Defies their tyrannous powers, and demands, What she, and those poor innocents have transgress’d, That they must suffer such a share in vengeance, 425 Whilst Livia, Lygdus, and Eudemus live, Who, as she says, and firmly vows to prove it To Caesar and the senate, poison’d Drusus?

_Lep._ Confederates with her husband!

_Nun._ Ay.

_Lep._ Strange act!

_Arr._ And strangely open’d. What says now my monster, 430 The multitude? They reel now, do they not?

_Nun._ Their gall is gone, and now they ’gin to weep The mischief they have done.

_Arr._ I thank ’em, rogues.

_Nun._ Part are so stupid, or so flexible, As they believe him innocent; all grieve: 435 And some, whose hands yet reek with his warm blood, And grip the part which they did tear of him, Wish him collected and created new.

_Lep._ How Fortune plies her sports, when she begins To practise ’em! pursues, continues, adds, 440 Confounds with varying her impassion’d moods!

_Arr._ Dost thou hope, Fortune, to redeem thy crimes, To make amend for thy ill placed favours, With these strange punishments! Forbear, you things That stand upon the pinnacles of state, 445 To boast your slippery height; when you do fall, You pash[1554] yourselves in pieces, ne’er to rise; And he that lends you pity, is not wise.

_Ter._ Let this example move the insolent man Not to grow proud and careless of the gods. 450 It is an odious wisdom to blaspheme, Much more to slighten, or deny their powers: For whom the morning saw so great and high, Thus low and little, ’fore the even doth lie. [_Exeunt._]

VOLPONE; OR, THE FOX

BY BEN JONSON

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

VOLPONE, a Magnifico. MOSCA, his Parasite. VOLTORE, an Advocate. CORBACCIO, an old Gentleman. CORVINO, a Merchant. BONARIO, a young Gentleman, [son to Corbaccio.] [SIR] POLITIC WOULD-BE, a Knight. PEREGRINE, a Gentleman Traveller. NANO, a Dwarf. CASTRONE, an Eunuch. ANDROGYNO, an Hermaphrodite.

Grege [or Mob]. Commandadori, Officers [of Justice.] Mercatori, three Merchants. Avocatori, four Magistrates. Notario, the Register.

Fine Madame WOULD-BE, the Knight’s Wife. CELIA, [Corvino] the Merchant’s Wife.

Servitore, a Servant, [two Waiting-] women, &c.

SCENE.—_Venice._

THE ARGUMENT

V olpone, childless, rich, feigns sick, despairs, O ffers his state to hopes of several heirs, L ies languishing: his parasite receives P resents of all, assures, deludes; then weaves O ther cross plots, which ope themselves, are told. 5 N ew tricks for safety are sought; they thrive: when, bold, E ach tempts th’ other again, and all are sold.

PROLOGUE

Now, luck yet send us, and a little wit Will serve to make our play hit; According to the palates of the season, Here is rhyme, not empty of reason. This we were bid to credit from our poet, 5 Whose true scope, if you would know it, In all his poems still hath been this measure, To mix profit with your pleasure; And not as some, whose throats their envy failing, Cry hoarsely, “All he writes is railing:” 10 And when his plays come forth, think they can flout them, With saying, he was a year about them. To this there needs no lie, but this his creature, Which was two months since no feature: And though he dares give them five lives to mend it, 15 ’T is known, five weeks fully penn’d it, From his own hand, without a coadjutor, Novice, journeyman, or tutor. Yet thus much I can give you as a token Of his play’s worth, no eggs are broken, 20 Nor quaking custards with fierce teeth affrighted, Wherewith your rout are so delighted; Nor hales he in a gull, old ends reciting, To stop gaps in his loose writing; With such a deal of monstrous and forc’d action, 25 As might make Bethlem[1555] a faction: Nor made he his play for jests stol’n from each table, But makes jests to fit his fable; And so presents quick comedy refin’d, As best critics have design’d; 30 The laws of time, place, persons he observeth, From no needful rule he swerveth. All gall and copperas[1556] from his ink he draineth, Only a little salt remaineth, Wherewith he ’ll rub your cheeks, till, red with laughter, 35 They shall look fresh a week after.

ACT I

SCENE I.[1557]

[_Enter_] VOLPONE, MOSCA.

_Volp._ Good morning to the day; and next, my gold! Open the shrine, that I may see my saint.

[MOSCA _withdraws the curtain, and discovers piles of gold, plate, jewels, etc._]

Hail the world’s soul, and mine! More glad than is The teeming earth to see the long’d-for sun Peep through the horns of the celestial Ram, 5 Am I, to view thy splendour dark’ning his; That lying here, amongst my other hoards, Show’st like a flame by night, or like the day Struck out of chaos, when all darkness fled Unto the centre.[1558] O thou son of Sol, 10 But brighter than thy father, let me kiss, With adoration, thee, and every relic Of sacred treasure in this blessed room. Well did wise poets, by thy glorious name, Title that age which they would have the best; Thou being the best of things, and far transcending 16 All style of joy, in children, parents, friends, Or any other waking dream on earth Thy looks when they to Venus did ascribe, They should have given her twenty thousand Cupids; 20 Such are thy beauties and our loves! Dear saint, Riches, the dumb god, that giv’st all men tongues, That canst do nought, and yet mak’st men do all things; The price of souls; even hell, with thee to boot, 24 Is made worth heaven. Thou art virtue, fame, Honour, and all things else. Who can get thee, He shall be noble, valiant, honest, wise——[1559]

_Mos._ And what he will, sir. Riches are in fortune A greater good than wisdom is in nature.

_Volp._ True, my beloved Mosca. Yet I glory More in the cunning purchase of my wealth, 31 Than in the glad possession, since I gain No common way; I use no trade, no venture; I wound no earth with ploughshares, I fat no beasts To feed the shambles; have no mills for iron, 35 Oil, corn, or men, to grind them into powder; I blow no subtle glass, expose no ships To threat’nings of the furrow-faced sea; I turn no monies in the public bank, No usure private.

_Mos._ No, sir, nor devour 40 Soft prodigals. You shall ha’ some will swallow A melting heir as glibly as your Dutch Will pills of butter, and ne’er purge for it; Tear forth the fathers of poor families Out of their beds, and coffin them alive 45 In some kind clasping prison, where their bones May be forthcoming, when the flesh is rotten: But your sweet nature doth abhor these courses; You loathe the widow’s or the orphan’s tears Should wash your pavements, or their piteous cries 50 Ring in your roofs, and beat the air for vengeance.

_Volp._ Right, Mosca; I do loathe it.

_Mos._ And, besides, sir, You are not like the thresher that doth stand With a huge flail, watching a heap of corn, 54 And, hungry, dares not taste the smallest grain, But feeds on mallows, and such bitter herbs; Nor like the merchant, who hath fill’d his vaults With Romagnia, rich and Candian wines, Yet drinks the lees of Lombard’s vinegar: You will not lie in straw, whilst moths and worms 60 Feed on your sumptuous hangings and soft beds; You know the use of riches, and dare give now From that bright heap, to me, your poor observer, Or to your dwarf, or your hermaphrodite, Your eunuch, or what other household trifle 65 Your pleasure allows maintenance—

_Vol._ Hold thee, Mosca, Take of my hand; thou strik’st on truth in all, And they are envious term thee parasite. Call forth my dwarf, my eunuch, and my fool, And let ’em make me sport. [_Exit_ MOS.] What should I do, 70 But cocker up my genius, and live free To all delights my fortune calls me to? I have no wife, no parent, child, ally, To give my substance to; but whom I make Must be my heir; and this makes men observe[1560] me: 75 This draws new clients daily to my house, Women and men of every sex and age, That bring me presents, send me plate, coin, jewels, With hope that when I die (which they expect Each greedy minute) it shall then return 80 Tenfold upon them; whilst some, covetous Above the rest, seek to engross me whole, And counter-work the one unto the other, Contend in gifts, as they would seem in love: All which I suffer, playing with their hopes, 85 And am content to coin ’em into profit, And look upon their kindness, and take more, And look on that; still bearing them in hand,[1561] Letting the cherry knock against their lips, And draw it by their mouths, and back again.— How now! 91

SCENE II.[1562]

[_To him re-enter_] MOSCA, [_with_] NANO, ANDROGYNO, _and_ CASTRONE.

_Nan._ “Now, room for fresh gamesters, who do will you to know, They do bring you neither play nor university show; And therefore do intreat you that whatsoever they rehearse, May not fare a whit the worse, for the false pace of the verse. If you wonder at this, you will wonder more ere we pass, 5 For know, here[1563] is inclos’d the soul of Pythagoras, That juggler divine, as hereafter shall follow; Which soul, fast and loose, sir, came first from Apollo, And was breath’d into Aethalides, Mercurius his son, Where it had the gift to remember all that ever was done. 10 From thence it fled forth, and made quick transmigration To goldy-lock’d Euphorbus, who was kill’d in good fashion, At the siege of old Troy, by the cuckold of Sparta. Hermotimus was next (I find it in my charta), To whom it did pass, where no sooner it was missing, 15 But with one Pyrrhus of Delos it learn’d to go a-fishing; And thence did it enter the sophist of Greece. From Pythagore, she went into a beautiful piece, Hight Aspasia, the meretrix; and the next toss of her Was again of a whore, she became a philosopher, Crates the cynick, as itself doth relate it: 21 Since kings, knights, and beggars, knaves, lords, and fools gat it, Besides ox and ass, camel, mule, goat, and brock,[1564] In all which it hath spoke, as in the cobbler’s cock.[1565] 24 But I come not here to discourse of that matter, Or his one, two, or three, or his great oath, BY QUATER![1566] His musics, his trigon,[1567] his golden thigh, Or his telling how elements shift; but I Would ask, how of late thou hast suffer’d translation, And shifted thy coat in these days of reformation. 30

_And._ Like one of the reform’d, a fool, as you see, Counting all old doctrine heresy.

_Nan._ But not on thine own forbid meats hast thou ventur’d?

_And._ On fish, when first a Carthusian I enter’d.

_Nan._ Why, then thy dogmatical silence hath left thee? 35

_And._ Of that an obstreperous lawyer bereft me.

_Nan._ O wonderful change, when sir lawyer forsook thee! For Pythagore’s sake, what body then took thee?

_And._ A good dull mule.

_Nan._ And how! by that means Thou wert brought to allow of the eating of beans? 40

_And._ Yes.

_Nan._ But from the mule into whom didst thou pass?

_And._ Into a very strange beast, by some writers call’d an ass; By others a precise,[1568] pure, illuminate brother Of those devour flesh, and sometimes one another; And will drop you forth a libel, or a sanctifi’d lie, Betwixt every spoonful of a nativity-pie.[1569] 46

_Nan._ Now quit thee, for heaven, of that profane nation, And gently report thy next transmigration.

_And._ To the same that I am.

_Nan._ A creature of delight, And, what is more than a fool, an hermaphrodite! 50 Now, prithee, sweet soul, in all thy variation, Which body wouldst thou choose to keep up thy station?

_And._ Troth, this I am in: even here would I tarry.

_Nan._ ’Cause here the delight of each sex thou canst vary?

_And._ Alas, those pleasures be stale and forsaken; 55 No, ’t is your fool wherewith I am so taken, The only one creature that I can call blessed; For all other forms I have prov’d most distressed.

_Nan._ Spoke true, as thou wert in Pythagoras still. This learned opinion we celebrate will, 60 Fellow eunuch, as behoves us, with all our wit and art, To dignify that whereof ourselves are so great and special a part.”

_Volp._ Now, very, very pretty! Mosca, this Was thy invention?

_Mos._ If it please my patron, Not else.

_Volp._ It doth, good Mosca.

_Mos._ Then it was, sir. 65

[NANO _and_ CASTRONE _sing_.]

Song.

“Fools, they are the only nation Worth men’s envy or admiration; Free from care or sorrow-taking, Selves and others merry making: All they speak or do is sterling. 70 Your fool he is your great man’s darling, And your ladies’ sport and pleasure; Tongue and bauble are his treasure. E’en his face begetteth laughter, And he speaks truth free from slaughter;[1570] 75 He’s the grace of every feast, And sometimes the chiefest guest; Hath his trencher and his stool, When wit waits upon the fool. O, who would not be 80 He, he, he?” _One knocks without._

_Volp._ Who ’s that? Away! Look, Mosca. Fool, begone! [_Exeunt_ NANO, CAST. _and_ ANDRO.]

_Mos._ ’T is Signior Voltore, the advocate; I know him by his knock.

_Volp._ Fetch me my gown, My furs, and night-caps; say my couch is changing 85 And let him entertain himself awhile Without i’ th’ gallery. [_Exit_ MOSCA.] Now, now my clients Begin their visitation! Vulture, kite, Raven, and gorcrow,[1571] all my birds of prey, 89 That think me turning carcase, now they come: I am not for ’em yet. [_Re-enter_ MOSCA, _with the gown, etc._] How now! the news?

_Mos._ A piece of plate, sir.

_Volp._ Of what bigness?

_Mos._ Huge, Massy, and antique, with your name inscrib’d, And arms engraven.

_Volp._ Good! and not a fox 94 Stretcht on the earth, with fine delusive sleights, Mocking a gaping crow? ha, Mosca!

_Mos._ Sharp, sir.

_Volp._ Give me my furs. [_Puts on his sick dress_.] Why dost thou laugh so, man?

_Mos._ I cannot choose, sir, when I apprehend What thoughts he has without now, as he walks: 99 That this might be the last gift he should give, That this would fetch you; if you died to-day, And gave him all, what he should be to-morrow; What large return would come of all his ventures; 103 How he should worshipp’d be, and reverenc’d; Ride with his furs, and foot cloths; waited on By herds of fools and clients; have clear way Made for his mule, as letter’d as himself; Be call’d the great and learned advocate: 108 And then concludes, there’s nought impossible.

_Volp._ Yes, to be learned, Mosca.

_Mos._ O, no: rich Implies it. Hood an ass with reverend purple, So you can hide his two ambitious[1572] ears, And he shall pass for a cathedral doctor.

_Volp._ My caps, my caps, good Mosca. Fetch him in. 114

_Mos._ Stay, sir; your ointment for your eyes.

_Volp._ That ’s true; Dispatch, dispatch: I long to have possession Of my new present.

_Mos._ That, and thousands more, I hope to see you lord of.

_Volp._ Thanks, kind Mosca.

_Mos._ And that, when I am lost in blended dust, And hundreds such as I am, in succession— 120

_Volp._ Nay, that were too much, Mosca.

_Mos._ You shall live Still to delude these harpies.

_Volp._ Loving Mosca! ’T is well: my pillow now, and let him enter.

[_Exit_ MOSCA.]

Now, my feign’d cough, my phthisic, and my gout, My apoplexy, palsy, and catarrhs, 125 Help, with your forced functions, this my posture, Wherein, this three year, I have milk’d their hopes. He comes; I hear him—Uh! [_coughing_] uh! uh! uh! O——

SCENE III[1573]

VOLPONE; [_re-enter_ MOSCA, [_introducing_] VOLTORE [_with a piece of plate_.]

_Mos._ You still are what you were, sir. Only you, Of all the rest, are he commands his love, And you do wisely to preserve it thus, With early visitation, and kind notes Of your good meaning to him, which, I know, 5 Cannot but come most grateful. Patron! sir! Here’s Signior Voltore is come——

_Volp._ [_Faintly._] What say you?

_Mos._ Sir, Signior Voltore is come this morning To visit you.

_Volp._ I thank him.

_Mos._ And hath brought A piece of antique plate, bought of St. Mark,[1574] With which he here presents you.

_Volp._ He is welcome. 11 Pray him to come more often.

_Mos._ Yes.

_Volt._ What says he?

_Mos._ He thanks you, and desires you see him often.

_Volp._ Mosca.

_Mos._ My patron!

_Volp._ Bring him near, where is he? I long to feel his hand.

_Mos._ The plate is here, sir. 15

_Volt._ How fare you, sir?

_Volp._ I thank you, Signior Voltore; Where is the plate? mine eyes are bad.

_Volt._ [_putting it into his hands._] I’m sorry To see you still thus weak.

_Mos._ [_Aside._] That he’s not weaker.

_Volp._ You are too munificent.

_Volt._ No, sir; would to heaven I could as well give health to you, as that plate! 20

_Volp._ You give, sir, what you can; I thank you. Your love Hath taste in this, and shall not be unanswer’d: I pray you see me often.

_Volt._ Yes, I shall, sir.

_Volp._ Be not far from me.

_Mos._ Do you observe that, sir?

_Volp._ Hearken unto me still; it will concern you. 25

_Mos._ You are a happy man, sir; know your good.

_Volp._ I cannot now last long——

_Mos._ (_Aside._) You are his heir, sir.

_Volt._ (_Aside._) Am I?

_Volp._ I feel me going: Uh! uh! uh! uh! I’m sailing to my port. Uh! uh! uh! uh! And I am glad I am so near my haven. 30

_Mos._ Alas, kind gentleman! Well, we must all go——

_Volt._ But, Mosca——

_Mos._ Age will conquer.

_Volt._ Prithee, hear me; Am I inscrib’d his heir for certain?

_Mos._ Are you! I do beseech you, sir, you will vouchsafe To write me i’ your family. All my hopes 35 Depend upon your worship: I am lost Except the rising sun do shine on me.

_Volt._ It shall both shine, and warm thee, Mosca.

_Mos._ Sir, I am a man that hath not done your love All the worst offices: here I wear your keys, 40 See all your coffers and your caskets lock’d, Keep the poor inventory of your jewels, Your plate, and monies; am your steward, sir, Husband your goods here.

_Volt._ But am I sole heir?

_Mos._ Without a partner, sir: confirm’d this morning: 45 The wax is warm yet, and the ink scarce dry Upon the parchment.

_Volt._ Happy, happy me! By what good chance, sweet Mosca?

_Mos._ Your desert, sir; I know no second cause.

_Volt._ Thy modesty Is loth to know it; well, we shall requite it. 50

_Mos._ He ever lik’d your course, sir; that first took him. I oft have heard him say how he admir’d Men of your large profession, that could speak To every cause, and things mere contraries, Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law; 55 That, with most quick agility, could turn, And return;[1575] make knots, and undo them; Give forked counsel; take provoking gold On either hand, and put it up; these men, He knew, would thrive with their humility, 60 And, for his part, he thought he should be blest To have his heir of such a suff’ring spirit, So wise, so grave, of so perplex’d a tongue, And loud withal, that would not wag, nor scarce Lie still, without a fee; when every word 65 Your worship but lets fall, is a chequin!— _Another knocks._ Who’s that? one knocks; I would not have you seen, sir. And yet—pretend you came and went in haste; I’ll fashion an excuse—and, gentle sir, When you do come to swim in golden lard, 70 Up to the arms in honey, that your chin Is borne up stiff with fatness of the flood, Think on your vassal; but remember me: I ha’ not been your worst of clients.

_Volt._ Mosca!——

_Mos._ When will you have your inventory brought, sir? 75 Or see a copy of the will?—Anon! I ’ll bring them to you, sir. Away, begone. Put business i’ your face. [_Exit_ VOLTORE.]

_Volp._ [_Springing up._] Excellent Mosca! Come hither, let me kiss thee.

_Mos._ Keep you still, sir, Here is Corbaccio.

_Volp._ Set the plate away: 80 The vulture’s gone, and the old raven’s come.

Scene IV.[1576]

MOSCA, VOLPONE.

_Mos._ Betake you to your silence, and your sleep. Stand there and multiply. [_Putting the plate to the rest._] Now we shall see A wretch who is indeed more impotent Than this can feign to be; yet hopes to hop Over his grave. [_Enter_ CORBACCIO.] Signior Corbaccio! 5 You’re very welcome, sir.

_Corb._ How does your patron?

_Mos._ Troth, as he did, sir; no amends.

_Corb._ What! mends he?

_Mos._ No, sir: he ’s rather worse.

_Corb._ That ’s well. Where is he?

_Mos._ Upon his couch, sir, newly fall’n asleep.

_Corb._ Does he sleep well?

_Mos._ No wink, sir, all this night, 10 Nor yesterday; but slumbers.

_Corb._ Good! he should take Some counsel of physicians: I have brought him An opiate here, from mine own doctor.

_Mos._ He will not hear of drugs.

_Corb._ Why? I myself Stood by while ’t was made, saw all th’ ingredients; 15 And know it cannot but most gently work: My life for his, ’t is but to make him sleep.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Ay, his last sleep, if he would take it.

_Mos._ Sir, He has no faith in physic.

_Corb._ Say you, say you?

_Mos._ He has no faith in physic: he does think 20 Most of your doctors are the greater danger, And worse disease, t’ escape. I often have Heard him protest that your physician Should never be his heir.

_Corb._ Not I his heir?

_Mos._ Not your physician, sir.

_Corb._ O, no, no, no, 25 I do not mean it.

_Mos._ No, sir, nor their fees He cannot brook; he says they flay a man Before they kill him.

_Corb._ Right, I do conceive you.

_Mos._ And then they do it by experiment; For which the law not only doth absolve ’em, But gives them great reward: and he is loth 31 To hire his death so.

_Corb._ It is true, they kill With as much licence as a judge.

_Mos._ Nay, more; For he but kills, sir, where the law condemns, And these can kill him too.

_Corb._ Ay, or me; 35 Or any man. How does his apoplex? Is that strong on him still?

_Mos._ Most violent. His speech is broken, and his eyes are set, His face drawn longer than ’t was wont——

_Corb._ How! how! Stronger than he was wont?

_Mos._ No, sir; his face 40 Drawn longer than ’t was wont.

_Corb._ O, good!

_Mos._ His mouth Is ever gaping, and his eyelids hang.

_Corb._ Good.

_Mos._ A freezing numbness stiffens all his joints, And makes the colour of his flesh like lead.

_Corb._ ’T is good.

_Mos._ His pulse beats slow, and dull.

_Corb._ Good symptoms still. 45

_Mos._ And from his brain——

_Corb._ Ha? How? Not from his brain?

_Mos._ Yes, sir, and from his brain—

_Corb._ I conceive you; good.

_Mos._ Flows a cold sweat, with a continual rheum, Forth the resolved corners of his eyes.

_Corb._ Is ’t possible? Yet I am better, ha! 50 How does he with the swimming of his head?

_Mos._ O, sir, ’t is past the scotomy;[1577] he now Hath lost his feeling, and hath left to snort: You hardly can perceive him, that he breathes.

_Corb._ Excellent, excellent! sure I shall outlast him: 55 This makes me young again, a score of years.

_Mos._ I was a-coming for you, sir.

_Corb._ Has he made his will? What has he giv’n me?

_Mos._ No, sir.

_Corb._ Nothing! ha?

_Mos._ He has not made his will, sir.

_Corb._ Oh, oh, oh! What then did Voltore, the lawyer, here? 60

_Mos._ He smelt a carcase, sir, when he but heard My master was about his testament; As I did urge him to it for your good——

_Corb._ He came unto him, did he? I thought so.

_Mos._ Yes, and presented him this piece of plate. 65

_Corb._ To be his heir?

_Mos._ I do not know, sir.

_Corb._ True: I know it too.

_Mos._ [_Aside._] By your own scale, sir.

_Corb._ Well, I shall prevent him yet. See, Mosca, look, Here I have brought a bag of bright chequins,[1578] Will quite lay down his plate.

_Mos._ [_taking the bag._] Yea, marry, sir. 70 This is true physic, this your sacred medicine; No talk of opiates to this great elixir!

_Corb._ ’T is _aurum palpabile_, if not _potabile_.

_Mos._ It shall be minister’d to him in his bowl.

_Corb._ Ay, do, do, do.

_Mos._ Most blessed cordial! 75 This will recover him.

_Corb._ Yes, do, do, do.

_Mos._ I think it were not best, sir.

_Corb._ What?

_Mos._ To recover him.

_Corb._ O, no, no, no; by no means.

_Mos._ Why, sir, this Will work some strange effect, if he but feel it.

_Corb._ ’T is true, therefore forbear; I ’ll take my venture: 80 Give me ’t again.

_Mos._ At no hand: pardon me: You shall not do yourself that wrong, sir. I Will so advise you, you shall have it all.

_Corb._ How?

_Mos._ All, sir; ’t is your right, your own; no man Can claim a part: ’t is yours without a rival, 85 Decreed by destiny.

_Corb._ How, how, good Mosca?

_Mos._ I’ll tell you, sir. This fit he shall recover.—

_Corb._ I do conceive you.

_Mos._ And on first advantage Of his gain’d sense, will I re-importune him Unto the making of his testament: 90 And show him this. [_Pointing to the money._]

_Corb._ Good, good.

_Mos._ ’T is better yet. If you will hear, sir.

_Corb._ Yes, with all my heart.

_Mos._ Now would I counsel you, make home with speed; There, frame a will; whereto you shall inscribe My master your sole heir.

_Corb._ And disinherit 95 My son?

_Mos._ O, sir, the better: for that colour[1579] Shall make it much more taking.

_Corb._ O, but colour?

_Mos._ This will, sir, you shall send it unto me. Now, when I come to inforce, as I will do, Your cares, your watchings, and your many prayers, 100 Your more than many gifts, your this day’s present, And last, produce your will; where, without thought, Or least regard, unto your proper issue, A son so brave, and highly meriting, The stream of your diverted love hath thrown you 105 Upon my master, and made him your heir; He cannot be so stupid, or stone-dead, But out of conscience and mere gratitude——

_Corb._ He must pronounce me his?

_Mos._ ’T is true.

_Corb._ This plot Did I think on before.

_Mos._ I do believe it. 110

_Corb._ Do you not believe it?

_Mos._ Yes, sir,

_Corb._ Mine own project.

_Mos._ Which, when he hath done, sir——

_Corb._ Publish’d me his heir?

_Mos._ And you so certain to survive him——

_Corb._ Ay.

_Mos._ Being so lusty a man——

_Corb._ ’T is true.

_Mos._ Yes, sir——

_Corb._ I thought on that too. See, how he should be 115 The very organ to express my thoughts!

_Mos._ You have not only done yourself a good——

_Corb._ But multipli’d it on my son.

_Mos._ ’T is right, sir.

_Corb._ Still, my invention.

_Mos._ ’Las, sir! heaven knows, It hath been all my study, all my care, 120 (I e’en grow gray withal,) now to work things——

_Corb._ I do conceive, sweet Mosca.

_Mos._ You are he For whom I labour here.

_Corb._ Ay, do, do, do: I ’ll straight about it. [_Going._]

_Mos._ [_Aside._] Rook go with you,[1580] raven!

_Corb._ I know thee honest.

_Mos._ You do lie, sir!

_Corb._ And—— 125

_Mos._ Your knowledge is no better than your ears, sir.

_Corb._ I do not doubt to be a father to thee.

_Mos._ Nor I to gull my brother of his blessing.

_Corb._ I may ha’ my youth restor’d to me, why not?

_Mos._ Your worship is a precious ass!

_Corb._ What sayst thou?

_Mos._ I do desire your worship to make haste, sir. 131

_Corb._ ’T is done, ’t is done; I go. [_Exit_]

_Volp._ [_leaping from his couch._] O, I shall burst! Let out my sides, let out my sides——

_Mos._ Contain Your flux of laughter, sir: you know this hope Is such a bait, it covers any hook. 135

_Volp._ O, but thy working, and thy placing it! I cannot hold; good rascal, let me kiss thee: I never knew thee in so rare a humour.

_Mos._ Alas, sir, I but do as I am taught; Follow your grave instructions; give ’em words; 140 Pour oil into their ears, and send them hence.

_Volp._ ’T is true, ’t is true. What a rare punishment Is avarice to itself!

_Mos._ Ay, with our help, sir.

_Volp._ So many cares, so many maladies, So many fears attending on old age. 145 Yea, so often call’d on, as no wish Can be more frequent with ’em, their limbs faint, Their senses dull, their seeing, hearing, going, All dead before them; yea, their very teeth, Their instruments of eating, failing them: 150 Yet this is reckon’d life! Nay, here was one, Is now gone home, that wishes to live longer! Feels not his gout, nor palsy; feigns himself Younger by scores of years, flatters his age With confident belying it, hopes he may 155 With charms like Aeson, have his youth restor’d; And with these thoughts so battens, as if fate Would be as easily cheated on as he, And all turns air! Who ’s that there, now? a third! _Another knocks_.

_Mos._ Close, to your couch again; I hear his voice. 160 It is Corvino, our spruce merchant.

_Volp._ [_Lies down as before_.] Dead.

_Mos._ Another bout, sir, with your eyes [_Anointing them_]. Who ’s there?

SCENE V.[1581]

MOSCA, VOLPONE. [_Enter_] CORVINO.

Signior Corvino! come most wish’d for! O, How happy were you, if you knew it, now!

_Corv._ Why? what? wherein?

_Mos._ The tardy hour is come, sir.

_Corv._ He is not dead?

_Mos._ Not dead, sir, but as good; He knows no man.

_Corv._ How shall I do then?

_Mos._ Why, sir? 5

_Corv._ I have brought him here a pearl.

_Mos._ Perhaps he has So much remembrance left as to know you, sir: He still calls on you; nothing but your name Is in his mouth. Is your pearl orient,[1582] sir?

_Corv._ Venice was never owner of the like. 10

_Volp._ [_faintly._] Signior Corvino!

_Mos._ Hark!

_Volp._ Signior Corvino.

_Mos._ He calls you; step and give it him.— He’s here, sir. And he has brought you a rich pearl.

_Corv._ How do you, sir? Tell him it doubles the twelve carat.

_Mos._ Sir, He cannot understand, his hearing’s gone; 15 And yet it comforts him to see you——

_Corv._ Say I have a diamond for him, too.

_Mos._ Best show ’t, sir; Put it into his hand: ’t is only there He apprehends: he has his feeling yet. See how he grasps it!

_Corv._ ’Las, good gentleman! 20 How pitiful the sight is!

_Mos._ Tut, forget, sir. The weeping of an heir should still be laughter Under a visor.

_Corv._ Why, am I his heir?

_Mos._ Sir, I am sworn, I may not show the will Till he be dead: but here has been Corbaccio, Here has been Voltore, here were others too, 26 I cannot number ’em, they were so many; All gaping here for legacies: but I, Taking the vantage of his naming you, _Signior Corvino_, _Signior Corvino_, took 30 Paper, and pen, and ink, and there I ask’d him Whom he would have his heir! _Corvino_. Who Should be executor? _Corvino_. And To any question he was silent to, I still interpreted the nods he made, 35 Through weakness, for consent: and sent home th’ others, Nothing bequeath’d them, but to cry and curse.

_Corv._ O, my dear Mosca. (_They embrace._) Does he not perceive us?

_Mos._ No more than a blind harper. He knows no man, No face of friend, nor name of any servant, 40 Who ’t was that fed him last, or gave him drink. Not those he hath begotten, or brought up, Can he remember.

_Corv._ Has he children?

_Mos._ Bastards, Some dozen, or more, that he begot on beggars, Gypsies, and Jews, and black-moors, when he was drunk. 45 Knew you not that, sir? ’t is the common fable, The dwarf, the fool, the eunuch, are all his; He’s the true father of his family, In all save me:—but he has giv’n ’em nothing.

_Corv._ That’s well, that’s well! Art sure he does not hear us? 50

_Mos._ Sure, sir! why, look you, credit your own sense. [_Shouts in_ VOL.’s _ear_.] The pox approach, and add to your diseases, If it would send you hence the sooner, sir, For your incontinence, it hath deserv’d it Throughly and throughly, and the plague to boot!— 55 You may come near, sir.—Would you would once close Those filthy eyes of yours, that flow with slime Like two frog-pits; and those same hanging cheeks, Cover’d with hide instead of skin—Nay, help, sir[1583]—— That look like frozen dish-clouts set on end! 60

_Corv._ Or like an old smok’d wall, on which the rain Ran down in streaks!

_Mos._ Excellent, sir! speak out: You may be louder yet; a culverin Discharged in his ear would hardly bore it.

_Corv._ His nose is like a common sewer, still running. 65

_Mos._ ’T is good! And what his mouth?

_Corv._ A very draught.

_Mos._ O, stop it up——

_Corv._ By no means.

_Mos._ Pray you, let me: Faith I could stifle him rarely with a pillow As well as any woman that should keep him.

_Corv._ Do as you will; but I’ll begone.

_Mos._ Be so; 70 It is your presence makes him last so long.

_Corv._ I pray you use no violence.

_Mos._ No, sir! why? Why should you be thus scrupulous, pray you, sir?

_Corv._ Nay, at your discretion.

_Mos._ Well, good sir, be gone.

_Corv._ I will not trouble him now to take[1584] my pearl. 75

_Mos._ Puh! nor your diamond. What a needless care Is this afflicts you? Is not all here yours? Am not I here, whom you have made your creature? That owe my being to you?

_Corv._ Grateful Mosca! 79 Thou art my friend, my fellow, my companion, My partner, and shalt share in all my fortunes.

_Mos._ Excepting one.

_Corv._ What’s that?

_Mos._ Your gallant wife, sir. [_Exit_ CORV.] Now is he gone: we had no other means To shoot him hence but this.

_Volp._ My divine Mosca! 85 Thou hast to-day outgone thyself. Who’s there? _Another knocks._ I will be troubled with no more. Prepare Me music, dances, banquets, all delights; The Turk is not more sensual in his pleasures Than will Volpone. [_Exit_ MOS.] Let me see; a pearl! A diamond! plate! chequins! Good morning’s purchase.[1585] 90 Why, this is better than rob churches, yet; Or fat, by eating, once a month, a man—— [_Re-enter_ MOSCA.] Who is ’t?

_Mos._ The beauteous Lady Would-be, sir, Wife to the English knight, Sir Politic Would-be, (This is the style, sir, is directed me,) 95 Hath sent to know how you have slept to-night, And if you would be visited?

_Volp._ Not now: Some three hours hence.

_Mos._ I told the squire[1586] so much.

_Volp._ When I am high with mirth and wine; then then: 99 ’Fore heaven, I wonder at the desperate valour Of the bold English, that they dare let loose Their wives to all encounters!

_Mos._ Sir, this knight Had not his name for nothing, he is _politic_, And knows, howe’er his wife affect strange airs, She hath not yet the face to be dishonest: 105 But had she Signior Corvino’s wife’s face——

_Volp._ Hath she so rare a face?

_Mos._ O, sir, the wonder, The blazing star of Italy! a wench Of the first year, a beauty ripe as harvest! Whose skin is whiter than a swan all over, 110 Than silver, snow, or lilies; a soft lip, Would tempt you to eternity of kissing! And flesh that melteth in the touch to blood! Bright as your gold, and lovely as your gold!

_Volp._ Why had not I known this before?

_Mos._ Alas, sir, 115 Myself but yesterday discover’d it.

_Volp._ How might I see her?

_Mos._ O, not possible; She’s kept as warily as is your gold; Never does come abroad, never takes air But at a windore. All her looks are sweet, 120 As the first grapes or cherries, and are watch’d As near as they are.

_Volp._ I must see her.

_Mos._ Sir, There is a guard of ten spies thick upon her, All his whole household; each of which is set Upon his fellow, and have all their charge, 125 When he goes out, when he comes in, examin’d.

_Volp._ I will go see her, though but at her windore.

_Mos._ In some disguise then.

_Volp._ That is true; I must Maintain mine own shape still the same: we’ll think. [_Exeunt._]

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._]

ACT III

SCENE I.[1644]

[_Enter_] MOSCA.

_Mos._ I fear I shall begin to grow in love With my dear self, and my most prosp’rous parts, They do so spring and burgeon; I can feel A whimsy i’ my blood: I know not how, Success hath made me wanton. I could skip 5 Out of my skin now, like a subtle snake, I am so limber. O! your parasite Is a most precious thing, dropt from above, Not bred ’mongst clods and clodpoles, here on earth. I muse, the mystery[1645] was not made a science, 10 It is so liberally profest! Almost All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites or sub-parasites. And yet I mean not those that have your bare town-art, To know who’s fit to feed them; have no house, 15 No family, no care, and therefore mould Tales for men’s ears, to bait that sense; or get Kitchen-invention, and some stale receipts To please the belly, and the groin; nor those, With their court dog-tricks, that can fawn and fleer, 20 Make their revenue out of leg[1646] and faces, Echo my lord, and lick away a moth: But your fine elegant rascal, that can rise And stoop, almost together, like an arrow; Shoot through the air as nimbly as a star; 25 Turn short as doth a swallow; and be here, And there, and here, and yonder, all at once; Present to any humour, all occasion; And change a visor swifter than a thought! 29 This is the creature had the art born with him; Toils not to learn it, but doth practise it Out of most excellent nature: and such sparks Are the true parasites, others but their zanies.

SCENE II.[1647]

MOSCA. [_Enter_] BONARIO.

Who’s this? Bonario, old Corbaccio’s son? The person I was bound to seek. Fair sir, You are happ’ly met.

_Bon._ That cannot be by thee.

_Mos._ Why, sir?

_Bon._ Nay, pray thee know thy way, and leave me: I would be loth to interchange discourse 5 With such a mate[1648] as thou art.

_Mos._ Courteous sir, Scorn not my poverty.

_Bon._ Not I, by heaven; But thou shalt give me leave to hate thy baseness.

_Mos._ Baseness!

_Bon._ Ay; answer me, is not thy sloth Sufficient argument? thy flattery? 10 Thy means of feeding?

_Mos._ Heaven be good to me! These imputations are too common, sir, And easily stuck on virtue when she’s poor. You are unequal[1649] to me, and however Your sentence may be righteous, yet you are not, 15 That, ere you know me, thus proceed in censure: St. Mark bear witness ’gainst you, ’t is inhuman. [_Weeps._]

_Bon._ [_Aside._] What! does he weep? the sign is soft and good: I do repent me that I was so harsh.

_Mos._ ’T is true, that, sway’d by strong necessity, 20 I am enforc’d to eat my careful bread With too much obsequy; ’t is true, beside, That I am fain to spin mine own poor raiment Out of my mere observance, being not born To a free fortune: but that I have done 25 Base offices, in rending friends asunder, Dividing families, betraying counsels, Whisp’ring false lies, or mining men with praises, Train’d their credulity with perjuries, Corrupted chastity, or am in love 30 With mine own tender ease, but would not rather Prove the most rugged and laborious course, That might redeem my present estimation, Let me here perish, in all hope of goodness.

_Bon._ [_Aside._] This cannot be a personated passion.— 35 I was to blame, so to mistake thy nature; Prithee forgive me: and speak out thy business.

_Mos._ Sir, it concerns you; and though I may seem At first to make a main offence in manners, And in my gratitude unto my master, 40 Yet for the pure love which I bear all right, And hatred of the wrong, I must reveal it. This very hour your father is in purpose To disinherit you——

_Bon._ How!

_Mos._ And thrust you forth, As a mere stranger to his blood: ’t is true, sir. The work no way engageth me, but as 45 I claim an interest in the general state Of goodness and true virtue, which I hear T’ abound in you; and for which mere respect, Without a second aim, sir, I have done it. 50

_Bon._ This tale hath lost thee much of the late trust Thou hadst with me; it is impossible. I know not how to lend it any thought, My father should be so unnatural.

_Mos._ It is a confidence that well becomes 55 Your piety; and form’d, no doubt, it is From your own simple innocence, which makes Your wrong more monstrous and abhorr’d. But, sir, I now will tell you more. This very minute, It is, or will be doing; and if you 60 Shall be but pleas’d to go with me, I ’ll bring you, I dare not say where you shall see, but where Your ear shall be a witness of the deed; Hear yourself written bastard, and profest The common issue of the earth.

_Bon._ I’m maz’d! 65

_Mos._ Sir, if I do it not, draw your just sword, And score your vengeance on my front and face; Mark me your villain: you have too much wrong, And I do suffer for you, sir. My heart 69 Weeps blood in anguish——

_Bon._ Lead; I follow thee. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE III.[1650]

[_Enter_] VOLPONE, NANO, ANDROGYNO, CASTRONE.

_Volp._ Mosca stays long, methinks.—Bring forth your sports, And help to make the wretched time more sweet.

_Nan._ “Dwarf, fool, and eunuch, well met here we be. A question it were now, whether of us three, Being all the known delicates of a rich man, 5 In pleasing him, claim the precedency can?”

_Cas._ “I claim for myself.”

_And._ “And so doth the fool.”

_Nan._ “’T is foolish indeed: let me set you both to school. First for your dwarf, he’s little and witty, And everything, as it is little, is pretty; 10 Else why do men say to a creature of my shape, So soon as they see him, ’It’s a pretty little ape’? And why a pretty ape, but for pleasing imitation Of greater men’s actions, in a ridiculous fashion? 14 Beside, this feat[1651] body of mine doth not crave Half the meat, drink, and cloth, one of your bulks will have. Admit your fool’s face be the mother of laughter, Yet, for his brain, it must always come after: And though that do feed him, it ’s a pitiful case, His body is beholding to such a bad face.” 20 _One knocks._

_Volp._ Who’s there? My couch; away! look! Nano, see: [_Exeunt_ AND. _and_ CAS.] Give me my caps first—go, inquire. [_Exit_ NANO.] Now, Cupid Send it be Mosca, and with fair return!

_Nan._ [_within._] It is the beauteous madam—

_Volp._ Would-be—is it?

_Nan._ The same.

_Volp._ Now torment on me! Squire her in; 25 For she will enter, or dwell here for ever: Nay, quickly. [_Retires to his couch._] That my fit were past! I fear A second hell too, that my loathing this Will quite expel my appetite to the other: Would she were taking now her tedious leave. Lord, how it threats me what I am to suffer! 31

SCENE IV.[1652]

[_To him enter_] NANO, LADY POLITIC WOULD-BE.

_Lady P._ I thank you, good sir. Pray you signify Unto your patron I am here.—This band Shows not my neck enough.—I trouble you, sir; Let me request you bid one of my women Come hither to me. In good faith, I am drest 5 Most favourably to-day! It is no matter: ’T is well enough. [_Enter_ 1 Waiting-woman.] Look, see these petulant things, How they have done this!

_Volp._ [_Aside._] I do feel the fever Ent’ring in at mine ears; O, for a charm, To fright it hence!

_Lady P._ Come nearer: is this curl 10 In his right place, or this? Why is this higher Than all the rest? You ha’ not wash’d your eyes yet! Or do they not stand even i’ your head? Where is your fellow? call her. [_Exit_ 1 Woman.]

_Nan._ Now, St. Mark Deliver us! anon she ’ll beat her women, 15 Because her nose is red.

[_Re-enter_ 1 _with_ 2 Woman.]

_Lady P._ I pray you view This tire,[1653] forsooth: are all things apt, or no?

_1 Wom._ One hair a little here sticks out, forsooth.

_Lady P._ Does ’t so, forsooth! and where was your dear sight, When it did so, forsooth! What now! bird-ey’d?[1654] 20 And you, too? Pray you, both approach and mend it. Now, by that light I muse you ’re not asham’d! I, that have preach’d these things so oft unto you, Read you the principles, argu’d all the grounds, Disputed every fitness, every grace, 25 Call’d you to counsel of so frequent dressings—

_Nan._ (_Aside._) More carefully than of your fame or honour.

_Lady P._ Made you acquainted what an ample dowry The knowledge of these things would be unto you, Able alone to get you noble husbands 30 At your return: and you thus to neglect it! Besides, you seeing what a curious nation Th’ Italians are, what will they say of me? “The English lady cannot dress herself.” Here ’s a fine imputation to our country! 35 Well, go your ways, and stay i’ the next room. This fucus[1655] was too coarse too; it ’s no matter.— Good sir, you ’ll give ’em entertainment? [_Exeunt_ NANO _and_ Waiting-women.]

_Volp._ The storm comes toward me.

_Lady P._ [_Goes to the couch._] How does my Volpone?

_Volp._ Troubl’d with noise, I cannot sleep; I dreamt 40 That a strange fury ent’red now my house, And, with the dreadful tempest of her breath, Did cleave my roof asunder.

_Lady P._ Believe me, and I Had the most fearful dream, could I remember ’t:——

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Out on my fate! I have given her the occasion 45 How to torment me: she will tell me hers.

_Lady P._ Methought the golden mediocrity, Polite, and delicate——

_Volp._ O, if you do love me, No more: I sweat, and suffer, at the mention Of any dream; feel how I tremble yet. 50

_Lady P._ Alas, good soul! the passion of the heart. Seed-pearl were good now, boil’d with syrup of apples, Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills, Your elecampane[1656] root, myrobalanes[1657]——

_Volp._ Ay me, I have ta’en a grasshopper by the wing![1658] 55

_Lady P._ Burnt silk and amber. You have muscadel Good i’ the house——

_Volp._ You will not drink, and part?

_Lady P._ No, fear not that. I doubt we shall not get Some English saffron, half a dram would serve; 59 Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints; Bugloss, and barley-meal——

_Volp._ [_Aside._] She ’s in again! Before I feign’d diseases, now I have one.

_Lady P._ And these appli’d with a right scarlet cloth.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Another flood of words! a very torrent!

_Lady P._ Shall I, sir, make you a poultice?

_Volp._ No, no, no. 65 I ’m very well, you need prescribe no more.

_Lady P._ I have a little studied physic; but now I ’m all for music, save, i’ the forenoons, An hour or two for painting. I would have A lady, indeed, to have all letters and arts, 70 Be able to discourse, to write, to paint, But principal, as Plato holds, your music, And so does wise Pythagoras, I take it, Is your true rapture: when there is concent[1659] In face, in voice, and clothes: and is, indeed, 75 Out sex’s chiefest ornament.

_Volp._ The poet As old in time as Plato, and as knowing, Says that your highest female grace is silence.

_Lady P._ Which of your poets? Petrarch, or Tasso, or Dante? Guarini? Ariosto? Aretine? 80 Cieco di Hadria? I have read them all.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Is everything a cause to my destruction?

_Lady P._ I think I have two or three of ’em about me.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] The sun, the sea, will sooner both stand still 84 Than her eternal tongue! nothing can scape it.

_Lady P._ Here ’s Pastor Fido——

_Volp._ [_Aside._ ] Profess obstinate silence; That ’s now my safest.

_Lady P._ All our English writers, I mean such as are happy in th’ Italian, Will deign to steal out of this author, mainly; Almost as much as from Montagnié: 90 He has so modern and facile a vein, Fitting the time, and catching the court-ear! Your Petrarch is more passionate, yet he, In days of sonnetting, trusted ’em with much: Dante is hard, and few can understand him. 95 But for a desperate wit, there ’s Aretine; Only his pictures are a little obscene—— You mark me not.

_Volp._ Alas, my mind ’s perturb’d.

_Lady P._ Why, in such cases, we must cure ourselves, Make use of our philosophy——

_Volp._ Oh me! 100

_Lady P._ And as we find our passions do rebel, Encounter them with reason, or divert ’em, By giving scope unto some other humour Of lesser danger: as, in politic bodies, There ’s nothing more doth overwhelm the judgment, 105 And cloud the understanding, than too much Settling and fixing, and, as ’t were, subsiding Upon one object. For the incorporating Or these same outward things, into that part Which we call mental, leaves some certain faeces 110 That stop the organs, and, as Plato says, Assassinate our knowledge.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Now, the spirit Of patience help me!

_Lady P._ Come, in faith, I must Visit you more a days; and make you well: Laugh and be lusty.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] My good angel save me! 115

_Lady P._ There was but one sole man in all the world With whom I e’er could sympathise; and he Would lie you, often, three, four hours together To hear me speak; and be sometime so rapt, As he would answer me quite from the purpose, 120 Like you, and you are like him, just. I ’ll discourse, An ’t be but only, sir, to bring you asleep, How we did spend our time and loves together, For some six years.

_Volp._ Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!

_Lady P._ For we were coaetanei,[1660] and brought up—— 125

_Volp._ Some power, some fate, some fortune rescue me!

SCENE V.[1661]

[_To them enter_] MOSCA.

_Mos._ God save you, madam!

_Lady P._ Good sir.

_Volp._ Mosca! welcome, Welcome to my redemption.

_Mos._ Why, sir?

_Volp._ Oh, Rid me of this my torture, quickly, there; My madam with the everlasting voice: The bells, in time of pestilence, ne’er made 5 Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion! The Cock-pit comes not near it. All my house, But now, steam’d like a bath with her thick breath, A lawyer could not have been heard; nor scarce Another woman, such a hail of words 10 She has let fall. For hell’s sake, rid her hence.

_Mos._ Has she presented?

_Volp._ Oh, I do not care; I ’ll take her absence upon any price, With any loss.

_Mos._ Madam——

_Lady P._ I ha’ brought your patron A toy, a cap here, of mine own work.

_Mos._ ’T is well. 15 I had forgot to tell you I saw your knight Where you would little think it.——

_Lady P._ Where?

_Mos._ Marry, Where yet, if you make haste, you may apprehend him, Rowing upon the water in a gondole, With the most cunning courtesan of Venice. 20

_Lady P._ Is ’t true?

_Mos._ Pursue ’em, and believe your eyes: Leave me to make your gift. [_Exit_ LADY P. _hastily_.] I knew ’t would take: For, lightly, they that use themselves most licence, Are still most jealous.

_Volp._ Mosca, hearty thanks For thy quick fiction, and delivery of me. 25 Now to my hopes, what sayst thou?

[_Re-enter_ LADY P. WOULD-BE.]

_Lady P._ But do you hear, sir?——

_Volp._ Again! I fear a paroxysm.

_Lady P._ Which way Row’d they together?

_Mos._ Toward the Rialto.

_Lady P._ I pray you lend me your dwarf. 29

_Mos._ I pray you take him. [_Exit_ LADY P.] Your hopes, sir, are like happy blossoms, fair, And promise timely fruit, if you will stay But the maturing; keep you at your couch, Corbaccio will arrive straight, with the will; When he is gone, I’ll tell you more. [_Exit._]

_Volp._ My blood, 35 My spirits are return’d; I am alive: And, like your wanton gamester at primero, Whose thought had whisper’d to him, not go[1662] less, Methinks I lie, and draw[1663]——for an encounter.[1663]

SCENE VI.[1664]

[_Enter_] MOSCA, BONARIO.

_Mos._ Sir, here conceal’d [_Opening a door_] you may hear all. But, pray you, Have patience, sir; [_One knocks._] the same’s your father knocks: I am compell’d to leave you. [_Exit._]

_Bon._ Do so.—Yet Cannot my thought imagine this a truth. [_Goes in._]

SCENE VII.[1665]

[_Enter_] MOSCA, CORVINO, CELIA.—

_Mos._ Death on me! you are come too soon, what meant you? Did not I say I would send?

_Corv._ Yes, but I fear’d You might forget it, and then they prevent us.

_Mos._ Prevent! [_Aside._] Did e’er man haste so for his horns? A courtier would not ply it so for a place. 5 —Well, now there is no helping it, stay here; I’ll presently return. [_Exit._]

_Corv._ Where are you, Celia? You know not wherefore I have brought you hither?

_Cel._ Not well, except you told me.

_Corv._ Now I will: Hark hither. [_They retire to one side._]

[_Re-enter_ MOSCA.]

_Mos._ (_to_ BONARIO) Sir, your father hath sent word, It will be half an hour ere he come; 11 And therefore, if you please to walk the while Into that gallery—at the upper end, There are some books to entertain the time: And I’ll take care no man shall come unto you, sir. 15

_Bon._ Yes, I will stay there.—[_Aside._] I do doubt this fellow. [_Exit._]

_Mos._ [_Looking after him._] There; he is far enough; he can hear nothing: And for his father, I can keep him off.[1666]

_Corv._ Nay, now, there is no starting back, and therefore, Resolve upon it: I have so decreed. 20 It must be done. Nor would I move’t afore, Because I would avoid all shifts and tricks, That might deny me.

_Cel._ Sir, let me beseech you, Affect not these strange trials; if you doubt My chastity, why, lock me up for ever; 25 Make me the heir of darkness. Let me live Where I may please your fears, if not your trust.

_Corv._ Believe it, I have no such humour, I. All that I speak I mean; yet I’m not mad; 29 Not horn-mad, you see? Go to, show yourself Obedient, and a wife.

_Cel._ O heaven!

_Corv._ I say it, Do so.

_Cel._ Was this the train?

_Corv._ I ’ve told you reasons; What the physicians have set down; how much It may concern me; what my engagements are; My means, and the necessity of those means 35 For my recovery: wherefore, if you be Loyal and mine, be won, respect my venture.

_Cel._ Before your honour?

_Corv._ Honour! tut, a breath: There’s no such thing in nature; a mere term Invented to awe fools. What is my gold 40 The worse for touching, clothes for being look’d on? Why, this’s no more. An old decrepit wretch, That has no sense, no sinew; takes his meat With others’ fingers: only knows to gape When you do scald his gums; a voice, a shadow; And what can this man hurt you?

_Cel._ [_Aside._] Lord! what spirit 46 Is this hath ent’red him?

_Corv._ And for your fame, That’s such a jig; as if I would go tell it, Cry it on the Piazza! Who shall know it But he that cannot speak it, and this fellow, 50 Whose lips are i’ my pocket? Save yourself, (If you’ll proclaim’t, you may,) I know no other Should come to know it.

_Cel._ Are heaven and saints then nothing? Will they be blind or stupid?

_Corv._ How!

_Cel._ Good sir, Be jealous still, emulate them; and think 55 What hate they burn with toward every sin.

_Corv._ I grant you: if I thought it were a sin I would not urge you. Should I offer this To some young Frenchman, or hot Tuscan blood That had read Aretine, conn’d all his prints, 60 Knew every quirk within lust’s labyrinth, And were profest critic in lechery; And I would look upon him, and applaud him, This were a sin: but here, ’t is contrary, A pious work, mere charity for physic, 65 And honest polity, to assure mine own.

_Cel._ O heaven! canst thou suffer such a change?

_Volp._ Thou art mine honour, Mosca, and my pride, My joy, my tickling, my delight! Go bring ’em.

_Mos._ [_Advancing._] Please you draw near, sir.

_Corv._ Come on, what—— You will not be rebellious? By that light—— 71

_Mos._ Sir, Signior Corvino, here, is come to see you.

_Volp._ Oh!

_Mos._ And hearing of the consultation had, So lately, for your health, is come to offer, Or rather, sir, to prostitute——

_Corv._ Thanks, sweet Mosca. 75

_Mos._ Freely, unask’d, or unintreated——

_Corv._ Well.

_Mos._ As the true fervent instance of his love, His own most fair and proper wife; the beauty Only of price in Venice——

_Corv._ ’T is well urg’d.

_Mos._ To be your comfortress, and to preserve you. 80

_Volp._ Alas, I am past, already! Pray you, thank him For his good care and promptness; but for that, ’T is a vain labour e’en to fight ’gainst heaven; Applying fire to stone—uh, uh, uh, uh! [_Coughing._] Making a dead leaf grow again. I take 85 His wishes gently, though; and you may tell him What I have done for him: marry, my state is hopeless. Will him to pray for me; and to use his fortune With reverence when he comes to’t.

_Mos._ Do you hear, sir? Go to him with your wife.

_Corv._ Heart of my father! 90 Wilt thou persist thus? Come, I pray thee, come. Thou seest ’t is nothing, Celia. By this hand I shall grow violent. Come, do’t, I say.

_Cel._ Sir, kill me, rather: I will take down poison, Eat burning coals, do anything——

_Corv._ Be damn’d! 95 Heart, I will drag thee hence home by the hair; Cry thee a strumpet through the streets; rip up Thy mouth unto thine ears; and slit thy nose, Like a raw rochet![1667]—Do not tempt me; come, Yield, I am loth—Death! I will buy some slave 100 Whom I will kill, and bind thee to him alive; And at my windore hang you forth, devising Some monstrous crime, which I, in capital letters, Will eat into thy flesh with aquafortis, 104 And burning cor’sives,[1668] on this stubborn breast. Now, by the blood thou hast incens’d, I’ll do it!

_Cel._ Sir, what you please, you may; I am your martyr.

_Corv._ Be not thus obstinate, I ha’ not deserv’d it: Think who it is intreats you. Prithee, sweet;— Good faith, thou shalt have jewels, gowns, attires, 110 What thou wilt think, and ask. Do but go kiss him. Or touch him but. For my sake. At my suit— This once. No! not! I shall remember this. Will you disgrace me thus? Do you thirst my undoing?

_Mos._ Nay, gentle lady, be advis’d.

_Corv._ No, no. 115 She has watch’d her time. God’s precious, this is scurvy, ’T is very scurvy; and you are——

_Mos._ Nay, good sir.

_Corv._ An arrant locust—by heaven, a locust!— Whore, crocodile, that hast thy tears prepar’d, Expecting how thou’lt bid ’em flow——

_Mos._ Nay, pray you, sir! 120 She will consider.

_Cel._ Would my life would serve To satisfy——

_Corv._ ’Sdeath! if she would but speak to him, And save my reputation, ’t were somewhat; But spitefully to affect my utter ruin!

_Mos._ Ay, now you have put your fortune in her hands. 125 Why i’ faith, it is her modesty, I must quit her. If you were absent, she would be more coming; I know it: and dare undertake for her. What woman can before her husband? Pray you, Let us depart and leave her here.

_Corv._ Sweet Celia, 130 Thou mayest redeem all yet; I’ll say no more: If not, esteem yourself as lost. Nay, stay there. [_Exit with_ MOSCA.]

_Cel._ O God, and his good angels! whither, whither, Is shame fled human breasts? that with such ease, 134 Men dare put off your honours, and their own? Is that, which ever was a cause of life, Now plac’d beneath the basest circumstance, And modesty an exile made, for money?

_Volp._ Ay, in Corvino, and such earth-fed minds. _He leaps from his couch._ That never tasted the true heaven of love. 140 Assure thee, Celia, he that would sell thee, Only for hope of gain, and that uncertain, He would have sold his part of Paradise For ready money, had he met a cope-man.[1669] Why art thou maz’d to see me thus reviv’d? Rather applaud thy beauty’s miracle; 146 ’T is thy great work, that hath, not now alone, But sundry times rais’d me, in several shapes, And, but this morning, like a mountebank, To see thee at thy windore: ay, before 150 I would have left my practice, for thy love, In varying figures. I would have contended With the blue Proteus, or the horned flood.[1670] Now art thou welcome.

_Cel._ Sir!

_Volp._ Nay, fly me not, Nor let thy false imagination 155 That I was bed-rid, make thee think I am so: Thou shalt not find it. I am now as fresh, As hot, as high, and in as jovial plight As, when, in that so celebrated scene, At recitation of our comedy, 160 For entertainment of the great Valois, I acted young Antinous; and attracted The eyes and ears of all the ladies present, To admire each graceful gesture, note, and footing. [_Sings._]

Song[1671]

Come, my Celia, let us prove 165 While we can, the sports of love, Time will not be ours for ever, He, at length, our good will sever; Spend not then his gifts in vain: Suns that set may rise again; 170 But if once we lose this light, ’T is with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys. Cannot we delude the eyes 175 Of a few poor household spies? Or his easier ears beguile, Thus removed by our wile? ’T is no sin love’s fruits to steal; But the sweet thefts to reveal: 180 To be taken, to be seen, These have crimes accounted been.

_Cel._ Some serene[1672] blast me, or dire lightning strike This my offending face!

_Volp._ Why droops my Celia? Thou hast, in place of a base husband found 185 A worthy lover: use thy fortune well, With secrecy and pleasure. See, behold, What thou art queen of; not in expectation, As I feed others: but possess’d and crown’d. See, here, a rope of pearl; and each more orient[1673] Then the brave Aegyptian queen carous’d: 191 Dissolve and drink ’em. See, a carbuncle, May put out both the eyes of our St. Mark; A diamond would have bought Lollia Paulina, When she came in like star-light, hid with jewels 195 That were the spoils of provinces; take these And wear, and lose ’em; yet remains an earring To purchase them again, and this whole state. A gem but worth a private patrimony Is nothing; we will eat such at a meal. 200 The heads of parrots, tongues of nightingales, The brains of peacocks, and of estriches, Shall be our food, and, could we get the phoenix, Though nature lost her kind, she were our dish.

_Cel._ Good sir, these things might move a mind affected 205 With such delights; but I, whose innocence Is all I can think wealthy, or worth th’ enjoying, And which, once lost, I have nought to lose beyond it, Cannot be taken with these sensual baits: If you have conscience——

_Volp._ ’T is the beggar’s virtue; If thou hast wisdom, hear me, Celia. 211 Thy baths shall be the juice of July-flowers, Spirit of roses, and of violets, The milk of unicorns, and panthers’ breath 214 Gather’d in bags, and mix’d with Cretan wines. Our drink shall be prepared gold and amber; Which we will take until my root whirl round With the vertigo: and my dwarf shall dance, My eunuch sing, my fool make up the antic, 219 Whilst we, in changed shapes, act Ovid’s tales, Thou, like Europa now, and I like Jove, Then I like Mars, and thou like Erycine: So of the rest, till we have quite run through, And wearied all the fables of the gods. 224 Then will I have thee in more modern forms, Attired like some sprightly dame of France, Brave Tuscan lady, or proud Spanish beauty; Sometimes unto the Persian sophy’s wife; Or the grand signior’s mistress; and for change, To one of our most artful courtesans, 230 Or some quick Negro, or cold Russian; And I will meet thee in as many shapes: Where we may so transfuse our wand’ring souls Out at our lips, and score up sums of pleasures, [_Sings._] That the curious shall not know 235 How to tell them as they flow; And the envious, when they find What their number is, be pin’d.

_Cel._ If you have ears that will be pierc’d—or eyes That can be open’d—a heart that may be touch’d— 240 Or any part that yet sounds man about you— If you have touch of holy saints—or heaven— Do me the grace to let me scape:—if not, Be bountiful and kill me. You do know, I am a creature, hither ill betray’d, 245 By one whose shame I would forget it were: If you will deign me neither of these graces, Yet feed your wrath, sir, rather than your lust, (It is a vice comes nearer manliness,) And punish that unhappy crime of nature, 250 Which you miscall my beauty: flay my face, Or poison it with ointments for seducing Your blood to this rebellion. Rub these hands With what may cause an eating leprosy, E’en to my bones and marrow: anything 255 That may disfavour me, save in my honour— And I will kneel to you, pray for you, pay down A thousand hourly vows, sir, for your health; Report, and think you virtuous——

_Volp._ Think me cold, Frozen, and impotent, and so report me? 260 That I had Nestor’s hernia, thou wouldst think. I do degenerate, and abuse my nation, To play with opportunity thus long; I should have done the act, and then have parley’d. Yield, or I’ll force thee. [_Seizes her._]

_Cel._ O! just God!

_Volp._ In vain—— 265

_Bon._ (_leaps out from where_ MOSCA _had placed him_.) Forbear, foul ravisher! libidinous swine! Free the forc’d lady, or thou diest, impostor. But that I’m loth to snatch thy punishment Out of the hand of justice, thou shouldst yet Be made the timely sacrifice of vengeance, 270 Before this altar and this dross, thy idol.—— Lady, let ’s quit the place, it is the den Of villany; fear nought, you have a guard: And he ere long shall meet his just reward. 274 [_Exeunt_ BON. _and_ CEL.]

_Volp._ Fall on me, roof, and bury me in ruin! Become my grave, that wert my shelter! O! I am unmask’d, unspirited, undone, Betray’d to beggary, to infamy——

[SCENE VIII.][1674]

VOLPONE. [_Enter_] MOSCA, [_wounded and bleeding_.]

_Mos._ Where shall I run, most wretched shame of men, To beat out my unlucky brains?

_Volp._ Here, here. What! dost thou bleed?

_Mos._ O, that his well-driv’n sword Had been so courteous to have cleft me down Unto the navel, ere I liv’d to see 5 My life, my hopes, my spirits, my patron, all Thus desperately engaged by my error!

_Volp._ Woe on thy fortune!

_Mos._ And my follies, sir.

_Volp._ Thou hast made me miserable.

_Mos._ And myself, sir. Who would have thought he would have heark’ned so? 10

_Volp._ What shall we do?

_Mos._ I know not; if my heart Could expiate the mischance, I’d pluck it out. Will you be pleas’d to hang me, or cut my throat? And I’ll requite you, sir. Let’s die like Romans,[1675] Since we have liv’d like Grecians.

_They knock without._

_Volp._ Hark! who’s there? 15 I hear some footing; officers, the saffi,[1676] Come to apprehend us! I do feel the brand Hissing already at my forehead; now Mine ears are boring.

_Mos._ To your couch, sir, you, Make that place good, however. [VOLPONE _lies down as before_.] Guilty men 20 Suspect what they deserve still. Signior Corbaccio!

[SCENE IX.][1677]

[_To them enter_] CORBACCIO.

_Corb._ Why, how now, Mosca?

_Mos._ O, undone, amaz’d, sir. Your son, I know not by what accident, Acquainted with your purpose to my patron, Touching your will, and making him your heir, Ent’red our house with violence, his sword drawn, 5 Sought for you, called you wretch, unnatural, Vow’d he would kill you.

_Corb._ Me!

_Mos._ Yes, and my patron.

_Corb._ This act shall disinherit him indeed: Here is the will.

_Mos._ ’T is well, sir.

_Corb._ Right and well: Be you as careful now for me.

[_Enter_ VOLTORE _behind_.]

_Mos._ My life, sir, 10 Is not more tender’d; I am only yours.

_Corb._ How does he? Will he die shortly, think’st thou?

_Mos._ I fear He’ll outlast May.

_Corb._ To-day?

_Mos._ No, last out May, sir.

_Corb._ Couldst thou not gi’ him a dram?

_Mos._ O, by no means, sir.

_Corb._ Nay, I’ll not bid you.

_Volt._ [_coming forward._] This is a knave, I see. 15

_Mos._ [_Aside, seeing_ VOLT.] How! Signior Voltore! did he hear me?

_Volt._ Parasite!

_Mos._ Who ’s that?—O, sir, most timely welcome—

_Volt._ Scarce, To the discovery of your tricks, I fear. You are his, _only_? And mine also, are you not?

_Mos._ Who? I, sir!

_Volt._ You, sir. What device is this 20 About a will?

_Mos._ A plot for you, sir.

_Volt._ Come, Put not your foists[1678] upon me; I shall scent ’em.

_Mos._ Did you not hear it?

_Volt._ Yes, I hear Corbaccio Hath made your patron there his heir.

_Mos._ ’T is true, By my device, drawn to it by my plot, 25 With hope——

_Volt._ Your patron should reciprocate? And you have promis’d?

_Mos._ For your good I did, sir. Nay, more, I told his son, brought, hid him here, Where he might hear his father pass the deed; Being persuaded to it by this thought, sir, 30 That the unnaturalness, first, of the act, And then his father’s oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did mean t’ help on), would sure enrage him To do some violence upon his parent, 34 On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope. Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My only aim was to dig you a fortune Out of these two rotten sepulchres——

_Volt._ I cry thee mercy, Mosca.

_Mos._ —Worth your patience, 40 And your great merit, sir. And see the change!

_Volt._ Why, what success?

_Mos._ Most hapless! you must help, sir. Whilst we expected th’ old raven, in comes Corvino’s wife, sent hither by her husband——

_Volt._ What, with a present?

_Mos._ No, sir, on visitation; 45 (I ’ll tell you how anon;) and staying long, The youth he grows impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wounds me, makes her swear (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) T’ affirm my patron to have done her rape: 50 Which how unlike it is, you see! and hence, With that pretext he ’s gone, t’ accuse his father, Defame my patron, defeat you——

_Volt._ Where ’s her husband? Let him be sent for straight.

_Mos._ Sir, I ’ll go fetch him.

_Volt._ Bring him to the Scrutineo.[1679]

_Mos._ Sir, I will. 55

_Volt._ This must be stopt.

_Mos._ O you do nobly, sir. Alas, ’t was labour’d all, sir, for your good; Nor was there want of counsel in the plot: But Fortune can, at any time, o’erthrow The projects of a hundred learned clerks, sir. 60

_Corb._ [_listening._] What ’s that?

_Volt._ Wilt please you, sir, to go along? [_Exit_ CORBACCIO, _followed by_ VOLTORE.]

_Mos._ Patron, go in, and pray for our success.

_Volp._ [_rising from his couch._] Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless! [_Exeunt._]

ACT IV

SCENE I.[1680]

[_Enter_] SIR POLITIC WOULD-BE, PEREGRINE.

_Sir P._ I told you, sir, it was a plot; you see What observation is! You mention’d me For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met here in this height of Venice.) Some few particulars I have set down, 5 Only for this meridian, fit to be known Of your crude traveller; and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old.

_Per._ Sir, I have better.

_Sir P._ Pardon, I meant, as they are themes.

_Per._ O, sir, proceed: 10 I ’ll slander you no more of wit, good sir.

_Sir P._ First, for your garb, it must be grave and serious, Very reserv’d and lockt; not tell a secret On any terms, not to your father; scarce A fable, but with caution: make sure choice 15 Both of your company and discourse; beware You never speak a truth——

_Per._ How!

_Sir P._ Not to strangers, For those be they you must converse with most; Others I would not know, sir, but at distance So as I still might be a saver in them: 20 You shall have tricks else past upon you hourly. And then, for your religion, profess none, But wonder at the diversity of all; And, for your part, protest, were there no other But simply the laws o’ th’ land, you could content you. 25 Nic. Machiavel and Monsieur Bodin,[1681] both Were of this mind. Then must you learn the use And handling of your silver fork at meals, The metal of your glass; (these are main matters With your Italian;) and to know the hour 30 When you must eat your melons and your figs.

_Per._ Is that a point of state too?

_Sir P._ Here it is: For your Venetian, if he see a man Preposterous in the least, he has him straight; He has; he strips him. I ’ll acquaint you, sir. 35 I now have liv’d here ’t is some fourteen months: Within the first week of my landing here, All took me for a citizen of Venice, I knew the forms so well——

_Per._ [_Aside._] And nothing else.

_Sir P._ I had read Contarene,[1682] took me a house, 40 Dealt with my Jews to furnish it with movables— Well, if I could but find one man, one man To mine own heart, whom I durst trust, I would——

_Per._ What, what, sir?

_Sir P._ Make him rich; make him a fortune: He should not think again. I would command it. 45

_Per._ As how?

_Sir P._ With certain projects that I have; Which I may not discover.

_Per._ [Aside.] If I had But one to wager with, I would lay odds now, He tells me instantly.

_Sir P._ One is, and that I care not greatly who knows, to serve the state Of Venice with red herrings for three years, 51 And at a certain rate, from Rotterdam, Where I have 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 mark. 55

_Per._ He is a chandler?

_Sir P._ No, a cheesemonger. There are some others too with whom I treat About the same negotiation; And I will undertake it: for ’t is thus. I ’ll do ’t with ease, I have cast[1683] it all. Your hoy[1684] 60 Carries but three men in her, and a boy; And she shall make me three returns a year: So if there come but one of three, I save; If two, I can defalk:[1685]—but this is now, If my main project fail.

_Per._ Then you have others? 65

_Sir P._ I should be loth to draw the subtle air Of such a place, without my thousand aims. I ’ll not dissemble, sir: where’er I come, I love to be considerative; and ’t is true, I have at my free hours thought upon 70 Some certain goods unto the state of Venice, Which I do call my Cautions; and, sir, which I mean, in hope of pension, to propound To the Great Council, then unto the Forty, 75 So to the Ten. My means are made already——

_Per._ By whom?

_Sir P._ Sir, one that though his place be obscure, Yet he can sway, and they will hear him. He ’s A _commandadore_.

_Per._ What! a common serjeant?

_Sir P._ Sir, such as they are, put it in their mouths, What they should say, sometimes; as well as greater: 80 I think I have my notes to show you—— [_Searching his pockets._]

_Per._ Good sir.

_Sir P._ But you shall swear unto me, on your gentry, Not to anticipate——

_Per._ I, sir!

_Sir P._ Nor reveal A circumstance——My paper is not with me.

_Per._ O, but you can remember, sir.

_Sir P._ My first is 85 Concerning tinder-boxes. You must know, No family is here without its box. Now, sir, it being so portable a thing, Put case, that you or I were ill affected Unto the state, sir; with it in our pockets, 90 Might not I go into the Arsenal, Or you come out again, and none the wiser?

_Per._ Except yourself, sir.

_Sir P._ Go to, then. I therefore Advertise to the state, how fit it were That none but such as were known patriots, 95 Sound lovers of their country, should be suffer’d T’ enjoy them in their houses; and even those Seal’d at some office, and at such a bigness As might not lurk in pockets.

_Per._ Admirable!

_Sir P._ My next is, how t’ inquire, and be resolv’d 100 By present demonstration, whether a ship, Newly arriv’d from Soria,[1686] or from Any suspected part of all the Levant, Be guilty of the plague: and where they use To lie out forty, fifty days, sometimes, 105 About the Lazaretto, for their trial; I ’ll save that charge and loss unto the merchant, And in an hour clear the doubt.

_Per._ Indeed, sir!

_Sir P._ Or——I will lose my labour.

_Per._ My faith, that ’s much.

_Sir. P._ Nay, sir, conceive me. It will cost me in onions, 110 Some thirty livres——

_Per._ Which is one pound sterling.

_Sir P._ Beside my waterworks: for this I do, sir. First, I bring in your ship ’twixt two brick walls; But those the state shall venture. On the one I strain me a fair tarpauling, and in that 115 I stick my onions, cut in halves; the other Is full of loopholes, out of which I thrust The noses of my bellows; and those bellows I keep, with waterworks, in perpetual motion, Which is the easiest matter of a hundred. 120 Now, sir, your onion, which doth naturally Attract th’ infection, and your bellows blowing The air upon him, will show instantly, By his chang’d colour, if there be contagion; Or else remain as fair as at the first 125 Now it is known, ’t is nothing.

_Per._ You are right, sir.

_Sir P._ I would I had my note.

_Per._ Faith, so would I: But you ha’ done well for once, sir.

_Sir P._ Were I false, Or would be made so, I could show you reasons How I could sell this state now to the Turk, 130 Spite of their galleys, or their—— [_Examining his papers._]

_Per._ Pray you, Sir Pol.

_Sir P._ I have ’em not about me.

_Per._ That I fear’d. They are there, sir?

_Sir P._ No, this is my diary, Wherein I note my actions of the day. 134

_Per._ Pray you let ’s see, sir. What is here? _Notandum_, [_Reads._] “A rat had gnawn my spur-leathers; notwithstanding, I put on new, and did go forth; but first I threw three beans over the threshold. Item, I went and bought two toothpicks, whereof one I burst immediately, in a discourse 140 With a Dutch merchant, ’bout _ragion’ del stato_.[1687] From him I went and paid a _moccinigo_[1688] For piecing my silk stockings; by the way I cheapen’d[1689] sprats; and at St. Mark’s I urin’d.” ’Faith these are politic notes!

_Sir P._ Sir, I do slip 145 No action of my life, but thus I quote[1690] it.

_Per._ Believe me, it is wise!

_Sir P._ Nay, sir, read forth.

SCENE II.[1691]

[_Enter, at a distance._] LADY POLITIC WOULD-BE, NANO, [_and two_ Waiting]-women.

_Lady P._ Where should this loose knight be, trow? Sure he ’s hous’d.

_Nan._ Why, then he ’s fast.

_Lady P._ Ay, he plays both[1692] with me. I pray you stay. This heat will do more harm To my complexion than his heart is worth. (I do not care to hinder, but to take him.) 5 How it comes off! [_Rubbing her cheeks._]

_1 Wom._ My master ’s yonder.

_Lady P._ Where?

_2 Wom._ With a young gentleman.

_Lady P._ That same ’s the party: In man’s apparel! Pray you, sir, jog my knight: I will be tender to his reputation, However he demerit.

_Sir P._ [_seeing her_] My lady!

_Per._ Where? 10

_Sir P._ ’T is she indeed, sir; you shall know her. She is, Were she not mine, a lady of that merit, For fashion and behaviour; and for beauty I durst compare——

_Per._ It seems you are not jealous, That dare commend her.

_Sir P._ Nay, and for discourse—— 15

_Per._ Being your wife, she cannot miss that.

_Sir. P._ [_introducing_ PER.] Madam, Here is a gentleman, pray you, use him fairly; He seems a youth, but he is——

_Lady P._ None.

_Sir P._ Yes one Has put his face as soon into the world——

_Lady P._ You mean, as early? But to-day?

_Sir P._ How ’s this? 20

_Lady P._ Why, in this habit, sir; you apprehend me. Well, Master Would-be, this doth not become you; I had thought the odour, sir, of your good name Had been more precious to you; that you would not Have done this dire massacre on your honour; One of your gravity, and rank besides! 26 But knights, I see, care little for the oath They make to ladies; chiefly their own ladies.

_Sir P._ Now, by my spurs, the symbol of my knighthood——

_Per._ [_Aside._] Lord, how his brain is humbl’d for an oath! 30

_Sir P._ I reach[1693] you not.

_Lady P._ Right, sir, your polity May bear it through thus. Sir, a word with you.

[_To_ PER.]

I would be loth to contest publicly With any gentlewoman, or to seem Froward, or violent, as the courtier says; 35 It comes too near rusticity in a lady, Which I would shun by all means: and however I may deserve from Master Would-be, yet T’ have one fair gentlewoman thus be made The unkind instrument to wrong another, 40 And one she knows not, ay, and to perséver; In my poor judgment, is not warranted From being a solecism in our sex, If not in manners.

_Per._ How is this!

_Sir P._ Sweet madam, Come nearer to your aim.

_Lady P._ Marry, and will, sir. 45 Since you provoke me with your impudence, And laughter of your light land-syren here, Your Sporus, your hermaphrodite——

_Per._ What ’s here? Poetic fury and historic storms! 49

_Sir P._ The gentleman, believe it, is of worth And of our nation.

_Lady P._ Ay, your Whitefriars nation.[1694] Come, I blush for you. Master Would-be, I; And am asham’d you should ha’ no more fore-head Than thus to be the patron, or St. George, To a lewd harlot, a base fricatrice,[1695] 55 A female devil, in a male outside.

_Sir P._ Nay, An you be such a one, I must bid adieu To your delights. The case appears too liquid. [_Exit._]

_Lady P._ Ay, you may carry ’t clear, with you state-face! But for your carnival concupiscence, 60 Who here is fled for liberty of conscience, From furious persecution of the marshal, Her will I disc’ple.[1696]

_Per._ This is fine, i’ faith! And do you use this often? Is this part Of your wit’s exercise, ’gainst you have occasion? 65 Madam——

_Lady P._ Go to, sir.

_Per._ Do you hear me, lady? Why, if your knight have set you to beg shirts, Or to invite me home, you might have done it A nearer way by far.

_Lady P._ This cannot work you Out of my snare.

_Per._ Why, am I in it, then? 70 Indeed your husband told me you were fair, And so you are; only your nose inclines, That side that ’s next the sun, to the queen-apple.[1697]

_Lady P._ This cannot be endur’d by any patience.

SCENE III.[1698]

[_To them enter_] MOSCA.

_Mos._ What is the matter, madam?

_Lady P._ If the senate Right not my quest in this, I will protest ’em To all the world no aristocracy.

_Mos._ What is the injury, lady?

_Lady P._ Why, the callet[1695] You told me of, here I have ta’en disguis’d. 5

_Mos._ Who? this! what means your ladyship? The creature I mention’d to you is apprehended now, Before the senate; you shall see her——

_Lady P._ Where?

_Mos._ I ’ll bring you to her. This young gentleman, I saw him land this morning at the port. 10

_Lady P._ Is ’t possible! how has my judgment wander’d? Sir, I must, blushing, say to you, I have err’d; And plead your pardon.

_Per._ What, more changes yet!

_Lady P._ I hope you ha’ not the malice to remember A gentlewoman’s passion. If you stay 15 In Venice here, please you to use me, sir——

_Mos._ Will you go, madam?

_Lady P._ Pray you, sir, use me; in faith. The more you see me the more I shall conceive You have forgot our quarrel. [_Exeunt_ LADY WOULD-BE, MOSCA, NANO, _and_ Waiting-women.]

_Per._ This is rare! Sir Politic Would-be? No, Sir Politic Bawd, 20 To bring me thus acquainted with his wife! Well, wise Sir Pol, since you have practis’d thus Upon my freshman-ship, I ’ll try your salt-head, What proof it is against a counter-plot. [_Exit._]

SCENE IV.[1699]

[_Enter_] VOLTORE, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, MOSCA.

_Volt._ Well, now you know the carriage of the business, Your constancy is all that is requir’d Unto the safety of it.

_Mos._ Is the lie Safely convey’d[1700] amongst us? Is that sure? Knows every man his burden?

_Corv._ Yes.

_Mos._ Then shrink not. 5

_Corv._ But knows the advocate the truth?

_Mos._ O, sir, By no means; I devis’d a formal tale, That salv’d your reputation. But be valiant, sir.

_Corv._ I fear no one but him that this his pleading Should make him stand for a co-heir——

_Mos._ Co-halter! 10 Hang him; we will but use his tongue, his noise, As we do croaker’s[1701] here.

_Corv._ Ay, what shall he do?

_Mos._ When we ha’ done, you mean?

_Corv._ Yes.

_Mos._ Why, we ’ll think; Sell him for mummia:[1702] he ’s half dust already.—— Do you not smile, (_to_ VOLTORE) to see this buffalo,[1703] 16 How he doth sport it with his head? [_Aside._] I should, If all were well and past.—Sir, (_to_ CORBACCIO) only you Are he that shall enjoy the crop of all, And these not know for whom they toil.

_Corb._ Ay, peace.

_Mos._ (_turning to_ CORVINO.) But you shall eat it. [_Aside._] Much!—Worshipful sir, (_to_ VOLTORE) 20 Mercury sit upon your thund’ring tongue, Or the French Hercules, and make your language As conquering as his club, to beat along, As with a tempest, flat, our adversaries; But much more yours, sir.

_Volt._ Here they come, ha’ done. 25

_Mos._ I have another witness, if you need, sir, I can produce.

_Volt._ Who is it?

_Mos._ Sir, I have her.

SCENE V.[1704]

[_Enter_] 4 Avocatori, [_and take their seats_,] BONARIO, CELIA, Notario, Commandadori, Saffi, _and other_ Officers of Justice.]

_1 Avoc._ The like of this the senate never heard of.

_2 Avoc._ ’T will come most strange to them when we report it.

_4 Avoc._ The gentlewoman has been ever held Of unreproved name.

_3 Avoc._ So has the youth.

_4 Avoc._ The more unnatural part that of his father. 5

_2 Avoc._ More of the husband.

_1 Avoc._ I not know to give His act a name, it is so monstrous!

_4 Avoc._ But the impostor, he ’s a thing created. T’ exceed example!

_1 Avoc._ And all after-times!

_2 Avoc._ I never heard a true voluptuary 10 Describ’d but him.

_3 Avoc._ Appear yet those were cited?

_Not._ All but the old magnifico, Volpone.

_1 Avoc._ Why is not he here?

_Mos._ Please your fatherhoods, Here is his advocate: himself ’s so weak, So feeble——

_4 Avoc._ Who are you?

_Bon._ His parasite, 15 His knave, his pander. I beseech the court He may be forc’d to come, that your grave eyes May bear strong witness of his strange impostures.

_Volt._ Upon my faith and credit with your virtues. He is not able to endure the air. 20

_2 Avoc._ Bring him.

_3 Avoc._ We will see him.

_4 Avoc._ Fetch him.

_Volt._ Your fatherhoods’ fit pleasures be obey’d; [_Exeunt_ Officers.] But sure, the sight will rather move your pities Than indignation. May it please the court, In the mean time, he may be heard in me. 25 I know this place most void of prejudice, And therefore crave it, since we have no reason To fear our truth should hurt our cause.

_3 Avoc._ Speak free.

_Volt._ Then know, most honour’d fathers, I must now Discover to your strangely abus’d ears, 30 The most prodigious and most frontless piece Of solid impudence, and treachery, That ever vicious nature yet brought forth To shame the state of Venice. This lewd woman, That wants no artificial looks or tears 35 To help the vizor she has now put on, Hath long been known a close adulteress To that lascivious youth there; not suspected, I say, but known, and taken in the act 40 With him; and by this man, the easy husband, Pardon’d; whose timeless bounty makes him now Stand here, the most unhappy, innocent person, That ever man’s own goodness made accus’d. For these not knowing how to owe a gift Of that dear grace, but with their shame; being plac’d 45 So above all powers of their gratitude, Began to hate the benefit; and in place Of thanks, devise t’ extirp the memory Of such an act: wherein I pray your fatherhoods To observe the malice, yea, the rage of creatures 50 Discover’d in their evils: and what heart Such take, ev’n from their crimes:—but that anon Will more appear.—This gentleman, the father, Hearing of this foul fact, with many others, Which daily struck at his too tender ears, 55 And griev’d in nothing more than that he could not Preserve himself a parent (his son’s ills Growing to that strange flood), at last decreed To disinherit him.

_1 Avoc._ These be strange turns!

_2 Avoc._ The young man’s fame was ever fair and honest. 60

_Volt._ So much more full of danger is his vice, That can beguile so, under shade of virtue, But, as I said, my honour’d sires, his father Having this settled purpose, by what means To him betray’d, we know not, and this day 65 Appointed for the deed; that parricide, I cannot style him better, by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Ent’red Volpone’s house (who was the man, Your fatherhoods must understand, design’d 70 For the inheritance), there sought his father:— But with what purpose sought he him, my lords? I tremble to pronounce it, that a son Unto a father, and to such a father, Should have so foul, felonious intent! 75 It was to murder him: when being prevented By his more happy absence, what then did he? Not check his wicked thoughts; no, now new deeds; (Mischief doth never end where it begins) An act of horror, fathers! He dragg’d forth 80 The aged gentleman that had there lain bed-rid Three years and more, out of his innocent couch, Naked upon the floor; there left him; wounded His servant in the face; and with this strumpet, The stale[1705] to his forg’d practice, who was glad To be so active,—(I shall here desire 85 Your fatherhoods to note but my collections, As most remarkable,—) thought at once to stop His father’s ends, discredit his free choice In the old gentleman, redeem themselves, 90 By laying infamy upon this man, To whom, with blushing, they should owe their lives.

_1 Avoc._ What proofs have you of this?

_Bon._ Most honour’d fathers, I humbly crave there be no credit given To this man’s mercenary tongue.

_2 Avoc._ Forbear. 95

_Bon._ His soul moves in his fee.

_3 Avoc._ O, sir.

_Bon._ This fellow, For six sols[1706] more would plead against his Maker.

_1 Avoc._ You do forget yourself.

_Volt._ Nay, nay, grave fathers, Let him have scope: can any man imagine 99 That he will spare his accuser, that would not Have spar’d his parent?

_1 Avoc._ Well, produce your proofs.

_Cel._ I would I could forget I were a creature.

_Volt._ Signior Corbaccio! [CORBACCIO _comes forward._]

_4 Avoc._ What is he?

_Volt._ The father.

_2 Avoc._ Has he had an oath?

_Not._ Yes.

_Corb._ What must I do now? 104

_Not._ Your testimony’s crav’d.

_Corb._ Speak to the knave? I ’ll ha’ my mouth first stopt with earth; my heart Abhors his knowledge: I disclaim in[1707] him.

_1 Avoc._ But for what cause?

_Corb._ The mere portent of nature! He is an utter stranger to my loins. 109

_Bon._ Have they made you to[1708] this?

_Corb._ I will not hear thee, Monster of men, swine, goat, wolf, parricide! Speak not, thou viper.

_Bon._ Sir, I will sit down. And rather wish my innocence should suffer Than I resist the authority of a father. 114

_Volt._ Signior Corvino! [CORVINO _comes forward._]

_2 Avoc._ This is strange.

_1 Avoc._ Who ’s this?

_Not._ The husband.

_4 Avoc._ Is he sworn?

_Not._ He is.

_3 Avoc._ Speak then.

_Corv._ This woman, please your fatherhoods, is a whore, Of most hot exercise, more than a partridge, Upon record——-

_1 Avoc._ No more.

_Corv._ Neighs like a jennet. 119

_Not._ Preserve the honour of the court.

_Corv._ I shall, And modesty of your most reverend ears, And yet I hope that I may say, these eyes Have seen her glu’d unto that piece of cedar, That fine well timber’d gallant: and that here The letters maybe read, thorough the horn,[1709] 125 That make the story perfect.

_Mos._ Excellent! sir.

_Corv._ [_Aside to_ MOSCA.] 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 than whore and woman, a good Catholic 130 May make the doubt.

_3 Avoc._ His grief hath made him frantic.

_1 Avoc._ Remove him hence.

_2 Avoc._ Look to the woman. CELIA _swoons_.

_Corv._ Rare! Prettily feign’d again!

_4 Avoc._ Stand from about her.

_1 Avoc._ Give her the air.

_3 Avoc._ What can you say? [_To_ MOSCA.]

_Mos._ My wound, May it please your wisdoms, speaks for me, receiv’d 135 In aid of my good patron, when he mist His sought-for father, when that well-taught dame Had her cue giv’n her to cry out, “A rape!”

_Bon._ O most laid[1710] impudence! Fathers—

_3 Avoc._ Sir, be silent; 139 You had your hearing free, so must they theirs.

_2 Avoc._ I do begin to doubt th’ imposture here.

_4 Avoc._ This woman has too many moods.

_Volt._ Grave fathers, She is a creature of a most profest And prostituted lewdness.

_Corv._ Most impetuous, 144 Unsatisfi’d, grave fathers!

_Volt._ May her feignings Not take your wisdoms: but this day she baited A stranger, a grave knight, with her loose eyes, And more lascivious kisses. This man saw ’em Together on the water, in a gondola.

_Mos._ Here is the lady herself, that saw them too, 150 Without; who then had in the open streets Pursu’d them, but for saving her knight’s honour.

_1 Avoc._ Produce that lady.

_2 Avoc._ Let her come. [_Exit_ MOSCA.]

_4 Avoc._ These things, They strike with wonder.

_3 Avoc._ I am turn’d a stone.

SCENE VI.[1711]

[_To them re-enter_] MOSCA [_with_] LADY WOULD-BE.

_Mos._ Be resolute, madam.

_Lady P._ Ay, this same is she. [_Pointing to_ CELIA.] Out, thou chameleon harlot! now thine eyes Vie tears with the hyena. Dar’st thou look Upon my wronged face? I cry your pardons, I fear I have forgettingly transgrest 5 Against the dignity of the court——

_2 Avoc._ No, madam.

_Lady P._ And been exorbitant——

_2 Avoc._ You have not, lady.

_4 Avoc._ These proofs are strong.

_Lady P._ Surely, I had no purpose To scandalize your honours, or my sex’s.

_3 Avoc._ We do believe it.

_Lady P._ Surely you may believe it. 10

_2 Avoc._ Madam, we do.

_Lady P._ Indeed you may; my breeding Is not so coarse——

_4 Avoc._ We know it.

_Lady P._ To offend With pertinacy——

_3 Avoc._ Lady——

_Lady P._ Such a presence! No surely.

_1 Avoc._ We will think it.

_Lady P._ You may think it.

_1 Avoc._ Let her o’ercome. What witnesses have you, 15 To make good your report?

_Bon._ Our consciences.

_Cel._ And heaven, that never fails the innocent.

_1 Avoc._ These are no testimonies.

_Bon._ Not in your courts, Where multitude and clamour overcomes.

_1 Avoc._ Nay, then you do wax insolent.

VOLPONE _is brought in, as impotent._

_Volt._ Here, here, 20 The testimony comes that will convince, And put to utter dumbness their bold tongues! See here, grave fathers, here ’s the ravisher, The rider on men’s wives, the great impostor, The grand voluptuary! Do you not think 25 These limbs should affect venery? or these eyes Covet a concubine? Pray you mark these hands; Are they not fit to stroke a lady’s breasts? Perhaps he doth dissemble!

_Bon._ So he does.

_Volt._ Would you ha’ him tortur’d?

_Bon._ I would have him prov’d. 30

_Volt._ Best try him then with goads, or burning irons; Put him to the strappado: I have heard The rack hath cur’d the gout; faith, give it him, And help him of a malady; be courteous. 34 I’ll undertake, before these honour’d fathers, He shall have yet as many left diseases, As she has known adulterers, or thou strumpets. O, my most equal hearers, if these deeds, Acts of this bold and most exorbitant strain, May pass with suff’rance, what one citizen 40 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 ask, With leave of your grave fatherhoods, if their plot Have any face or colour like to truth? 45 Or if, unto the dullest nostril here, It smell not rank, and most abhorred slander? I crave your care of this good gentleman, Whose life is much endanger’d by their fable; And as for them, I will conclude with this, 50 That vicious persons, when they’re hot, and flesh’d In impious acts, their constancy[1712] abounds: Damn’d deeds are done with greatest confidence.

_1 Avoc._ Take ’em to custody, and sever them.

_2 Avoc._ ’T is pity two such prodigies should live. 55

_1 Avoc._ Let the old gentleman be return’d with care. [_Exeunt_ Officers _with_ VOLPONE.] I’m sorry our credulity wrong’d him.

_4 Avoc._ These are two creatures!

_3 Avoc._ I’ve an earthquake in me.

_2 Avoc._ Their shame, ev’n in their cradles, fled their faces.

_4 Avoc._ You have done a worthy service to the state, sir, 60 In their discovery. [_To_ VOLT.]

_1 Avoc._ You shall hear, ere night, What punishment the court decrees upon ’em. [_Exeunt_ Avocat., Not., _and_ Officers _with_ BONARIO _and_ CELIA.]

_Volt._ We thank your fatherhoods. How like you it?

_Mos._ Rare. I’d ha’ your tongue, sir, tipt with gold for this; I’d ha’ you be the heir to the whole city; 65 The earth I’d have want men ere you want living: They ’re bound to erect your statue in St. Mark’s. Signior Corvino, I would have you go And show yourself that you have conquer’d.

_Corv._ Yes.

_Mos._ It was much better that you should profess 70 Yourself a cuckold thus, than that the other Should have been prov’d.

_Corv._ Nay, I consider’d that: Now it is her fault.

_Mos._ Then it had been yours.

_Corv._ True; I do doubt this advocate still.

_Mos._ I’ faith. You need not, I dare ease you of that care. 75

_Corv._ I trust thee, Mosca. [_Exit._]

_Mos._ As your own soul, sir.

_Corb._ Mosca!

_Mos._ Now for your business, sir.

_Corb._ How! ha’ you business?

_Mos._ Yes, yours, sir.

_Corb._ O, none else?

_Mos._ None else, not I.

_Corb._ Be careful then.

_Mos._ Rest you with both your eyes, sir.

_Corb._ Dispatch it.

_Mos._ Instantly.

_Corb._ And look that all, 80 Whatever, be put in, jewels, plate, moneys, Household stuff, bedding, curtains.

_Mos._ Curtain-rings, sir: Only the advocate’s fee must be deducted.

_Corb._ I’ll pay him now; you’ll be too prodigal.

_Mos._ Sir, I must tender it.

_Corb._ Two chequins is well. 85

_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’ll give it him.

_Corb._ Do so, and there ’s for thee. [_Exit._]

_Mos._ [_Aside._] Bountiful bones! What horrid strange offence Did he commit ’gainst nature, in his youth, 90 Worthy this age?—You see, sir, [_to_ VOLT] how I work Unto your ends; take you no notice.

_Volt._ No, I’ll leave you.

_Mos._ All is yours, the devil and all, Good advocate!—Madam, I’ll bring you home.

_Lady P._ No, I’ll go see your patron.

_Mos._ That you shall not: 95 I’ll tell you why. My purpose is to urge My patron to reform his will, and for The zeal you’ve shown to-day, whereas before You were but third or fourth, you shall be now 99 Put in the first; which would appear as begg’d If you were present. Therefore——

_Lady P._ You shall sway me. [_Exeunt._]

ACT V

SCENE I.[1713]

[_Enter_] VOLPONE.

_Volp._ Well, I am here, and all this brunt is past. I ne’er was in dislike with my disguise Till this fled moment: here ’t was good, in private; But in your public,—_cave_ whilst I breathe. 4 ’Fore God, my left leg ’gan to have the cramp, And I apprehended straight some power had struck me With a dead palsy. Well! I must be merry, And shake it off. A many of these fears Would put me into some villanous disease, Should they come thick upon me: I ’ll prevent ’em. 10 Give me a bowl of lusty wine, to fright This humour from my heart. (_Drinks._) Hum, hum, hum! ’T is almost gone already; I shall conquer. Any device now of rare ingenious knavery, 14 That would possess me with a violent laughter, Would make me up again. (_Drinks again._) So, so, so, so! This heat is life; ’t is blood by this time:—Mosca!

SCENE II.[1714]

VOLPONE. [_Enter_] MOSCA.

_Mos._ How now, sir? Does the day look clear again? Are we recover’d, and wrought out of error, Into our way, to see our path before us? Is our trade free once more?

_Volp._ Exquisite Mosca!

_Mos._ Was it not carri’d learnedly?

_Volp._ And stoutly: 5 Good wits are greatest in extremities.

_Mos._ It were folly beyond thought to trust Any grand act unto a cowardly spirit. You are not taken with it enough, methinks.

_Volp._ O, more than if I had enjoy’d the wench: 10 The pleasure of all woman-kind ’s not like it.

_Mos._ Why, now you speak, sir. We must here be fix’d; Here we must rest; this is our masterpiece; We cannot think to go beyond this.

_Volp._ True, Thou host play’d thy prize, my precious Mosca.

_Mos._ Nay, sir, 15 To gull the court——

_Volp._ And quite divert the torrent Upon the innocent.

_Mos._ Yes, and to make So rare a music out of discords——

_Volp._ Right. That yet to me ’s the strangest, how thou ’st borne it! That these, being so divided ’mongst themselves, 20 Should not scent somewhat, or in me or thee, Or doubt their own side.

_Mos._ True, they will not see ’t. Too much light blinds ’em, I think. Each of ’em Is so possest and stuft with his own hopes That anything unto the contrary, 25 Never so true, or never so apparent, Never so palpable, they will resist it——

_Volp._ Like a temptation of the devil.

_Mos._ Right, sir. Merchants may talk of trade, and your great signiors Of land that yields well; but if Italy 30 Have any glebe more fruitful than these fellows, I am deceiv’d. Did not your advocate rare?

_Volp._ O—“My most honour’d fathers, my grave fathers, Under correction of your fatherhoods, What face of truth is here? If these strange deeds 35 May pass, most honour’d fathers”—I had much ado To forbear laughing.

_Mos._ It seem’d to me, you sweat, sir.

_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; 40 Never but still myself.

_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, 45 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, 50 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._ ’T is right. I cannot answer him, Mosca, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, 65 I will begin, even now—to vex ’em 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, 60 That I am dead; do it with constancy, Sadly,[1715] 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, 65 To peck for carrion, my she-wolf, and all, Greedy, and full of expectation——

_Mos._ And then to have it ravish’d from their mouths!

_Volp._ ’T is true. I will ha’ thee put on a gown, 69 And take upon thee, as thou wert mine heir; Show ’em a will. Open that chest, and reach Forth one of those that has the blanks; I ’ll straight Put in thy name.

_Mos._ It will be rare, sir. [_Gives him a paper._]

_Volp._ Ay, When they e’en gape, and find themselves deluded—— 74

_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._ Anything; what thou wilt. Hold, here ’s my will. 80 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, 85 With what degrees their blood doth leave their faces. O, ’t will afford me a rare meal of laughter!

_Mos._ [_putting on a cap, and setting out the table, &c._] Your advocate will turn stark dull upon it.

_Volp._ It will take off his oratory’s edge. 90

_Mos._ But your clarissimo, old roundback, 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, 95 To bear false witness for your worship——

_Volp._ Yes, And kiss’d 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 100 The most deformed, and restores them lovely, As ’t were the strange poetical girdle.[1716] Jove Could not invent t’ himself a shroud more subtle To pass Acrisius’[1717] guards. It is the thing Makes all the world her grace, her youth, her beauty. 105

_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, 110 Play the artificer now, torture ’em rarely.

SCENE III.[1718]

MOSCA. [_Enter_] VOLTORE.

_Volt._ How now, my Mosca?

_Mos._ [_writing_]. “Turkey carpets, nine——”

_Volt._ Taking an inventory! that is well.

_Mos._ “Two suits of bedding, tissue——”

_Volt._ Where ’s the will? Let me read that the while.

[_Enter_ Servants _with_ CORBACCIO _in a chair._]

_Corb._ So, set me down, And get you home. [_Exeunt_ Servants.] 5

_Volt._ Is he come now, to trouble us?

_Mos._ “Of cloth of gold, two more——”

_Corb._ Is it done, Mosca?

_Mos._ “Of several velvets, eight——”

_Volt._ I like his care.

_Corb._ Dost thou not hear?

[_Enter_ CORVINO.]

_Corv._ Ha! is the hour come, Mosca?

_Volp._ Ay, now they muster. _Peeps from behind a traverse._

_Corv._ What does the advocate here, 10 Or this Corbaccio?

_Corb._ What do these here?

[_Enter_ LADY POL. WOULD-BE.]

_Lady P._ Mosca! Is his thread spun?

_Mos._ “Eight chests of linen——”

_Volp._ O, My fine Dame Would-be, too!

_Corv._ Mosca, the will, That I may show it these, and rid ’em hence.

_Mos._ “Six chests of diaper, four of damask.”—There. 15 [_Gives them the will carelessly, over his shoulder._]

_Corb._ Is that the will?

_Mos._ “Down-beds, and bolsters——”

_Volp._ Rare! Be busy still. Now they begin to flutter: They never think of me. Look, see, see, see! How their swift eyes run over the long deed, Unto the name, and to the legacies, 20 What is bequeath’d them there——

_Mos._ “Ten suits of hangings——”

_Volp._ Ay, in their garters, Mosca. Now their hopes Are at the gasp.

_Volt._ Mosca the heir.

_Corb._ What ’s that?

_Volp._ My advocate is dumb; look to my merchant, He ’s heard of some strange storm, a ship is lost, 25 He faints; my lady will swoon. Old glazen-eyes, He hath not reach’d his despair yet.

_Corb._ All these Are out of hope; I am, sure, the man. [_Takes the will._]

_Corv._ But, Mosca——

_Mos._ “Two cabinets——”

_Corv._ Is this in earnest?

_Mos._ “One Of ebony——”

_Corv._ Or do you but delude me? 30

_Mos._ “The other, mother of pearl.”—I ’m very busy, Good faith, it is a fortune thrown upon me— “Item, one salt of agate”—not my seeking.

_Lady P._ Do you hear, sir?

_Mos._ “A perfum’d box”—Pray you forbear, You see I ’m troubl’d—“made of an onyx——”

_Lady P._ How! 35

_Mos._ To-morrow or next day, I shall be at leisure To talk with you all.

_Corv._ Is this my large hope’s issue?

_Lady P._ Sir, I must have a fairer answer.

_Mos._ Madam! Marry, and shall: pray you, fairly quit my house. Nay, raise no tempest with your looks; but hark you, 40 Remember what your ladyship off’red me To put you in an heir; go to, think on it: And what you said e’en your best madams did For maintenance; and why not you? Enough. Go home, and use the poor Sir Pol, your knight, well, 45 For fear I tell some riddles; go, be melancholic. [_Exit_ LADY WOULD-BE.]

_Volp._ O, my fine devil!

_Corv._ Mosca, pray you a word.

_Mos._ Lord! will not you take your dispatch hence yet? Methinks, of all, you should have been th’ example. Why should you stay here? With what thought, what promise? 50 Hear you; do you not know, I know you an ass, And that you would most fain have been a wittol If fortune would have let you? that you are A declar’d cuckold, on good terms? This pearl, You ’ll say, was yours? right: this diamond? 55 I ’ll not deny ’t, but thank you. Much here else? It may be so. Why, think that these good works May help to hide your bad. I ’ll not betray you; Although you be but extraordinary, And have it only in title, it sufficeth: 60 Go home, be melancholy too, or mad. [_Exit_ CORVINO.]

_Volp._ Rare Mosca! how his villany becomes him!

_Volt._ Certain he doth delude all these for me.

_Corb._ Mosca the heir!

_Volp._ O, his four eyes have found it.

_Corb._ I am cozen’d, cheated, by a parasite-slave; 65 Harlot,[1719] th’ hast gull’d me.

_Mos._ Yes, sir. Stop your mouth, Or I shall draw the only tooth is left. Are not you he, that filthy covetous wretch, With the three legs, that here, in hope of prey, Have, any time this three years, snuff’d about, With your most grov’ling nose, and would have hir’d 71 Me to the pois’ning of my patron, sir? Are not you he that have to-day in court Profess’d the disinheriting of your son? Perjur’d yourself? Go home, and die, and stink; 75 If you but croak a syllable, all comes out: Away, and call your porters! [_Exit_ CORBACCIO.] Go, go, stink.

_Volp._ Excellent varlet!

_Volt._ Now, my faithful Mosca, I find thy constancy——

_Mos._ Sir!

_Volt._ Sincere.

_Mos._ [_writing._] “A table Of porphyry”—I marle[1720] you ’ll be thus troublesome. 80

_Volt._ Nay, leave off now, they are gone.

_Mos._ Why, who are you? What! who did send for you? O, cry you mercy, Reverend sir! Good faith, I am griev’d for you, That any chance of mine should thus defeat Your (I must needs say) most deserving travails: 85 But I protest, sir, it was cast upon me, And I could almost wish to be without it, But that the will o’ the dead must be observ’d. Marry, my joy is that you need it not; You have a gift, sir (thank your education), 90 Will never let you want, while there are men, And malice, to breed causes.[1721] Would I had But half the like, for all my fortune, sir! If I have any suits, as I do hope, Things being so easy and direct, I shall not, 95 I will make bold with your obstreperous aid, Conceive me—for your fee, sir. In mean time, You that have so much law, I know ha’ the conscience Not to be covetous of what is mine. Good sir, I thank you for my plate; ’t will help 100 To set up a young man. Good faith, you look As you were costive; best go home and purge, sir. [_Exit_ VOLTORE.]

_Volp._ [_comes from behind the curtain._] Bid him eat lettuce[1722] well. My witty mischief, Let me embrace thee. O that I could now Transform thee to a Venus!—Mosca, go, 105 Straight take my habit of clarissimo, And walk the streets; be seen, torment ’em more: We must pursue, as well as plot. Who would Have lost this feast?

_Mos._ I doubt it will lose them.

_Volp._ O, my recovery shall recover all. 110 That I could now but think on some disguise To meet ’em in, and ask ’em questions: How I would vex ’em still at every turn!

_Mos._ Sir, I can fit you.

_Volp._ Canst thou?

_Mos._ Yes, I know One o’ the commandadori, sir, so like you; 115 Him will I straight make drunk, and bring you his habit.

_Volp._ A rare disguise, and answering thy brain! O, I will be a sharp disease unto ’em.

_Mos._ Sir, you must look for curses——

_Volp._ Till they burst; The Fox fares ever best when he is curst. 120 [_Exeunt._]

SCENE IV.[1723]

[_Enter_] PEREGRINE [_disguised and_] _three_ Mercatori.

_Per._ Am I enough disguis’d?

_1 Mer._ I warrant you.

_Per._ All my ambition is to fright him only.

_2 Mer._ If you could ship him away, ’t were excellent.

_3 Mer._ To Zant, or to Aleppo!

_Per._ Yes, and ha’ his Adventures put i’ th’ Book of Voyages, 5 And his gull’d story regist’red for truth. Well, gentlemen, when I am in a while, And that you think us warm in our discourse, Know your approaches.

_1 Mer._ Trust it to our care. 9 [_Exeunt_ Merchants.]

[_Enter_ Waiting-woman.]

_Per._ Save you, fair lady! Is Sir Pol within?

_Wom._ I do not know, sir.

_Per._ Pray you say unto him Here is a merchant, upon earnest business, Desires to speak with him.

_Wom._ I will see, sir. [_Exit._]

_Per._ Pray you. I see the family is all female here.

[_Re-enter_ Waiting-woman.]

_Wom._ He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state, 15 That now require him whole; some other time You may possess him.

_Per._ Pray you say again, If those require him whole, these will exact him, Whereof I bring him tidings. [_Exit_ Woman.] What might be His grave affair of state now! How to make 20 Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing One o’ th’ ingredients?

[_Re-enter_ Waiting-woman.]

_Wom._ Sir, he says, he knows By your word “tidings,” that you are no statesman, And therefore wills you stay.

_Per._ Sweet, pray you return him; I have not read so many proclamations, 25 And studied them for words, as he has done—— But—here he deigns to come. [_Exit_ Woman.]

[_Enter_ SIR POLITIC.]

_Sir P._ Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanc’d to-day Unkind disaster ’twixt my lady and me; And I was penning my apology, 30 To give her satisfaction, as you came now.

_Per._ Sir, I am griev’d I bring you worse disaster: The gentleman you met at th’ port to-day, That told you he was newly arriv’d——

_Sir P._ Ay, was A fugitive punk?

_Per._ No, sir, a spy set on you: 35 And he has made relation to the senate, That you protest to him to have a plot To sell the State of Venice to the Turk.

_Sir P._ O me!

_Per._ For which warrants are sign’d by this time, To apprehend you, and to search your study 40 For papers——

_Sir P._ Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Drawn out of play-books——

_Per._ All the better, sir.

_Sir P._ And some essays. What shall I do?

_Per._ Sir, best Convey yourself into a sugar-chest; Or, if you could lie round, a frail[1724] were rare; 45 And I could send you aboard.

_Sir P._ Sir, I but talk’d so. For discourse sake merely. [_They knock without._]

_Per._ Hark! they are there.

_Sir P._ I am a wretch, a wretch!

_Per._ What will you do, sir? Have you ne’er a currant-butt to leap into? They’ll put you to the rack; you must be sudden. 50

_Sir P._ Sir, I have an engine[1725]———

_3 Mer._ [_within._] Sir Politic Would-be!

_2 Mer._ [_within._] Where is he?

_Sir P._ That I ’ve thought upon before time.

_Per._ What is it?

_Sir P._ I shall ne’er endure the torture. Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell, Fitted for these extremities: pray you, sir, help me. 55 Here I’ve a place, sir, to put back my legs, Please you to lay it on, sir, [_Lies down while_ PER. _places the shell upon him_.]—with this cap, And my black gloves. I’ll lie, sir, like a tortoise, Till they are gone.

_Per._ And call you this an engine?

_Sir P._ Mine own device.——Good sir, bid my wife’s women 60 To burn my papers. [_Exit_ PER.]

_The three_ Merchants _rush in_.

_1 Mer._ Where is he hid?

_3 Mer._ We must, And will sure find him.

_2 Mer._ Which is his study?

[_Re-enter_ PEREGRINE.]

_1 Mer._ What Are you, sir?

_Per._ I ’m a merchant, that came here To look upon this tortoise?

_3 Mer._ How!

_1 Mer._ St. Mark! What beast is this?

_Per._ It is a fish.

_2 Mer._ Come out here! 65

_Per._ Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him; He ’ll bear a cart.

_1 Mer._ What, to run over him?

_Per._ Yes, sir.

_3 Mer._ Let ’s jump upon him.

_2 Mer._ Can he not go?

_Per._ He creeps, sir.

_1 Mer._ Let ’s see him creep.

_Per._ No, good sir, you will hurt him. 69

_2 Mer._ Heart, I will see him creep, or prick his guts.

_3 Mer._ Come out here!

_Per._ Pray you, sir, creep a little.

_1 Mer._ Forth.

_2 Mer._ Yet further.

_Per._ Good sir!—Creep.

_2 Mer._ We ’ll see his legs.

_They pull off the shell and discover him._

_3 Mer._ Gods so, he has garters!

_1 Mer._ Ay, and gloves!

_2 Mer._ Is this Your fearful tortoise?

_Per._ [_discovering himself._] Now, Sir Pol, we ’re even; For your next project I shall be prepar’d: 75 I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir.

_1 Mer._ ’T were a rare motion[1726] to be seen in Fleet-street.

_2 Mer._ Ay, in the Term.

_1 Mer._ Or Smithfield, in the fair.

_3 Mer._ Methinks ’t is but a melancholic sight.

_Per._ Farewell, most politic tortoise! [_Exeunt_ PER. _and_ Merchants.]

[_Re-enter_ Waiting-woman.]

_Sir P._ Where ’s my lady? 80 Knows she of this?

_Wom._ I know not, sir.

_Sir P._ Enquire.— O, I shall be the fable of all feasts, The freight of the gazetti,[1727] ship-boys’ tale; And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries.

_Wom._ My lady ’s come most melancholic home, 85 And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic.

_Sir P._ And I, to shun this place and clime for ever. Creeping with house on back, and think it well To shrink my poor head in my politic shell. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE V.[1728]

[_Enter_] MOSCA _in the habit of a clarissimo, and_ VOLPONE _in that of a commandadore_.

_Volp._ Am I then like him?

_Mos._ O, sir, you are he; No man can sever you.

_Volp._ Good.

_Mos._ But what am I?

_Volp._ ’Fore heaven, a brave clarissimo; thou becom’st it! Pity thou wert not born one.

_Mos._ [_Aside._] If I hold My made one, ’t will be well.

_Volp._ I ’ll go and see 5 What news first at the court. [_Exit._]

_Mos._ Do so. My Fox Is out of his hole, and ere he shall re-enter, I ’ll make him languish in his borrow’d case,[1729] Except he come to composition with me.— Androgyno, Castrone, Nano!

[_Enter_ ANDROGYNO, CASTRONE, _and_ NANO.]

_All._ Here. 10

_Mos._ Go, recreate yourselves abroad; go, sport.— [_Exeunt._] So, now I have the keys, and am possest. Since he will needs be dead afore his time, I ’ll bury him, or gain by ’m: I’m his heir, And so will keep me, till he share at least. 15 To cozen him of all, were but a cheat Well plac’d; no man would construe it a sin: Let his sport pay for ’t. This is call’d the Fox-trap. [_Exit._]

SCENE VI.[1730]

[_Enter_] CORBACCIO, CORVINO.

_Corb._ They say the court is set.

_Corv._ We must maintain Our first tale good, for both our reputations.

_Corb._ Why, mine ’s no tale. my son would there have kill’d me.

_Corv._ That ’s true, I had forgot:—mine is, I ’m sure. But for your will, sir.

_Corb._ Ay, I ’ll come upon him 5 For that hereafter, now his patron ’s dead.

[_Enter_ VOLPONE.]

_Volp._ Signior Corvino! and Corbaccio! sir, Much joy unto you.

_Corv._ Of what?

_Volp._ The sudden good Dropt down upon you——

_Corb._ Where?

_Volp._ And none knows how, From old Volpone, sir.

_Corb._ Out, arrant knave! 10

_Volp._ Let not your too much wealth, sir, make you furious.

_Corb._ Away, thou varlet.

_Volp._ Why, sir?

_Corb._ Dost thou mock me?

_Volp._ You mock the world, sir; did you not change wills?

_Corb._ Out, harlot!

_Volp._ O! belike you are the man, Signior Corvino? Faith, you carry it well; 15 You grow not mad withal; I love your spirit: You are not over-leaven’d with your fortune. You should ha’ some would swell now, like a wine-fat, With such an autumn.—Did he gi’ you all, sir?

_Corb._ Avoid, you rascal!

_Volp._ Troth, your wife has shown 20 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.

_Corb._ Hence, varlet.

_Volp._ You will not be acknown, sir; why, ’t is wise. 25 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.

SCENE VII.[1731]

VOLPONE. [_Enter_] VOLTORE.

_Volt._ Outstript thus, by a parasite! a slave, Would run on errands, and make legs for crumbs! Well, what I’ll do——

_Volp._ The court stays for your worship. I e’en rejoice, sir, at your worship’s happiness, And that it fell into so learned hands, 5 That understand the fing’ring——

_Volt._ What do you mean?

_Volp._ I mean to be a suitor to your worship, For the small tenement, out of reparations,[1732] That, at the end of your long row of houses, By the Piscaria: it was, in Volpone’s time, 10 Your predecessor, ere he grew diseas’d, A handsome, pretty, custom’d[1733] hawdy-house As any was in Venice, none disprais’d; But fell with him: his body and that house Decay’d together.

_Volt._ Come, sir, leave your prating. 15

_Volp._ Why, if your worship give me but your hand That I may ha’ the refusal, I have done. ’T is a mere toy to you, sir; candle-rents; As your learn’d worship knows——

_Volt._ What do I know?

_Volp._ Marry, no end of your wealth, sir; God decrease it! 20

_Volt._ Mistaking knave! what, mock’st thou my misfortune? [_Exit._]

_Volt._ His blessing on your heart, sir; would ’t were more!—— Now to my first again, at the next corner. [_Exit._]

SCENE VIII.[1734]

[_Enter_] CORBACCIO _and_ CORVINO;—(MOSCA _passant_.)

_Corb._ See, in our habit![1735] see the impudent varlet!

_Corv._ That I could shoot mine eyes at him, like gun-stones!

[_Enter_ VOLPONE.]

_Volp._ But is this true, sir, of the parasite?

_Corb._ Again, t’ afflict us! monster!

_Volp._ In good faith, sir, I’m heartily griev’d, a beard of your grave length 5 Should be so over-reach’d. I never brook’d That parasite’s hair; methought his nose should cozen:[1736] There still was somewhat in his look, did promise The bane of a clarissimo.

_Corb._ Knave——

_Volp._ Methinks Yet you, that are so traded i’ the world, 10 A witty merchant, the fine bird, Corvino, That have such moral emblems on your name, Should not have sung your shame, and dropt your cheese, To let the Fox laugh at your emptiness.

_Corv._ Sirrah, you think the privilege of the place, 15 And your red saucy cap, that seems to me Nail’d to your jolt-head with those two chequins, Can warrant your abuses; come you hither: You shall perceive, sir, I dare beat you; approach.

_Volp._ No haste, sir, I do know your valour well, 20 Since you durst publish what you are, sir.

_Corv._ Tarry, I’d speak with you.

_Volp._ Sir, sir, another time——

_Corv._ Nay, now.

_Volp._ O lord, sir! I were a wise man, Would stand the fury of a distracted cuckold. MOSCA _walks by them_.

_Corb._ What, come again!

_Volp._ Upon ’em, Mosca; save me. 25

_Corb._ The air’s infected where he breathes.

_Corv._ Let’s fly him. [_Exeunt_ CORV. _and_ CORB.]

_Volp._ Excellent basilisk! turn upon the vulture.

SCENE IX.[1737]

MOSCA, VOLPONE. [_Enter_] VOLTORE.

_Volt._ Well, flesh-fly, it is summer with you now; Your winter will come on.

_Mos._ Good advocate, Prithee not rail, nor threaten out of place thus; Thou’lt make a solecism, as madam says. Get you a biggin[1738] more; your brain breaks loose. [_Exit._] 5

_Volt._ Well sir.

_Volp._ Would you ha’ me beat the insolent slave, Throw dirt upon his first good clothes?

_Volt._ This same Is doubtless some familiar.

_Volp._ Sir, the court, In troth, stays for you. I am mad, a mule That never read Justinian, should get up, 10 And ride an advocate. Had you no quirk To avoid gullage, sir, by such a creature? I hope you do but jest; he has not done’t: This’s but confederacy to blind the rest. You are the heir?

_Volt._ A strange, officious, 15 Troublesome knave! thou dost torment me.

_Volp._ I know—— It cannot be, sir, that you should be cozen’d; ’T is not within the wit of man to do it; You are so wise, so prudent; and ’t is fit 19 That wealth and wisdom still should go together. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE X.[1739]

[_Enter_] 4 Avocatori, Notario, BONARIO, CELIA, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, Commandadori, [Saffi, _etc._]

_1 Avoc._ Are all the parties here?

_Not._ All but th’ advocate.

_2 Avoc._ And here he comes.

[_Enter_ VOLTORE _and_ VOLPONE.]

_1 Avoc._ Then bring them forth to sentence.

_Volt._ O, my most honour’d fathers, let your mercy Once win upon your justice, to forgive— I am distracted——

_Volp._ (_Aside._) What will he do now?

_Volt._ O, 5 I know not which t’ address myself to first; Whether your fatherhoods, or these innocents—

_Corv._ (_Aside._) Will he betray himself?

_Volt._ Whom equally I have abus’d, out of most covetous ends——

_Corv._ The man is mad!

_Corb._ What’s that?

_Corv._ He is possest. 10

_Volt._ For which, now struck in conscience, here I prostrate Myself at your offended feet, for pardon.

_1, 2 Avoc._ Arise.

_Cel._ O heaven, how just thou art!

_Volp._ I’m caught I’ mine own noose——

_Corv._ [_to_ CORBACCIO.] Be constant, sir; nought now 14 Can help but impudence.

_1 Avoc._ Speak forward.

_Com._ Silence!

_Volt._ It is not passion in me, reverend fathers, But only conscience, conscience, my good sires, That makes me now tell truth. That parasite, That knave, hath been the instrument of all. 19

_1 Avoc._ Where is that knave? Fetch him.

_Volp._ I go. [_Exit._]

_Corv._ Grave fathers, This man’s distracted; he confest it now: For, hoping to be old Volpone’s heir, Who now is dead——

_3 Avoc._ How!

_2 Avoc._ Is Volpone dead?

_Corv._ Dead since, grave fathers.

_Bon._ O sure vengeance!

_1 Avoc._ Stay, Then he was no deceiver?

_Volt._ O no, none: 25 This parasite, grave fathers.

_Corv._ He does speak Out of mere envy, ’cause the servant’s made The thing he gap’d for. Please your fatherhoods, This is the truth, though I’ll not justify The other, but he may be some-deal faulty. 30

_Volt._ Ay, to your hopes, as well as mine, Corvino: But I’ll use modesty.[1740] Pleaseth your wisdoms, To view these certain notes, and but confer[1741] them; And as I hope favour, they shall speak clear truth. 34

_Corv._ The devil has ent’red him!

_Bon._ Or bides in you.

_4 Avoc._ We have done ill, by a public officer To send for him, if he be heir.

_2 Avoc._ For whom?

_4 Avoc._ Him that they call the parasite.

_3 Avoc._ ’T is true, He is a man of great estate, now left.

_4 Avoc._ Go you, and learn his name, and say the court 40 Entreats his presence here, but to the clearing Of some few doubts. [_Exit_ Notary.]

_2 Avoc._ This same’s a labyrinth!

_1 Avoc._ Stand you unto your first report?

_Corv._ My state, My life, my fame——

_Bon._ Where is ’t?

_Corv._ Are at the stake.

_1 Avoc._ Is yours so too?

_Corb._ The advocate’s a knave, 45 And has a forked tongue——

_2 Avoc._ Speak to the point.

_Corb._ So is the parasite too.

_1 Avoc._ This is confusion.

_Volt._ I do beseech your fatherhoods, read but those— [_Giving them papers._]

_Corv._ And credit nothing the false spirit hath writ: It cannot be but he’s possest, grave fathers. 50 [_The scene closes._]

SCENE XI.[1742]

[_Enter_] VOLPONE.

_Volp._ To make a snare for mine own neck! and run My head into it, wilfully! with laughter! When I had newly scap’d, was free and clear, Out of mere wantonness! O, the dull devil Was in this brain of mine when I devis’d it, 5 And Mosca gave it second; he must now Help to sear up this vein, or we bleed dead. [_Enter_ NANO, ANDROGYNO, _and_ CASTRONE.] How now! Who let you loose? Whither go you now? What, to buy gingerbread, or to drown kitlings?

_Nan._ Sir, Master Mosca call’d us out of doors, And bid us all go play, and took the keys. 11

_And._ Yes.

_Volp._ Did Master Mosca take the keys? Why, so? I’m farther in. These are my fine conceits! I must be merry, with a mischief to me! 14 What a vile wretch was I, that could not bear My fortune soberly? I must ha’ my crochets, And my conundrums! Well, go you, and seek him: His meaning may be truer than my fear. Bid him, he straight come to me to the court; Thither will I, and, if’t be possible, 20 Unscrew my advocate, upon new hopes: When I provok’d him, then I lost myself. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE XII.[1743]

Avocatori, [BONARIO, CELIA, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, Commandadori, Saffi,] _etc._, [_as before_.]

_1 Avoc._ These things can ne’er be reconcil’d. He here [_showing the papers_] Professeth that the gentleman was wrong’d, And that the gentlewoman was brought thither, Forc’d by her husband, and there left.

_Volt._ Most true.

_Cel._ How ready is heaven to those that pray!

_1 Avoc._ But that 5 Volpone would have ravish’d her, he holds Utterly false, knowing his impotence.

_Corv._ Grave fathers, he’s possest; again, I say, Possest: nay, if there be possession, and Obsession, he has both.

_3 Avoc._ Here comes our officer. 10

[_Enter_ VOLPONE.]

_Volp._ The parasite will straight be here, grave fathers.

_4 Avoc._ You might invent some other name, sir varlet.

_3 Avoc._ Did not the notary meet him?

_Volp._ Not that I know.

_4 Avoc._ His coming will clear all.

_2 Avoc._ Yet it is misty.

_Volt._ May’t please your fatherhoods——

_Volp._ (_whispers_ VOLT.) Sir, the parasite 15 Will’d me to tell you that his master lives; That you are still the man; your hopes the same; And this was only a jest——

_Volt._ How?

_Volp._ Sir, to try If you were firm, and how you stood affected.

_Volt._ Art sure he lives?

_Volp._ Do I live, sir?

_Volt._ O me! I was too violent.

_Volp._ Sir, you may redeem it. 21 They said you were possest; fall down, and seem so: I’ll help to make it good. (VOLTORE _falls_.) God bless the man!—— Stop your wind hard, and swell—See, see, see, see! He vomits crooked pins! His eyes are set, 25 Like a dead hare’s hung in a poulter’s shop! His mouth’s running away! Do you see, signior? Now it is in his belly.

_Corv._ Ay, the devil!

_Volp._ Now in his throat.

_Corv._ Ay, I perceive it plain.

_Volp._ ’T will out, ’t will out! stand clear. See where it flies, 30 In shape of a blue toad, with a bat’s wings! Do you not see it, sir?

_Corb._ What? I think I do.

_Corv._ ’T is too manifest.

_Volp._ Look! he comes t’ himself!

_Volt._ Where am I?

_Volp._ Take good heart, the worst is past, sir. You’re dispossest.

_1 Avoc._ What accident is this! 35

_2 Avoc._ Sudden and full of wonder!

_3 Avoc._ If he were Possest, as it appears, all this is nothing.

_Corv._ He has been often subject to these fits.

_1 Avoc._ Show him that writing:—do you know it, sir?

_Volp._ (_whispers_ VOLT.) Deny it, sir, forswear it: know it not. 40

_Volt._ Yes, I do know it well, it is my hand; But all that it contains is false.

_Bon._ O practice![1744]

_2 Avoc._ What maze is this!

_1 Avoc._ Is he not guilty then, Whom you there name the parsite?

_Volt._ Grave fathers, No more than his good patron, old Volpone. 45

_4 Avoc._ Why, he is dead.

_Volt._ O no, my honour’d fathers, He lives——

_1 Avoc._ How! lives?

_Volt._ Lives.

_2 Avoc._ This is subtler yet!

_3 Avoc._ You said he was dead.

_Volt._ Never.

_3 Avoc._ You said so.

_Corv._ I heard so.

_4 Avoc._ Here comes the gentleman; make him way.

[_Enter_ MOSCA.]

_3 Avoc._ A stool.

_4 Avoc._ [_Aside._] A proper man; and were Volpone dead, 50 A fit match for my daughter.

_3 Avoc._ Give him way.

_Volp._ [_Aside to_ MOS.] Mosca, I was a’most lost; the advocate Had betray’d all; but now it is recover’d; All’s on the hinge again——Say I am living.

_Mos._ What busy knave is this!—Most reverend fathers, 55 I sooner had attended your grave pleasures, But that my order for the funeral Of my dear patron did require me——

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Mosca!

_Mos._ Whom I intend to bury like a gentleman.

_Volp._ [_Aside._] Ay, quick, and cozen me of all.

_2 Avoc._ Still stranger! 60 More intricate!

_1 Avoc._ And come about again!

_4 Avoc._ [_Aside._] It is a match, my daughter is bestow’d.

_Mos._ [_Aside to_ VOLP.] Will you gi’ me half?

_Volp._ First I’ll be hang’d.

_Mos._ I know Your voice is good, cry not so loud.

_1 Avoc._ Demand The advocate.—Sir, did you not affirm 65 Volpone was alive?

_Volp._ Yes, and he is; This gent’man told me so.—[_Aside to_ MOS.] Thou shalt have half.

_Mos._ Whose drunkard is this same? Speak, some that know him: I never saw his face.—[_Aside to_ VOLP.] I cannot now Afford it you so cheap.

_Volp._ No!

_1 Avoc._ What say you? 70

_Volt._ The officer told me.

_Volp._ I did, grave fathers, And will maintain he lives, with mine own life, And that this creature [_points to_ MOS.] told me. [_Aside._]—I was born With all good stars my enemies.

_Mos._ Most grave fathers, If such an insolence as this must pass 75 Upon me, I am silent: ’t was not this For which you sent, I hope.

_2 Avoc._ Take him away.

_Volp._ Mosca!

_3 Avoc._ Let him be whipt.

_Volp._ Wilt thou betray me? Cozen me?

_3 Avoc._ And taught to bear himself Toward a person of his rank.

_4 Avoc._ Away. 80 [_The_ Officers _seize_ VOLPONE.]

_Mos._ I humbly thank your fatherhoods.

_Volp._ Soft, soft: [_Aside._] Whipt! And lose all that I have! If I confess, It cannot be much more.

_4 Avoc._ Sir, are you married?

_Volp._ They’ll be alli’d anon; I must be resolute; 84 The Fox shall here uncase. _Puts off his disguise._

_Mos._ Patron!

_Volp._ Nay, now My ruin shall not come alone; your match I’ll hinder sure: my substance shall not glue you, Nor screw you into a family.

_Mos._ Why, patron!

_Volp._ I am Volpone, and this is my knave; [_Pointing to_ MOSCA.] This [_to_ VOLT.], his own knave; this [_to_ CORB.], avarice’s fool; 90 This [_to_ CORV.], a chimera of wittol, fool, and knave: And, reverend fathers, since we all can hope Nought but a sentence, let’s not now despair it. You hear me brief.

_Corv._ May it please your fatherhoods——

_Com._ Silence. 94

_1 Avoc._ The knot is now undone by miracle.

_2 Avoc._ Nothing can be more clear.

_3 Avoc._ Or can more prove These innocent.

_1 Avoc._ Give ’em their liberty.

_Bon._ Heaven could not long let such gross crimes be hid.

_2 Avoc._ If this be held the highway to get riches, 99 May I be poor!

_3 Avoc._ This’s not the gain, but torment.

_1 Avoc._ These possess wealth, as sick men possess fevers, Which trulier may be said to possess them.

_2 Avoc._ Disrobe that parasite.

_Corv. Mos._ Most honour’d fathers——

_1 Avoc._ Can you plead aught to stay the course of justice? 104 If you can, speak.

_Corv. Volt._ We beg favour.

_Cel._ And mercy.

_1 Avoc._ You hurt your innocence, suing for the guilty. Stand forth; and first the parasite. You appear T’ have been the chiefest minister, if not plotter, In all these lewd impostures, and now, lastly, Have with your impudence abus’d[1745] the court, And habit of a gentleman of Venice, 111 Being a fellow of no birth or blood: For which our sentence is, first, thou be whipt; Then live perpetual prisoner in our galleys. 114

_Volp._ I thank you for him.

_Mos._ Bane to thy-wolfish nature!

_1 Avoc._ Deliver him to the saffi.[1746] [MOSCA _is carried out_.] Thou, Volpone, By blood and rank a gentleman, canst not fall Under like censure; but our judgment on thee Is, that thy substance all be straight confiscate To the hospital of the Incurabili: 120 And since the most was gotten by imposture, By feigning lame, gout, palsy, and such diseases, Thou art to lie in prison, cramp’d with irons, Till thou be’st sick and lame indeed. Remove him. [_He is taken from the Bar._]

_Volp._ This is called mortifying of a Fox. 125

_1 Avoc._ Thou, Voltore, to take away the scandal Thou hast giv’n all worthy men of thy profession, Art banish’d from their fellowship, and our state. Corbaccio!—bring him near. We here possess Thy son of all thy state, and confine thee 130 To the monastery of San Spirito; Where, since thou knew’st not how to live well here, Thou shalt be learn’d to die well.

_Corb._ Ha! what said he?

_Com._ You shall know anon, sir.

_1 Avoc._ Thou, Corvino, shalt Be straight embark’d from thine own house, and row’d 135 Round about Venice, through the Grand Canal, Wearing a cap, with fair long ass’s ears, Instead of horns! and so to mount, a paper Pinn’d on thy breast, to the Berlina.[1747]

_Corv._ Yes, 139 And have mine eyes beat out with stinking fish, Bruis’d fruit, and rotten eggs—’t is well. I ’m glad I shall not see my shame yet.

_1 Avoc._ And to expiate Thy wrongs done to thy wife, thou art to send her Home to her father, with her dowry trebled: And these are all your judgments.

_All._ Honour’d fathers—— 145

_1 Avoc._ Which may not be revok’d. Now you begin, When crimes are done and past, and to be punish’d, To think what your crimes are. Away with them! Let all that see these vices thus rewarded, Take heart, and love to study ’em. Mischiefs feed 150 Like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed. [_Exeunt._]

VOLPONE [_comes forward_].

“The seasoning of a play is the applause. Now, though the Fox be punish’d by the laws, He yet doth hope, there is no suff’ring due, 155 For any fact[1748] which he hath done ’gainst you; If there be, censure him; here he doubtful stands: If not, fare jovially, and clap your hands.” [_Exit._]

THE ALCHEMIST

BY BEN JONSON

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

SUBTLE, the ALCHEMIST. FACE, the House-keeper. DOL COMMON, their colleague. DAPPER, a [Lawyer’s] clerk. DRUGGER, a Tobacco-man. LOVEWIT, Master of the House. [Sir] EPICURE MAMMON, a Knight. [PERTINAX] SURLY, a Gamester. TRIBULATION [WHOLESOME], a Pastor of Amsterdam. ANANIAS, a Deacon there. KASTRILL, the angry boy. DAME PLIANT, his sister, a Widow. Neighbours. Officers, Mutes.

SCENE.—_London._

[TO THE READER[1749]

If thou beest more, thou art an understander, and then I trust thee. If thou art one that tak’st up, and but a pretender, beware at what hands thou receiv’st thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in the way to be coz’ned than in this age in poetry, especially in plays, wherein now the concupiscence of jigs and dances[1750] so reigneth, as to run away from nature and be afraid of her is the only point of art that tickles the spectators. But how out of purpose and place do I name art, when the professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own naturals,[1751] as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms when they understand not the things, think to get off wittily with their ignorance! Nay, they are esteem’d the more learned and sufficient for this by the multitude,[1752] through their excellent vice[1753] of judgment. For they commend writers as they do fencers or wrastlers; who, if they come in robustiously and put for it with a great deal of violence, are receiv’d for the braver fellows; when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil.[1754] I deny not but that these men who always seek to do more than enough may some time happen on some thing that is good and great; but very seldom: and when it comes, it doth not recompence the rest of their ill. It sticks out, perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid and vile about it; as lights are more discern’d in a thick darkness than a faint shadow. I speak not this out of a hope to do good on any man against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, the worse would find more suffrages, because the most favour common errors. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great difference between those that (to gain the opinion of copie[1755]) utter[1756] all they can, however unfitly, and those that use election and a mean. For it is only the disease of the unskillful to think rude things greater than polish’d, or scatter’d more numerous than compos’d.]

ARGUMENT

T he sickness hot,[1757] a master quit, for fear, H is house in town, and left one servant there. E ase him corrupted, and gave means to know A Cheater and his punk;[1758] who now brought low, L eaving their narrow practice, were become C oz’ners[1759] at large; and only wanting some H ouse to set up, and with him they here contract, E ach for a share, and all begin to set. M uch company they draw, and much abuse,[1760] I n casting figures,[1761] telling fortunes, news, S elling of flies,[1762] flat bawdry, with the stone,[1763] T ill it, and they, and all in fume[1764] are gone.

PROLOGUE

Fortune, that favours fools, these two short hours We wish away, both for your sakes and ours, Judging spectators; and desire in place, To th’ author justice, to ourselves but grace. Our scene is London, ’cause we would make known, 5 No country’s mirth is better than our own. No clime breeds better matter for your whore, Bawd, squire, impostor, many persons more, Whose manners, now call’d humours, feed the stage; And which have still been subject for the rage 10 Or spleen of comic writers. Though this pen Did never aim to grieve, but better men; Howe’er the age he lives in doth endure The vices that she breeds, above their cure. But when the wholesome remedies are sweet, 15 And, in their working gain and profit meet, He hopes to find no spirit so much diseas’d, But will with such fair correctives be pleas’d. For here he doth not fear who can apply. If there be any that will sit so nigh 20 Unto the stream, to look what it doth run, They shall find things, they ’d think, or wish, were done; They are so natural follies, but so shown, As even the doers may see, and yet not own.

ACT I

SCENE I.[1765]

[_Enter_] FACE, [_in a captain’s uniform, with his sword drawn, and_] SUBTLE [_with a vial, quarrelling, and followed by_] DOL COMMON.

_Face._ Believe ’t, I will.

_Sub._ Thy worst. I fart at thee.

_Dol._ Ha’ you your wits? Why, gentlemen! for love——

_Face._ Sirrah, I ’ll strip you——

_Sub._ What to do? Lick figs[1766] Out at my——

_Face._ Rogue, rogue!—out of all your sleights.[1767]

_Dol._ Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen? 5

_Sub._ O, let the wild sheep loose. I ’ll gum your silks With good strong water, an you come.

_Dol._ Will you have The neighbours hear you? Will you betray all? Hark! I hear somebody.

_Face._ Sirrah——

_Sub._ I shall mar All that the tailor has made, if you approach. 10

_Face._ You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave, Dare you do this?

_Sub._ Yes, faith; yes, faith.

_Face._ Why, who Am I, my mongrel, who am I?

_Sub._ I ’ll tell you, Since you know not yourself.

_Face._ Speak lower, rogue.

_Sub._ Yes. You were once (time ’s not long past) the good, 15 Honest, plain, livery-three-pound-thrum,[1768] that kept Your master’s worship’s house here in the Friars,[1769] For the vacations——

_Face._ Will you be so loud?

_Sub._ Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain.

_Face._ By your means, doctor dog!

_Sub._ Within man ’s memory, 20 All this I speak of.

_Face._ Why, I pray you, have I Been countenanc’d by you, or you by me? Do but collect, sir, where I met you first.

_Sub._ I do not hear well.

_Face._ Not of this, I think it, But I shall put you in mind, sir;—at Pie-corner, 25 Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks’ stalls, Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk Piteously costive, with your pinch’d-horn-nose, And your complexion of the Roman wash,[1770] Stuck full of black and melancholic worms. 30 Like powder-corns[1771] shot at the artillery-yard.

_Sub._ I wish you could advance your voice a little.

_Face._ When you went pinn’d up in the several rags You had rak’d and pick’d from dunghills, before day; Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes;[1772] A felt of rug,[1773] and a thin threaden cloak, 36 That scarce would cover your no-buttocks——

_Sub._ So, sir!

_Face._ When all your alchemy, and your algebra, Your minerals, vegetals, and animals, Your conjuring, coz’ning;[1774] and your dozen of trades, 40 Could not relieve your corpse with so much linen Would make you tinder, but to see a fire; I ga’ you count’nance, credit for your coals, Your stills, your glasses, your materials; Built you a furnace, drew you customers, 45 Advanc’d all your black arts; lent you, beside, A house to practise in——

_Sub._ Your master’s house!

_Face._ Where you have studied the more thriving skill Of bawdry, since.

_Sub._ Yes, in your master’s house. You and the rats here kept possession. 50 Make it not strange.[1775] I know you were one could keep The buttery-hatch still lock’d, and save the chippings, Sell the dole beer to aqua-vitae men,[1776] The which, together with your Christmas vails[1777] At post-and-pair,[1778] your letting out of counters,[1779] 55 Made you a pretty stock, some twenty marks, And gave you credit to converse with cobwebs, Here, since your mistress’ death hath broke up house.

_Face._ You might talk softlier, rascal.

_Sub._ No, you scarab, I’ll thunder you in pieces. I will teach you 60 How to beware to tempt a Fury again That carries tempest in his hand and voice.

_Face._ The place has made you valiant.

_Sub._ No, your clothes. Thou vermin, have I ta’en thee out of dung, So poor, so wretched, when no living thing 65 Would keep thee company, but a spider or worse? Rais’d thee from brooms, and dust, and wat’ring-pots, Sublim’d thee, and exalted thee, and fix’d thee In the third region,[1780] call’d our state of grace? Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains 70 Would twice have won me the philosopher’s work? Put thee in words and fashion? made thee fit For more than ordinary fellowships? Giv’n thee thy oaths, thy quarrelling dimensions? Thy rules to cheat at horse-race, cock-pit, cards, Dice, or whatever gallant tincture[1781] else? 76 Made thee a second in mine own great art? And have I this for thanks! Do you rebel? Do you fly out i’ the projection?[1782] Would you be gone now?

_Dol._ Gentlemen, what mean you? 80 Will you mar all?

_Sub._ Slave, thou hadst had no name——

_Dol._ Will you undo yourselves with civil war?

_Sub._ Never been known, past _equi clibanum_, The heat of horse-dung, under ground, in cellars, Or an ale-house darker than deaf John’s; been lost 85 To all mankind, but laundresses and tapsters, Had not I been.

_Dol._ Do you know who hears you, sovereign?

_Face._ Sirrah——

_Dol._ Nay, general, I thought you were civil.

_Face._ I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud.

_Sub._ And hang thyself, I care not.

_Face._ Hang thee, collier, And all thy pots and pans, in picture I will, 91 Since thou hast mov’d me——

_Dol._ [_Aside_] O, this ’ll o’erthrow all.

_Face._ Write thee up bawd in Paul’s; have all thy tricks Of coz’ning with a hollow coal, dust, scrapings, Searching for things lost, with a sieve and shears, 95 Erecting figures in your rows of houses,[1783] And taking in of shadows with a glass, Told in red letters; and a face cut for thee, Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey’s.[1784]

_Dol._ Are you sound? Ha’ you your senses, masters?

_Face._ I will have 100 A book, but rarely reckoning thy impostures, Shall prove a true philosopher’s stone to printers.

_Sub._ Away, you trencher-rascal!

_Face._ Out, you dog-leech! The vomit of all prisons——

_Dol._ Will you be Your own destructions, gentlemen?

_Face._ Still spew’d out 105 For lying too heavy o’ the basket.[1785]

_Sub._ Cheater!

_Face._ Bawd!

_Sub._ Cow-herd!

_Face._ Conjurer!

_Sub._ Cutpurse!

_Face._ Witch!

_Dol._ O me! We are ruin’d, lost! Ha’ you no more regard To your reputations? Where ’s your judgment? ’Slight, 109 Have yet some care of me, o’ your republic——

_Face._ Away, this brach![1786] I ’ll bring thee, rogue, within The statute of sorcery, tricesimo tertio Of Harry the Eighth:[1787] ay, and perhaps thy neck Within a noose, for laund’ring gold and barbing it.[1788]

_Dol._ You’ll bring your head within a cockscomb, will you?[1789] 115 _She catcheth out_ FACE _his sword, and breaks_ SUBTLE’S _glass_. And you, sir, with your menstrue![1790]—Gather it up. ’Sdeath, you abominable pair of stinkards, Leave off your barking, and grow one again, Or, by the light that shines, I’ll cut your throats. I’ll not be made a prey unto the marshal 120 For ne’er a snarling dog-bolt[1791] o’ you both. Ha’ you together cozen’d all this while, And all the world, and shall it now be said, You’ve made most courteous shift to cozen yourselves? [_To_ FACE.] You will accuse him! You will “bring him in Within the statute!” Who shall take your word? 126 A whoreson, upstart, apocryphal captain, Whom not a Puritan in Blackfriars will trust So much as for a feather: and you, too, [_to_ SUBTLE] Will give the cause, forsooth! You will insult, And claim a primacy in the divisions! 131 You must be chief! As if you, only, had The powder to project[1792] with, and the work Were not begun out of equality! 134 The venture tripartite! All things in common! Without priority! ’Sdeath! you perpetual curs, Fall to your couples again, and cozen kindly, And heartily, and lovingly, as you should, And lose not the beginning of a term, Or, by this hand, I shall grow factions too, 140 And take my part, and quit you.

_Face._ ’T is his fault; He ever murmurs, and objects his pains, And says, the weight of all lies upon him.

_Sub._ Why, so it does.

_Dol._ How does it? Do not we Sustain our parts?

_Sub._ Yes, but they are not equal. 145

_Dol._ Why, if your part exceed to-day, I hope Ours may to-morrow match it.

_Sub._ Ay, they _may_.

_Dol._ May, murmuring mastiff! Ay, and do. Death on me! Help me to throttle him. [_Seizes_ SUB. _by the throat_.]

_Sub._ Dorothy! Mistress Dorothy! ’Ods precious, I’ll do anything. What do you mean? 150

_Dol._ Because o’ your fermentation and cibation?[1793]

_Sub._ Not I, by heaven——

_Dol._ Your Sol and Luna——help me. [_To_ FACE.]

_Sub._ Would I were hang’d then! I ’ll conform myself.

_Dol._ Will you, sir? Do so then, and quickly: swear.

_Sub._ What should I swear?

_Dol._ To leave your faction,[1794] sir, And labour kindly in the common work. 156

_Sub._ Let me not breathe if I meant aught beside. I only us’d those speeches as a spur To him.

_Dol._ I hope we need no spurs, sir. Do we?

_Face._ ’Slid, prove to-day who shall shark best.

_Sub._ Agreed. 160

_Dol._ Yes, and work close and friendly.

_Sub._ ’Slight, the knot Shall grow the stronger for this breach, with me. [_They shake hands._]

_Dol._ Why, so, my good baboons! Shall we go make A sort[1795] of sober, scurvy, precise neighbours, That scarce have smil’d twice sin’ the king came in.[1796] 165 A feast of laughter at our follies? Rascals, Would run themselves from breath, to see me ride, Or you t’ have but a hole to thrust your heads in,[1797] For which you should pay ear-rent?[1798] No, agree. And may Don Provost ride a feasting long, 170 In his old velvet jerkin and stain’d scarfs, My noble sovereign, and worthy general, Ere we contribute a new crewel[1799] garter To his most worsted worship.

_Sub._ Royal Dol! Spoken like Claridiana,[1800] and thyself. 175

_Face._ For which at supper, thou shalt sit in triumph, And not be styl’d Dol Common, but Dol Proper, Dol Singular: the longest cut at night, Shall draw thee for his Dol Particular.

[_Bell rings without._]

_Sub._ Who’s that? One rings. To the window. Dol: [_Exit_ DOL.]—Pray heav’n, 180 The master do not trouble us this quarter.

_Face._ O, fear not him. While there dies one a week O’ the plague, he’s safe from thinking toward London. Beside, he ’s busy at his hop-yards now; I had a letter from him. If he do, 185 He’ll send such word, for airing o’ the house, As you shall have sufficient time to quit it: Though we break up a fortnight, ’t is no matter.

_Re-enter_ DOL.

_Sub._ Who is it, Dol?

_Dol._ A fine young quodling.[1801]

_Face._ O, My lawyer’s clerk, I lighted on last night, 190 In Holborn, at the Dagger. He would have (I told you of him) a familiar, To rifle with at horses, and win cups.

_Dol._ O, let him in.

_Sub._ Stay. Who shall do’t?

_Face._ Get you 195 Your robes on; I will meet him, as going out.

_Dol._ And what shall I do?

_Face._ Not be seen; away! [_Exit_ DOL.] Seem you very reserv’d.

_Sub._ Enough. [_Exit._]

_Face._ [_aloud and retiring._] God be wi’ you, sir, I pray you let him know that I was here: His name is Dapper. I would gladly have staid, but——

SCENE II.[1802]

FACE.

_Dap._ [_within._] Captain, I am here.

_Face._ Who’s that?—He’s come, I think, doctor. [_Enter_ DAPPER.] Good faith, sir, I was going away.

_Dap._ In truth, I am very sorry, captain.

_Face._ But I thought Sure I should meet you.

_Dap._ Ay, I am very glad, I had a scurvy writ or two to make, 5 And I had lent my watch last night to one That dines to-day at the sheriff’s, and so was robb’d Of my pass-time.[1803] [_Re-enter_ SUBTLE _in his velvet cap and gown_.] Is this the cunning-man?

_Face._ This is his worship.

_Dap._ Is he a doctor?

_Face._ Yes.

_Dap._ And ha’ you broke[1804] with him, captain?

_Face._ Ay.

_Dap._ And how? 10

_Face._ Faith, he does make the matter, sir, so dainty,[1805] I know not what to say.

_Dap._ Not so, good captain.

_Face._ Would I were fairly rid on ’t, believe me.

_Dap._ Nay, now you grieve me, sir. Why should you wish so? I dare assure you, I’ll not be ungrateful. 15

_Face._ I cannot think you will, sir. But the law Is such a thing——and then he says, Read’s[1806] matter Falling so lately——

_Dap._ Read! he was an ass, And dealt, sir, with a fool.

_Face._ It was a clerk, sir. 19

_Dap._ A clerk!

_Face._ Nay, hear me, sir. You know the law Better, I think——

_Dap._ I should, sir, and the danger: You know, I show’d the statute to you.

_Face._ You did so.

_Dap._ And will I tell then! By this hand of flesh, Would it might never write good courthand more, If I discover.[1807] What do you think of me, 25 That I am a chiaus?[1808]

_Face._ What’s that?

_Dap._ The Turk was here. As one would say, do you think I am a Turk?

_Face._ I’ll tell the doctor so.

_Dap._ Do, good sweet captain.

_Face._ Come, noble doctor, pray thee let’s prevail; This is the gentleman, and he is no chiaus. 30

_Sub._ Captain, I have return’d 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: 35 Let that, sir, move you.

_Sub._ Pray you, forbear——

_Face._ He has Four angels here.

_Sub._ You do me wrong, good sir.

_Face._ Doctor, wherein? To tempt you with these spirits?

_Sub._ To tempt my art and love, sir, to my peril. ’Fore heav’n, I scarce can think you are my friend, 40 That so would draw me to apparent danger.

_Face._ I draw you! A horse draw you, and a halter, You, and your flies[1809] together——

_Dap._ Nay, good captain.

_Face._ That know no difference of men.

_Sub._ Good words, sir.

_Face._ Good deeds, sir, doctor dogs’-meat. ’Slight, I bring you 45 No cheating Clim o’ the Cloughs[1810] or Claribels,[1811] That look as big as five-and-fifty, and flush;[1812] And spit out secrets like hot custard——

_Dap._ Captain!

_Face._ Nor any melancholic underscribe, Shall tell the vicar; but a special gentle, 50 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, 56 Will take his oath o’ the Greek Xenophon,[1813] If need be, in his pocket; and can court His mistress out of Ovid.

_Dap._ Nay, dear captain——

_Face._ Did you not tell me so?

_Dap._ Yes; but I ’d ha’ you Use master doctor with some more respect. 60

_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![1814] Come, let ’s be gone. [_Going._]

_Sub._ Pray you le’ me speak with you.

_Dap._ His worship calls you, captain.

_Face._ I am sorry I e’er embark’d myself in such a business. 66

_Dap._ Nay, good sir; he did call you.

_Face._ Will he take then?

_Sub._ First, hear me——

_Face._ Not a syllable, ’less you take.

_Sub._ Pray ye, sir——

_Face._ Upon no terms but an _assumpsit_.[1815]

_Sub._ Your humour must be law. _He takes the money._

_Face._ Why now, sir, talk. 70 Now I dare hear you with mine honour. Speak. So may this gentleman too.

_Sub._ Why, sir—— [_Offering to whisper_ FACE.]

_Face._ No whisp’ring.

_Sub._ ’Fore heav’n, you do not apprehend the loss You do yourself in this.

_Face._ Wherein? for what?

_Sub._ Marry, to be so importunate for one 75 That, when he has it, will undo you all: He ’ll win up all the money i’ the town.

_Face._ How?

_Sub._ Yes, and blow up gamester after gamester, As they do crackers in a puppet-play. If I do give him a familiar, 80 Give you him all you play for; never set[1816] him: For he will have it.

_Face._ You ’re mistaken, doctor. Why, he does ask one but for cups and horses, A rifling[1817] fly; none o’ your great familiars.

_Dap._ Yes, captain, I would have it for all games. 85

_Sub._ I told you so.

_Face._ [_taking_ DAP. _aside_.] ’Slight, that is 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 Of forty or fifty shillings.

_Dap._ Ay, ’t is true, sir; 90 But I do think, now, I shall leave the law, And therefore——

_Face._ Why, this changes quite the case. Do you think that I dare move him?

_Dap._ If you please, sir; All ’s one to him, I see.

_Face._ What! for that money? 94 I cannot with my conscience; nor should you Make the request, methinks.

_Dap._ 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?

_Sub._ I say then, not a mouth shall eat for him At any ordinary,[1818] but o’ the score,[1819] 100 That is a gaming mouth, conceive me.

_Face._ Indeed!

_Sub._ He ’ll draw you all the treasure of the realm, If it be set him.

_Face._ Speak you this from art?

_Sub._ Ay, sir, and reason too, the ground of art. He is o’ the only best complexion, 105 The queen of Fairy loves.

_Face._ What! Is he?

_Sub._ Peace. He ’ll overhear you. Sir, should she but see him——

_Face._ What?

_Sub._ Do not you tell him.

_Face._ Will he win at cards too?

_Sub._ The spirits of dead Holland, living Isaac,[1820] 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,[1821] indeed.

_Face._ A strange success, that some man shall be born to!

_Sub._ He hears you, man——

_Dap._ Sir, I ’ll not be ingrateful.

_Face._ Faith, I have a confidence in his good nature: 115 You hear, he says he will not be ingrateful.

_Sub._ Why, as you please; my venture follows yours.

_Face._ Troth, do it, doctor; think him trusty, and make him. He may make us both happy in an hour; Win some five thousand pound, and send us two on ’t. 120

_Dap._ Believe it, and I will, sir.

_Face._ And you shall, sir. You have heard all? FACE _takes him aside_.

_Dap._ No, what was ’t? Nothing, I, sir.

_Face._ Nothing?

_Dap._ A little, sir.

_Face._ Well, a rare star Reign’d at your birth.

_Dap._ At mine, sir! No.

_Face._ The doctor Swears that you are——

_Sub._ Nay, captain, you ’ll tell all now. 125

_Face._ Allied to the queen of Fairy.

_Dap._ Who! That I am? Believe it, no such matter——

_Face._ Yes, and that You were born with a caul o’ your head.

_Dap._ Who says so?

_Face._ Come You know it well enough, though you dissemble it. 129

_Dap._ I’ fac,[1822] 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?

_Dap._ By Jove, sir, 135 I ’ll win ten thousand pound, and send you half. I’ fac’s no oath.

_Sub._ No, no, he did but jest.

_Face._ Go to. Go thank the doctor. He ’s your friend, To take it so.

_Dap._ I thank his worship.

_Face._ So! Another angel.

_Dap._ Must I?

_Face._ Must you! ’Slight, 140 What else is thanks? Will you be trivial?—Doctor, [DAPPER _gives him the money._] When must he come for his familiar?

_Dap._ Shall I not ha’ it with me?

_Sub._ O, good sir! There must a world of ceremonies pass; You must be bath’d and fumigated first: 145 Besides, the queen of Fairy does not rise Till it be noon.

_Face._ Not if she danc’d to-night.

_Sub._ And she must bless it.

_Face._ Did you never see Her royal grace yet?

_Dap._ Whom?

_Face._ Your aunt of Fairy?

_Sub._ Not since she kist him in the cradle, captain; 150 I can resolve you that.

_Face._ Well, see her grace, Whate’er it cost you, for a thing that I know. It will be somewhat hard to compass; but However, see her. You are made, believe it, 154 If you can see her. Her grace is a lone woman, And very rich; and if she take a fancy, She will do strange things. See her, at any hand. ’Slid, she may hap to leave you all she has! It is the doctor’s fear.

_Dap._ How will ’t be done, then?

_Face._ Let me alone, take you no thought. Do you 160 But say to me, “Captain, I ’ll see her grace.”

_Dap._ “Captain, I ’ll see her grace.”

_Face._ Enough. _One knocks without._

_Sub._ Who ’s there? Anon.—[_Aside to_ FACE.] Conduct him forth by the back way. Sir, against one o’clock prepare yourself; Till when you must be fasting; only take 165 Three drops of vinegar in at your nose, Two at your mouth, and one at either ear; Then bathe your fingers’ ends and wash your eyes, To sharpen your five senses, and cry _hum_ 169 Thrice, and then _buz_ as often; and then come. [_Exit._]

_Face._ Can you remember this?

_Dap._ I warrant you.

_Face._ Well then, away. It is but your bestowing Some twenty nobles ’mong her grace’s servants, And put on a clean shirt. You do not know 174 What grace her grace may do you in clean linen. [_Exeunt_ FACE _and_ DAPPER.]

SCENE III.[1823]

_Sub._ [_within._] Come in! Good wives, I pray you forbear me now; Troth, I can do you no good till afternoon.—

[_Enter_ SUBTLE, _followed by_ DRUGGER.]

_Sub._ What is your name, say you? Abel Drugger?

_Drug._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ A seller of tobacco?

_Drug._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ Umph! Free of the grocers?[1824]

_Drug._ Ay, an ’t please you.

_Sub._ Well—— 5 Your business, Abel?

_Drug._ This, an ’t please your worship; I am a young beginner, and am building Of a new shop, an ’t like your worship, just At corner of a street:—Here is the plot[1825] on ’t—— 9 And I would know by art, sir, of your worship, Which way I should make my door, by necromancy, And where my shelves; and which should be for boxes, And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, sir: And I was wish’d[1826] to your worship by a gentleman, One Captain Face, that says you know men’s planets, 15 And their good angels, and their bad.

_Sub._ I do, If I do see ’em——

[_Enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ What! my honest Abel? Thou art well met here.

_Drug._ Troth, sir, I was speaking, Just as your worship came here, of your worship. I pray you speak for me to master doctor. 20

_Face._ He shall do anything. Doctor, do you hear? This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow; He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil, Nor washes it in muscadel and grains, 25 Nor buries it in gravel, under ground, Wrapp’d up in greasy leather, or piss’d clouts: But keeps it in fine lily pots, that, open’d, Smell like conserve of roses, or French beans. He has his maple block,[1827] his silver tongs, 30 Winchester pipes, and fire of juniper:[1828] A neat, spruce, honest fellow, and no goldsmith.[1829]

_Sub._ He ’s a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on.

_Face._ Already, sir, ha’ you found it? Lo thee, Abel!

_Sub._ And in right way toward riches——

_Face._ Sir!

_Sub._ This summer, 35 He will be of the clothing of his company,[1830] And next spring call’d to the scarlet;[1831] spend what he can.

_Face._ What, and so little beard?

_Sub._ Sir, you must think, He may have a receipt to make hair come: But he ’ll be wise, preserve his youth, and fine for ’t; 40 His fortune looks for him another way.

_Face._ ’Slid, doctor, how canst thou know this so soon? I am amus’d[1832] at that.

_Sub._ By a rule, captain, In metoposcopy,[1833] which I do work by; 44 A certain star i’ the forehead, which you see not. Your chestnut or your olive-colour’d face Does never fail: and your long ear doth promise. I knew ’t, by certain spots, too, in his teeth, And on the nail of his mercurial finger.

_Face._ Which finger ’s that?

_Sub._ His little finger. Look. 50 You were born upon a Wednesday?

_Drug._ Yes, indeed, sir.

_Sub._ The thumb, in chiromancy, we give Venus; The forefinger to Jove; the midst to Saturn; The ring to Sol; the least to Mercury, Who was the lord, sir, of his horoscope, 55 His house of life being Libra; which forshow’d He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance.

_Face._ Why, this is strange! Is it not, honest Nab?

_Sub._ There is a ship now coming from Ormus, That shall yield him such a commodity 60 Of drugs——This is the west, and this the south? [_Pointing to the plan._]

_Drug._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ And those are your two sides?

_Drug._ Ay, sir.

_Sub._ Make me your door then, south; your broad side, west: And on the east side of your shop, aloft, Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat; 65 Upon the north part, Rael, Velel, Thiel. They are the names of those Mercurial spirits That do fright flies from boxes.

_Drug._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ And Beneath your threshold, bury me a loadstone 69 To draw in gallants that wear spurs: the rest, They ’ll seem[1834] to follow.

_Face._ That ’s a secret, Nab!

_Sub._ And, on your stall, a puppet, with a vice And a court-fucus,[1835] to call city-dames: You shall deal much with minerals.

_Drug._ Sir, I have. At home, already——

_Sub._ Ay, I know, you ’ve arsenic, 75 Vitriol, sal-tartar, argaile,[1836] alkali, Cinoper:[1837] I know all.—This fellow, captain, Will come, in time, to be a great distiller, And give a say[1838]—I will not say directly, But very fair—at the philosopher’s stone. 80

_Face._ Why, how now, Abel! is this true?

_Drug._ [_Aside to_ FACE.] Good captain, What must I give?

_Face._ Nay, I ’ll not counsel thee. Thou hear’st what wealth (he says, spend what thou canst), Thou ’rt like to come to.

_Drug._ I would gi’ him a crown.

_Face._ A crown! and toward such a fortune? Heart, 84 Thou shalt rather gi’ him thy shop. No gold about thee?

_Drug._ Yes, I have a portague,[1839] I ha’ kept this half-year.

_Face._ Out on thee, Nab! ’Slight, there was such an offer— Shalt keep ’t no longer, I ’ll gi’ it him for thee. Doctor, Nab prays your worship to drink this, and swears 89 He will appear more grateful, as your skill Does raise him in the world.

_Drug._ I would entreat Another favour of his worship.

_Face._ What is ’t, Nab?

_Drug._ But to look over, sir, my almanac, And cross out my ill-days.[1840] that I may neither Bargain, nor trust upon them.

_Face._ That he shall. Nab: 95 Leave it, it shall be done, ’gainst afternoon.

_Sub._ And a direction for his shelves.

_Face._ Now, Nab, Art thou well pleas’d, Nab?

_Drug._ ’Thank, sir, both your worships. 99

_Face._ Away. [_Exit_ DRUGGER.] Why, now, you smoaky persecutor of nature! Now do you see, that something ’s to be done, Beside your beech-coal, and your cor’sive[1841] waters, Your crosslets,[1842] crucibles, and cucurbites?[1843] You must have stuff brought home to you, to work on: 105 And yet you think. I am at no expense In searching out these veins, then following ’em, Then trying ’em out. ’Fore God, my intelligence Costs me more money than my share oft comes to, In these rare works.

_Sub._ You ’re pleasant, sir.—How now! 110

SCENE IV.[1844]

FACE, SUBTLE. [_Enter_] DOL.

_Sub._ What says my dainty Dolkin?

_Dol._ Yonder fish-wife Will not away. And there ’s your giantess, The bawd of Lambeth.

_Sub._ Heart, I cannot speak with ’em.

_Dol._ Not afore night, I have told ’em in a voice, Thorough the trunk, like one of your familiars. But I have spied Sir Epicure Mammon——

_Sub._ Where? 5

_Dol._ Coming along, at far end of the lane, Slow of his feet, but earnest of his tongue To one that’s with him.

_Sub._ Face, go you and shift. Dol, you must presently make ready too. 10

[_Exit_ FACE.]

_Dol._ Why, what’s the matter?

_Sub._ O, I did look for him With the sun’s rising: marvel he could sleep! This is the day I am to perfect for him The magisterium, our great work, the stone; And yield it, made, into his hands; of which 15 He has, this month, talk’d as he were possess’d. And now he’s dealing pieces on’t away. Methinks I see him ent’ring ordinaries, Dispensing for the pox, and plaguy houses, Reaching his dose, walking Moorfields for lepers, 20 And off’ring citizens’ wives pomander[1845] bracelets, As his preservative, made of the elixir; Searching the ’spital, to make old bawds young; And the highways, for beggars to make rich. I see no end of his labours. He will make 25 Nature asham’d of her long sleep; when art, Who’s but a step-dame, shall do more than she, In her best love to mankind, ever could. If his dream last, he’ll turn the age to gold. [_Exeunt._]

ACT II

SCENE I.[1846]

[_Enter_] SIR EPICURE MAMMON _and_ SURLY.

_Mam._ Come on, sir. Now you set your foot on shore In _Novo Orbe_;[1847] here’s the rich Peru: And there within, sir, are the golden mines, Great Solomon’s Ophir! He was sailing to ’t Three years, but we have reach’d it in ten months. 5 This is the day wherein, to all my friends, I will pronounce the happy word, BE RICH; THIS DAY YOU SHALL BE SPECTATISSIMI.[1848] You shall no more deal with the hollow die, 10 Or the frail card; no more be at charge of keeping The livery-punk[1849] for the young heir, that must Seal, at all hours, in his shirt: no more, If he deny, ha’ him beaten to ’t, as he is That brings him the commodity; no more Shall thirst of satin, or the covetous hunger 15 Of velvet entrails[1850] for a rude-spun cloak, To be display’d at Madam Augusta’s, make The sons of Sword and Hazard fall before The golden calf, and on their knees, whole nights, Commit idolatry with wine and trumpets: 20 Or go a feasting after drum and ensign. No more of this. You shall start up young viceroys, And have your punks and punkettees, my Surly. And unto thee I speak it first, BE RICH. Where is my Subtle there? Within, ho!

[FACE,_ within_.] Sir, 25 He’ll come to you by and by.

_Mam._ That is his fire-drake,[1851] His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that pulls his coals, Till he firk[1852] nature up, in her own centre. You are not faithful,[1853] sir. This night I’ll change All that is metal in my house to gold: 30 And, early in the morning, will I send To all the plumbers and the pewterers, And buy their tin and lead up; and to Lothbury For all the copper.

_Sur._ What, and turn that, too?

_Mam._ Yes, and I’ll purchase Devonshire and Cornwall, 35 And make them perfect Indies! You admire now?

_Sur._ No, faith.

_Mam._ But when you see th’ effects of the Great Med’cine, Of which one part projected on a hundred Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon, 40 Shall turn it to as many of the Sun;[1854] Nay, to a thousand, so _ad infinitum_; You will believe me.

_Sur._ Yes, when I see ’t, I will. But if my eyes do cozen me so, and I Giving ’em no occasion, sure I’ll have 45 A whore, shall piss ’em out next day.

_Mam._ Ha! why? Do you think I fable with you? I assure you, He that has once the flower of the sun, The perfect ruby, which we call elixir, Not only can do that, but by its virtue, 50 Can confer honour, love, respect, long life; Give safety, valour, yea, and victory, To whom he will. In eight and twenty days, I’ll make an old man of fourscore, a child.

_Sur._ No doubt; he’s that already.

_Mam._ Nay, I mean, 55 Restore his years, renew him, like an eagle, To the fifth age; make him get sons and daughters, Young giants; as our philosophers have done, The ancient patriarchs, afore the flood, But taking, once a week, on a knife’s point, 60 The quantity of a grain of mustard of it; Become stout Marses, and beget young Cupids.

_Sur._ The decay’d vestals of Pickt-hatch[1855] would thank you, That keep the fire alive there.

_Mam._ ’T is the secret Of nature naturiz’d ’gainst all infections, 65 Cures all diseases coming of all causes; A month’s grief in a day, a year’s in twelve; And, of what age soever, in a month. Past all the doses of your drugging doctors, I ’ll undertake, withal, to fright the plague 70 Out o’ the kingdom in three months.

_Sur._ And I ’ll Be bound, the players shall sing your praises then, Without their poets.[1856]

_Mam._ Sir, I ’ll do ’t. Meantime, I ’ll give away so much unto my man, Shall serve th’ whole city with preservative 75 Weekly; each house his dose, and at the rate——

_Sur._ As he that built the Water-work does with water?

_Mam._ You are incredulous.

_Sur._ Faith, I have a humour, I would not willingly be gull’d.[1857] Your stone Cannot transmute me.

_Mam._ Pertinax Surly, 80 Will you believe antiquity? Records? I ’ll show you a book where Moses, and his sister, And Solomon have written of the art; Ay, and a treatise penn’d by Adam——

_Sur._ How!

_Mam._ Of the philosopher’s stone, and in High Dutch. 85

_Sur._ Did Adam write, sir, in High Dutch?

_Mam._ He did; Which proves it was the primitive tongue.

_Sur._ What paper?

_Mam._ On cedar board.

_Sur._ O that, indeed, they say, Will last ’gainst worms.

_Mam._ ’T is like your Irish wood ’Gainst cobwebs. I have a piece of Jason’s fleece too, 90 Which was no other than a book of alchemy, Writ in large sheepskin, a good fat ram-vellum. Such was Pythagoras’ thigh, Pandora’s tub, And all that fable of Medea’s charms, 94 The manner of our work; the bulls, our furnace, Still breathing fire; our argent-vive,[1858] the dragon: The dragon’s teeth, mercury sublimate, That keeps the whiteness, hardness, and the biting; And they are gather’d into Jason’s helm, 99 Th’ alembic, and then sow’d in Mars his field, And thence sublim’d so often, till they’re fix’d. Both this, th’ Hesperian garden, Cadmus’ story, Jove’s shower, the boon of Midas, Argus’ eyes, Boccace his Demogorgon,[1859] thousands more, 104 All abstract riddles of our stone.—How now!

SCENE II.[1860]

MAMMON, SURLY. [_Enter_] FACE, [_as a Servant._]

_Mam._ Do we succeed? Is our day come? And holds it?

_Face._ The evening will set red upon you, sir; You have colour for it, crimson: the red ferment Has done his office; three hours hence prepare you To see projection.

_Mam._ Pertinax, my Surly. 5 Again I say to thee, aloud, BE RICH. This day thou shalt have ingots; and to-morrow Give lords th’ affront.—Is it, my Zephyrus, right? Blushes the bolt’s-head?[1861]

_Face._ Like a wench with child, sir, That were but now discover’d to her master. 10

_Mam._ Excellent witty Lungs!—My only care is Where to get stuff enough now, to project on;[1862] This town will not half serve me.

_Face._ No, sir? Buy The covering off o’ churches.

_Mam._ That ’s true.

_Face._ Yes. Let ’em stand bare, as do their auditory;[1863] 15 Or cap ’em new with shingles.

_Mam._ No, good thatch: Thatch will lie light upo’ the rafters, Lungs. Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace; I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff, Lost in the embers; and repair this brain, 20 Hurt wi’ the fume o’ the metals.

_Face._ I have blown, sir, Hard, for your worship; thrown by many a coal, When ’t was not beech; weigh’d those I put in, just To keep your heat still even. These blear’d eyes Have wak’d to read your several colours, sir, 25 Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow, The peacock’s tail, the plumed swan.

_Mam._ And lastly, Thou hast descried the flower, the _sanguis agni_?

_Face._ Yes, sir.

_Mam._ Where ’s master?

_Face._ At ’s prayers, sir, be; Good man, he ’s doing his devotions 30 For the success.

_Mam._ Lungs, I will set a period To all thy labours; thou shalt be the master Of my seraglio.

_Face._ Good, sir.

_Mam._ But do you hear? I ’ll geld you, Lungs.

_Face._ Yes, sir.

_Mam._ For I do mean To have a list of wives and concubines 35 Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me; and I will make me a back With the elixir, that shall be as tough As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.— Thou ’rt sure thou saw ’st it blood?

_Face._ Both blood and spirit, sir. 40

_Mam._ I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft; Down is too hard: and then, mine oval room Fill ’d with such pictures as Tiberius took From Elephantis, and dull Aretine But coldly imitated. Then, my glasses 45 Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse And multiply the figures, as I walk Naked between my succubae.[1864] My mists I ’ll have of perfume, vapour’d ’bout the room, To lose our selves in; and my baths, like pits 50 To fall into; from whence we will come forth, And roll us dry in gossamer and roses.— Is it arrived at ruby?——Where I spy A wealthy citizen, or [a] rich lawyer, Have a sublim’d pure wife, unto that fellow 55 I ’ll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.

_Face._ And I shall carry it?

_Mam._ No. I ’ll ha’ no bawds But fathers and mothers: they will do it best, Best of all others. And my flatterers Shall be the pure and gravest of divines, 60 That I can get for money. My mere fools, Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets The same that writ so subtly of the fart, Whom I will entertain still for that subject. The few that would give out themselves to be 65 Court and town-stallions, and, each-where, bely Ladies who are known most innocent, for them,— Those will I beg, to make me eunuchs of: And they shall fan me with ten estrich tails A-piece, made in a plume to gather wind. 70 We will be brave, Puff, now we ha’ the med’cine. My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells, Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies. The tongues of carps, dormice, and camels’ heels, 75 Boil’d i’ the spirit of sol, and dissolv’d pearl (Apicius’ diet, ’gainst the epilepsy): And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber, Headed with diamond and carbuncle. My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calver’d salmons,[1865] 80 Knots,[1866] godwits, lampreys: I myself will have The beards of barbel[1867] serv’d, instead of salads; Oil’d mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off, Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce; 85 For which, I ’ll say unto my cook, _There ’s gold_; _Go forth, and be a knight._

_Face._ Sir, I ’ll go look A little, how it heightens. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ Do.—My shirts I ’ll have of taffeta-sarsnet,[1868] soft and light As cobwebs; and for all my other raiment, 90 It shall be such as might provoke the Persian, Were he to teach the world riot anew. My gloves of fishes and birds’ skins, perfum’d With gums of paradise, and Eastern air——

_Sur._ And do you think to have the stone with this? 95

_Mam._ No, I do think t’ have all this with the stone.

_Sur._ Why, I have heard he must be _homo frugi_,[1869] A pious, holy, and religious man, One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.

_Mam._ That makes it, sir; he is so. But I buy it; 100 My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch, A notable, superstitious, good soul, Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald, With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let him Do it alone, for me, still. Here he comes. 105 Not a profane word afore him; ’t is poison.—

SCENE III.[1870]

MAMMON, SURLY. [_Enter_] SUBTLE.

_Mam._ Good morrow, father.

_Sub._ Gentle son, good morrow, And to your friend there. What is he is with you?

_Mam._ An heretic, that I did bring along, In hope, sir, to convert him.

_Sub._ Son, I doubt You ’re covetous, that thus you meet your time I’ the just[1871] point, prevent[1872] your day at morning. 6 This argues something worthy of a fear Of importune and carnal appetite. Take heed you do not cause the blessing leave you, With your ungovern’d haste. I should be sorry To see my labours, now e’en at perfection, 11 Got by long watching and large patience, Not prosper where my love and zeal hath plac’d ’em. Which (heaven I call to witness, with your self, To whom I have pour’d my thoughts) in all my ends, 15 Have look’d no way, but unto public good, To pious uses, and dear charity, Now grown a prodigy with men. Wherein If you, my son, should now prevaricate, And to your own particular lusts employ 20 So great and catholic a bliss, be sure A curse will follow, yea, and overtake Your subtle and most secret ways.

_Mam._ I know, sir; You shall not need to fear me; I but come To ha’ you confute this gentleman.

_Sur._ Who is, 25 Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief Toward your stone; would not be gull’d.

_Sub._ Well, son, All that I can convince him in, is this, The work is done, bright Sol is in his robe. We have a med’cine of the triple soul, 30 The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven, And make us worthy of it!—=Ulen Spiegel!=[1873]

_Face._ [_within._] Anon, sir.

_Sub._ Look well to the register. And let your heat still lessen by degrees, To the aludels.[1874] 35

_Face._ [_within._] Yes, sir.

_Sub._ Did you look O’ the bolt’s head yet?

_Face._ [_within._] Which? On D, sir?

_Sub._ Ay; What’s the complexion?

_Face._ [_within._] Whitish.

_Sub._ Infuse vinegar, 40 To draw his volatile substance and his tincture: And let the water in glass E be filt’red, And put into the gripe’s egg.[1875] Lute[1876] him well; And leave him clos’d _in balneo_.[1877]

_Face._ [_within._] I will, sir.

_Sur._ What a brave language here is! next to canting.[1878] 45

_Sub._ I have another work you never saw, son, That three days since past the philosopher’s wheel, In the lent heat of Athanor;[1879] and ’s become Sulphur o’ Nature.

_Mam._ But ’tis for me?

_Sub._ What need you? You have enough, in that is, perfect.

_Mam._ O, but—— 50

_Sub._ Why, this is covetise!

_Mam._ No, I assure you, I shall employ it all in pious uses, Founding of colleges and grammar schools, Marrying young virgins, building hospitals, And, now and then, a church.

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Sub._ How now!

_Face._ Sir, please you, 55 Shall I not change the filter?

_Sub._ Marry, yes; And bring me the complexion of glass B. [_Exit_ FACE.]

_Mam._ Ha’ you another?

_Sub._ Yes, son; were I assur’d Your piety were firm, we would not want The means to glorify it: but I hope the best. 60 I mean to tinct C in sand-heat to-morrow, And give him imbibition.[1880]

_Mam._ Of white oil?

_Sub._ No, sir, of red. F is come over the helm too, I thank my maker, in S. Mary’s bath. And shows _lac virginis_. Blessed be heaven! 65 I sent you of his faeces there calcin’d: Out of that calx, I ha’ won the salt of mercury.

_Mam._ By pouring on your rectified water?

_Sub._ Yes, and reverberating in Athanor. [_Re-enter_ FACE.] How now! what colour says it?

_Face._ The ground black, sir. 70

_Mam._ That’s your crow’s head?

_Sur._ Your cock’s comb’s, is it not?

_Sub._ No, ’t is not perfect. Would it were the crow! That work wants something.

_Sur._ [_Aside._] O, I look’d for this, The hay’s[1881] a pitching.

_Sub._ Are you sure you loos’d ’em In their own menstrue?[1882]

_Face._ Yes, sir, and then married ’em, 75 And put ’em in a bolt’s-head nipp’d to digestion, According as you bade me, when I set The liquor of Mars to circulation In the same heat.

_Sub._ The process then was right. 79

_Face._ Yes, by the token, sir, the retort brake, And what was sav’d was put into the pellican, And sign’d with Hermes’ seal.

_Sub._ I think ’t was so. We should have a new amalgama.

_Sur._ [_Aside._] O, this ferret Is rank as any polecat.

_Sub._ But I care not; Let him e’en die; we have enough beside, 85 In embrion. H has his white shirt on?

_Face._ Yes, sir, He’s ripe for inceration, he stands warm, In his ash-fire. I would not you should let Any die now, if I might counsel, sir, For luck’s sake to the rest: it is not good. 90

_Mam._ He says right.

_Sur._ (_Aside._) Ay, are you bolted?

_Face._ Nay, I know ’t, sir, I ’ve seen th’ ill fortune. What is some three ounces Of fresh materials?

_Mam._ Is ’t no more?

_Face._ No more, sir, Of gold, t’ amalgam with some six of mercury.

_Mam._ Away, here’s money. What will serve?

_Face._ Ask him, sir. 94

_Mam._ How much?

_Sub._ Give him nine pound: you may gi’ him ten.

_Sur._ Yes, twenty, and be cozen’d, do.

_Mam._ There ’t is. [_Gives_ FACE _the money_.]

_Sub._ This needs not; but that you will have it so, To see conclusions of all: for two Of our inferior works are at fixation, 100 A third is in ascension. Go your ways. Ha’ you set the oil of Luna in kemia?

_Face._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ And the philosopher’s vinegar?

_Face._ Ay. [_Exit._]

_Sur._ We shall have a salad!

_Mam._ When do you make projection?

_Sub._ Son, be not hasty, I exalt our med’cine, By hanging him _in balneo vaporoso_, 105 And giving him solution; then congeal him; And then dissolve him; then again congeal him; For look, how oft I iterate the work, So many times I add unto his virtue. 110 As, if at first one ounce convert a hundred, After his second loose, he ’ll turn a thousand; His third solution, ten; his fourth, a hundred; After his fifth, a thousand thousand ounces Of any imperfect metal, into pure 115 Silver or gold, in all examinations, As good as any of the natural mine. Get you your stuff here against afternoon, Your brass, your pewter, and your andirons.

_Mam._ Not those of iron?

_Sub._ Yes, you may bring them too; 120 We ’ll change all metals.

_Sur._ I believe you in that.

_Mam._ Then I may send my spits?

_Sub._ Yes, and your racks.

_Sur._ And dripping-pans, and pot-hangers, and hooks? Shall he not?

_Sub._ If he please.

_Sur._ —To be an ass. 124

_Sub._ How, sir!

_Mam._ This gent’man you must bear withal. I told you he had no faith.

_Sur._ And little hope, sir; But much less charity, should I gull myself.

_Sub._ Why, what have you observ’d, sir, in our art, Seems so impossible?

_Sur._ But your whole work, no more. That you should hatch gold in a furnace, sir, As they do eggs in Egypt!

_Sub._ Sir, do you 131 Believe that eggs are hatch’d so?

_Sur._ If I should?

_Sub._ Why, I think that the greater miracle. No egg but differs from a chicken more Than metals in themselves.

_Sur._ That cannot be. 135 The egg’s ordain’d by nature to that end, And is a chicken _in potentia_.

_Sub._ The same we say of lead and other metals, Which would be gold if they had time.

_Mam._ And that Our art doth further.

_Sub._ Ay, for ’t were absurd 140 To think that nature in the earth bred gold Perfect i’ the instant: something went before. There must be remote matter.

_Sur._ Ay, what is that?

_Sub._ Marry, we say——

_Mam._ Ay, now it heats: stand, father, Pound him to dust.

_Sub._ It is, of the one part, 145 A humid exhalation, which we call _Materia liquida_, or the unctuous water; On th’ other part, a certain crass and viscous Portion of earth; both which, concorporate, Do make the elementary matter of gold; 150 Which is not yet _proprio materia_, But common to all metals and all stones; For, where it is forsaken of that moisture, And hath more dryness, it becomes a stone: Where it retains more of the humid fatness, 155 It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, Who are the parents of all other metals. Nor can this remote matter suddenly Progress so from extreme unto extreme, 159 As to grow gold, and leap o’er all the means. Nature doth first beget th’ imperfect, then Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that airy And oily water, mercury is engend’red; Sulphur o’ the fat and earthy part; the one, 164 Which is the last, supplying the place of male, The other of the female, in all metals. Some do believe hermaphrodeity, That both do act and suffer. But these two Make the rest ductile, malleable, extensive. And even in gold they are; for we do find 170 Seeds of them by our fire, and gold in them; And can produce the species of each metal More perfect thence, than nature doth in earth. Beside, who doth not see in daily practice Art can beget bees, hornets, beetles, wasps, 175 Out of the carcases and dung of creatures; Yea, scorpions of an herb, being rightly plac’d? And these are living creatures, far more perfect And excellent than metals.

_Mam._ Well said, father! Nay, if he take you in hand, sir, with an argument, 180 He ’ll bray you in a mortar.

_Sur._ Pray you, sir, stay. Rather than I ’ll be bray’d, sir, I ’ll believe That Alchemy is a pretty kind of game, Somewhat like tricks o’ the cards, to cheat a man With charming.

_Sub._ Sir?

_Sur._ What else are all your terms, 185 Whereon no one o’ your writers ’grees with other? Of your elixir, your _lac virginis_, Your stone, your med’cine, and your chrysosperm, Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury, 189 Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood, Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia, Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther; Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop, Your lato, azoch, zernich, chibrit, heautarit, 194 And then your red man, and your white woman, With all your broths, your menstrues, and materials Of piss and egg-shells, women’s terms, man’s blood, Hair o’ the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay, Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass, And worlds of other strange ingredients, 200 Would burst a man to name?

_Sub._ And all these, nam’d, Intending but one thing; which art our writers Us’d to obscure their art.

_Mam._ Sir, so I told him— Because[1883] the simple idiot should not learn it, And make it vulgar.

_Sub._ Was not all the knowledge 205 Of the Aegyptians writ in mystic symbols? Speak not the scriptures oft in parables? Are not the choicest fables of the poets, That were the fountains and first springs of wisdom, Wrapt in perplexed allegories?

_Mam._ I urg’d that, 210 And clear’d to him, that Sisyphus was damn’d To roll the ceaseless stone, only because He would have made ours common. (DOL _is seen_) [_at the door._]—Who is this?

_Sub._ God’s precious!—What do you mean? Go in, good lady. Let me entreat you. [DOL _retires_.]—Where ’s this varlet?

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ Sir. 215

_Sub._ You very knave! do you use me thus?

_Face._ Wherein, sir?

_Sub._ Go in and see, you traitor. Go! [_Exit_ FACE.]

_Mam._ Who is it, sir?

_Sub._ Nothing, sir; nothing.

_Mam._ What ’s the matter, good sir? I have not seen you thus distemp’red: who is ’t?

_Sub._ All arts have still had, sir, their adversaries; 220 But ours the most ignorant.— FACE _returns_. What now?

_Face._ ’T was not my fault, sir; she would speak with you.

_Sub._ Would she, sir! Follow me. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ [_stopping him._] Stay, Lungs.

_Face._ I dare not, sir.

_Mam._ How! pray thee, stay.

_Face._ She ’s mad, sir, and sent hither— 225

_Mam._ Stay, man; what is she?

_Face._ A lord’s sister, sir. He ’ll be mad too.—

_Mam._ I warrant thee.—Why sent hither?

_Face._ Sir, to be cur’d.

_Sub._ [_within._] Why, rascal!

_Face._ Lo you!—Here, sir! _Exit._

_Mam._ ’Fore God, a Bradamante, a brave piece.

_Sur._ Heart, this is a bawdy-house! I ’ll be burnt else. 230

_Mam._ O, by this light, no: do not wrong him. He ’s Too scrupulous that way: it is his vice. No, he ’s a rare physician, do him right, An excellent Paracelsian, and has done Strange cures with mineral physic. He deals all With spirits, he; he will not hear a word 236 Of Galen; or his tedious recipes.— FACE _again_. How now, Lungs!

_Face._ Softly, sir; speak softly. I meant To ha’ told your worship all. This must not hear.

_Mam._ No, he will not be gull’d; let him alone.

_Face._ You ’re very right, sir; she is a most rare scholar, 241 And is gone mad with studying Broughton’s[1884] works. If you but name a word touching the Hebrew, She falls into her fit, and will discourse So learnedly of genealogies, 245 As you would run mad too, to hear her, sir.

_Mam._ How might one do t’ have conference with her. Lungs?

_Face._ O, divers have run mad upon the conference. I do not know, sir: I am sent in haste To fetch a vial.

_Sur._ Be not gull’d. Sir Mammon. 250

_Mam._ Wherein? Pray ye, be patient.

_Sur._ Yes, as you are, And trust confederate knaves and bawds and whores.

_Mam._ You are too foul, believe it.—Come here, =Ulen=, One word.

_Face._ I dare not, in good faith. [_Going._]

_Mam._ Stay, knave.

_Face._ He ’s extreme angry that you saw her, sir. 255

_Mam._ Drink that. [_Gives him money._] What is she when she ’s out of her fit?

_Face._ O, the most affablest creature, sir! so merry! So pleasant! She ’ll mount you up, like quicksilver, Over the helm; and circulate like oil, A very vegetal: discourse of state, 260 Of mathematics, bawdry, anything——

_Mam._ Is she no way accessible? no means, No trick to give a man a taste of her——wit—— Or so?

[_Sub. within._] =Ulen!=

_Face._ I ’ll come to you again, sir. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ Surly, I did not think one o’ your breeding 266 Would traduce personages of worth.

_Sur._ Sir Epicure, Your friend to use; yet still loth to be gull’d: I do not like your philosophical bawds. Their stone is lechery enough to pay for, 270 Without this bait.

_Mam._ Heart, you abuse yourself. I know the lady, and her friends, and means, The original of this disaster. Her brother Has told me all.

_Sur._ And yet you ne’er saw her Till now! 275

_Mam._ O yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it, One o’ the treacherous’st memories, I do think, Of all mankind.

_Sur._ What call you her brother?

_Mam._ My lord—— He wi’ not have his name known, now I think on ’t.

_Sur._ A very treacherous memory!

_Mam._ O’ my faith—— 280

_Sur._ Tut, if you ha’ it not about you, pass it Till we meet next.

_Mam._ Nay, by this hand, ’t is true. He ’s one I honour, and my noble friend; And I respect his house.

_Sur._ Heart! can it be That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need, 285 A wise sir, too, at other times, should thus, With his own oaths, and arguments, make hard means To gull himself? An this be your elixir, Your _lapis mineralis_, and your lunary, Give me your honest trick yet at primero, 290 Or gleek,[1885] and take your _lutum sapientis_, Your _menstruum simplex_! I ’ll have gold before you, And with less danger of the quicksilver, Or the hot sulphur.

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ Here ’s one from Captain Face, sir. (_To_ SURLY.) 295 Desires you meet him i’ the Temple-church, Some half-hour hence, and upon earnest business. Sir, (_whispers_ MAMMON) if you please to quit us now, and come Again within two hours, you shall have My master busy examining o’ the works; 300 And I will steal you in unto the party, That you may see her converse.—Sir, shall I say You ’ll meet the captain’s worship?

_Sur._ Sir, I will.— [_Walks aside._] But, by attorney, and to a second purpose. Now, I am sure it is a bawdy-house; 305 I ’ll swear it, were the marshal here to thank me: The naming this commander doth confirm it. Don Face! why, he ’s the most authentic dealer I’ these commodities, the superintendent To all the quainter traffickers in town! 310 He is the visitor, and does appoint Who lies with whom, and at what hour; what price; Which gown, and in what smock; what fall;[1886] what tire.[1887] Him will I prove, by a third person, to find The subtleties of this dark labyrinth: 315 Which if I do discover, dear Sir Mammon, You ’ll give your poor friend leave, though no philosopher, To laugh; for you that are, ’t is thought, shall weep.

_Face._ Sir, he does pray you ’ll not forget.

_Sur._ I will not, sir. Sir Epicure, I shall leave you. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ I follow you straight, 320

_Face._ But do so, good sir, to avoid suspicion. This gent’man has a parlous head.

_Mam._ But wilt thou, =Ulen=, Be constant to thy promise?

_Face._ As my life, sir.

_Mam._ And wilt thou insinuate what I am, and praise me, And say I am a noble fellow?

_Face._ O, what else, sir? 325 And that you ’ll make her royal with the stone, An empress; and yourself King of Bantam.

_Mam._ Wilt thou do this?

_Face._ Will I, sir!

_Mam._ Lungs, my Lungs! I love thee.

_Face._ Send your stuff, sir, that my master May busy himself about projection. 330

_Mam._ Thou ’st witch’d me, rogue: take, go. [_Gives him money._]

_Face._ Your jack, and all, sir.

_Mam._ Thou art a villain—I will send my jack, And the weights too. Slave, I could bite thine ear. Away, thou dost not care for me.

_Face._ Not I, sir!

_Mam._ Come, I was born to make thee, my good weasel, 325 Set thee on a bench, and ha’ thee twirl a chain With the best lord’s vermin of ’em all.

_Face._ Away, sir.

_Mam._ A count, nay, a count palatine——

_Face._ Good sir, go.

_Mam._ Shall not advance thee better: no, nor faster. [_Exit._]

SCENE IV.[1888]

FACE. [_Re-enter_] SUBTLE _and_ DOL.

_Sub._ Has he bit? has he bit?

_Face._ And swallow’d, too, my Subtle. I ha’ given him line, and now he plays, i’ faith.

_Sub._ And shall we twitch him?

_Face._ Thorough both the gills. A wench is a rare bait, with which a man No sooner ’s taken, but he straight firks mad.[1889] 5

_Sub._ Dol, my Lord What’s-hum’s sister, you must now Bear yourself _statelich_.

_Dol._ O, let me alone, I ’ll not forget my race, I warrant you. I ’ll keep my distance, laugh and talk aloud; Have all the tricks of a proud scurvy lady, 10 And be as rude ’s her woman.

_Face._ Well said, sanguine![1890]

_Sub._ But will he send his andirons?

_Face._ His jack too, And ’s iron shoeing-horn; I ha’ spoke to him. Well, I must not lose my wary gamester yonder.

_Sub._ O, Monsieur Caution, that will not be gull’d? 15

_Face._ Ay, If I can strike a fine hook into him, now!— The Temple-church, there I have cast mine angle. Well, pray for me. I ’ll about it. (_One knocks._)

_Sub._ What, more gudgeons![1891] 20 Dol, scout, scout! [DOL _goes to the window_.] Stay, Face, you must go to the door; ’Pray God it be my anabaptist—Who is ’t, Dol?

_Dol._ I know him not: he looks like a gold-end-man.[1892]

_Sub._ Gods so! ’t is he, he said he would send—what call you him? The sanctified elder, that should deal 25 For Mammon’s jack and andirons. Let him in. Stay, help me off, first, with my gown. [_Exit_ FACE _with the gown_.] Away, Madam, to your withdrawing chamber. Now, [_Exit_ DOL.] In a new tune, new gesture, but old language.— This fellow is sent from one negotiates with me About the stone too, for the holy brethren 31 Of Amsterdam, the exil’d saints, that hope To raise their discipline[1893] by it. I must use him In some strange fashion now, to make him admire me.

SCENE V.[1894]

SUBTLE. [_Enter_] ANANIAS.

Where is my drudge? [_Aloud._]

[_Enter_] FACE.

_Face._ Sir!

_Sub._ Take away the recipient, And rectify your menstrue from the phlegma. Then pour it on the Sol, in the cucurbite, And let ’em macerate together.

_Face._ Yes, sir. And save the ground?

_Sub._ No: _terra damnata_ 5 Must not have entrance in the work.—Who are you?

_Ana._ A faithful brother,[1895] if it please you.

_Sub._ What ’s that? A Lullianist? a Ripley?[1896] _Filius artis?_ Can you sublime and dulcify? Calcine? Know you the sapor pontic? Sapor stiptic? 10 Or what is homogene, or heterogene?

_Ana._ I understand no heathen language, truly.

_Sub._ Heathen! You Knipperdoling?[1897] Is Ars sacra, Or chrysopoeia, or spagyrica, Or the pamphysic, or panarchic knowledge, 15 A heathen language?

_Ana._ Heathen Greek, I take it.

_Sub._ How! Heathen Greek?

_Ana._ All ’s heathen but the Hebrew.

_Sub._ Sirrah my varlet, stand you forth and speak to him Like a philosopher: answer i’ the language. Name the vexations, and the martyrizations 20 Of metals in the work.

_Face._ Sir, putrefaction, Solution, ablution, sublimation, Cohobation, calcination, ceration, and Fixation.

_Sub._ This is heathen Greek, to you, now!— And when comes vivification?

_Face._ After mortification. 25

_Sub._ What ’s cohobation?

_Face._ ’T is the pouring on Your _aqua regis_, and then drawing him off, To the trine circle of the seven spheres.

_Sub._ What ’s the proper passion of metals?

_Face._ Malleation.

_Sub._ What ’s your _ultimum supplicium auri_?

_Face._ Antimonium. 30

_Sub._ This ’s heathen Greek to you!—And what ’s your mercury?

_Face._ A very fugitive, he will be gone, sir.

_Sub._ How know you him?

_Face._ By his viscosity, His oleosity, and his suscitability.

_Sub._ How do you sublime him?

_Face._ With the calce of egg-shells, 35 White marble, talc.

_Sub._ Your magisterium now, What ’s that?

_Face._ Shifting, sir, your elements, Dry into cold, cold into moist, moist into hot, Hot into dry.

_Sub._ This is heathen Greek to you still! Your _lapis philosophicus_?

_Face._ ’T is a stone, 40 And not a stone; a spirit, a soul, and a body: Which if you do dissolve, it is dissolv’d; If you coagulate, it is coagulated; If you make it to fly, it flieth.

_Sub._ Enough. [_Exit_ FACE.] This ’s heathen Greek to you! What are you, sir? 45

_Ana._ Please you, a servant of the exil’d brethren, That deal with widows’ and with orphans’ goods, And make a just account unto the saints: A deacon.

_Sub._ O, you are sent from Master Wholesome, Your teacher?

_Ana._ From Tribulation Wholesome, 51 Our very zealous pastor.

_Sub._ Good! I have Some orphans’ goods to come here.

_Ana._ Of what kind, sir?

_Sub._ Pewter and brass, andirons and kitchen-ware. Metals, that we must use our med’cine on: 55 Wherein the brethren may have a penn’orth For ready money.

_Ana._ Were the orphans’ parents Sincere professors?

_Sub._ Why do you ask?

_Ana._ Because We then are to deal justly, and give, in truth, Their utmost value.

_Sub._ ’Slid, you ’d cozen else, 60 An if their parents were not of the faithful!— I will not trust you, now I think on it, Till I ha’ talk’d with your pastor. Ha’ you brought money To buy more coals?

_Ana._ No, surely.

_Sub._ No? How so?

_Ana._ The brethren bid me say unto you, sir, Surely, they will not venture any more 66 Till they may see projection.

_Sub._ How!

_Ana._ You ’ve had For the instruments, as bricks, and lome, and glasses, Already thirty pound; and for materials, They say, some ninety more: and they have heard since, 70 That one, at Heidelberg, made it of an egg, And a small paper of pin-dust.

_Sub._ What’s your name?

_Ana._ My name is Ananias.

_Sub._ Out, the varlet That cozen’d the apostles! Hence, away! Flee, mischief! had your holy consistory 75 No name to send me, of another sound Than wicked Ananias? Send your elders Hither, to make atonement for you, quickly, And gi’ me satisfaction; or out goes The fire; and down th’ alembics, and the furnace, 80 _Piger Henricus_, or what not. Thou wretch! Both _sericon_ and _bufo_ shall be lost. Tell ’em. All hope of rooting out the bishops, Or th’ anti-Christian hierarchy shall perish, If they stay threescore minutes: the aqueity, Terreity, and sulphureity 86 Shall run together again, and all be annull’d. Thou wicked Ananias! [_Exit_ ANANIAS.] This will fetch ’em, And make ’em haste towards their gulling more. A man must deal like a rough nurse, and fright Those that are froward, to an appetite. 91

SCENE VI.[1898]

SUBTLE. [_Enter_] FACE [_in his uniform, followed by_] DRUGGER.

_Face._ He ’s busy with his spirits, but we’ll upon him.

_Sub._ How now! What mates, what Bayards[1899] ha’ we here?

_Face._ I told you he would be furious.—Sir, here ’s Nab Has brought you another piece of gold to look on; —We must appeass him. Give it me,—and prays you, 5 You would devise—what is it, Nab?

_Drug._ A sign, sir.

_Face._ Ay, a good lucky one, a thriving sign, doctor.

_Sub._ I was devising now.

_Face._ [_Aside to_ SUBTLE.] ’Slight, do not say so, He will repent he ga’ you any more.— What say you to his constellation, doctor, 10 The Balance?

_Sub._ No, that way is stale and common. A townsman born in Taurus, gives the bull, Or the bull’s head: in Aries, the ram,— A poor-device! No, I will have his name 14 Form’d in some mystic character; whose _radii_, Striking the senses of the passers-by, Shall, by a virtual[1900] influence, breed affections, That may result upon the party owns it: As thus—— 19

_Face._ Nab!

_Sub._ He first shall have a _bell_, that’s _Abel_; And by it standing one whose name is _Dee_,[1901] In a _rug_[1902] gown, there’s _D_, and _Rug_, that ’s _drug_ And right anenst him a dog snarling _er_; There’s Drugger, Abel Drugger. That ’s his sign. And here ’s now mystery and hieroglyphic! 25

_Face._ Abel, thou art made.

_Drug._ Sir, I do thank his worship.

_Face._ Six o’ thy legs[1903] more will not do it, Nab. He has brought you a pipe of tobacco, doctor.

_Drug._ Yes, sir; I have another thing I would impart—— 29

_Face._ Out with it, Nab.

_Drug._ Sir, there is lodg’d, hard by me, A rich young widow——

_Face._ Good! a bona roba?[1904]

_Drug._ But nineteen at the most.

_Face._ Very good, Abel.

_Drug._ Marry, she’s not in fashion yet; she wears A hood, but ’t stands a cop.[1905]

_Face._ No matter, Abel.

_Drug._ And I do now and then give her a fucus[1906]—— 35

_Face._ What! dost thou deal, Nab?

_Sub._ I did tell you, captain.

_Drug._ And physic too, sometime, sir; for which she trusts me With all her mind. She’s come up here of purpose To learn the fashion.

_Face._ Good (his match too!)—On, Nab.

_Drug._ And she does strangely long to know her fortune. 40

_Face._ God’s lid, Nab, send her to the doctor, hither.

_Drug._ Yes, I have spoke to her of his worship already; But she ’s afraid it will be blown abroad, And hurt her a marriage.

_Face._ Hurt it! ’t is the way To heal it, if ’t were hurt; to make it more 45 Follow’d and sought. Nab, thou shalt tell her this. She ’ll be more known, more talk’d of; and your widows Are ne’er of any price till they be famous; Their honour is their multitude of suitors. 49 Send her, it may be thy good fortune. What! Thou dost not know?

_Drug._ No, sir, she ’ll never marry Under a knight: her brother has made a vow.

_Face._ What! and dost thou despair, my little Nab, Knowing what the doctor has set down for thee, And seeing so many o’ the city dubb’d? 55 One glass o’ thy water, with a madam I know, Will have it done, Nab. What ’s her brother? a knight?

_Drug._ No, sir, a gentleman newly warm in ’s land, sir, Scarce cold in his one and twenty, that does govern His sister here; and is a man himself 60 Of some three thousand a year, and is come up To learn to quarrel, and to live by his wits, And will go down again, and die i’ the country.

_Face._ How! to quarrel?

_Drug._ Yes, sir, to carry quarrels, As gallants do; to manage ’em by line. 65

_Face._ ’Slid, Nab, the doctor is the only man In Christendom for him. He has made a table, With mathematical demonstrations, Touching the art of quarrels: he will give him An instrument to quarrel by. Go, bring ’em both, 70 Him and his sister. And, for thee, with her The doctor happ’ly may persuade. Go to: ’Shalt give his worship a new damask suit Upon the premises.

_Sub._ O, good captain!

_Face._ He shall; He is the honestest fellow, doctor. Stay not, 75 No offers; bring the damask, and the parties.

_Drug._ I ’ll try my power, sir.

_Face._ And thy will too, Nab.

_Sub._ ’T is good tobacco, this! What is ’t an ounce?

_Face._ He ’ll send you a pound, doctor.

_Sub._ O no.

_Face._ He will do ’t. It is the goodest soul!—Abel, about it. 80 Thou shalt know more anon. Away, be gone. [_Exit_ ABEL.] A miserable rogue, and lives with cheese, And has the worms. That was the cause, indeed, Why he came now: he dealth with me in private, 84 To get a med’cine for ’em.

_Sub._ And shall, sir. This works.

_Face._ A wife, a wife for one on ’s, my dear Subtle! We ’ll e’en draw lots, and he that fails, shall have The more in goods, the other has in tail.

_Sub._ Rather the less; for she may be so light She may want grains.

_Face._ Ay; or be such a burden, 90 A man would scarce endure her for the whole.

_Sub._ Faith, best let ’s see her first, and then determine.

_Face._ Content: but Dol must ha’ no breath on ’t.

_Sub._ Mum. Away you, to your Surly yonder, catch him.

_Face._ Pray God I ha’ not staid too long. 95

_Sub._ I fear it. [_Exeunt._]

ACT III

SCENE I.[1907]

[_Enter_] TRIBULATION [WHOLESOME] _and_ ANANIAS.

_Tri._ These chastisements are common to the saints, And such rebukes we of the separation Must bear with willing shoulders, as the trials Sent forth to tempt our frailties.

_Ana._ In pure zeal, I do not like the man; he is a heathen, 5 And speaks the language of Canaan, truly.

_Tri._ I think him a profane person indeed.

_Ana._ He bears The visible mark of the beast in his forehead. And for his stone, it is a work of darkness, And with philosophy blinds the eyes of man. 10

_Tri._ Good brother, we must bend unto all means That may give furtherance to the holy cause.

_Ana._ Which his cannot: the sanctified cause Should have a sanctified course.

_Tri._ Not always necessary: The children of perdition are oft times 15 Made instruments even of the greatest works. Beside, we should give somewhat to man’s nature, The place he lives in, still about the fire, And fume of metals, that intoxicate The brain of man, and make him prone to passion. 20 Where have you greater atheists than your cooks? Or more profane, or choleric, than your glass-men? More anti-Christian than your bell-founders? What makes the devil so devilish, I would ask you, Sathan, our common enemy, but his being 25 Perpetually about the fire, and boiling Brimstone and arsenic? We must give, I say, Unto the motives, and the stirrers up Of humours in the blood. It may be so, When as the work is done, the stone is made, 30 This heat of his may turn into a zeal, And stand up for the beauteous discipline Against the menstruous cloth and rag of Rome. We must await his calling, and the coming Of the good spirit. You did fault, t’ upbraid him 35 With the brethren’s blessing of Heidelberg, weighing What need we have to hasten on the work, For the restoring of the silenc’d saints,[1908] Which ne’er will be but by the philosopher’s stone. And so a learned elder, one of Scotland, 40 Assur’d me; _aurum potabile_ being The only med’cine for the civil magistrate, T’ incline him to a feeling of the cause; And must be daily us’d in the disease.

_Ana._ I have not edified more, truly, by man; Not since the beautiful light first shone on me: 46 And I am sad my zeal hath so offended.

_Tri._ Let us call on him then.

_Ana._ The motion ’s good, And of the spirit; I will knock first. [_Knocks._] Peace be within! [_The door is opened, and they enter._]

SCENE II.[1909]

[_Enter_] SUBTLE, [_followed by_] TRIBULATION _and_ ANANIAS.

_Sub._ O, are you come? ’T was time. Your threescore minutes Were at last thread, you see; and down had gone _Furnus acediae, turris circulatorius:_ Limbec, bolt’s-head, retort, and pelican Had all been cinders. Wicked Ananias! 5 Art thou return’d? Nay, then it goes down yet.

_Tri._ Sir, be appeased; he is come to humble Himself in spirit, and to ask your patience, If too much zeal hath carried him aside From the due path.

_Sub._ Why, this doth qualify! 10

_Tri._ The brethren had no purpose, verily, To give you the least grievance; but are ready To lend their willing hands to any project The spirit and you direct.

_Sub._ This qualifies more!

_Tri._ And for the orphans’ goods, let them be valu’d, 15 Or what is needful else to the holy work, It shall be numb’red; here, by me, the saints Throw down their purse before you.

_Sub._ This qualifies most! Why, thus it should be, now you understand. Have I discours’d so unto you of our stone, 20 And of the good that it shall bring your cause? Show’d you (beside the main of hiring forces Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your friends, From th’ Indies, to serve you, with all their fleet) That even the med’cinal use shall make you a faction 25 And party in the realm? As, put the case, That some great man in state, he have the gout, Why, you but send three drops of your elixir, You help him straight: there you have made a friend. Another has the palsy or the dropsy, 30 He takes of your incombustible stuff, He ’s young again: there you have made a friend. A lady that is past the feat of body, Though not of mind, and hath her face decay’d Beyond all cure of paintings, you restore 35 With the oil of talc: there you have made a friend; And all her friends. A lord that is a leper, A knight that has the bone-ache, or a squire That hath both these, you make ’em smooth and sound With a bare fricace[1910] of your med’cine; still 40 You increase your friends.

_Tri._ Ay, ’t is very pregnant.

_Sub._ And then the turning of this lawyer’s pewter To plate at Christmas——

_Ana._ Christ-tide, I pray you.

_Sub._ Yet, Ananias!

_Ana._ I have done.

_Sub._ Or changing His parcel[1911] gilt to massy gold. You cannot 45 But raise you friends. Withal, to be of power To pay an army in the field, to buy The King of France out of his realms, or Spain Out of his Indies. What can you not do Against lords spiritual or temporal, 50 That shall oppone[1912] you?

_Tri._ Verily, ’t is true. We may be temporal lords ourselves, I take it.

_Sub._ You may be anything, and leave off to make Long-winded exercises; or suck up Your _ha!_ and _hum!_ in a tune. I not deny, 55 But such as are not graced in a state, May, for their ends, be adverse in religion, And get a tune to call the flock together: For, to say sooth, a tune does much with women And other phlegmatic people; it is your bell. 60

_Ana._ Bells are profane; a tune may be religious.

_Sub._ No warning with you? Then farewell my patience. Slight, it shall down; I will not be thus tortur’d.

_Tri._ I pray you, sir.

_Sub._ All shall perish. I have spoke it.

_Tri._ Let me find grace, sir, in your eyes; the man, 65 He stands corrected; neither did his zeal, But as your self, allow a tune somewhere, Which now, being tow’rd[1913] the stone, we shall not need.

_Sub._ No, nor your holy vizard,[1914] to win widows To give you legacies; or make zealous wives 70 To rob their husbands for the common cause; Nor take the start of bonds broke but one day, And say they were forfeited by providence. Nor shall you need o’er night to eat huge meals, To celebrate your next day’s fast the better; 75 The whilst the brethren and the sisters humbled, Abate the stiffness of the flesh. Nor cast Before your hungry hearers scrupulous bones;[1915] As whether a Christian may hawk or hunt, Or whether matrons of the holy assembly 80 May lay their hair out, or wear doublets, Or have that idol, starch, about their linen.

_Ana._ It is indeed an idol.

_Tri._ Mind him not, sir. I do command thee, spirit (of zeal, but trouble), To peace within him! Pray you, sir, go on. 85

_Sub._ Nor shall you need to libel ’gainst the prelates, And shorten so your ears[1916] against the hearing Of the next wire-drawn grace. Nor of necessity Rail against plays, to please the alderman Whose daily custard you devour; nor lie 90 With zealous rage till you are hoarse. Not one Of these so singular arts. Nor call yourselves By names of Tribulation, Persecution, Restraint, Long-patience, and such like, affected By the whole family or wood[1917] of you, 95 Only for glory, and to catch the ear Of the disciple.

_Tri._ Truly, sir, they are Ways that the godly brethren have invented, For propagation of the glorious cause, As very notable means, and whereby also 100 Themselves grow soon, and profitably, famous.

_Sub._ O, but the stone, all ’s idle to ’t! Nothing! The art of angels, nature’s miracle, The divine secret that doth fly in clouds From east to west: and whose tradition 105 Is not from men, but spirits.

_Ana._ I hate traditions; I do not trust them——

_Tri._ Peace!

_Ana._ They are popish all. I will not peace: I will not——

_Tri._ Ananias!

_Ana._ Please the profane, to grieve the godly; I may not.

_Sub._ Well, Ananias, thou shalt overcome. 110

_Tri._ It is an ignorant zeal that haunts him, sir: But truly else a very faithful brother, A botcher,[1918] and a man by revelation That hath a competent knowledge of the truth.

_Sub._ Has he a competent sum there i’ the bag 115 To buy the goods within? I am made guardian, And must, for charity and conscience’ sake, Now see the most be made for my poor orphan; Though I desire the brethren, too, good gainers: There they are within. When you have view’d and bought ’em, 120 And ta’en the inventory of what they are, They are ready for projection; there ’s no more To do: cast on the med’cine, so much silver As there is tin there, so much gold as brass, I ’ll gi’ it you in by weight.

_Tri._ But how long time, 125 Sir, must the saints expect yet?

_Sub._ Let me see, How ’s the moon now? Eight, nine, ten days hence, He will be silver potate: then three days Before he citronise.[1919] Some fifteen days, The magisterium[1920] will be perfected. 130

_Ana._ About the second day of the third week, In the ninth month?

_Sub._ Yes, my good Ananias.

_Tri._ What will the orphans’ goods arise to, think you?

_Sub._ Some hundred marks, as much as fill’d three cars, Unladed now: you ’ll make six millions of ’em—— 135 But I must ha’ more coals laid in.

_Tri._ How?

_Sub._ Another load, And then we ha’ finish’d. We must now increase Our fire to _ignis ardens_;[1921] we are past _Fimus equinus_, _balnei_, _cineris_,[1922] And all those lenter[1923] heats. If the holy purse Should with this draught fall low, and that the saints 141 Do need a present sum, I have a trick To melt the pewter, you shall buy now instantly, And with a tincture make you as good Dutch dollars As any are in Holland.

_Tri._ Can you so? 145

_Sub._ Ay, and shall bide the third examination.

_Ana._ It will be joyful tidings to the brethren.

_Sub._ But you must carry it secret.

_Tri._ Ay; but stay, This act of coining, is it lawful?

_Ana._ Lawful! We know no magistrate: or, if we did, 150 This ’s foreign coin.

_Sub._ It is no coining, sir. It is but casting.

_Tri._ Ha! you distinguish well: Casting of money may be lawful.

_Ana._ ’T is, sir.

_Tri._ Truly, I take it so.

_Sub._ There is no scruple, Sir, to be made of it; believe Ananias; 155 This case of conscience he is studied in.

_Tri._ I ’ll make a question of it to the brethren.

_Ana._ The brethren shall approve it lawful, doubt not. Where shall ’t be done?

_Sub._ For that we ’ll talk anon. _Knock without._ There ’s some to speak with me. Go in, I pray you, 160 And view the parcels. That ’s the inventory. I ’ll come to you straight. [_Exeunt_ TRIB. _and_ ANA.] Who is it?—Face! appear.

SCENE III.[1924]

SUBTLE. [_Enter_] FACE [_in his uniform_].

_Sub._ How now! good prize?

_Face._ Good pox! Yond’ costive cheater Never came on.

_Sub._ How then?

_Face._ I ha’ walk’d the round Till now, and no such thing.

_Sub._ And ha’ you quit him?

_Face._ Quit him! An hell would quit him too, he were happy. ’Slight! would you have me stalk like a mill-jade, 5 All day, for one that will not yield us grains? I know him of old.

_Sub._ O, but to ha’ gull’d him, Had been a mastery.

_Face._ Let him go, black boy! And turn thee, that some fresh news may possess thee. A noble count, a don of Spain (my dear 10 Delicious compeer, and my party[1925]-bawd), Who is come hither private for his conscience And brought munition with him, six great slops,[1926] Bigger than three Dutch hoys,[1927] beside round trunks,[1928] 14 Furnish’d with pistolets,[1929] and pieces of eight,[1930] Will straight be here, my rogue, to have thy bath, (That is the colour,[1931]) and to make his batt’ry Upon our Dol, our castle, our cinqueport, Our Dover pier, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen, 20 The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit, Where is the doxy?

_Sub._ I’ll send her to thee: And but despatch my brace of little John Leydens[1932] And come again myself.

_Face._ Are they within then?

_Sub._ Numb’ring the sum.

_Face._ How much?

_Sub._ A hundred marks, boy. [_Exit._]

_Face._ Why, this is a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon! 26 Three o’ my clerk! A portague o’ my grocer! This o’ the brethren! Beside reversions And states to come, i’ the widow, and my count! My share to-day will not be bought for forty——-

[_Enter_ DOL].

_Dol._ What? 30

_Face._ Pounds, dainty Dorothy! Art thou so near?

_Dol._ Yes; say, lord general, how fares our camp?

_Face._ As with the few that had entrench’d themselves Safe, by their discipline, against a world, Dol, And laugh’d within those trenches, and grew fat 35 With thinking on the booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small parties. This dear hour, A doughty don is taken with my Dol; And thou mayst make his ransom what thou wilt. My Dousabel;[1933] he shall be brought here, fetter’d 40 With thy fair looks, before he sees thee; and thrown In a down-bed, as dark as any dungeon; Where thou shalt keep him waking with thy drum; Thy drum, my Dol, thy drum; till he be tame As the poor blackbirds were i’ the great frost, Or bees are with a bason; and so hive him 46 I’ the swan-skin coverlid and cambric sheets, Till he work honey and wax, my little God’s-gift.[1934]

_Dol._ What is he, general?

_Face._ An adalantado,[1935] 49 A grandee, girl. Was not my Dapper here yet?

_Dol._ No.

_Face._ Nor my Drugger?

_Dol._ Neither.

_Face._ A pox on ’em, They are so long a furnishing! such stinkards Would not be seen upon these festival days.— [_Re-enter_ SUBTLE.] How now! ha’ you done?

_Sub._ Done. They are gone: the sum Is here in bank, my Face. I would we knew 55 Another chapman who would buy ’em outright.

_Face._ ’Slid, Nab shall do’t against he ha’ the widow, To furnish household.

_Sub._ Excellent, well thought on: Pray God he come.

_Face._ I pray he keep away Till our new business be o’erpast.

_Sub._ But, Face, 60 How camst thou by this secret don?

_Face._ A spirit Brought me th’ intelligence in a paper here, As I was conjuring yonder in my circle For Surly; I ha’ my flies[1936] abroad. Your bath Is famous, Subtle, by my means. Sweet Dol, 65 You must go tune your virginal, no losing O’ the least time. And—do you hear?—good action! Firk like a flounder; kiss like a scallop, close; And tickle him with thy mother-tongue. His great Verdugoship[1937] has not a jot of language; 70 So much the easier to be cozen’d, my Dolly. He will come here in a hir’d coach, obscure, And our own coachman, whom I have sent as guide, No creature else. (_One knocks._) Who’s that? [_Exit_ DOL.]

_Sub._ It is not he?

_Face._ O no, not yet this hour.

[_Re-enter_ DOL.]

_Sub._ Who is’t?

_Dol._ Dapper, 75 Your clerk.

_Face._ God’s will then, Queen of Fairy, On with your tire; [_Exit_ DOL.] and, doctor, with your robes. Let’s despatch him for God’s sake.

_Sub._ ’T will be long.

_Face._ I warrant you, take but the cues I give you, It shall be brief enough. [_Goes to the window._] ’Slight, here are more! 80 Abel, and I think the angry boy, the heir, That fain would quarrel.

_Sub._ And the widow?

_Face._ No, Not that I see. Away! [_Exit_ SUB.]

SCENE IV.[1938]

FACE. [_Enter_] DAPPER.

_Face._ O, sir, you are welcome. The doctor is within a moving for you; I have had the most ado to win him to it!— He swears you ’ll be the darling o’ the dice: He never heard her highness dote till now.[1939] 5 Your aunt has giv’n you the most gracious words That can be thought on.

_Dap._ Shall I see her grace?

_Face._ See her, and kiss her too.— [_Enter_ ABEL, _followed by_ KASTRIL.] What, honest Nab! Hast brought the damask?

_Nab._ No, sir; here ’s tobacco.

_Face._ ’T is well done, Nab; thou’lt bring the damask too? 10

_Drug._ Yes. Here ’s the gentleman, captain, Master Kastril, I have brought to see the doctor.

_Face._ Where’s the widow?

_Drug._ Sir, as he likes, his sister, he says, shall come.

_Face._ O, is it so? Good time. Is your name Kastril, sir?

_Kas._ Ay, and the best o’ the Kastrils, I ’d be sorry else, 15 By fifteen hundred a year.[1940] Where is this doctor? My mad tobacco-boy here tells me of one That can do things. Has he any skill?

_Face._ Wherein, sir?

_Kas._ To carry a business, manage a quarrel fairly, Upon fit terms.

_Face._ It seems, sir, you ’re but young 20 About the town, that can make that a question.

_Kas._ Sir, not so young but I have heard some speech Of the angry boys,[1941] and seen ’em take tobacco; And in his shop; and I can take it too. And I would fain be one of ’em, and go down And practise i’ the country.

_Face._ Sir, for the duello, 26 The doctor, I assure you, shall inform you, To the least shadow of a hair; and show you An instrument he has of his own making, Wherewith, no sooner shall you make report 30 Of any quarrel, but he will take the height on ’t Most instantly, and tell in what degree Of safety it lies in, or mortality. And how it may be borne, whether in a right line, Or a half circle; or may else be cast 35 Into an angle blunt, if not acute; And this he will demonstrate. And then, rules To give and take the lie by.

_Kas._ How! to take it?

_Face._ Yes, in oblique he ’ll show you, or in circle;[1942] But ne’er in diameter.[1943] The whole town 40 Study his theorems, and dispute them ordinarily At the eating academies.

_Kas._ But does he teach Living by the wits too?

_Face._ Anything whatever. You cannot think that subtlety but he reads it. He made me a captain. I was a stark pimp, 45 Just o’ your standing, ’fore I met with him; It ’s not two months since. I ’ll tell you his method: First, he will enter you at some ordinary.

_Kas._ No, I ’ll not come there: you shall pardon me.

_Face._ For why, sir?

_Kas._ There ’s gaming there, and tricks.

_Face._ Why, would you be 50 A gallant, and not game?

_Kas._ Ay, ’t will spend a man.

_Face._ Spend you! It will repair you when you are spent. How do they live by their wits there, that have vented Six times your fortunes?

_Kas._ What, three thousand a year!

_Face._ Ay, forty thousand.

_Kas._ Are there such?

_Face._ Ay, sir, 55 And gallants yet. Here ’s a young gentleman Is born to nothing,—[_Points to_ DAPPER.] forty marks a year Which I count nothing:—he ’s to be initiated, And have a fly o’ the doctor. He will win you By unresistible luck, within this fortnight, 60 Enough to buy a barony. They will set him Upmost, at the groom porter’s,[1944] all the Christmas: And for the whole year through at every place Where there is play, present him with the chair, 64 The best attendance, the best drink, sometimes Two glasses of Canary, and pay nothing; The purest linen and the sharpest knife, The partridge next his trencher: and somewhere The dainty bed, in private, with the dainty. You shall ha’ your ordinaries bid for him, 70 As playhouses for a poet; and the master Pray him aloud to name what dish be affects, Which must be butter’d shrimps: and those that drink To no mouth else, will drink to his, as being The goodly president mouth of all the board. 75

_Kas._ Do you not gull one?

_Face._ ’Ods my life! Do you think it? You shall have a cast commander, (can but get In credit with a glover, or a spurrier, For some two pair of either’s ware aforehand,) Will, by most swift posts, dealing [but] with him, 80 Arrive at competent means to keep himself, His punk, and naked boy, in excellent fashion, And be admir’d for ’t.

_Kas._ Will the doctor teach this?

_Face._ He will do more, sir: when your land is gone, (As men of spirit hate to keep earth long), 85 In a vacation,[1945] when small money is stirring, And ordinaries suspended till the term, He’ll show a perspective,[1946] where on one side You shall behold the faces and the persons Of all sufficient young heirs in town, 90 Whose bonds are current for commodity;[1947] On th’other side, the merchants’ forms, and others, That without help of any second broker, Who would expect a share, will trust such parcels: In the third square, the very street and sign 95 Where the commodity dwells, and does but wait To be deliver’d, be it pepper, soap, Hops, or tobacco, oatmeal, woad,[1948] or cheeses. All which you may so handle, to enjoy To your own use, and never stand oblig’d. 100

_Kas._ I’ faith! is he such a fellow?

_Face._ Why, Nab here knows him. And then for making matches for rich widows, Young gentlewomen, heirs, the fortunat’st man! He’s sent to, far and near, all over England, 104 To have his counsel, and to know their fortunes.

_Kas._ God ’s will, my sister shall see him.

_Face._ I ’ll tell you, sir, What he did tell me of Nab. It ’s a strange thing— (By the way, you must eat no cheese, Nab, it breeds melancholy, And that same melancholy breeds worms) but pass it:— 109 He told me, honest Nab here was ne’er at tavern But once in’s life.

_Drug._ Truth, and no more I was not.

_Face._ And then he was so sick——

_Drug._ Could he tell you that too?

_Face._ How should I know it?

_Drug._ In troth, we had been a shooting, And had a piece of fat ram-mutton to supper, That lay so heavy o’ my stomach——

_Face._ And he has no head 115 To bear any wine; for what with the noise o’ the fiddlers, And care of his shop, for he dares keep no servants——

_Drug._ My head did so ache——

_Face._ As he was fain to be brought home. The doctor told me: and then a good old woman——

_Drug._ Yes, faith, she dwells in Seacoal-lane,—did cure me, 120 With sodden ale, and pellitory[1949] o’ the wall; Cost me but twopence. I had another sickness Was worse than that.

_Face._ Ay, that was with the grief Thou took’st for being cess’d[1950] at eighteen-pence, For the waterwork.

_Drug._ In truth, and it was like 125 T’ have cost me almost my life.

_Face._ Thy hair went off?

_Drug._ Yes, sir; ’t was done for spite.

_Face._ Nay, so says the doctor.

_Kas._ Pray thee, tobacco-boy, go fetch my suster; I’ll see this learned boy before I go; And so shall she.

_Face._ Sir, he is busy now: 130 But if you have a sister to fetch hither, Perhaps your own pains may command her sooner; And he by that time will be free.

_Kas._ I go. [_Exit._]

_Face._ Drugger, she’s thine: the damask!—[_Exit_ ABEL.] Subtle and I Must wrastle for her. [_Aside._] Come on, Master Dapper, 135 You see how I turn clients here away, To give your cause dispatch; ha’ you perform’d The ceremonies were enjoin’d you?

_Dap._ Yes, o’ the vinegar. And the clean shirt.

_Face._ ’T is well: that shirt may do you More worship than you think. Your aunt’s a-fire, 140 But that she will not show it, t’ have a sight of you. Ha’ you provided for her grace’s servants?

_Dap._ Yes, here are six score Edward shillings.

_Face._ Good!

_Dap._ And an old Harry’s sovereign.

_Face._ Very good!

_Dap._ And three James shillings, and an Elizabeth groat, 145 Just twenty nobles.[1951]

_Face._ O, you are too just. I would you had had the other noble in Maries.

_Dap._ I have some Philip and Maries.

_Face._ Ay, those same Are best of all: where are they? Hark, the doctor.

SCENE V.[1952]

FACE, DAPPER. [_Enter_] SUBTLE, _disguised like a priest of Fairy_ [_with a strip of cloth_].

_Sub._ [_in a feigned voice_.] Is yet her grace’s cousin come?

_Face._ He is come.

_Sub._ And is he fasting?

_Face._ Yes.

_Sub._ And hath cried “hum”?

_Face._ Thrice, you must answer.

_Dap._ Thrice.

_Sub._ And as oft “buz”?

_Face._ If you have, say.

_Dap._ I have.

_Sub._ Then, to her cuz, Hoping that he hath vinegar’d his senses, 5 As he was bid, the Fairy queen dispenses, By me, this robe, the petticoat of Fortune; Which that he straight put on, she doth importune. And though to Fortune near be her petticoat, 9 Yet nearer is her smock, the queen doth note: And therefore, even of that a piece she hath sent, Which, being a child, to wrap him in was rent; And prays him for a scarf he now will wear it, With as much love as then her grace did tear it, About his eyes, (_They blind him with the rag._) to show he is fortunate. 15 And, trusting unto her to make his state, He’ll throw away all worldly pelf about him; Which that he will perform, she doth not doubt him.

_Face._ She need not doubt him, sir. Alas, he has nothing But what he will part withal as willingly, 20 Upon her grace’s word—throw away your purse— As she would ask it:—handkerchiefs and all— She cannot bid that thing but he’ll obey.— If you have a ring about you, cast it off, Or a silver seal at your wrist; her grace will send (_He throws away, as they bid him._) 25 Her fairies here to search you, therefore deal Directly[1953] with her highness: if they find That you conceal a mite, you are undone.

_Dap._ Truly, there’s all.

_Face._ All what?

_Dap._ My money; truly.

_Face._ Keep nothing that is transitory about you. 30 [Aside to SUBTLE.] Bid Dol play music.—Look, the elves are come

DOL. _enters with a cittern_.

To pinch you, if you tell not the truth. Advise you. _They pinch him._

_Dap._ O! I have a paper with a spur-ryal[1954] in’t.

_Face._ _Ti, ti._ They knew’t, they say.

_Sub._ _Ti, ti, ti, ti._ He has more yet.

_Face. Ti, ti-ti-ti._ I’ the other pocket?

_Sub._ _Titi, titi, titi, titi. titi._ 35 They must pinch him or he will never confess, they say. [_They pinch him again._]

_Dap._ O, O!

_Face._ Nay, pray you, hold: he is her grace’s nephew _Ti, ti, ti?_ What care you? Good faith, you shall care.— 39 Deal plainly, sir, and shame the fairies. Show You are innocent.

_Dap._ By this good light, I ha’ nothing.

_Sub. Ti, ti, ti, ti, to, ta._ He does equivocate she says: _Ti, ti do ti, ti ti do, ti da_; and swears by the light when he is blinded.

_Dap._ By this good dark, I ha’ nothing but a half-crown 44 Of gold about my wrist, that my love gave me; And a leaden heart I wore sin’ she forsook me.

_Face._ I thought ’t was something. And would you incur Your aunt’s displeasure for these trifles? Come, I had rather you had thrown away twenty half-crowns. [_Takes it off._] You may wear your leaden heart still.—How now! 50

_Sub._ What news, Dol?

_Dol._ Yonder’s your knight, Sir Mammon.

_Face._ God’s lid, we never thought of him till now! Where is he?

_Dol._ Here hard by. He’s at the door.

_Sub._ And you are not ready now! Dol, get his suit. [_Exit_ DOL.] He must not be sent back.

_Face._ O, by no means, 55 What shall we do with this same puffin[1955] here, Now he’s o’ the spit?

_Sub._ Why, lay him back awhile, With some device. [_Re-enter_ DOL _with_ FACE’S _clothes_.] —_Ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, ti._ Would her grace speak with me? I come.—Help, Dol! _Knocking without._

_Face._ (_speaks through the keyhole._)—Who ’s there? Sir Epicure, My master’s i’ the way. Please you to walk 60 Three or four turns, but till his back be turn’d, And I am for you.—Quickly, Dol!

_Sub._ Her grace Commends her kindly to you, Master Dapper.

_Dap._ I long to see her grace.

_Sub._ She now is set At dinner in her bed, and she has sent you 65 From her own private trencher, a dead mouse, And a piece of gingerbread, to be merry withal, And stay your stomach, lest you faint with fasting: Yet if you could hold out till she saw you, she says, It would be better for you.

_Face._ Sir, he shall 70 Hold out, an’t were this two hours, for her highness; I can assure you that. We will not lose All we ha’ done.——

_Sub._ He must not see, nor speak To anybody, till then.

_Face._ For that we’ll put, sir, A stay in’s mouth.

_Sub._ Of what?

_Face._ Of gingerbread. 75 Make you it fit. He that hath pleas’d her grace Thus far, shall not now crinkle[1956] for a little.—— Gape, sir, and let him fit you. [_They thrust a gag of gingerbread into his mouth._]

_Sub._ ——Where shall we now Bestow him?

_Dol._ I’ the privy.——

_Sub._ Come along, sir, 80 I must now show you Fortune’s privy lodgings.

_Face._ Are they perfum’d, and his bath ready?

_Sub._ All: Only the fumigation ’s somewhat strong.

_Face._ [_speaking through the keyhole._] Sir Epicure, I am yours, sir, by and by. [_Exeunt with_ DAPPER.]

ACT IV

SCENE I.[1957]

[_Enter_] FACE _and_ MAMMON.

_Face._ O, sir, you ’re come i’ the only finest time.——

_Mam._ Where ’s master?

_Face._ Now preparing for projection, sir. Your stuff will be all chang’d shortly.

_Mam._ Into gold?

_Face._ To gold and silver, sir.

_Mam._ Silver I care not for.

_Face._ Yes, sir, a little to give beggars.

_Mam._ Where ’s the lady? 5

_Face._ At hand here. I ha’ told her such brave things o’ you, Touching your bounty and your noble spirit——

_Mam._ Hast thou?

_Face._ As she is almost in her fit to see you. But, good sir, no divinity i’ your conference, For fear of putting her in rage.——

_Mam._ I warrant thee. 10

_Face._ Six men [sir] will not hold her down. And then, If the old man should hear or see you——

_Mam._ Fear not.

_Face._ The very house, sir, would run mad. You know it, How scrupulous he is, and violent, ’Gainst the least act of sin. Physic or mathematics, 15 Poetry, state,[1958] or bawdry, as I told you, She will endure, and never startle; but No word of controversy.

_Mam._ I am school’d, good =Ulen=.

_Face._ And you must praise her house, remember that, And her nobility.

_Mam._ Let me alone: 20 No herald, no, nor antiquary, Lungs, Shall do it better. Go.

_Face._ [_Aside._] Why, this is yet A kind of modern happiness,[1959] to have Dol Common for a great lady. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ Now, Epicure, Heighten thyself, talk to her all in gold; 25 Rain her as many showers as Jove did drops Unto his Danaë; show the god a miser, Compar’d with Mammon. What! the stone will do ’t. She shall feel gold, taste gold, hear gold, sleep gold; Nay, we will _concumbere_ gold: I will be puissant, And mighty in my talk to her.— [_Re-enter_ FACE _with_ DOL. _richly dressed_.] Here she comes, 31

_Face._ To him, Dol, suckle him. This is the noble knight I told your ladyship——

_Mam._ Madam, with your pardon, I kiss your vesture.

_Dol._ Sir, I were uncivil If I would suffer that; my lip to you, sir. 35

_Mam._ I hope my lord your brother be in health, lady.

_Dol._ My lord my brother is, though I no lady, sir.

_Face._ [_Aside._] Well said, my Guinea bird.

_Mam._ Right noble madam——

_Face._ [_Aside._] O, we shall have most fierce idolatry.

_Mam._ ’T is your prerogative.

_Dol._ Rather your courtesy. 40

_Mam._ Were there nought else t’ enlarge your virtues to me, These answers speak your breeding and your blood.

_Dol._ Blood we boast none, sir; a poor baron’s daughter.

_Mam._ Poor! and gat you? Profane not. Had your father Slept all the happy remnant of his life 45 After that act, lien but there still, and panted, He ’d done enough to make himself, his issue. And his posterity noble.

_Dol._ Sir, although We may be said to want the gilt and trappings, The dress of honour, yet we strive to keep 50 The seeds and the materials.

_Mam._ I do see The old ingredient, virtue, was not lost, Nor the drug money us’d to make your compound. There is a strange nobility i’ your eye, This lip, that chin! Methinks you do resemble One o’ the Austriac princes.

_Face._ [_Aside._] Very like! 56 Her father was an Irish costermonger.

_Mam._ The house of Valois just had such a nose, And such a forehead yet the Medici Of Florence boast.

_Dol._ Troth, and I have been lik’ned 60 To all these princes.

_Face._ [_Aside._] I’ll be sworn, I heard it.

_Mam._ I know not how! it is not any one, But e’en the very choice of all their features.

_Face._ [_Aside._] I ’ll in, and laugh. [_Exit._]

_Mam._ A certain touch, or air, That sparkles a divinity beyond 65 An earthly beauty!

_Dol._ O, you play the courtier.

_Mam._ Good lady, gi’ me leave——

_Dol._ In faith, I may not, To mock me, sir.

_Mam._ To burn i’ this sweet flame; The phoenix never knew a nobler death.

_Dol._ Nay, now you court the courtier, and destroy 70 What you would build. This art, sir, i’ your words, Calls your whole faith in question.

_Mam._ By my soul——

_Dol._ Nay, oaths are made o’ the same air, sir.

_Mam._ Nature Never bestow’d upon mortality A more unblam’d, a more harmonious feature; She play’d the step-dame in all faces else: 76 Sweet madam, le’ me be particular——

_Dol._ Particular, sir! I pray you, know your distance.

_Mam._ In no ill sense, sweet lady: but to ask How your fair graces pass the hours? I see 80 You’re lodg’d here, i’ the house of a rare man, An excellent artist, but what ’s that to you?

_Dol._ Yes, sir; I study here the mathematics. And distillation.

_Mam._ O, I cry your pardon. He ’s a divine instructor! can extract 85 The souls of all things by his art; call all The virtues, and the miracles of the sun, Into a temperate furnace; teach dull nature What her own forces are. A man, the emp’ror Has courted above Kelly;[1960] sent his medals 90 And chains, t’ invite him.

_Dol._ Ay, and for his physic, sir——

_Mam._ Above the art of Aesculapius, That drew the envy of the thunderer! I know all this, and more.

_Dol._ Troth, I am taken, sir, Whole with these studies that contemplate nature. 95

_Mam._ It is a noble humour; but this form Was not intended to so dark a use. Had you been crooked, foul, of some coarse mould, A cloister had done well; but such a feature, That might stand up the glory of a kingdom, To live recluse is a mere solecism, 101 Though in a nunnery. It must not be. I muse, my lord your brother will permit it: You should spend half my land first, were I he. Does not this diamond better on my finger 105 Than i’ the quarry?

_Dol._ Yes.

_Mam._ Why, you are like it. You were created, lady, for the light. Here, you shall wear it; take it, the first pledge Of what I speak, to bind you to believe me.

_Dol._ In chains of adamant?

_Mam._ Yes, the strongest bands. 110 And take a secret too.—Here, by your side. Doth stand this hour the happiest man in Europe.

_Dol._ You are contented, sir?

_Mam._ Nay, in true being, The envy of princes and the fear of states.

_Dol._ Say you so, Sir Epicure?

_Mam._ Yes, and thou shalt prove it, 115 Daughter of honour. I have cast mine eye Upon thy form, and I will rear this beauty Above all styles.

_Dol._ You mean no treason, sir?

_Mam._ No, I will take away that jealousy. I am the lord of the philosopher’s stone, 120 And thou the lady.

_Dol._ How, sir! ha’ you that?

_Mam._ I am the master of the mastery.[1961] This day the good old wretch here o’ the house Has made it for us: now he ’s at projection. Think therefore thy first wish now, let me hear it; 125 And it shall rain into thy lap, no shower, But floods of gold, whole cataracts, a deluge, To get a nation on thee.

_Dol._ You are pleas’d, sir, To work on the ambition of our sex.

_Mam._ I am pleas’d the glory of her sex should know, 130 This nook here of the Friars is no climate For her to live obscurely in, to learn Physic and surgery, for the constable’s wife Of some odd hundred in Essex; but come forth, And taste the air of palaces; eat, drink 135 The toils of empirics, and their boasted practice; Tincture of pearl, and coral, gold, and amber; Be seen at feasts and triumphs; have it ask’d, What miracle she is; set all the eyes Of court a-fire, like a burning glass, 140 And work ’em into cinders, when the jewels Of twenty states adorn thee, and the light Strikes out the stars that, when thy name is mention’d, Queens may look pale; and, we but showing our love, Nero’s Poppaea may be lost in story! 145 Thus will we have it.

_Dol._ I could well consent, sir. But in a monarchy, how will this be? The prince will soon take notice, and both seize You and your stone, it being a wealth unfit For any private subject.

_Mam._ If he knew it. 150

_Dol._ Yourself do boast it, sir.

_Mam._ To thee, my life.

_Dol._ O, but beware, sir! You may come to end The remnant of your days in a loath’d prison, By speaking of it.

_Mam._ ’T is no idle fear. 154 We ’ll therefore go with all, my girl, and live In a free state, where we will eat our mullets, Sous’d in high-country wines, sup pheasants’ eggs, And have our cockles boil’d in silver shells; Our shrimps to swim again, as when they liv’d, In a rare butter made of dolphins’ milk, 160 Whose cream does look like opals; and with these Delicate meats set ourselves high for pleasure, And take us down again, and then renew Our youth and strength with drinking the elixir, And so enjoy a perpetuity 165 Of life and lust! And thou shalt ha’ thy wardrobe Richer than Nature’s, still to change thyself, And vary oft’ner, for thy pride, than she, Or Art, her wise and almost-equal servant.

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ Sir, you are too loud. I hear you every word 170 Into the laboratory. Some fitter place; The garden, or great chamber above. How like you her?

_Mam._ Excellent! Lungs. There’s for thee. [_Gives him money._]

_Face._ But do you hear? Good sir, beware, no mention of the rabbins.

_Mam._ We think not on ’em. [_Exeunt_ MAM. _and_ DOL.]

_Face._ O, it is well, sir.—Subtle! 175

SCENE II.[1962]

FACE. [_Enter_] SUBTLE.

Dost thou not laugh?

_Sub._ Yes; are they gone?

_Face._ All ’s clear.

_Sub._ The widow is come.

_Face._ And your quarreling disciple?

_Sub._ Ay.

_Face._ I must to my captainship again then.

_Sub._ Stay, bring ’em in first.

_Face._ So I meant. What is she? A bonnibel?

_Mam._ I know not.

_Face._ We’ll draw lots: 5 You ’ll stand to that?

_Sub._ What else?

_Face._ O, for a suit, To fall now like a curtain, flap!

_Sub._ To th’ door, man.

_Face._ You ’ll ha’ the first kiss, ’cause I am not ready. [_Exit._]

_Sub._ Yes, and perhaps hit you through both the nostrils.[1963] 9

_Face._ [_within._] Who would you speak with?

_Kas._ [_within._] Where ’s the captain?

_Face._ [_within._] Gone, sir, About some business.

_Kas._ [_within._] Gone!

_Face._ [_within._] He ’ll return straight. But, master doctor, his lieutenant, is here.

[_Enter_ KASTRIL, _followed by_ Dame PLIANT.]

_Sub._ Come near, my worshipful boy, _my terræ fili_, That is, my boy of land; make thy approaches: Welcome; I know thy lusts and thy desires, 15 And I will serve and satisfy ’em. Begin, Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this line; Here is my centre: ground thy quarrel.

_Kas._ You lie.

_Sub._ How, child of wrath and anger! the loud lie? For what, my sudden boy?

_Kas._ Nay, that look you to, 20 I am aforehand.

_Sub._ O, this is no true grammar, And as ill logic! You must render causes, child, Your first and second intentions, know your canons And your divisions, moods, degrees, and differences, Your predicaments, substance, and accident, 25 Series extern and intern, with their causes, Efficient, material, formal, final, And ha’ your elements perfect?

_Kas._ What is this? The angry[1964] tongue he talks in?

_Sub._ That false precept, Of being aforehand, has deceiv’d a number, 30 And made ’em enter quarrels oftentimes Before they were aware; and afterward, Against their wills.

_Kas._ How must I do then, sir?

_Sub._ I cry this lady mercy; she should first Have been saluted. (Kisses her.) I do call you lady, 35 Because you are to be one ere ’t be long, My soft and buxom widow.

_Kas._ Is she, i’ faith?

_Sub._ Yes, or my art is an egregious liar.

_Kas._ How know you?

_Sub._ By inspection on her forehead, 39 And subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted Often to make a judgment. (_Kisses her again._) ’Slight, she melts Like a myrobolane.[1965] Here is yet a line, In _rivo frontis_,[1966] tells me he is no knight.

_Dame P._ What is he then, sir?

_Sub._ Let me see your hand. O, your _linea fortunae_ makes it plain; 45 And _stella_ here in _monte Veneris_. But, most of all, _junctura annularis_.[1967] He is a soldier, or a man of art, lady, But shall have some great honour shortly.

_Dame P._ Brother, He ’s a rare man, believe me!

[_Re-enter_ FACE, _in his uniform_.]

_Kas._ Hold your peace. 50 Here comes t’ other rare man.—’Save you, captain.

_Face._ Good Master Kastril! Is this your sister?

_Kas._ Ay, sir. Please you to kuss her, and be proud to know her.

_Face._ I shall be proud to know you, lady. [_Kisses her._]

_Dame P._ Brother, He calls me lady, too.

_Kas._ Ay, peace: I heard it. 65 [_Takes her aside._]

_Face._ The count is come.

_Sub._ Where is he?

_Face._ At the door.

_Sub._ Why, you must entertain him.

_Face._ What will you do With these the while?

_Sub._ Why, have ’em up, and show ’em Some fustian book, or the dark glass.

_Face._ ’Fore God, She is a delicate dabchick! I must have her. [_Exit._]

_Sub._ [_Aside._] Must you! Ay, if your fortune will, you must.— 61 Come, sir, the captain will come to us presently: I ’ll ha’ you to my chamber of demonstrations, Where I ’ll show you both the grammar and logic, And rhetoric of quarreling; my whole method Drawn out in tables; and my instrument, 66 That hath the several scales upon ’t shall make you Able to quarrel at a straw’s-breadth by moonlight. And, lady, I ’ll have you look in a glass, 69 Some half an hour, but to clear your eyesight, Against you see[1968] your fortune; which is greater Than I may judge upon the sudden, trust me. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE III.[1969]

[_Enter_] FACE.

_Face._ Where are you, doctor?

_Sub._ [_within._] I ’ll come to you presently.

_Face._ I will ha’ this same widow, now I ha’ seen her, On any composition.

[_Enter_ SUBTLE]

_Sub._ What do you say?

_Face._ Ha’ you dispos’d of them?

_Sub._ I ha’ sent ’em up.

_Face._ Subtle, in troth, I needs must have this widow. 5

_Sub._ Is that the matter?

_Face._ Nay, but hear me.

_Sub._ Go to. If you rebel once, Dol shall know it all: Therefore be quiet, and obey your chance.

_Face._ Nay, thou art so violent now. Do but conceive, Thou art old, and canst not serve——

_Sub._ Who cannot? I? 10 ’Slight, I will serve her with thee, for a——

_Face._ Nay, But understand: I’ll gi’ you composition.[1970]

_Sub._ I will not treat with thee. What! sell my fortune? ’T is better than my birthright. Do not murmur: Win her, and carry her. If you grumble, Dol 15 Knows it directly.

_Face._ Well, sir, I am silent. Will you go help to fetch in Don in state? [_Exit._]

_Sub._ I follow you, sir. We must keep Face in awe, Or he will overlook us like a tyrant. [_Re-enter_ FACE, _introducing_] SURLY _like a Spaniard._ Brain of a tailor! who comes here? Don John!

_Sur. Senores, beso las manos a vuestras mercedes_.[1971] 21

_Sub._ Would you had stoop’d a little, and kist our _anos_.

_Face._ Peace, Subtle!

_Sub._ Stab me; I shall never hold, man. He looks in that deep ruff like a head in a platter, Serv’d in by a short cloak upon two trestles. 25

_Face._ Or what do you say to a collar of brawn,[1972] cut down Beneath the souse,[1973] and wriggled with a knife?

_Sub._ ’Slud, he does look too fat to be a Spaniard.

_Face._ Perhaps some Fleming or some Hollander got him In d’Alva’s time; Count Egmont’s bastard.

_Sub._ Don, 30 Your scurvy, yellow, Madrid face is welcome.

_Sur. Gratia._

_Sub._ He speaks out of a fortification. Pray God he ha’ no squibs in those deep sets.[1974]

_Sur. Por dios, senores,[1975] muy linda casa!_

_Sub._ What says he?

_Face._ Praises the house, I think; 35 I know no more but ’s action.

_Sub._ Yes, the _casa_, My precious Diego, will prove fair enough To cozen you in. Do you mark? You shall Be cozened, Diego.[1976]

_Face._ Cozened, do you see, My worthy Donzel,[1977] cozened.

_Sur._ _Entiendo._[1978] 40

_Sub._ Do you intend it? So do we, dear Don. Have you brought pistolets[1979] or portagues, My solemn Don? [_To_ FACE.] Dost thou feel any?

_Face._ (_Feels his pockets._) Full.

_Sub._ You shall be emptied, Don, pumped and drawn Dry, as they say.

_Face._ Milked, in troth, sweet Don. 45

_Sub._ See all the monsters; the great lion of all, Don.

_Sur. Con licencia, se puede ver a esta senora?_[1980]

_Sub._ What talks he now?

_Face._ Of the senora.

_Sub._ O, Don, This is the lioness, which you shall see Also, my _Don_.

_Face._ ’Slid, Subtle, how shall we do? 50

_Sub._ For what?

_Face._ Why, Dol’s employ’d, you know.

_Sub._ That ’s true. ’Fore heav’n I know not: he must stay, that ’s all.

_Face._ Stay! that he must not by no means.

_Sub._ No! why?

_Face._ Unless you ’ll mar all. ’Slight, he ’ll suspect it; And then he will not pay, not half so well. 55 This is a travell’d punk-master, and does know All the delays; a notable hot rascal, And looks already rampant.

_Sub._ ’Sdeath, and Mammon Must not be troubled.

_Face._ Mammon! in no case.

_Sub._ What shall we do then?

_Face._ Think: you must be sudden.[1981] 60

_Sur. Entiendo que la senora es tan hermosa, que codicio tan a verla como la bien aventuranza de mi vida._[1982]

_Face. Mi vida!_ ’Slid, Subtle, he puts me in mind o’ the widow. What dost thou say to draw her to ’t, ha! 65 And tell her ’t is her fortune? All our venture Now lies upon ’t. It is but one man more, Which on’s chance to have her: and beside, There is no maidenhead to be fear’d or lost. What dost thou think on ’t, Subtle?

_Sub._ Who, I? why—— 70

_Face._ The credit of our house too is engag’d.[1983]

_Sub._ You made me an offer for my share ere-while. What wilt thou gi’ me, i’ faith?

_Face._ O, by that light I’ll not buy now. You know your doom[1984] to me. E’en take your lot, obey your chance, sir; win her, 75 And wear her—out for me.

_Sub._ ’Slight, I’ll not work her then.

_Face._ It is the common cause; therefore bethink you. Dol else must know it, as you said.

_Sub._ I care not.

_Sur. Senores, porque se tarda tanto?_[1985]

_Sub._ Faith, I am not fit. I am old.

_Face._ That’s now no reason, sir.

_Sur. Puede ser de hazer burla de mi amor?_“[1986] 81

_Face._ You hear the Don too? By this air I call, And loose the hinges. Dol!

_Sub._ A plague of hell——

_Face._ Will you then do?

_Sub._ You ’re a terrible rogue! I’ll think of this. Will you, sir, call the widow?

_Face._ Yes, and I’ll take her too with all her faults, 86 Now I do think on ’t better.

_Sub._ With all my heart, sir; Am I discharg’d o’ the lot?

_Face._ As you please.

_Sub._ Hands. [_They shake hands._]

_Face._ Remember now, that upon any change You never claim her.

_Sub._ Much good joy and health to you, sir, 90 Marry a whore! Fate, let me wed a witch first.

_Sur. Por estas honradas barbas_[1987]——

_Sub._ He swears by his beard. Dispatch, and call the brother too. [_Exit_ FACE.]

_Sur. Tengo duda, senores, que no me hagan alguna traycion._[1988] 95

_Sub._ How, issue on? Yes, _praesto, senor_. Please you _Enthratha_ the _chambratha_, worthy don: Where if you please the fates, in your _bathada_, You shall be soak’d, and strok’d, and tubb’d, and rubb’d, And scrubb’d, and fubb’d,[1989] dear don, before you go. 100 You shall in faith, my scurvy baboon don, Be curried, claw’d, and flaw’d,[1990] and taw’d,[1991] indeed. I will the heartlier go about it now, And make the widow a punk so much the sooner, To be reveng’d on this impetuous Face: 105 The quickly doing of it is the grace. [_Exeunt_ SUB. _and_ SURLY.]

SCENE IV.[1992]

[_Enter_] FACE, KASTRIL, _and_ Dame PLIANT.

[_Face._] Come, lady: I knew the doctor would not leave Till he had found the very nick of her fortune.

_Kas._ To be a conntess, say you?

[_Face._][1993] A Spanish countess, sir.

_Dame P._ Why, is that better than an English countess?

_Face._ Better! ’Slight, make you that a question, lady? 5

_Kas._ Nay, she is a fool, captain, you must pardon her.

_Face._ Ask from your courtier to your inns-of-court-man, To your mere milliner; they will tell you all, Your Spanish jennet is the best horse; your Spanish Stoop is the best garb;[1994] your Spanish beard 10 Is the best cut; your Spanish ruffs are the best Wear; your Spanish pavin the best dance; Your Spanish titillation in a glove The best perfume: and for your Spanish pike, And Spanish blade, let your poor captain speak.— Here comes the doctor.

[_Enter_ SUBTLE _with a paper._]

_Sub._ My most honour’d lady, For so I am now to style you, having found By this my scheme,[1995] you are to undergo An honourable fortune very shortly, 19 What will you say now, if some——

_Face._ I ha’ told her all, sir, And her right worshipful brother here, that she shall be A countess; do not delay ’em, sir; a Spanish countess.

_Sub._ Still, my scarce-worshipful captain, you can keep No secret! Well, since he has told you, madam, Do you forgive him, and I do.

_Kas._ She shall do that, sir; 25 I ’ll look to it; ’t is my charge.

_Sub._ Well then: nought rests But that she fit her love now to her fortune.

_Dame P._ Truly I shall never brook a Spaniard.

_Sub._ No?

_Dame P._ Never sin’ eighty-eight[1996] could I abide ’em, And that was some three years afore I was born, in truth. 30

_Sub._ Come, you must love him, or be miserable; Choose which you will.

_Face._ By this good rush, persuade her, She will cry[1997] strawberries else within this twelve month.

_Sub._ Nay, shads and mackerel, which is worse.

_Face._ Indeed, sir!

_Kas._ God’s lid, you shall love him, or I ’ll kick you.

_Dame P._ Why, 35 I ’ll do as you will ha’ me, brother.

_Kas._ Do, Or by this hand I ’ll maul you.

_Face._ Nay, good sir, Be not so fierce.

_Sub._ No, my enraged child; She will be rul’d. What, when she comes to taste The pleasures of a countess! to be courted—— 40

_Face._ And kiss’d and ruffled!

_Sub._ Ay, behind the hangings.

_Face._ And then come forth in pomp!

_Sub._ And know her state!

_Face._ Of keeping all th’ idolators o’ the chamber Barer to her, than at their prayers!

_Sub._ Is serv’d Upon the knee!

_Face._ And has her pages, ushers, 45 Footmen, and coaches——

_Sub._ Her six mares——

_Face._ Nay, eight!

_Sub._ To hurry her through London, to th’ Exchange.[1998] Bet’lem,[1999] the China-houses[2000]——

_Face._ Yes, and have The citizens gape at her, and praise her tires,[2001] And my lord’s goose-turd bands,[2002] that rides with her! 50

_Kas._ Most brave! By this hand, you are not my suster If you refuse.

_Dame P._ I will not refuse, brother.

[_Enter_ SURLY.]

_Sur. Que es esto, senores, que non se venga? Esta tardanza me mata!_[2003]

_Face._ It is the count come: The doctor knew he would be here, by his art.

_Sub. En gallanta, madama, Don! gallantissima!_ 56

_Sur. Por todos los dioses, la mas acabada Hermosura, que he visto en ma vida!_[2004]

_Face._ Is ’t not a gallant language that they speak?

_Kas._ An admirable language! Is ’t not French? 60

_Face._ No, Spanish, sir.

_Kas._ It goes like law French, And that, they say, is the court-liest language.

_Face._ List, sir.

_Sur. El sol ha perdido su lumbre, con el Resplandor que trae esta dana! Valga me dios!_[2005]

_Face._ H’ s your sister.

_Kas._ Must not she make curt’sy. 65

_Sub._ ’Ods will, she must go to him, man, and kiss him! It is the Spanish fashion, for the women To make first court.

_Face._ ’T is true he tells you, sir: His art knows all.

_Sur._ _Porque no se acude?_[2006]

_Kas._ He speaks to her, I think.

_Fact._ That he does, sir. 70

_Sur. Por el amor de dios, que es esto que se tarda?_[2007]

_Kas._ Nay, see: she will not understand him! Gull, Noddy.

_Dame P._ What say you, brother?

_Kas._ Ass, my suster, Go kuss him, as the cunning man would ha’ you; I ’ll thrust a pin i’ your buttocks else.

_Face._ O no, sir. 75

_Sur. Senora mia, mi persona muy indigna esta Allegar a tanta hermosura._[2008]

_Face._ Does he not use her bravely?

_Kas._ Bravely, i’ faith!

_Face._ Nay, he will use her better.

_Kas._ Do you think so?

_Sur. Senora, si sera servida, entremos._[2009] 80 [_Exit with_ Dame PLIANT.]

_Kas._ Where does he carry her?

_Face._ Into the garden, sir; Take you no thought: I must interpret for her.

_Sub._ Give Dol the word. [_Aside to_ FACE, _who goes out_.] —Come, my fierce child, advance, We’ll to our quarreling lesson again.

_Kas._ Agreed. I love a Spanish boy with all my heart. 85

_Sub._ Nay, and by this means, sir, you shall be brother To a great count.

_Kas._ Ay, I knew that at first. This match will advance the house of the Kastrils.

_Sub._ ’Pray God your sister prove but pliant!

_Kas._ Why, Her name is so, by her other husband.

_Sub._ How! 90

_Kas._ The Widow Pliant. Knew you not that?

_Sub._ No, faith, sir; Yet, by the erection of her figure,[2010] I guess’d it. Come, let ’s go practise.

_Kas._ Yes, but do you think, doctor, I e’er shall quarrel well?

_Sub._ I warrant you. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE V.[2011]

[_Enter_] DOL [_followed by_] MAMMON.

DOL (_in her fit of talking_). _For after Alexander’s death_——[2012]

_Mam._ Good lady——

_Dol. That Perdiccas and Antigonus were slain, The two that stood, Seleuc’ and Ptolomy_——

_Mam._ Madam—

_Dol. Make up the two legs, and the fourth beast, That was Gog-north and Egypt-south: which after 5 Was called Gog-iron-leg and South-iron-leg_——

_Mam._ Lady——

_Dol. And then Gog-horned. So was Egypt, too: Then Egypt-clay-leg, and Gog-clay-leg_——

_Mam._ Sweet madam——

_Dol. And last Gog-dust, and Egypt-dust, which fall In the last link of the fourth chain. And these_ 10 _Be stars in story, which none see, or look at_——

_Mam._ What shall I do?

_Dol._ _For_, as he says, _except We call the rabbins, and the heathen Greeks_——

_Mam._ Dear lady——

_Dol._ _To come from Salem, and from Athens, And teach the people of Great Britain_——

[_Enter_ FACE _hastily, in his servant’s dress_.]

_Face._ What’s the matter, sir? 15

_Dol. To speak the tongue of Eber and Javan_——

_Mam._ O, She’s in her fit.

_Dol._ _We shall know nothing_——

_Face._ Death, sir. We are undone!

_Dol._ _Where then a learned linguist Shall see the ancient us’d communion Of vowels and consonants_——

_Face._ My master will hear! 20

_Dol. A wisdom, which Pythagoras held most high_——

_Mam._ Sweet honourable lady!

_Dol._ _To comprise All sounds of voices, in few marks of letters._

_Face._ Nay, you must never hope to lay her now. (_They all speak together._)

_Dol. And so we may arrive by Talmud skill,[2013] And profane Greek, to raise the building up 26 Of Helen’s house against the Ismaelite, King of Thogarma, and his habergions Brimstony, blue, and fiery; and the force Of king Abaddon, and the beast of Cittim: 30 Which rabbi David Kimchi, Onkelos, And Aben Ezra do interpret Rome._

_Face._ How did you put her into’t?

_Mam._ Alas, I talkt Of a fifth monarchy I would erect 34 With the philosopher’s stone, by chance, and she Falls on the other four straight.

_Face._ Out of Broughton! I told you so. ’Slid, stop her mouth.

_Mam._ Is’t best?

_Face._ She’ll never leave else. If the old man hear her, We are but faeces, ashes.

_Sub._ [_within._] What’s to do there?

_Face._ O, we are lost! Now she hears him, she is quiet. 40

[_Enter_ SUBTLE;] _upon_ SUBTLE’s _entry they disperse_.

_Mam._ Where shall I hide me!

_Sub._ How! What sight is here? Close[2014] deeds of darkness, and that shun the light! Bring him again. Who is he? What, my son! O, I have liv’d too long.

_Mam._ Nay, good, dear father, There was no unchaste purpose.

_Sub._ Not? and flee me 45 When I come in?

_Mam._ That was my error.

_Sub._ Error? Guilt, guilt, my son; give it the right name. No marvel If I found check in our great work within, When such affairs as these were managing! 49

_Mam._ Why, have you so?

_Sub._ It has stood still this half hour: And all the rest of our less works gone back. Where is the instrument of wickedness, My lewd false drudge?

_Mam._ Nay, good sir, blame not him; Believe me, ’t was against his will or knowledge: 54 I saw her by chance.

_Sub._ Will you commit more sin, T’excuse a varlet?

_Mam._ By my hope, ’t is true, sir.

_Sub._ Nay, then I wonder less, if you, for whom The blessing was prepar’d, would so tempt heaven, And lose your fortunes.

_Mam._ Why, sir?

_Sub._ This will retard The work a month at least.

_Mam._ Why, if it do, 60 What remedy? But think it not, good father: Our purposes were honest.[2015]

_Sub._ As they were, So the reward will prove. (_A great crack and noise within_.)—How now! ay me! God and all saints be good to us.—— [_Re-enter_ FACE.] What ’s that? 64

_Face._ O, sir, we are defeated! All the works Are flown _in fumo_,[2016] every glass is burst; Furnace and all rent down, as if a bolt Of thunder had been driven through the house. Retorts, receivers, pelicans,[2017] bolt heads,[2018] 69 All struck in shivers! (SUBTLE _falls down as in a swoon_.) Help, good sir! alas, Coldness and death invades him. Nay, Sir Mammon, Do the fair offices of a man! You stand, As you were readier to depart than he. (_One knocks_.) Who’s there? My lord her brother is come.

_Mam._ Ha, Lungs!

_Face._ His coach is at the door. Avoid his sight, 75 For he ’s as furious as his sister ’s mad.

_Mam._ Alas!

_Face._ My brain is quite undone with the fume, sir, I ne’er must hope to be mine own man again.

_Mam._ Is all lost, Lungs? Will nothing be preserv’d Of all our cost?

_Face._ Faith, very little, sir; 80 A peck of coals or so, which is cold comfort, sir.

_Mam._ O, my voluptuous mind! I am justly punish’d.

_Face._ And so am I, sir.

_Mam._ Cast from all my hopes——

_Face._ Nay, certainties, sir.

_Mam._ By mine own base affections.

_Sub._ (_seeming to come to himself._) O, the curst fruits of vice and lust!

_Mam._ Good father, 85 It was my sin. Forgive it.

_Sub._ Hangs my roof Over us still, and will not fall, O justice, Upon us, for this wicked man!

_Face._ Nay, look, sir, You grieve him now with staying in his sight. Good sir, the nobleman will come too, and take you, 90 And that may breed a tragedy.

_Mam._ I’ll go.

_Face._ Ay, and repent at home, sir. It may be, For some good penance you may ha’ it yet; A hundred pound to the box at Bet’lem[2019]——

_Mam._ Yes.

_Face._ For the restoring such as—ha’ their wits.

_Mam._ I’ll do ’t. 95

_Face._ I’ll send one to you to receive it.

_Mam._ Do. Is no projection left?

_Face._ All flown, or stinks, sir.

_Mam._ Will nought be sav’d that’s good for med’cine, think’st thou?

_Face._ I cannot tell, sir. There will be perhaps Something about the scraping of the shards, 100 Will cure the itch,—though not your itch of mind, sir. [_Aside._] It shall be sav’d for you, and sent home. Good sir, This way, for fear the lord shall meet you. [_Exit_ MAMMON.]

_Sub._ [_raising his head_.] Face!

_Face._ Ay.

_Sub._ Is he gone?

_Face._ Yes, and as heavily As all the gold he hop’d for were in’s blood. 105 Let us be light though.

_Sub._ [_leaping up_.] Ay, as balls, and bound And hit our heads against the roof for joy; There ’s so much of our care now cast away.

_Face._ Now to our don.

_Sub._ Yes, your young widow by this time Is made a countess, Face; she’s been in travail 100 Of a young heir for you.

_Face._ Good, sir.

_Sub._ Off with your case,[2020] And greet her kindly, as a bridegroom should, After these common hazards.

_Face._ Very well, sir. Will you go fetch Don Diego off the while?

_Sub._ And fetch him over too, if you’ll be pleas’d, sir. 115 Would Dol were in her place, to pick his pockets now!

_Face._ Why, you can do’t as well, if you would set to’t. I pray you prove your virtue.[2021]

_Sub._ For your sake, sir. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE VI.[2022]

[_Enter_] SURLY _and_ Dame PLIANT.

_Sur._ Lady, you see into what hands you are fall’n; ’Mongst what a nest of villains! and how near Your honour was t’ have catch’d a certain clap, Through your credulity, had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, 5 And other circumstance would ha’ made a man; For you’re a handsome woman: would you were wise too! I am a gentleman come here disguis’d, Only to find the knaveries of this citadel; And where I might have wrong’d your honour, and have not, 10 I claim some interest in your love. You are, They say, a widow, rich; and I’m a bachelor. Worth nought: your fortunes may make me a man, As mine ha’ preserv’d you a woman. Think upon it, And whether I have deserv’d you or no.

_Dame P._ I will, sir. 15

_Sur._ And for these household-rogues, let me alone To treat with them.

[_Enter_ SUBTLE.]

_Sub._ How doth my noble Diego, And my dear madam countess? Hath the count Been courteous, lady? liberal and open? Donzel,[2023] methinks you look melancholic, 20 I do not like the dulness of your eye; It hath a heavy cast, ’t is upsee Dutch,[2024] And says you are a lumpish whore-master. Be lighter, I will make your pockets so. (_He falls to picking of them_.)

_Sur._ [_throws open his cloak_.] Will you, don bawd and pick-purse? [_Strikes him down_.] How now! Reel you? 25 Stand up, sir, you shall find, since I am so heavy, I’ll gi’ you equal weight.

_Sub._ Help! murder!

_Sur._ No, sir, There ’s no such thing intended. A good cart[2025] And a clean whip shall ease you of that fear. I am the Spanish don that should be cozened, 30 Do you see? Cozened? Where’s your Captain Face, That parcel[2026]-broker, and whole-bawd, all rascal?

[_Enter_ FACE _in his uniform_.]

_Face._ How, Surly!

_Sur._ O, make your approach, good captain. I’ve found from whence your copper rings and spoons Come now, wherewith, you cheat abroad in taverns. 35 ’T was here you learn’d t’anoint your boot with brimstone, Then rub men’s gold on’t for a kind of touch, And say, ’t was naught, when you had chang’d the colour, That you might ha’t for nothing. And this doctor, Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he 40 Will close you so much gold, in a bolt’s-head, And, on a turn, convey i’ the stead another With sublim’d mercury, that shall burst i’ the heat, And fly out all _in fumo_! Then weeps Mammon; Then swoons his worship. Or, [FACE _slips out_.] he is the Faustus, 45 That casteth figures[2027] and can conjure, cures Plagues, piles, and pox, by the ephemerides.[2028] And holds intelligence with all the bawds And midwives of three shires: while you send in—— Captain!—what! is he gone?—damsels with child, 50 Wives that are barren, or the waiting-maid With the green sickness. [_Seizes_ SUBTLE _as he is retiring_.] —Nay, sir, you must tarry, Though he be scap’d; and answer by the ears, sir.

SCENE VII.[2029]

[_Re-enter_] FACE [_with_] KASTRIL [_to_] SURLY [_and_] SUBTLE.

_Face._ Why, now’s the time, if ever you will quarrel Well, as they say, and be a true-born child: The doctor and your sister both are abus’d.[2030]

_Kas._ Where is he? Which is he? He is a slave, Whate’er he is, and the son of a whore.—Are you 5 The man, sir, I would know?

_Sur._ I should be loth, sir. To confess so much.

_Kas._ Then you lie i’ your throat.

_Sur._ How!

_Face._ [_To_ KASTRIL.] A very arrant rogue, sir, and a cheater, Employ’d here by another conjurer That does not love the doctor, and would cross him 10 If he knew how.

_Sur._ Sir, you are abus’d.

_Kas._ You lie; And ’t is no matter.

_Face._ Well said, sir! He is The impudent’st rascal——

_Sur._ You are indeed. Will you hear me, sir?

_Face._ By no means: bid him be gone.

_Kas._ Begone, sir, quickly.

_Sur._ This is strange!—Lady, do you inform your brother. 15

_Face._ There is not such a foist[2031] in all the town. The doctor had him presently; and finds yet The Spanish count will come here.—Bear up, Subtle. [_Aside._]

_Sub._ Yes, sir, he must appear within this hour.

_Face._ And yet this rogue would come in a disguise, 20 By the temptation of another spirit, To trouble our art, though he could not hurt it!

_Kas._ Ay, I know—Away, [_To his sister_.] you talk like a foolish mauther.[2032]

_Sur._ Sir, all is truth she says.

_Face._ Do not believe him, sir. 24 He is the lying’st swabber! Come your ways, sir.

_Sur._ You are valiant out of company!

_Kas._ Yes, how then, sir?

[_Enter_ DRUGGER _with a piece of damask_.]

_Face._ Nay, here’s an honest fellow too that knows him, And all his tricks. (Make good what I say, Abel.) This cheater would ha’ cozen’d thee o’ the widow.— [_Aside to_ DRUG.] He owes this honest Drugger here seven pound, He has had on him in twopenny’orths of tobacco. 31

_Drug._ Yes, sir. And he has damn’d himself three terms to pay me.

_Face._ And what does he owe for lotium?[2033]

_Drug._ Thirty shillings, sir; And for six syringes.

_Sur._ Hydra of villainy!

_Face._ Nay, sir, you must quarrel him out o’the house.

_Kas._ I will; 35 —Sir, if you get not out o’ doors, you lie; And you are a pimp.

_Sur._ Why, this is madness, sir, Not valour in you; I must laugh at this.

_Kas._ It is my humour; you are a pimp and a trig.[2034] And an Amadis de Gaul, or a Don Quixote. 40

_Drug._ Or a knight o’ the curious coxcomb, do you see?

[_Enter_ ANANIAS.]

_Ana._ Peace to the household!

_Kas._ I’ll keep peace for no man.

_Ana._ Casting of dollars is concluded lawful.

_Kas._ Is he the constable?

_Sub._ Peace, Ananias.

_Face._ No, sir.

_Kas._ Then you are an otter, and a shad, a whit, 45 A very tim.[2035]

_Sur._ You’ll hear me, sir?

_Kas._ I will not.

_Ana._ What is the motive?

_Sub._ Zeal in the young gentleman, Against his Spanish slops.

_Ana._ They are profane, Lewd, superstitious, and idolatrous breeches.

_Sur._ New rascals!

_Kas._ Will you be gone, sir?

_Ana._ Avoid, Sathan! 50 Thou art not of the light! That ruff of pride About thy neck, betrays thee; and is the same With that which the unclean birds, in seventy-seven,[2036] Were seen to prank it with on divers coasts: Thou look’st like antichrist, in that lewd hat. 55

_Sur._ I must give way.

_Kas._ Be gone, sir.

_Sur._ But I’ll take A course with you.——

_Ana._ Depart, proud Spanish fiend!

_Sur._ Captain and doctor.

_Ana._ Child of perdition!

_Kas._ Hence, sir!—[_Exit_ SURLY.] Did I not quarrel bravely?

_Face._ Yes, indeed, sir.

_Kas._ Nay, an I give my mind to’t, I shall do’t. 60

_Face._ O, you must follow, sir, and threaten him tame: He’ll turn again else.

_Kas._ I’ll re-turn him then. [_Exit._]

_Face._ Drugger, this rogue prevented us, for thee: We had determin’d that thou should’st ha’ come In a Spanish suit, and ha’ carried her so; and he, 65 A brokerly slave, goes, puts it on himself. Hast brought the damask?

_Drug._ Yes, sir.

_Face._ Thou must borrow A Spanish suit. Hast thou no credit with the players?

_Drug._ Yes, sir; did you never see me play the Fool?

_Face._ I know not, Nab;—thou shalt, if I can help it.—[_Aside._] 70 Hieronimo’s[2037] old cloak, ruff, and hat will serve; I’ll tell thee more when thou bring’st ’em. [_Exit_ DRUGGER.] SUBTLE _hath whisper’d with_ ANAN. _this while_.

_Ana._ Sir, I know. The Spaniard hates the brethren, and hath spies Upon their actions: and that this was one I make no scruple.—But the holy synod 75 Have been in prayer and meditation for it; And ’t is reveal’d no less to them than me, That casting of money is most lawful.

_Sub._ True. But here I cannot do it: if the house Should chance to be suspected, all would out, 80 And we be lock’d up in the Tower for ever, To make gold there for th’ state, never come out; And then are you defeated.

_Ana._ I will tell This to the elders and the weaker brethren, That the whole company of the separation 85 May join in humble prayer again.

_Sub._ And fasting.

_Ana._ Yea, for some fitter place. The peace of mind Rest with these walls! [_Exit._]

_Sub._ Thanks, courteous Ananias.

_Face._ What did he come for?

_Sub._ About casting dollars, Presently out of hand. And so I told him, 90 A Spanish minister came here to spy, Against the faithful——-

_Face._ I conceive. Come, Subtle, Thou art so down upon the least disaster! How wouldst thou ha’ done, if I had not helpt thee out?

_Sub._ I thank thee, Face, for the angry boy, i’ faith. 95

_Face._ Who would ha’ lookt[2038] it should ha’ been that rascal Surly? He had dy’d his beard and all. Well, sir. Here ’s damask come to make you a suit.

_Sub._ Where ’s Drugger?

_Face._ He is gone to borrow me a Spanish habit; 99 I ’ll be the count now.

_Sub._ But where ’s the widow?

_Face._ Within, with my lord’s sister; Madam Dol Is entertaining her.

_Sub._ By your favour, Face, Now she is honest, I will stand again.

_Face._ You will not offer it?

_Sub._ Why?

_Face._ Stand to your word, Or—here comes Dol. She knows——

_Sub._ You ’re tyrannous still. 105

[_Enter_ DOL _hastily_.]

_Face._—Strict for my right.—How now, Dol! Hast told her, The Spanish count will come?

_Dol._ Yes; but another is come, You little lookt for!

_Face._ Who ’s that?

_Dol._ Your master; The master of the house.

_Sub._ How, Dol!

_Face._ She lies, This is some trick. Come, leave your quiblins,[2039] Dorothy. 110

_Dol._ Look out and see. [FACE _goes to the window_.]

_Sub._ Art thou in earnest?

_Dol._ ’Slight, Forty o’ the neighbours are about him, talking.

_Face._ ’T is he, by this good day.

_Dol._ ’T will prove ill day For some on us.

_Face._ We are undone, and taken.

_Dol._ Lost, I’m afraid.

_Sub._ You said he would not come, 115 While there died one a week within the liberties.[2040]

_Face._ No: ’t was within the walls.

_Sub._ Was ’t so? Cry you mercy. I thought the liberties. What shall we do now, Face?

_Face._ Be silent: not a word, if he call or knock. 119 I ’ll into mine old shape again and meet him, Of Jeremy, the butler. I’ the meantime, Do you two pack up all the goods and purchase[2041] That we can carry i’ the two trunks. I ’ll keep him Off for to-day, if I cannot longer: and then 124 At night, I ’ll ship you both away to Ratcliff, Where we will meet to-morrow, and there we ’ll share. Let Mammon’s brass and pewter keep the cellar; We ’ll have another time for that. But, Dol, Prithee go heat a little water quickly; 129 Subtle must shave me. All my captain’s beard Must off, to make me appear smooth Jeremy. You ’ll do it?

_Sub._ Yes, I ’ll shave you as well as I can.

_Face._ And not cut my throat, but trim me?

_Sub._ You shall see, sir. [_Exeunt._]

ACT V

SCENE I.[2042]

[_Enter_] LOVEWIT, [_with several of the_] Neighbours.

_Love._ Has there been such resort, say you?

_1 Nei._ Daily, Sir.

_2 Nei._ And nightly, too.

_3 Nei._ Ay, some as brave as lords.

_4 Nei._ Ladies and gentlewomen.

_5 Nei._ Citizens’ wives.

_1 Nei._ And knights.

_6 Nei._ In coaches.

_2 Nei._ Yes, and oyster-women.

_1 Nei._ Beside other gallants.

_3 Nei._ Sailors’ wives.

_4 Nei._ Tobacco men. 5

_5 Nei._ Another Pimlico.[2043]

_Love._ What should my knave advance, To draw this company? He hung out no banners Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen, Or a huge lobster with six claws?

_6 Nei._ No, sir.

_3 Nei._ We had gone in then, sir.

_Love._ He has no gift 10 Of teaching i’ the nose[2044] that e’er I knew of. You saw no bills set up that promis’d cure Of agues or the tooth-ache?

_2 Nei._ No such thing, sir!

_Love._ Nor heard a drum struck for baboons or puppets?

_5 Nei._ Neither, sir.

_Love._ What device should he bring forth now? 15 I love a teeming wit as I love my nourishment: ’Pray God he ha’ not kept such open house, That he hath sold my hangings, and my bedding! I left him nothing else. If he have eat ’em, 19 A plague o’ the moth, say I! Sure he has got Some bawdy pictures to call all this ging;[2045] The Friar and the Nun; or the new motion[2046] Of the knight’s courser covering the parson’s mare; The boy of six year old, with the great thing: 24 Or ’t may be, he has the fleas that run at tilt Upon a table, or some dog to dance. When saw you him?

_1 Nei._ Who, sir, Jeremy?

_2 Nei._ Jeremy butler? We saw him not this month.

_Love._ How!

_4 Nei._ Not these five weeks, sir.

_[6] Nei._ These six weeks, at the least.

_Love._ You amaze me, neighbours!

_5 Nei._ Sure, if your worship know not where he is, 30 He’s slipt away.

_6 Nei._ Pray God he be not made away. _He knocks._

_Love._ Ha! it’s no time to question, then.

_6 Nei._ About Some three weeks since I heard a doleful cry, As I sat up a-mending my wife’s stockings.

_Love._ This ’s strange that none will answer! Did’st thou hear 35 A cry, sayst thou?

_6 Nei._ Yes, sir, like unto a man That had been strangled an hour, and could not speak.

_2 Nei._ I heard it, too, just this day three weeks, at two o’clock Next morning.

_Love._ These be miracles, or you make ’em so! A man an hour strangled, and could not speak, And both you heard him cry?

_3 Nei._ Yes, downward, sir. 41

_Love._ Thou art a wise fellow. Give me thy hand, I pray thee. What trade art thou on?

_3 Nei._ A smith, an ’t please your worship.

_Love._ A smith! Then lend me thy help to get this door open.

_3 Nei._ That I will presently, sir, but fetch my tools—[_Exit._] 45

_1 Nei._ Sir, best to knock again afore you break it.

SCENE II.[2047]

LOVEWIT, Neighbours.

[_LOVE._ _Knocks again._] I will.

[_Enter_ FACE _in his butler’s livery_.]

_Face._ What mean you, sir?

_1, 2, 4 Nei._ O, here’s Jeremy!

_Face._ Good sir, come from the door.

_Love._ Why, what is the matter?

_Face._ Yet farther, you are too near yet.

_Love._ I’ the name of wonder, What means the fellow!

_Face._ The house, sir, has been visited.

_Love._ What, with the plague? Stand thou then farther.

_Face._ No, sir, I had it not.

_Love._ Who had it then? I left None else but thee ’i the house.

_Face._ Yes, sir, my fellow, The cat that kept the buttery, had it on her A week before I spied it; but I got her Convey’d away i’ the night: and so I shut 10 The house for a month——

_Love._ How!

_Face._ Purposing then, sir, To have burnt rose-vinegar, treacle, and tar, And ha’ made it sweet, that you should ne’er ha’ known it; Because I knew the news would but afflict you, sir.

_Love._ Breathe less, and farther off! Why this is stranger; 15 The neighbours tell me all here that the doors Have still been open——

_Face._ How, sir!

_Love._ Gallants, men and women, And of all sorts, tag-rag, been seen to flock here In threaves,[2048] these ten weeks, as to a second Hogsden, In days of Pimlico and Eye-bright.[2049]

_Face._ Sir, 20 Their wisdoms will not say so.

_Love._ To-day they speak Of coaches and gallants; one in a French hood Went in, they tell me; and another was seen In a velvet gown at the window: divers more Pass in and out.

_Face._ They did pass through the doors then, Or walls, I assure their eye-sights, and their spectacles; 26 For here, sir, are the keys, and here have been, In this my pocket, now above twenty days! And for before, I kept the fort alone there. But that ’t is yet not deep i’ the afternoon, 30 I should believe my neighbours had seen double Through the black pot,[2050] and made these apparitions! For, on my faith to your worship, for these three weeks And upwards, the door has not been open’d.

_Love._ Strange!

_1 Nei._ Good faith, I think I saw a coach.

_2 Nei._ And I too, 35 I’d ha’ been sworn.

_Love._ Do you but think it now? And but one coach?

_4 Nei._ We cannot tell, sir: Jeremy Is a very honest fellow.

_Face._ Did you see me at all?

_1 Nei._ No; that we are sure on.

_2 Nei._ I ’ll be sworn o’ that.

_Love._ Fine rogues to have your testimonies built on! 40

[_Re-enter third_ Neighbour, _with his tools_.]

_3 Nei._ Is Jeremy come!

_1 Nei._ O yes; you may leave your tools; We were deceiv’d, he says.

_2 Nei._ He ’s had the keys; And the door has been shut these three weeks.

_3 Nei._ Like enough.

_Love._ Peace, and get hence, you changelings.

[_Enter_ SURLY _and_ MAMMON.]

_Face._ [_Aside._] Surly come, And Mammon made acquainted! They ’ll tell all. 45 How shall I beat them off? What shall I do? Nothing ’s more wretched than a guilty conscience.

SCENE III.[2051]

SURLY, MAMMON, LOVEWIT, FACE, Neighbours.

_Sur._ No, sir, he was a great physician. This, It was no bawdy-house, but a mere chancel! You knew the lord and his sister.

_Mam._ Nay, good Surly.——

_Sur._ The happy word, BE RICH——

_Mam._ Play not the tyrant.—

_Sur._ Should be to-day pronounc’d to all your friends. 5 And where be your andirons now? And your brass pots, That should ha’ been golden flagons, and great wedges?

_Mam._ Let me but breathe. What, they ha’ shut their doors, Methinks! _He and_ SURLY _knock_.

_Sur._ Ay, now ’tis holiday with them.

_Mam._ Rogues, Cozeners, impostors, bawds!

_Face._ What mean you, sir? 10

_Mam._ To enter if we can.

_Face._ Another man’s house! Here is the owner, sir; turn you to him, And speak your business.

_Mam._ Are you, sir, the owner?

_Love._ Yes, sir.

_Mam._ And are those knaves within, your cheaters!

_Love._ What knaves, what cheaters?

_Mam._ Subtle and his Lungs. 15

_Face._ The gentleman is distracted, sir! No lungs Nor lights ha’ been seen here these three weeks, sir, Within these doors upon my word.

_Sur._ Your word, Groom arrogant!

_Face._ Yes, sir, I am the housekeeper, And know the keys ha’ not been out o’ my hands. 20

_Sur._ This ’s a new Face.

_Face._ You do mistake the house, sir; What sign was ’t at?

_Sur._ You rascal! This is one Of the confederacy. Come, let ’s get officers, And force the door.

_Love._ Pray you stay, gentlemen.

_Sur._ No, sir, we ’ll come with warrant.

_Mam._ Ay, and then 25 We shall ha’ your doors open. [_Exeunt_ MAM. _and_ SUR.]

_Love._ What means this?

_Face._ I cannot tell, sir.

_1 Nei._ These are two o’ the gallants That we do think we saw.

_Face._ Two o’ the fools! You talk as idly as they. Good faith, sir, I think the moon has craz’d ’em all.—[_Aside._] O me, 30 [_Enter_ KASTRIL.] The angry boy come too! He ’ll make a noise, And ne’er away till he have betray’d us all.

_Kas._ (_knocking._) What, rogues, bawds, slaves, you ’ll open the door anon! Punk, cockatrice, my suster! By this light 34 I’ll fetch the marshal to you. You are a whore To keep your castle——

_Face._ Who would you speak with, sir?

_Kas._ The bawdy doctor, and the cozening captain, And puss my suster.

_Love._ This is something, sure.

_Face._ Upon my trust, the doors were never open, sir.

_Kas._ I have heard all their tricks told me twice over, 40 By the fat knight and the lean gentleman.

_Love._ Here comes another.

[_Enter_ ANANIAS _and_ TRIBULATION.]

_Face._ Ananias too! And his pastor!

_Tri._ The doors are shut against us. _They beat too, at the door._

_Ana._ Come forth, you seed of sulphur, sons of fire! Your stench it is broke forth; abomination 45 Is in the house.

_Kas._ Ay, my suster ’s there.

_Ana._ The place, It is become a cage of unclean birds.

_Kas._ Yes, I will fetch the scavenger, and the constable.

_Tri._ You shall do well.

_Ana._ We ’ll join to weed them out.

_Kas._ You will not come then, punk devise,[2052] my suster! 50

_Ana._ Call her not sister; she ’s a harlot verily.

_Kas._ I ’ll raise the street.

_Love._ Good gentleman, a word.

_Ana._ Satan avoid, and hinder not our zeal! [_Exeunt_ ANA., TRIB., _and_ KAST.]

_Love._ The world ’s turn’d Bet’lem.

_Face._ These are all broke loose, Out of St. Katherine’s, where they use to keep The better sort of mad-folks.

_1 Nei._ All these persons 55 We saw go in and out here.

_2 Nei._ Yes, indeed, sir.

_3 Nei._ These were the parties.

_Face._ Peace, you drunkards! Sir, I wonder at it. Please you to give me leave To touch the door; I ’ll try an the lock be chang’d. 60

_Love._ It mazes me!

_Face._ [_goes to the door._] Good faith, sir, I believe There ’s no such thing: ’t is all _deceptio visus_.[2053]— [_Aside._] Would I could get him away.

_Dap._ [_within._] Master captain! Master doctor!

_Love._ Who ’s that?

_Face._ [_Aside._] Our clerk within, that I forgot!—I—I know not, sir. 65

_Dap._ [_within._] For God’s sake, when will her grace be at leisure?

_Face._ Ha! Illusions, some spirit o’ the air!—[_Aside._] His gag is melted, And now he sets out the throat.

_Dap._ [_within._] I am almost stifled——

_Face._ [_Aside._] Would you were together.

_Love._ ’T is i’ the house. Ha! list.

_Face._ Believe it, sir, i’ the air.

_Love._ Peace, you. 70

_Dap._ [_within._] Mine aunt’s grace does not use me well.

_Sub._ [_within._] You fool, Peace, you ’ll mar all.

_Face._ [_speaks through the keyhole, while_ LOVEWIT _advances to the door unobserved_.] Or you will else, you rogue.

_Love._ O, is it so? Then you converse with spirits!— Come, sir. No more o’ your tricks, good Jeremy. The truth, the shortest way.

_Face._ Dismiss this rabble, sir.— 75 [_Aside._] What shall I do? I am catch’d.

_Love._ Good neighbours, I thank you all. You may depart. [_Exeunt_ Neighbours.]—Come, sir, You know that I am an indulgent master; And therefore conceal nothing. What ’s your medicine, To draw so many several sorts of wild fowl? 80

_Face._ Sir, you were wont to affect mirth and wit— But here ’s no place to talk on ’t i’ the street. Give me but leave to make the best of my fortune, And only pardon me th’ abuse of your house: It ’s all I beg. I ’ll help you to a widow, 85 In recompense, that you shall gi’ me thanks for, Will make you seven years younger, and a rich one. ’T is but your putting on a Spanish cloak: I have her within. You need not fear the house; It was not visited.

_Love._ But by me, who came 90 Sooner than you expected.

_Face._ It is true, sir. ’Pray you forgive me.

_Love._ Well; let ’s see your widow. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE IV.[2054]

[_Enter_] SUBTLE [_leading in_] DAPPER, [_with his eyes bound as before_].

_Sub._ How! ha’ you eaten your gag?

_Dap._ Yes, faith, it crumbled Away i’ my mouth.

_Sub._ You ha’ spoil’d all then.

_Dap._ No! I hope my aunt of Fairy will forgive me.

_Sub._ Your aunt ’s a gracious lady; but in troth You were to blame.

_Dap._ The fume did overcome me, 5 And I did do ’t to stay my stomach. ’Pray you So satisfy her grace. [_Enter_ FACE _in his uniform_.] Here comes the captain.

_Face._ How now! Is his mouth down?

_Sub._ Ay, he has spoken!

_Face._ A pox, I heard him, and you too. He’s undone then.— [_Aside to_ SUBTLE.] I have been fain to say, the house is haunted 10 With spirits, to keep churl back.

_Sub._ And hast thou done it?

_Face._ Sure, for this night.

_Sub._ Why, then triumph and sing Of Face so famous, the precious king Of present wits.

_Face._ Did you not hear the coil 14 About the door?

_Sub._ Yes, and I dwindled[2055] with it.

_Face._ Show him his aunt, and let him be dispatch’d; I ’ll send her to you. [_Exit_ FACE.]

_Sub._ Well, sir, your aunt her grace Will give you audience presently, on my suit, And the captain’s word that you did not eat your gag In any contempt of her highness. [_Unbinds his eyes._]

_Dap._ Not I, in troth, sir. 20

[_Enter_] DOL _like the Queen of Fairy_.

_Sub._ Here she is come. Down o’ your knees and wriggle: She has a stately presence. [DAPPER _kneels and shuffles towards her_.] Good! Yet nearer, And bid, God save you!

_Dap._ Madam!

_Sub._ And your aunt.

_Dap._ And my most gracious aunt, God save your grace.

_Dol._ Nephew, we thought to have been angry with you; 25 But that sweet face of yours hath turn’d the tide, And made it flow with joy, that ebb’d of love. Arise, and touch our velvet gown.

_Sub._ The skirts, And kiss ’em. So!

_Dol._ Let me now stroke that head. _Much, nephew, shalt thou win, much shalt thou spend; 30 Much shalt thou give away, much shalt thou lend._

_Sub._ [_Aside._] Ay, much! indeed.—Why do you not thank her grace?

_Dap._ I cannot speak for joy.

_Sub._ See, the kind wretch! Your grace’s kinsman right.

_Dol._ Give me the bird.—— Here is your fly in a purse, about your neck, cousin; 35 Wear it, and feed it about this day sev’n-night, On your right wrist——

_Sub._ Open a vein with a pin And let it suck but once a week; till then, You must not look on ’t.

_Dol._ No; and, kinsman, Bear yourself worthy of the blood you came on.

_Sub._ Her grace would ha’ you eat no more Woolsack[2056] pies, 41 Nor Dagger[2056] frumety.[2057]

_Dol._ Nor break his fast In Heaven[2056] and Hell.[2056]

_Sub._ She ’s with you everywhere! Nor play with costermongers, at mumchance,[2058] traytrip,[2058] God-make-you-rich[2058] (when as your aunt has done it); but keep 45 The gallant’st company, and the best games——

_Dap._ Yes, sir.

_Sub._ Gleek[2058] and primero,[2058] and what you get, be true to us.

_Dap._ By this hand, I will.

_Sub._ You may bring ’s a thousand pound Before to-morrow night, if but three thousand Be stirring, an you will.

_Dap._ I swear I will then. 50

_Sub._ Your fly will learn you all games.

_Face._ [_within._] Ha’ you done there?

_Sub._ Your grace will command him no more duties?

_Dol._ No; But come and see me often. I may chance To leave him three or four hundred chests of treasure, 54 And some twelve thousand acres of fairy land, If he game well and comely with good gamesters.

_Sub._ There ’s a kind aunt: kiss her departing part.— But you must sell your forty mark a year now.

_Dap._ Ay, sir, I mean.

_Sub._ Or, give ’t away; pox on ’t!

_Dap._ I ’ll gi’ ’t mine aunt. I ’ll go and fetch the writings. [_Exit._] 60

_Sub._ ’T is well; away.

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ Where ’s Subtle?

_Sub._ Here; what news?

_Face._ Drugger is at the door; go take his suit, And bid him fetch a parson presently. Say he shall marry the widow. Thou shalt spend 64 A hundred pound by the service! [_Exit_ SUBTLE.] Now, Queen Dol, Have you pack’d up all?

_Dol._ Yes.

_Face._ And how do you like The Lady Pliant?

_Dol._ A good dull innocent.

[_Re-enter_ SUBTLE.]

_Sub._ Here’s your Hieronimo’s cloak and hat.

_Face._ Give me ’em.

_Sub._ And the ruff too?

_Face._ Yes; I ’ll come to you presently. [_Exit._]

_Sub._ Now he is gone about his project, Dol, 70 I told you of, for the widow.

_Dol._ ’T is direct Against our articles.

_Sub._ Well, we will fit him, wench. Hast thou gull’d her of her jewels or her bracelets?

_Dol._ No; but I will do ’t.

_Sub._ Soon at night, my Dolly, When we are shipt, and all our goods aboard, 75 Eastward for Ratcliff, we will turn our course To Brainford, westward, if thou sayst the word, And take our leaves of this o’erweening rascal. This peremptory Face.

_Dol._ Content; I ’m weary of him.

_Sub._ Thou ’st cause, when the slave will run at wiving, Dol, 80 Against the instrument that was drawn between us.

_Dol._ I ’ll pluck his bird as bare as I can.

_Sub._ Yes, tell her She must by any means address some present To th’ cunning man, make him amends for wronging His art with her suspicion; send a ring, 85 Or chain of pearl; she will be tortur’d else Extremely in her sleep, say, and ha’ strange things Come to her. Wilt thou?

_Dol._ Yes.

_Sub._ My fine flitter-mouse,[2059] My bird o’ the night! We ’ll tickle it at the Pigeons,[2060] 89 When we have all, and may unlock the trunks, And say, this ’s mine, and thine; and thine, and mine. _They kiss._

_Re-enter_ FACE.

_Face._ What now! a billing?

_Sub._ Yes, a little exalted In the good passage of our stock-affairs.

_Face._ Drugger has brought his parson; take him in, Subtle, And send Nab back again to wash his face. 95

_Sub._ I will; and shave himself? [_Exit._]

_Face._ If you can get him.

_Dol._ You are hot upon it, Face, whate’er it is!

_Face._ A trick that Dol shall spend ten pound a month by. [_Re-enter_ SUBTLE.] Is he gone?

_Sub._ The chaplain waits you i’ the hall, sir.

_Face._ I ’ll go bestow him. [_Exit._]

_Dol._ He ’ll now marry her instantly.

_Sub._ He cannot yet, he is not ready. Dear Dol, 101 Cozen her of all thou canst. To deceive him Is no deceit, but justice, that would break Such an inextricable tie as ours was.

_Dol._ Let me alone to fit him.

[_Re-enter_ FACE.]

_Face._ Come, my venturers, You ha’ pack’d up all? Where be the trunks? Bring forth. 106

_Sub._ Here.

_Face._ Let us see ’em. Where ’s the money?

_Sub._ Here, In this.

_Face._ Mammon’s ten pound; eight score before; The brethren’s money this. Drugger’s and Dapper’s. What paper ’s that?

_Dol._ The jewel of the waiting maid’s, 110 That stole it from her lady, to know certain——

_Face._ If she should have precedence of her mistress?

_Dol._ Yes.

_Face._ What box is that?

_Sub._ The fish-wives’ rings, I think, And th’ ale-wives’ single money.[2061] Is ’t not, Dol?

_Dol._ Yes; and the whistle that the sailor’s wife 115 Brought you to know an her husband were with Ward.[2062]

_Face._ We ’ll wet it to-morrow; and our silver beakers And tavern cups. Where be the French petticoats And girdles and hangers?

_Sub._ Here, i’ the trunk, And the bolts of lawn.

_Face._ Is Drugger’s damask there, And the tobacco?

_Sub._ Yes.

_Face._ Give me the keys. 121

_Dol._ Why you the keys?

_Sub._ No matter, Dol; because We shall not open ’em before he comes.

_Face._ ’T is true, you shall not open them, indeed; Nor have ’em forth, do you see? Not forth, Dol.

_Dol._ No! 125

_Face._ No, my smock-rampant. The right is, my master Knows all, has pardon’d me, and he will keep ’em. Doctor, ’t is true—you look—for all your figures: I sent for him, indeed. Wherefore, good partners, Both he and she, be satisfied: for here 130 Determines[2063] the indenture tripartite ’Twixt Subtle, Dol, and Face. All I can do Is to help you over the wall, o’ the back-side, Or lend you a sheet to save your velvet gown, Dol. Here will be officers presently, bethink you 135 Of some course suddenly to scape the dock; For thither you ’ll come else. (_Some knock._) Hark you, thunder.

_Sub._ You are a precious fiend!

_Offi._ [_without._] Open the door.

_Face._ Dol, I am sorry for thee i’ faith; but hear’st thou? It shall go hard but I will place thee somewhere: 140 Thou shalt ha’ my letter to Mistress Amo——

_Dol._ Hang you.

_Face._ Or Madam Caesarean.

_Dol._ Pox upon you, rogue, Would I had but time to beat thee!

_Face._ Subtle, Let ’s know where you ’ll set up next; I will send you 144 A customer now and then, for old acquaintance. What new course have you?

_Sub._ Rogue, I ’ll hang myself; That I may walk a greater devil than thou, And haunt thee i’ the flock-bed and the buttery. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE V.[2064]

[_Enter_] LOVEWIT [_in the Spanish dress, with the_ Parson. _Loud knocking at the door._]

_Love._ What do you mean, my masters?

_Mam._ [_without._] Open your door, Cheaters, bawds, conjurers.

_Offi._ [_without._] Or we ’ll break it open.

_Love._ What warrant have you?

_Offi._ [_without._] Warrant enough, sir, doubt not, If you ’ll not open it.

_Love._ Is there an officer there?

_Offi._ [_without._] Yes, two or three for failing.[2065]

_Love._ Have but patience, 5 And I will open it straight.

[_Enter_ FACE, _as butler_.]

_Face._ Sir, ha’ you done? Is it a marriage? Perfect?

_Love._ Yes, my brain.

_Face._ Off with your ruff and cloak then; be yourself, sir.

_Sur._ [_without._] Down with the door.

_Kas._ [_without._] ’Slight, ding[2066] it open.

_Love. [opening the door.]_ Hold, Hold, gentlemen, what means this violence? 10

[MAMMON, SURLY, KASTRIL, ANANIAS, TRIBULATION _and_ Officers _rush in._]

_Mam._ Where is this collier?

_Sur._ And my Captain Face?

_Mam._ These day-owls.

_Sur._ That are birding[2067] in men’s purses.

_Mam._ Madam Suppository.

_Kas._ Doxy, my suster.

_Ana._ Locusts. Of the foul pit.

_Tri._ Profane as Bel and the Dragon.

_Ana._ Worse than the grasshoppers, or the lice of Egypt. 15

_Love._ Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers, And cannot stay this violence?

_1 Offi._ Keep the peace.

_Love._ Gentlemen, what is the matter? Whom do you seek?

_Mam._ The chemical cozener.

_Sur._ And the captain pander.

_Kas._ The nun my suster.

_Mam._ Madam Rabbi.

_Ana._ Scorpions, 20 And caterpillars.

_Love._ Fewer at once, I pray you.

_1 Offi._ One after another, gentlemen, I charge you, By virtue of my staff.

_Ana._ They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart.

_Love._ Good zeal, lie still A little while.

_Tri._ Peace, Deacon Ananias. 25

_Love._ The house is mine here, and the doors are open; If there be any such persons as you seek for, Use your authority, search on o’ God’s name, I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult ’bout my door, to tell you true, 30 It somewhat maz’d me; till my man here, fearing My more displeasure, told me he had done Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house (Belike presuming on my known aversion From any air o’ the town while there was sickness), 35 To a doctor and a captain: who, what they are Or where they be, he knows not.

_Mam._ Are they gone?

_Love._ You may go in and search, sir. (MAMMON, ANA., _and_ TRIB. _go in_.) Here, I find The empty walls worse than I left ’em, smok’d, A few crack’d pots, and glasses, and a furnace: The ceiling fill’d with poesies of the candle, 41 And “Madam with a dildo”[2068] writ o’ the walls. Only one gentlewoman I met here That is within, that said she was a widow——

_Kas._ Ay, that’s my suster; I ’ll go thump her. Where is she? [_Goes in._] 45

_Love._ And should ha’ married a Spanish count, but he, When he came to ’t, neglected her so grossly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her.

_Sur._ How! have I lost her then?

_Love._ Were you the don, sir? Good faith, now she does blame you extremely, and says 50 You swore, and told her you had ta’en the pains To dye your beard, and umber o’er your face, Borrowed a suit, and ruff, all for her love: And then did nothing. What an oversight And want of putting forward, sir, was this! 55 Well fare an old harquebusier[2069] yet, Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit, All in a twinkling! MAMMON _comes forth_.

_Mam._ The whole nest are fled!

_Love._ What sort of birds were they?

_Mam._ A kind of choughs,[2070] Or thievish daws, sir, that have pickt my purse, 60 Of eight score and ten pounds within these five weeks, Beside my first materials; and my goods, That lie i’ the cellar, which I am glad they ha’ left, I may have home yet.

_Love._ Think you so, sir?

_Mam._ Ay.

_Love._ By order of law, sir, but not otherwise.

_Mam._ Not mine own stuff!

_Love._ Sir, I can take no knowledge 66 That they are yours, but by public means. If you can bring certificate that you were gull’d of ’em, Or any formal writ out of a court, That you did cozen yourself, I will not hold them. 70

_Mam._ I ’ll rather lose ’em.

_Love._ That you shall not, sir, By me, in troth; upon these terms, they ’re yours. What, should they ha’ been, sir, turn’d into gold, all?

_Mam._ No. I cannot tell.—It may be they should.—What then?

_Love._ What a great loss in hope have you sustain’d! 75

_Mam._ Not I; the commonwealth has.

_Face._ Ay, he would ha’ built The city new; and made a ditch about it Of silver, should have run with cream from Hogsden; That every Sunday in Moorsfields the younkers, And tits[2071] and tom-boys should have fed on, gratis. 80

_Mam._ I will go mount a turnip-cart, and preach The end o’ the world within these two months. Surly, What! in a dream?

_Sur._ Must I needs cheat myself With that same foolish vice of honesty! Come, let us go and hearken out the rogues: 85 That Face I ’ll mark for mine, if e’er I meet him.

_Face._ If I can hear of him, sir, I ’ll bring you word Unto your lodging; for in troth, they were strangers To me; I thought ’em honest as myself, sir. _They come forth._

[_Re-enter_ ANANIAS _and_ TRIBULATION.]

_Tri._ ’T is well, the saints shall not lose all yet. Go 90 And get some carts——

_Love._ For what, my zealous friends?

_Ana._ To bear away the portion of the righteous Out of this den of thieves.

_Love._ What is that portion?

_Ana._ The goods sometimes the orphans’, that the brethren Bought with their silver pence.

_Love._ What, those i’ the cellar, 95 The knight Sir Mammon claims?

_Ana._ I do defy The wicked Mammon, so do all the brethren, Thou profane man! I ask thee with what conscience Thou canst advance that idol against us, That have the seal?[2072] Were not the shillings numb’red 100 That made the pounds; were not the pounds told out Upon the second day of the fourth week, In the eighth month, upon the table dormant, The year of the last patience of the saints, Six hundred and ten?

_Love._ Mine earnest vehement botcher, 105 And deacon also, I cannot dispute with you: But if you get you not away the sooner, I shall confute you with a cudgel.

_Ana._ Sir!

_Tri._ Be patient, Ananias.

_Ana._ I am strong, And will stand up, well girt, against an host 110 That threaten Gad in exile.

_Love._ I shall send you To Amsterdam, to your cellar.

_Ana._ I will pray there, Against thy house. May dogs defile thy walls, And wasps and hornets breed beneath thy roof, This seat of falsehood, and this cave of coz’nage! [_Exeunt_ ANA. _and_ TRIB.]

_Enter_ DRUGGER.

_Love._ Another too?

_Drug._ Not I, sir, I am no brother. 116

_Love._ (_beats him._) Away, you Harry Nicholas![2073] do you talk? [_Exit_ DRUG.]

_Face._ No, this was Abel Drugger. Good sir, go, (_To the_ Parson.) And satisfy him; tell him all is done; He staid too long a washing of his face. 120 The doctor, he shall hear of him at Westchester; And of the captain, tell him, at Yarmouth, or Some good port-town else, lying for a wind. [_Exit_ Parson.] If you can get off the angry child now, sir——

[_Enter_ KASTRIL, _dragging in_] _his sister_.

_Kas._ Come on, you ewe, you have match’d most sweetly, ha’ you not? 125 Did not I say, I would never ha’ you tupt But by a dubb’d boy,[2074] to make you a lady-tom? ’Slight, you are a mammet![2075] O, I could touse you now. Death, mun[2076] you marry with a pox!

_Love._ You lie, boy; As sound as you; and I ’m aforehand with you.

_Kas._ Anon! 130

_Love._ Come, will you quarrel? I will feize[2077] you, sirrah; Why do you not buckle to your tools?

_Kas._ God’s light, This is a fine old boy as e’er I saw!

_Love._ What, do you change your copy now? Proceed; Here stands my dove: stoop[2078] at her if you dare. 135

_Kas._ ’Slight, I must love him! I cannot choose, i’ faith, An I should be hang’d for ’t! Suster, I protest, I honour thee for this match.

_Love._ O, do you so, sir?

_Kas._ Yes, an thou canst take tobacco and drink, old boy, I ’ll give her five hundred pound more to her marriage, 140 Than her own state.

_Love._ Fill a pipe full, Jeremy.

_Face._ Yes; but go in and take it, sir.

_Love._ We will. I will be rul’d by thee in anything, Jeremy.

_Kas._ ’Slight, thou art not hide-bound, thou art a jovy[2079] boy! 144 Come, let us in, I pray thee, and take our whiffs.

_Love._ Whiff in with your sister, brother boy. [_Exeunt_ KAS. _and Dame P._] That master That had receiv’d such happiness by a servant, In such a widow, and with so much wealth, Were very ungrateful, if he would not be A little indulgent to that servant’s wit, 150 And help his fortune, though were some small strain Of his own candour.[2080] [_Advancing._] Therefore, gentlemen, And kind spectators, if I have outstript An old man’s gravity, or strict canon, think 154 What a young wife and a good brain may do; Stretch age’s truth sometimes, and crack it too. Speak for thyself, knave.

_Face._ So I will, sir. [_Advancing to the front of the stage._] Gentlemen, My part a little fell in this last scene, Yet ’t was decorum.[2081] And though I am clean Got off from Subtle, Surly, Mammon, Dol, 160 Hot Ananias, Dapper, Drugger, all With whom I traded; yet I put myself On you, that are my country:[2082] and this pelf Which I have got, if you do quit me, rests, To feast you often, and invite new guests. 166 [_Exeunt._]

THE SHOEMAKERS’ HOLIDAY

BY THOMAS DEKKER

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE KING. THE EARL OF CORNWALL. SIR HUGH LACY, Earl of Lincoln. ROWLAND LACY, } otherwise HANS, } His Nephews. ASKEW } SIR ROGER OATELY, Lord Mayor of London. Master HAMMON, } Master WARNER, } Citizens of London. Master SCOTT, } SIMON EYRE, the Shoemaker. ROGER, commonly } called HODGE, } FIRK, } EYRE’S Journeymen. RALPH, } LOVELL, a Courtier. DODGER, a Servant to the EARL OF LINCOLN. A Dutch Skipper. A Boy. ROSE, Daughter of SIR ROGER. SYBIL, her Maid. MARGERY, Wife of SIMON EYRE. JANE, Wife of RALPH.

Courtiers, Attendants, Officers, Soldiers, Hunters, Shoemakers, Apprentices, Servants.

SCENE.—_London_ and _Old Ford_.]

THE PROLOGUE

_As it was pronounced before the Queen’s Majesty_

As wretches in a storm, expecting day, With trembling hands and eyes cast up to heaven, Make prayers the anchor of their conquer’d hopes, So we, dear goddess, wonder of all eyes, Your meanest vassals, through mistrust and fear 5 To sink into the bottom of disgrace By our imperfect pastimes, prostrate thus On bended knees, our sails of hope do strike, Dreading the bitter storms of your dislike. Since then, unhappy men, our hap is such 10 That to ourselves ourselves no help can bring, But needs must perish, if your saint-like ears, Locking the temple where all mercy sits, Refuse the tribute of all begging tongues; Oh, grant, bright mirror of true chastity, 15 From those life-breathing stars, your sun-like eyes, One gracious smile; for your celestial breath Must send us life, or sentence us to death.

ACT I

SCENE I.[2083]

_Enter the_ LORD MAYOR _and the_ EARL OF LINCOLN.

_Linc._ My lord mayor, you have sundry times Feasted myself and many courtiers more; Seldom or never can we be so kind To make requital of your courtesy. But leaving this, I hear my cousin Lacy 5 Is much affected to[2084] your daughter Rose.

_L. Mayor._ True, my good lord, and she loves him so well That I mislike her boldness in the chase.

_Linc._ Why, my lord mayor, think you it then a shame, To join a Lacy with an Oateley’s name? 10

_L. Mayor._ Too mean is my poor girl for his high birth; Poor citizens must not with courtiers wed, Who will in silks and gay apparel spend More in one year than I am worth, by far: Therefore your honour need not doubt[2085] my girl. 15

_Linc._ Take heed, my lord, advise you what you do! A verier unthrift lives not in the world, Than is my cousin; for I ’ll tell you what: ’T is now almost a year since he requested To travel countries for experience. 20 I furnisht him with coin, bills of exchange, Letters of credit, men to wait on him, Solicited my friends in Italy Well to respect him. But, to see the end, Scant had he journey’d through half Germany, But all his coin was spent, his men cast off, 26 His bills embezzl’d,[2086] and my jolly coz,[2087] Asham’d to show his bankrupt presence here, Became a shoemaker in Wittenberg, A goodly science for a gentleman 30 Of such descent! Now judge the rest by this: Suppose your daughter have a thousand pound, He did consume me more in one half year: And make him heir to all the wealth you have One twelvemonth’s rioting will waste it all. 35 Then seek, my lord, some honest citizen To wed your daughter to.

_L. Mayor._ I thank your lordship. [_Aside._] Well, fox, I understand your subtilty.— As for your nephew, let your lordship’s eye But watch his actions, and you need not fear, For I have seen my daughter far enough. 41 And yet your cousin Rowland might do well, Now he hath learn’d an occupation: And yet I scorn to call him son-in-law.

_Linc._ Ay, but I have a better trade for him. I thank his grace, he hath appointed him 45 Chief colonel of all those companies Must’red in London and the shires about, To serve his highness in those wars of France. See where he comes!— _Enter_ LOVELL, LACY, _and_ ASKEW. Lovell, what news with you?

_Lovell._ My Lord of Lincoln, ’tis his highness’ will, 51 That presently[2088] your cousin ship for France With all his powers; he would not for a million, But they should land at Dieppe within four days.

_Linc._ Go certify his grace, it shall be done. _Exit_ LOVELL. Now, cousin Lacy, in what forwardness 56 Are all your companies?

_Lacy._ All well prepar’d. The men of Hertfordshire lie at Mile-end, Suffolk and Essex train in Tothill-fields, The Londoners and those of Middlesex, 60 All gallantly prepar’d in Finsbury, With frolic spirits long for their parting hour.

_L. Mayor._ They have their imprest,[2089] coats, and furniture;[2090] And, if it please your cousin Lacy come To the Guildhall, he shall receive his pay; 65 And twenty pounds besides my brethren Will freely give him, to approve our loves We bear unto my lord, your uncle here.

_Lacy._ I thank your honour.

_Linc._ Thanks, my good lord mayor. 69

_L. Mayor._ At the Guildhall we will expect your coming. _Exit._

_Linc._ To approve your loves to me? No subtilty Nephew, that twenty pound he doth bestow For joy to rid you from his daughter Rose. But, cousins both, now here are none but friends, I would not have you cast an amorous eye 75 Upon so mean a project as the love Of a gay, wanton, painted citizen. I know, this churl even in the height of scorn Doth hate the mixture of his blood with thine. I pray thee, do thou so! Remember, coz, 80 What honourable fortunes wait on thee. Increase the king’s love, which so brightly shines, And gilds thy hopes. I have no heir but thee,— And yet not thee, if with a wayward spirit Thou start from the true bias[2091] of my love. 85

_Lacy._ My lord, I will for honour, not desire Of land or livings, or to be your heir, So guide my actions in pursuit of France, As shall add glory to the Lacies’ name.

_Linc._ Coz, for those words here ’s thirty Portuguese,[2092] 90 And, nephew Askew, there ’s a few for you. Fair Honour, in her loftiest eminence, Stays in France for you, till you fetch her thence. Then, nephews, clap swift wings on your designs. 94 Begone, begone, make haste to the Guildhall; There presently I ’ll meet you. Do not stay: Where honour [beckons][2093] shame attends delay. _Exit._

_Askew._ How gladly would your uncle have you gone!

_Lacy._ True, coz, but I ’ll o’erreach his policies. I have some serious business for three days, 100 Which nothing but my presence can dispatch. You, therefore, cousin, with the companies, Shall haste to Dover; there I ’ll meet with you: Or, if I stay past my prefixed time, 104 Away for France; we ’ll meet in Normandy. The twenty pounds my lord mayor gives to me You shall receive, and these ten Portuguese, Part of mine uncle’s thirty. Gentle coz, Have care to our great charge; I know, your wisdom Hath tried itself in higher consequence. 110

_Askew._ Coz, all myself am yours: yet have this care, To lodge in London with all secrecy; Our uncle Lincoln hath, besides his own, Many a jealous eye, that in your face Stares only to watch means for your disgrace.

_Lacy._ Stay, cousin, who be these? 116

_Enter_ SIMON EYRE, [MARGERY] _his wife,_ HODGE, FIRK, JANE, _and_ RALPH _with a piece_.[2094]

_Eyre._ Leave whining, leave whining! Away with this whimp’ring, this puling, these blubb’ring tears, and these wet eyes! I ’ll get thy husband discharg’d, I warrant thee, sweet Jane; go to! (121)

_Hodge._ Master, here be the captains.

_Eyre._ Peace, Hodge; husht, ye knave, husht!

_Firk._ Here be the cavaliers and the colonels, master. 125

_Eyre._ Peace, Firk; peace, my fine Firk! Stand by with your pishery-pashery,[2095] away! I am a man of the best presence; I ’ll speak to them, an[2096] they were Popes.—Gentlemen, captains, colonels, commanders! Brave men, (130) brave leaders, may it please you to give me audience. I am Simon Eyre, the mad shoemaker of Tower Street; this wench with the mealy mouth that will never tire, is my wife, I can tell you; here ’s Hodge, my man and my foreman; (135) here ’s Firk, my fine firking[2097] journeyman, and this is blubbered Jane. All we come to be suitors for this honest Ralph. Keep him at home, and as I am a true shoemaker and a gentleman of the gentle craft, buy spurs yourself, and I ’ll (140) find ye boots these seven years.

_Marg._ Seven years, husband?

_Eyre._ Peace, midriff,[2098] peace! I know what I do. Peace! 144

_Firk._ Truly, master cormorant,[2099] you shall do God good service to let Ralph and his wife stay together. She ’s a young new-married woman; if you take her husband away from her a-night, you undo her; she may beg in the daytime; for he ’s as good a workman at a prick and an awl as any is in our trade. 151

_Jane._ O let him stay, else I shall be undone.

_Firk._ Ay, truly, she shall be laid at one side like a pair of old shoes else, and be occupied for no use. 155

_Lacy._ Truly, my friends it lies not in my power: The Londoners are press’d,[2100] paid, and set forth By the lord mayor; I cannot change a man.

_Hodge._ Why, then you were as good be a corporal as a colonel, if you cannot discharge (160) one good fellow; and I tell you true, I think you do more than you can answer, to press a man within a year and a day of his marriage.

_Eyre._ Well said, melancholy Hodge; gramercy, my fine foreman. 165

_Marg._ Truly, gentlemen, it were ill done for such as you, to stand so stiffly against a poor young wife, considering her case, she is new-married; but let that pass. I pray, deal not roughly with her; her husband is a young man, and but newly ent’red; but let that pass. 171

_Eyre._ Away with your pishery-pashery, your pols and your edipols![2101] Peace, midriff; silence, Cicely Bumtrinket! Let your head speak. 175

_Firk._ Yea, and the horns too, master.

_Eyre._ Too soon, my fine Firk, too soon! Peace, scoundrels! See you this man? Captains, you will not release him? Well, let him go; he ’s a proper shot; let him vanish! (180) Peace, Jane, dry up thy tears, they ’ll make his powder dankish.[2102] Take him, brave men; Hector of Troy was an hackney to him, Hercules and Termagant[2103] scoundrels. Prince Arthur’s Round-table—by the Lord of Ludgate—ne’er (185) fed such a tall,[2104] such a dapper swordman; by the life of Pharaoh, a brave resolute swordman! Peace, Jane! I say no more, mad knaves.

_Firk._ See, see, Hodge, how my master raves in commendation of Ralph! 190

_Hodge._ Ralph, th’ art a gull,[2105] by this hand, an thou goest not.

_Askew._ I am glad, good Master Eyre, it is my hap To meet so resolute a soldier. Trust me, for your report and love to him, 195 A common slight regard shall not respect him.

_Lacy._ Is thy name Ralph?

_Ralph._ Yes, sir.

_Lacy._ Give me thine hand; Thou shalt not want, as I am a gentleman. Woman, be patient; God, no doubt, will send Thy husband safe again; but he must go, 200 His country’s quarrel says it shall be so.

_Hodge._ Th’ art a gull, by my stirrup, if thou dost not go. I will not have thee strike thy gimlet into these weak vessels; prick thine enemies, Ralph. 205

_Enter_ DODGER.

_Dodger._ My lord, your uncle on the Tower-hill Stays with the lord-mayor and the aldermen, And doth request you, with all speed you may, To hasten thither.

_Askew._ Cousin, let ’s go.

_Lacy._ Dodger, run you before, tell them we come,— 210 This Dodger is mine uncle’s parasite. _Exit_ DODGER. The arrant’st varlet that e’er breath’d on earth; He sets more discord in a noble house By one day’s broaching of his pickthank tales,[2106] Than can be salv’d[2107] again in twenty years, 215 And he, I fear, shall go with us to France, To pry into our actions.

_Askew._ Therefore, coz, It shall behove you to be circumspect.

_Lacy._ Fear not, good cousin.—Ralph, hie to your colours. [_Exit_ LACY _and_ ASKEW.]

_Ralph._ I must, because there’s no remedy; But, gentle master and my loving dame, 221 As you have always been a friend to me, So in mine absence think upon my wife.

_Jane._ Alas, my Ralph.

_Marg._ She cannot speak for weeping. 224

_Eyre._ Peace, you crack’d groats,[2108] you mustard tokens,[2109] disquiet not the brave soldier. Go thy ways, Ralph!

_Jane._ Ay, ay, you bid him go; what shall I do When he is gone?

_Firk._ Why, be doing with me or my fellow Hodge; be not idle. 231

_Eyre._ Let me see thy hand, Jane. This fine hand, this white hand, these pretty fingers must spin, must card, must work; work, you bombast cotton-candle-quean; work for your living, (235) with a pox to you.—Hold thee, Ralph, here ’s five sixpences for thee; fight for the honour of the gentle craft, for the gentlemen shoemakers, the courageous cordwainers, the flower of St. Martin’s, the mad knaves of Bedlam, Fleet (240) Street, Tower Street and Whitechapel; crack me the crowns of the French knaves; a pox on them, crack them; fight, by the Lord of Ludgate; fight, my fine boy!

_Firk._ Here, Ralph, here ’s three two-pences; (245) two carry into France, the third shall wash our souls at parting, for sorrow is dry. For my sake, firk the _Basa mon cues_.

_Hodge._ Ralph. I am heavy at parting; but here ’s a shilling for thee. God send[2110] thee to (250) cram thy slops[2111] with French crowns, and thy enemies’ bellies with bullets.

_Ralph._ I thank you, master, and I thank you all. Now, gentle wife, my loving lovely Jane, Rich men, at parting, give their wives rich gifts, 255 Jewels and rings, to grace their lily hands. Thou know’st our trade makes rings for women’s heels; Here take this pair of shoes, cut out by Hodge, Stitch’d by my fellow Firk, seam’d by myself, Made up and pink’d[2112] with letters for thy name. 260 Wear them, my dear Jane, for thy husband’s sake, And every morning when thou pull’st them on, Remember me, and pray for my return. Make much of them; for I have made them so That I can know them from a thousand mo. 265

_Drum sounds. Enter the_ LORD MAYOR, _the_ EARL OF LINCOLN, LACY, ASKEW, DODGER, _and_ Soldiers. _They pass over the stage_; RALPH _falls in amongst them_; FIRK _and the rest cry_ “Farewell,” etc., _and so exeunt_.

ACT II

SCENE I.[2113]

_Enter_ ROSE, _alone, making a garland_.

_Rose._ Here sit thou down upon this flow’ry bank And make a garland for thy Lacy’s head. These pinks, these roses, and these violets, These blushing gilliflowers, these marigolds, The fair embroidery of his coronet, 5 Carry not half such beauty in their cheeks, As the sweet count’nance of my Lacy doth. O my most unkind father! O my stars, Why lower’d you so at my nativity, To make me love, yet live robb’d of my love? Here as a thief am I imprisoned 11 For my dear Lacy’s sake within those walls, Which by my father’s cost were builded up For better purposes. Here must I languish For him that doth as much lament, I know, 15 Mine absence, as for him I pine in woe.

_Enter_ SYBIL.

_Sybil._ Good morrow, young mistress. I am sure you make that garland for me, against[2114] I shall be Lady of the Harvest.

_Rose._ Sybil, what news at London? 20

_Sybil._ None but good; my lord mayor, your father, and master Philpot, your uncle, and Master Scot, your cousin, and Mistress Frigbottom by Doctors’ Commons, do all, by my troth, send you most hearty commendations. 25

_Rose._ Did Lacy send kind greetings to his love?

_Sybil._ O yes, out of cry, by my troth. I scant knew him; here ’a wore a scarf; and here a scarf, here a bunch of feathers, and here precious stones and jewels, and a pair (30) of garters,—O, monstrous! like one of our yellow silk curtains at home here in Old Ford House here, in Master Belly-mount’s chamber. I stood at our door in Cornhill, look’d at him, he at me indeed, spake to him, but he not (35) to me, not a word; marry go-up, thought I, with a wanion![2115] He pass’d by me as proud —Marry foh! are you grown humorous,[2116] thought I; and so shut the door, and in I came.

_Rose._ O Sybil, how dost thou my Lacy wrong! 40 My Rowland is as gentle as a lamb, No dove was ever half so mild as he.

_Sybil._ Mild? yea, as a bushel of stamp crabs.[2117] He lookt upon me as sour as verjuice.[2118] Go thy ways, thought I, thou may’st be much (45) in my gaskins,[2119] but nothing in my nether-stocks.[2120] This is your fault, mistress, to love him that loves not you; he thinks scorn to do as he ’s done to; but if I were as you, I ’d cry, “Go by, Jeronimo, go by!”[2121] 50 I ’d set mine old debts against my new driblets, And the hare’s foot against the goose giblets, For if ever I sigh, when sleep I should take, Pray God I may lose my maidenhead when I wake.

_Rose._ Will my love leave me then, and go to France? 55

_Sybil._ I know not that, but I am sure I see him stalk before the soldiers. By my troth, he is a proper[2122] man; but he is proper that proper doth. Let him go snick-up,[2123] young mistress. 60

_Rose._ Get thee to London, and learn perfectly Whether my Lacy go to France, or no. Do this, and I will give thee for thy pains My cambric apron and my Romish gloves, My purple stockings and a stomacher. 65 Say, wilt thou do this, Sybil, for my sake?

_Sybil._ Will I, quoth ’a? At whose suit? By my troth, yes, I ’ll go. A cambric apron, gloves, a pair of purple stockings, and a stomacher! I ’ll sweat in purple, mistress, for you; (70) I ’ll take anything that comes a’ God’s name. O rich! a cambric apron! Faith, then have at ‘up tails all.’ I ’ll go jiggy-joggy to London, and be here in a trice, young mistress. _Exit._

_Rose._ Do so, good Sybil. Meantime wretched I Will sit and sigh for his lost company. _Exit._ 75

SCENE II.[2124]

_Enter_ LACY, _like a Dutch Shoemaker_.

_Lacy._ How many shapes have gods and kings devis’d, Thereby to compass their desired loves! It is no shame for Rowland Lacy, then, To clothe his cunning with the gentle craft, That, thus disguis’d, I may unknown possess 5 The only happy presence of my Rose. For her have I forsook my charge in France, Incurr’d the king’s displeasure, and stirr’d up Rough hatred in mine uncle Lincoln’s breast. O love, how powerful art thou, that canst change High birth to baseness, and a noble mind 11 To the mean semblance of a shoemaker! But thus it must be; for her cruel father, Hating the single union of our souls, 14 Has secretly convey’d my Rose from London, To bar me of her presence; but I trust, Fortune and this disguise will further me Once more to view her beauty, gain her sight. Here in Tower Street with Eyre the shoemaker Mean I a while to work; I know the trade, 20 I learnt it when I was in Wittenberg. Then cheer thy hoping spirits, be not dismay’d, Thou canst not want: do Fortune what she can, The gentle craft is living for a man. _Exit._

SCENE III.[2125]

_Enter_ EYRE, _making himself ready_.[2126]

_Eyre._ Where be these boys, these girls, these drabs, these scoundrels? They wallow in the fat brewiss[2127] of my bounty, and lick up the crumbs of my table, yet will not rise to see my walks cleansed. Come out, you powder-beef[2128] queans! What, Nan! what, Madge Mumble-crust. (6) Come out, you fat midriff-swag-belly-whores, and sweep me these kennels[2129] that the noisome stench offend not the noses of my neighbours. What, Firk, I say; what, Hodge! Open my (10) shop windows! What, Firk, I say!

_Enter_ FIRK.

_Firk._ O master, is ’t you that speak bandog[2130] and Bedlam[2131] this morning? I was in a dream, and mused what madman was got into the street so early. Have you drunk this morning that (15) your throat is so clear?

_Eyre._ Ah, well said, Firk; well said, Firk. To work, my fine knave, to work! Wash thy face, and thou ’t be more blest.

_Firk._ Let them wash my face that will eat (20) it. Good master, send for a souse-wife,[2132] if you’ll have my face cleaner.

_Enter_ HODGE.

_Eyre._ Away, sloven! avaunt, scoundrel!—Good-morrow, Hodge; good-morrow, my fine foreman. 25

_Hodge._ O master, good-morrow; y’ are an early stirrer. Here ’s a fair morning.—Good-morrow, Firk, I could have slept this hour. Here ’s a brave day towards.[2133]

_Eyre._ Oh, haste to work, my fine foreman, (30) haste to work.

_Firk._ Master, I am dry as dust to hear my fellow Roger talk of fair weather; let us pray for good leather, and let clowns and plough-boys and those that work in the fields pray (35) for brave days. We work in a dry shop; what care I if it rain?

_Enter_ EYRE’S _wife_ [MARGERY].

_Eyre._ How now, Dame Margery, can you see to rise? Trip and go, call up the drabs, your maids. 40

_Marg._ See to rise? I hope ’t is time enough, ’t is early enough for any woman to be seen abroad. I marvel how many wives in Tower Street are up so soon. Gods me, ’t is not noon,—here ’s a yawling![2134] 45

_Eyre._ Peace, Margery, peace! Where ’s Cicely Bumtrinket, your maid? She has a privy fault, she farts in her sleep. Call the quean up; if my men want shoe-thread, I ’ll swinge her in a stirrup. 50

_Firk._ Yet, that ’s but a dry beating; here ’s still a sign of drought.

_Enter_ LACY [_disguised_], _singing_.

_Lacy. Der was een bore van Gelderland Frolick sie byen; He was als dronck he cold nyet stand, Upsolce sie byen. 56 Tap eens de canneken, Drincke, schone mannekin._[2135]

_Firk._ Master, for my life, yonder’s a brother (59) of the gentle craft; if he bear not Saint Hugh’s bones,[2136] I ’ll forfeit my bones; he ’s some uplandish workman: hire him, good master, that I may learn some gibble-gabble; ’t will make us work the faster. 64

_Eyre._ Peace, Firk! A hard world! Let him pass, let him vanish; we have journeymen enow. Peace, my fine Firk!

_Marg._ Nay, nay, y’ are best follow your man’s counsel; you shall see what will come on ’t. We have not men enow, but we must entertain (70) every butter-box;[2137] but let that pass.

_Hodge._ Dame, ’fore God, if my master follow your counsel, he ’ll consume little beef. He shall be clad of men an he can catch them.

_Firk._ Ay, that he shall. 75

_Hodge._ ’Fore God, a proper man, and I warrant, a fine workman. Master, farewell; dame, adieu; if such a man as he cannot find work, Hodge is not for you. _Offers to go._

_Eyre._ Stay, my fine Hodge. 80

_Firk._ Faith, an your foreman go, dame, you must take a journey to seek a new journeyman; if Roger remove, Firk follows. If Saint Hugh’s bones shall not be set a-work, I may prick mine all in the walls, and go play. Fare ye well, master; good-bye, dame. 86

_Eyre._ Tarry, my fine Hodge, my brisk foreman! Stay, Firk! Peace, pudding-broth! By the Lord of Ludgate, I love my men as my life. Peace, you gallimaufry![2138] Hodge, if he (90) want work, I ’ll hire him. One of you to him; stay,—he comes to us.

Lacy. _Goeden dach, meester, ende u vro oak._[2139]

_Firk._ Nails,[2140] if I should speak after him without drinking, I should choke. And you, (95) friend Oake, are you of the gentle craft?

Lacy. _Yaw, yaw, ik bin den skomawker._[2141]

_Firk. Den skomaker_, quoth ’a! And hark you, _skomaker_, have you all your tools, a good rubbing-pin, a good stopper, a good dresser, your (100) four sorts of awls, and your two balls of wax, your paring knife, your hand-and-thumb-leathers, and good St. Hugh’s bones to smooth up your work? 104

Lacy. _Yaw, yaw; be niet vorveard. Ik hab all de dingen voour mack skooes groot and cleane._[2142]

_Firk._ Ha, ha! Good master, hire him; he ’ll make me laugh so that I shall work more in mirth than I can in earnest.

_Eyre._ Hear ye, friend, have ye any skill in (110) the mystery[2143] of cordwainers?

Lacy. _Ik weet niet wat yow seg; ich verstaw you niet._[2144]

_Firk._ Why, thus, man: [_Imitating by gesture_ (114) _a shoemaker at work._] _Ich verste u niet_, quoth ’a.

Lacy. _Yaw, yaw, yaw; ick can dat wel doen._[2145]

_Firk. Yaw, yaw!_ He speaks yawing like a jackdaw that gapes to be fed with cheese-curds. Oh, he ’ll give a villanous pull at a (120) can of double-beer; but Hodge and I have the vantage, we must drink first, because we are the eldest journeymen.

_Eyre._ What is thy name?

_Lacy._ Hans—Hans Meulter. 125

_Eyre._ Give me thy hand; th’ art welcome.— Hodge, entertain him; Firk, bid him welcome; come, Hans. Run, wife, bid your maids, your trullibubs,[2146] make ready my fine men’s breakfasts. To him, Hodge! 130

_Hodge._ Hans, th’ art welcome; use thyself friendly, for we are good fellows; if not, thou shalt be fought with, wert thou bigger than a giant.

_Firk._ Yea, and drunk with, wert thou Gargantua. (135) My master keeps no cowards, I tell thee.—Ho, boy, bring him an heel-block, here ’s a new journeyman.

[_Enter_ Boy.]

Lacy. _O, ich wersto you; ich moet een halve dossen cans betaelen; here, boy, nempt dis skilling, tap eens freelicke._[2147] [_Exit_ Boy.] 141

_Eyre._ Quick, snipper-snapper, away! Firk, scour thy throat; thou shalt wash it with Castilian liquor. [_Enter_ Boy.] Come, my last of the fives, give me a can. Have to thee, Hans; here, Hodge; here, Firk; (146) drink, you mad Greeks, and work like true Trojans, and pray for Simon Eyre, the shoemaker.—Here, Hans, and th’ art welcome.

_Firk._ Lo, dame, you would have lost a good fellow that will teach us to laugh. This (151) beer came hopping in well.

_Marg._ Simon, it is almost seven.

_Eyre._ Is ’t so. Dame Clapper-dudgeon?[2148] Is ’t seven a clock, and my men’s breakfast not ready? Trip and go, you sous’d conger,[2149] (156) away! Come, you mad hyperboreans; follow me, Hodge; follow me, Hans; come after, my fine Firk; to work, to work a while, and then to breakfast. _Exit._

_Firk._ Soft! _Yaw, yaw_, good Hans, though (161) my master have no more wit but to call you afore me, I am not so foolish to go behind you, I being the elder journeyman. _Exeunt._

SCENE IV.[2150]

[_Halloaing within._] _Enter_ WARNER _and_ HAMMON, _like Hunters_.

_Ham._ Cousin, beat every brake, the game ’s not far, This way with winged feet he fled from death, Whilst the pursuing hounds, scenting his steps, Find out his highway to destruction. Besides, the miller’s boy told me even now, 5 He saw him take soil,[2151] and he halloaed him, Affirming him to have been so embost[2152] That long he could not hold.

_Warn._ If it be so, ’T is best we trace these meadows by Old Ford.

[_A noise of_ Hunters _within. Enter a_ Boy.]

_Ham._ How now, boy? Where’s the deer? speak, saw’st thou him? 11

_Boy._ O yea; I saw him leap through a hedge, and then over a ditch, then at my lord mayor’s pale, over he skipt me, and in he went me, and “holla” the hunters cried, and “there, (15) boy; there, boy!” But there he is, a’ mine honesty.

_Ham._ Boy. Godamercy. Cousin, let ’s away; I hope we shall find better sport to-day. 19 _Exeunt._

SCENE V.[2153]

[_Hunting within._] _Enter_ ROSE _and_ SYBIL.

_Rose._ Why, Sybil, wilt thou prove a forester?

_Sybil._ Upon some, no. Forester? Go by; no, faith, mistress. The deer came running into the barn through the orchard and over the pale; I wot well, I lookt as pale as a new cheese to see him. But whip, says Goodman Pinclose, (6) up with his flail, and our Nick with a prong, and down he fell, and they upon him, and I upon them. By my troth, we had such sport; and in the end we ended him; his throat we cut, flay’d him, unhorn’d him, and my (11) lord mayor shall eat of him anon, when he comes. _Horns sound within._

_Rose._ Hark, hark, the hunters come; y’ are best take heed, They ’ll have a saying to you for this deed. 15

_Enter_ HAMMON, WARNER, Huntsmen, _and_ Boy.

_Ham._ God save you, fair ladies.

_Sybil._ Ladies! O gross![2154]

_Warn._ Came not a buck this way?

_Rose._ No, but two does.

_Ham._ And which way went they? Faith, we ’ll hunt at those.

_Sybil._ At those? Upon some, no. When, can you tell?

_Warn._ Upon some, ay.

_Sybil._ Good Lord!

_Warn._ Wounds![2155] Then farewell! 20

_Ham._ Boy, which way went he?

_Boy._ This way, sir, he ran.

_Ham._ This way he ran indeed, fair Mistress Rose; Our game was lately in your orchard seen.

_Warn._ Can you advise, which way he took his flight?

_Sybil._ Follow your nose; his horns will guide you right. 25

_Warn._ Th’ art a mad wench.

_Sybil._ O, rich!

_Rose._ Trust me, not I. It is not like that the wild forest-deer Would come so near to places of resort; You are deceiv’d, he fled some other way.

_Warn._ Which way, my sugar-candy, can you shew? 30

_Sybil._ Come up, good honeysops, upon some, no.

_Rose._ Why do you stay, and not pursue your game?

_Sybil._ I ’ll hold my life, their hunting-nags be lame.

_Ham._ A deer more dear is found within this place.

_Rose._ But not the deer, sir, which you had in chase. 35

_Ham._ I chas’d the deer, but this dear chaseth me.

_Rose._ The strangest hunting that ever I see. But where ’s your park? _She offers to go away._

_Ham._ ’T is here: O stay!

_Rose._ Impale me, and then I will not stray.

_Warn._ They wrangle, wench; we are more kind than they. 40

_Sybil._ What kind of hart is that dear heart you seek?

_Warn._ A hart, dear heart.

_Sybil._ Who ever saw the like?

_Rose._ To lose your heart, is ’t possible you can?

_Ham._ My heart is lost.

_Rose._ Alack, good gentleman!

_Ham._ This poor lost heart would I wish you might find. 45

_Rose._ You, by such luck, might prove your hart a hind.

_Ham._ Why Luck had horns, so have I heard some say.

_Rose._ Now, God, an ’t be his will, send Luck into your way.

_Enter the_ LORD MAYOR _and_ Servants.

_L. Mayor._ What. Master Hammon? Welcome to Old Ford!

_Sybil._ Gods pittikins,[2156] hands off, sir! Here ’s my lord. 50

_L. Mayor._ I hear you had ill luck, and lost your game.

_Ham._ ’T is true, my lord.

_L. Mayor._ I am sorry for the same. What gentleman is this?

_Ham._ My brother-in-law.

_L. Mayor._ Y’ are welcome both; sith Fortune offers you Into my hands, you shall not part from hence, Until you have refresht your wearied limbs. 56 Go, Sybil, cover the board! You shall be guest To no good cheer, but even a hunter’s feast.

_Ham._ I thank your lordship.—Cousin, on my life, For our lost venison I shall find a wife. 60 _Exeunt_ [_all but_ MAYOR].

_L. Mayor._ In, gentlemen; I ’ll not be absent long.— This Hammon is a proper gentleman, A citizen by birth, fairly allied; How fit an husband were he for my girl! Well, I will in, and do the best I can, 65 To match my daughter to this gentleman. _Exit._

ACT III

SCENE I.[2157]

_Enter_ LACY [_as_ HANS], Skipper, HODGE, _and_ FIRK.

Skip. _Ick sal yow wat seggen, Hans; dis skip dot comen from Candy, is all vol, by Got’s sacrament, van sugar, civet, almonds, cambrick, end alle dingen, towsand towsand ding. Nempt it, Hans, nempt it vor u meester. Daer be de bils (5) van laden. Your meester Simon Eyre sal hae good copen. Wat seggen yow, Hans?[2158]_

_Firk. Wat seggen de reggen de copen, slopen_—laugh, Hodge, laugh! 9

_Hans. Mine liever broder Firk, bringt Meester Eyre tot del signe un Swannekin; daer sal yow finde dis skipper end me. Wat seggen yow, broder Firk? Doot it, Hodge._[2159] Come, skipper. _Exeunt._

_Firk._ Bring him, quoth you? Here ’s no (14) knavery, to bring my master to buy a ship north the lading of two or three hundred thousand pounds. Alas, that’s nothing; a trifle, a bauble, Hodge.

_Hodge._ The truth is, Firk, that the merchant owner of the ship dares not shew his head, (20) and therefore this skipper that deals for him, for the love he bears to Hans, offers my master Eyre a bargain in the commodities. He shall have a reasonable day of payment; he may sell (24) the wares by that time, and be an huge gainer himself.

_Firk._ Yea, but can my fellow Hans lend my master twenty porpentines as an earnest penny?

_Hodge._ Portuguese, thou wouldst say; here (29) they be, Firk; hark, they jingle in my pocket like St. Mary Overy’s bells.

_Enter_ EYRE _and his_ Wife [MARGERY].

_Firk._ Mum, here comes my dame and my master. She ’ll scold, on my life, for loitering this Monday; but all ’s one, let them all say what they can, Monday ’s our holiday. 35

_Marg._ You sing, Sir Sauce, but I beshrew your heart. I fear, for this your singing we shall smart.

_Firk._ Smart for me, dame; why, dame, why?

_Hodge._ Master, I hope you ’ll not suffer my dame to take down your journeymen. 40

_Firk._ If she take me down, I ’ll take her up? yea, and take her down too, a button-hole lower.

_Eyre._ Peace, Firk; not I, Hodge; by the life of Pharaoh, by the Lord of Ludgate, by this beard, every hair whereof I value at a (45) king’s ransom, she shall not meddle with you.—Peace, you bombast-cotton-candle-quean; away, queen of clubs; quarrel not with me and my men, with me and my fine Firk; I ’ll firk you, if you do. 50

_Marg._ Yea, yea, man, you may use me as you please; but let that pass.

_Eyre._ Let it pass, let it vanish away; peace! Am I not Simon Eyre? Are not these my (54) brave men, brave shoemakers, all gentlemen of the gentle craft? Prince am I none, yet am I nobly born, as being the sole son of a shoemaker. Away, rubbish! vanish, melt; melt; like kitchen-stuff. 59

_Marg._ Yea, yea, ’t is well; I must be call’d rubbish, kitchen-stuff, for a sort[2160] of knaves.

_Firk._ Nay, dame, you shall not weep and wail in woe for me. Master, I ’ll stay no longer; here ’s an inventory of my shop-tools. Adieu, master; Hodge, farewell. 65

_Hodge._ Nay, stay, Firk; thou shall not go alone.

_Marg._ I pray, let them go; there be moe maids than Mawkin, more men than Hodge, and more fools than Firk. 70

_Firk._ Fools? Nails! if I tarry now, I would my guts might be turn’d to shoe-thread.

_Hodge._ And if I stay, I pray God I may be turn’d to a Turk, and set in Finsbury[2161] for boys to shoot at.—Come, _Firk._ 75

_Eyre._ Stay, my fine knaves, you arms of my trade, you pillars of my profession. What, shall a tittle-tattle’s words make you forsake Simon Eyre?—Avaunt, kitchen-stuff! Rip, you brown-bread Tannikin; out of my sight! Move me not! Have not I ta’en you from selling 81 tripes in Eastcheap, and set you in my shop, and made you hail-fellow with Simon Eyre, the shoemaker? And now do you deal thus (84) with my journeymen? Look, you powder-beef-quean, on the face of Hodge, here ’s a face for a lord.

_Firk._ And here ’s a face for any lady in Christendom. 89

_Eyre._ Rip, you chitterling, avaunt! Boy, bid the tapster of the Boar’s Head fill me a dozen cans of beer for my journeymen.

_Firk._ A dozen cans? O, brave! Hodge, now I ’ll stay.

_Eyre._ [_in a low voice to the_ Boy.] An the (95) knave fills any more than two, he pays for them. [_Exit_ Boy. _Aloud._]—A dozen cans of beer for my journeymen. [_Re-enter_ Boy.] Here, you mad Mesopotamians, wash your livers (99) with this liquor. Where be the odd ten?—No more, Madge, no more.—Well said.[2162] Drink and to work!—What work dost thou, Hodge? What work?

_Hodge._ I am a making a pair of shoes for my lord mayor’s daughter, Mistress Rose. 105

_Firk._ And I a pair of shoes for Sybil, my lord’s maid. I deal with her.

_Eyre._ Sybil? Fie, defile not thy fine work-manly fingers with the feet of kitchenstuff (109) and basting-ladles. Ladies of the court, fine ladies, my lads, commit their feet to our apparelling; put gross work to Hans. Yark[2163] and seam, yark and seam!

_Firk._ For yarking and seaming let me alone, an I come to’t. 115

_Hodge._ Well, master, all this is from the bias.[2164] Do you remember the ship my fellow Hans told you of? The skipper and he are both drinking at the Swan. Here be the Portuguese (119) to give earnest. If you go through with it, you cannot choose but be a lord at least.

_Firk._ Nay, dame, if my master prove not a lord, and you a lady, hang me.

_Marg._ Yea, like enough, if you may loiter and tipple thus. 125

_Firk._ Tipple, dame? No, we have been bargaining with Skellum Skanderbag:[2165] can you Dutch spreaken for a ship of silk Cyprus, laden with sugar-candy. 129

_Enter_ Boy _with a velvet coat and an Alderman’s gown_. EYRE _puts them on_.

_Eyre._ Peace, Firk; silence, Tittle-tattle! Hodge, I’ll go through with it. Here’s a seal-ring, and I have sent for a guarded gown[2166] and a damask cassock. See where it comes; look here, Maggy; help me, Firk; apparel me, Hodge; silk and satin, you mad Philistines, 135 silk and satin.

_Firk._ Ha, ha, my master will be as proud as a dog in a doublet, all in beaten[2167] damask and velvet. 139

_Eyre._ Softly, Firk, for rearing[2168] of the nap, and wearing threadbare my garments. How dost thou like me, Firk? How do I look, my fine Hodge?

_Hodge._ Why, now you look like yourself, master. I warrant you, there ’s few in the (146) city but will give you the wall,[2169] and come upon you with[2170] the right worshipful.

_Firk._ Nails, my master looks like a threadbare cloak new turn’d and drest. Lord, Lord, (149) to see what good raiment doth! Dame, dame, are you not enamoured?

_Eyre._ How say’st thou, Maggy, am I not brisk? Am I not fine?

_Marg._ Fine? By my troth, sweetheart, very fine! By my troth, I never likt thee so well (155) in my life, sweetheart: but let that pass. I warrant, there be many women in the city have not such handsome husbands, but only for their apparel; but let that pass too. 159

_Re-enter_ HANS _and_ SKIPPER.

Hans. _Godden day, mester. Dis be de skipper dat heb de skip van marchandice; de commodity ben good; nempt it, master, nempt it._[2171]

_Eyre._ Godamercy, Hans; welcome, skipper. Where lies this ship of merchandise? 164

Skip. _De skip ben in revere; dor be van sugar, civet, almonds, cambrick, and a towsand, towsand tings, gotz sacrament; nempt it, mester: ye sal heb good copen._[2172]

_Firk._ To him, master! O sweet master! (169) O sweet wares! Prunes, almonds, sugar-candy, carrot-roots, turnips, O brave fatting meat! Let not a man buy a nutmeg but yourself.

_Eyre._ Peace, Firk! Come, skipper, I’ll go aboard with you.—Hans, have you made him drink? 175

_Skip. Yaw, yaw, ic heb veale gedrunck._[2173]

_Eyre._ Come, Hans, follow me. Skipper, thou shalt have my countenance in the city. _Exeunt._

_Firk. Yaw heb veale gedrunck_, quoth ’a. They may well be called butter-boxes, when (180) they drink fat veal and thick beer too. But come, dame, I hope you’ll chide us no more.

_Marg._ No, faith, Firk; no, perdy,[2174] Hodge. I do feel honour creep upon me, and which is more, a certain rising in my flesh; but let that pass. 186

_Firk._ Rising in your flesh do you feel, say you? Ay, you may be with child, but why should not my master feel a rising in his flesh, having a gown and a gold ring on? But you are such a shrew, you ’ll soon pull him down. 191

_Marg._ Ha, ha! prithee, peace! Thou mak’st my worship laugh; but let that pass. Come, I’ll go in; Hodge, prithee, go before me; Firk, follow me. 195

_Firk._ Firk doth follow: Hodge, pass out in state. _Exeunt._

SCENE II.[2175]

_Enter the_ EARL OF LINCOLN _and_ DODGER.

_Linc._ How now, good Dodger, what’s the news in France?

_Dodger._ My lord, upon the eighteenth day of May The French and English were prepar’d to fight; Each side with eager fury gave the sign Of a most hot encounter. Five long hours 5 Both armies fought together; at the length The lot of victory fell on our side. Twelve thousand of the Frenchmen that day died, Four thousand English, and no man of name But Captain Hyam and young Ardington, 10 Two gallant gentlemen, I knew them well.

_Linc._ But Dodger, prithee, tell me, in this fight How did my cousin Lacy bear himself?

_Dodger._ My lord, your cousin Lacy was not there.

_Linc._ Not there?

_Dodger._ No, my good lord.

_Linc._ Sure, thou mistakest. 15 I saw him shipp’d, and a thousand eyes beside Were witnesses of the farewells which he gave, When I, with weeping eyes, bid him adieu. Dodger, take heed.

_Dodger._ My lord, I am advis’d[2176] That what I spake is true: to prove it so, 20 His cousin Askew, that suppli’d his place, Sent me for him from France, that secretly He might convey himself thither.

_Linc._ Is ’t even so? Dares he so carelessly venture his life Upon the indignation of a king? 25 Has he despis’d my love, and spurn’d those favours Which I with prodigal hand pour’d on his head? He shall repent his rashness with his soul; Since of my love he makes no estimate, I ’ll make him wish he had not known my hate. 30 Thou hast no other news?

_Dodger._ None else, my lord.

_Linc._ None worse I know thou hast.—Procure the king To crown his giddy brows with ample honours, Send him chief colonel, and all my hope 34 Thus to be dash’d! But ’t is in vain to grieve, One evil cannot a worse relieve. Upon my life, I have found out his plot; That old dog, Love, that fawn’d upon him so, Love to that puling girl, his fair-cheek’d Rose, The lord mayor’s daughter, hath distracted him, 40 And in the fire of that love’s lunacy Hath he burnt up himself, consum’d his credit, Lost the king’s love, yea, and I fear, his life, Only to get a wanton to his wife, Dodger, it is so.

_Dodger._ I fear so, my good lord. 45

_Linc._ It is so—nay, sure it cannot be! I am at my wits’ end, Dodger!

_Dodger._ Yea, my lord.

_Linc._ Thou art acquainted with my nephew’s haunts, Spend this gold for thy pains; go seek him out. Watch at my lord mayor’s—there if he live, 50 Dodger, thou shalt be sure to meet with him. Prithee, be diligent.—Lacy, thy name Liv’d once in honour, now ’t is dead in shame.— Be circumspect. _Exit._

_Dodger._ I warrant you, my lord. _Exit._

SCENE III.[2177]

_Enter the_ L. MAYOR _and_ MASTER SCOTT.

_L. Mayor._ Good Master Scott, I have been bold with you, To be a witness to a wedding-knot Betwixt young Master Hammon and my daughter. O, stand aside; see where the lovers come.

_Enter_ MASTER HAMMON _and_ ROSE.

_Rose._ Can it be possible you love me so? 5 No, no, within those eyeballs I espy Apparent likelihoods of flattery. Pray now, let go my hand.

_Ham._ Sweet Mistress Rose, Misconstrue not my words, nor misconceive Of my affection, whose devoted soul 10 Swears that I love thee dearer than my heart.

_Rose._ As dear as your own heart? I judge it right, Men love their hearts best when th’ are out of sight.

_Ham._ I love you, by this hand.

_Rose._ Yet hands off now! If flesh be frail, how weak and frail ’s your vow!

_Ham._ Then by my life I swear.

_Rose._ Then do not brawl; 16 One quarrel loseth wife and life and all. Is not your meaning thus?

_Ham._ In faith, you jest.

_Rose._ Love loves to sport; therefore leave love, y’ are best.

_L. Mayor._ What? square[2178] they, Master Scott?

_Scott._ Sir, never doubt, 20 Lovers are quickly in, and quickly out.

_Ham._ Sweet Rose, be not so strange in fancying me. Nay, never turn aside, shun not my sight: I am not grown so fond, to fond[2179] my love On any that shall quit it with disdain; 25 If you will love me, so;—if not, farewell.

_L. Mayor._ Why, how now, lovers, are you both agreed?

_Ham._ Yes, faith, my lord.

_L. Mayor._ ’T is well, give me your hand. Give me yours, daughter.—How now, both pull back! What means this, girl?

_Rose._ I mean to live a maid. 30

_Ham._ (_Aside._) But not to die one; pause, ere that be said.

_L. Mayor._ Will you still cross me, still be obstinate?

_Ham._ Nay, chide her not, my lord, for doing well; If she can live an happy virgin’s life, ’T is far more blessed than to be a wife. 35

_Rose._ Say, sir, I cannot: I have made a vow, Whoever be my husband, ’t is not you.

_L. Mayor._ Your tongue is quick; but Master Hammon, know, I bade you welcome to another end.

_Ham._ What, would you have me pule and pine and pray, 40 With “lovely lady,” “mistress of my heart,” “Pardon your servant,” and the rhymer play, Railing on Cupid and his tyrant’s-dart; Or shall I undertake some martial spoil, Wearing your glove at tourney and at tilt,