# Volpone/Act II Scene I

ACT II. SCENE I.
St. Mark's Place; a retired corner before Corvino's House.
Enter Sir Politick 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, 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, gray-headed project Of knowing men's minds and manners, with Ulysses! But a peculiar humour of my wife's, Laid for this height of Venice, to observe, To quote, to learn the language, and so forth— I hope you travel, sir, with license? Per. Yes. Sir P. I dare the safelier converse——How long, sir, 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 To hear how 'twill 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. This fellow, Does he gull me, trow? or is gull'd? [Aside.] Your name, sir. Sir P. My name is Politick Would-be. Per. O, that speaks him.—[Aside.]. A knight, sir? Sir P. A poor knight, sir. Per. Your lady Lies here in Venice, for intelligence Of tires and fashions, and behaviour, Among the courtezans? the fine lady Would-be? Sir P. Yes, sir; the spider and the bee, oftimes, Suck from one flower. Per. Good sir Politick, I cry you mercy; I have heard much of you: 'Tis true, sir, of your raven. Sir P. On your knowledge? Per. Yes, and your lion's whelping in the Tower. Sir P. Another whelp!
Per. Another, sir. Sir P. Now heaven! 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, 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, 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, 'Twas either sent from Spain, or the archdukes: 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 You thought him not immortal?—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.[Aside. Sir P. Stone dead! 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 Living within the state, and so I held him. Per. Indeed, sir? Sir P. While he lived, in action. He has received weekly intelligence, Upon my knowledge, out of the Low Countries, For all parts of the world, in cabbages; And those dispensed again to ambassadors, In oranges, musk-melons, apricocks, 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. Nay, I've observed him, at your public ordinary, Take his advertisement 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! 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 'twas given out, In policy, by those that did employ him: 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 Their hand in a French plot or two; but they Were so extremely given 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, And now stand fair for fresh employment. Per. 'Heart! This sir Pol will be ignorant of nothing.[Aside. It seems, sir, you know all. Sir P. Not all, sir; but I have some general notions. I do love 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 Myself in no small tie 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 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 cried Italian to me, taught me. Sir P. Why this it is that spoils all our brave bloods, Trusting our hopeful gentry unto pedants, Fellows of outside, and mere bark. You seem To be a gentlemen, of ingenuous race:— I not profess it, but my fate hath been To be, where I have been consulted with In this high kind, touching some great men's sons, Persons of blood and honour.—
Enter Mosca and Nano disguised, followed by persons with materials for erecting a Stage.
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 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. 'Tis worth it, sir.
Volp. Most noble gentlemen, and my worthy patrons! It may seems strange, that I, your Scoto Mantuano, who was ever wont to fix my bank in face of the public Piazza, near the shelter of the Portico to the Procuratia, should now, after eight months absence from 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 content to part with my commodities at a cheaper rate, than I accustomed: look not for it. Nor that the calumnious reports of that impudent detractor, and shame to our profession, (Alessandro Buttone, I mean,) who gave out, in public, I was condemned a sforzato to the galleys, for poisoning the cardinal Bembo's — cook, hath at all attached, much less dejected me. No, no, worthy gentlemen; to tell you true, I cannot endure to see the rabble of these ground ciarlitani, 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 Baccacio, like stale Tabarine, the fabulist: some of them discoursing their travels, and of their tedious captivity in the Turks gallies, when, indeed, were the truth known, they were the Christians gallies, where very temperately they eat bread, and drunk water, as a wholesome penance, enjoined them by their confessors, for base pilferies.
Sir P. Note but his bearing, and contempt of these.
Volp. These turdy-facy-nasty-paty-lousy-fartical rogues, with one poor groat's-worth of unprepared antimony, finely wrapt up in several scartoccios, are able, very well, to kill their twenty a week, and play; yet, these meagre, starved spirits, who have half stopt the organs of their minds with earthy oppilations, want not their favourers among your shrivell'd sallad-eating artizans, who are overjoyed that they may have their half-pe'rth of physic; though it purge them into another world, it makes no matter.
Sir P. Excellent! have you heard better language, sir.
Volp. Well, let them go. And, gentlemen, honourable gentlemen, know, that for this time, our bank, being thus removed from the clamours of the canaglia, shall be the scene of pleasure and delight; for I have nothing 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 as it is fetch'd away from my lodging by gentlemen of your city; strangers of the Terra-firma; worshipful merchants; ay, and senators too: who, ever since my arrival, have detained me to their uses, by their splendidous liberalities. 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 nothing but water cocted 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—
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 apply to the place affected: see what good effect it can work. No, no, 'tis this blessed unguento, this rare extraction, that ​hath only power to disperse all malignant humours, that proceed either of hot, cold, moist, or windy causes—
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 a warm napkin to the place, after the unction and fricace;—for the vertigine in the head, putting but a drop into your nostrils, likewise behind the ears; a most sovereign and approved remedy: the mal caduco, cramps, convulsions, paralysies, epilepsies, tremor-cordia, retired nerves, ill vapours of the spleen, stopping of the liver, the stone, the strangury, hernia ventosa, iliaca passio; stops a dysenteria immediately; easeth the torsion of the small guts; and cures melancholia hypondriaca, being taken and applied, according to my printed receipt. [pointing to his bill and his vial.] For, this is the physician, this the medicine; this counsels, this cures; this gives the direction, this works the effect; and, in sum, both together may be termed an abstract of the theorick and practick in the Æsculapian art. 'Twill cost you eight crowns. And,—Zan Fritada, prithee sing a verse extempore in honour of it.
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 books.
Nano sings.
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, surnamed Oglio del Scoto; with the countless catalogue of those I have cured of the aforesaid, and many more diseases; the patents and privileges of all the princes and commonwealths of Christendom; or but the depositions of those that appeared on my part, before the signiory of the Sanita and most learned College of Physicians; where I was authorized, 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 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, and as experimented receipts as yours: indeed, very many have assayed, like apes, in imitation of that, which is really and essentially in me, to make of this oil; bestowed great cost in furnaces, stills, alembecks, 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, blow, blow, puff, puff, and all flies in fumo: ha, ha, ha! Poor wretches! I rather pity their folly and indiscretion, than their ​loss of time and money; for these may be recovered by industry: but to be a fool born, is a disease incurable.
For myself, I always from my youth have endeavoured to get the rarest secrets, and book them, either in exchange, or for money: I spared nor cost nor labour, where any thing was worthy to be learned. And, gentlemen, honourable gentlemen, I will undertake, by virtue of chemical art, out of the honourable hat that covers your head, to extract the four elements; that is to say, the fire, air, water, and earth, and return you your felt without burn or stain. For, whilst others have been at the Balloo, 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.
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 valued this ampulla, or vial, at less than eight crowns; but for this time, I am content to be deprived 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 of you a thousand crowns, so the cardinals Montalto, Fernese, the great duke of Tuscany, my gossip, with divers other princes, have ​given me; but I despise money. Only to shew my affection to you, honourable gentlemen, and your illustrious State here, I have neglected the messages of these princes, mine own offices, framed my journey hither, only to present you with the fruits of my travels.—Tune 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, Some three-pence in the whole! for that 'twill come to.
Nano sings.
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 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 moccinigo. 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,—that I will have, only, a pledge of your loves, to carry something from amongst you, to shew I am not contemn'd by you. Therefore, now, toss your handkerchiefs, cheerfully, cheerfully; and be advertised, that the first heroic spirit that deigns to grace me with a handkerchief, I will give it a little remembrance of something, beside, shall please it better, than if I had presented it with a double pistolet.
Per. Will you be that heroic spark, sir Pol? [Celia at a window above, throws down her handkerchief. O, see! the window has prevented you.
Volp. Lady, I kiss your bounty; and for 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 for ever enamour'd on that minute, wherein your eye first descended on so mean, yet not altogether to be despised, 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; 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 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 derived to Helen, and at the sack of Troy unfortunately lost: till now, in this our age, it was as happily recovered, by a studious antiquary, out of some ruins of Asia, who sent a moiety of it to the court of France, (but much 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; seats your teeth, did they dance like virginal jacks, firm as a wall; makes them white as ivory, that were black as——
Enter Corvino.
Cor. Spight 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, To make your properties, but mine? but mine? [Beats away Volpone, Nano, &c. Heart! ere to-morrow I shall be new-christen'd, And call'd the Pantalone di Besogniosi, About the town. Per. What should this mean, sir Pol? Sir P. Some trick of state, believe it; I will home. Per. It may be some design on you. Sir P. I know not. I'll stand upon my guard.
Per. It is your best, 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, I may not lose him, for my mirth, till night. [Exeunt.
* ↑ To quote, &c.] To quote, is to notice, to write down. Thus Polonius: "I'm sorry that with better heed and judgment I had not quoted him." And thus Webster, in the White Devil, "It is reported you possess a book Wherein you have quoted by intelligence, The names of all offenders." The triumph of Sir Politick over poor Ulysses, is an excellent trait of character.
* ↑ The celebrated sir Henry Wotton. Coryat found "his lordship" here, he says, in 1608, and experienced "much kindness at his hands." He was introduced to sir Henry, by Mr. Richard Martin (the person to whom Jonson dedicated the Poetaster) in a letter which plays upon the simple vanity of our traveller, in a most arch and entertaining manner.
* ↑ Another whelp!] The birth of the first is thus gravely recorded by Stow: "Sunday, the fifth of August (1604), a lionesse, named Elizabeth, in the Tower of London, brought foorth a lyons whelpe, which lyons whelpe lived not longer then till the next day." The other, which is spoken of here, was whelped, as Stow also carefully informs us, on the 25th of February, 1606.—As the former had lived so short a time, James ordered this to be taken from the dam, and brought up by hand; by which wise mode of management, the animal was speedily dispatched after his brother. These were the first whelps produced, in a tame state, in this country, and perhaps in Europe.
* ↑ Were there three porpoises seen above the bridge, &c.] This prodigy, and that of the appearance of the whale at Woolwich, mentioned just below, are duly noticed by Stow: "The 19th of January (1605), a great porpus was taken alive at Westham,—and within a few days after, a very great whale came up as high as Woolwich; and when she tasted the fresh water, and sented the land, she returned into the sea." p. 881. The references to the remaining prodigies, I have (fortunately for the reader's patience) mislaid, or overlooked among my notes.
* ↑ Is Mass Stone dead?] In the margin of his copy, Whalley has written "Mass, an abridgment of Master." The thing scarcely deserved a note; but he is wrong: Mass is an abridgment of Messer, an old Italian word, familiarly applied to a priest, or person above the lower rank of life. I have already alluded to the castigation of Mass Stone: the following passage relating to him is curious. On the expensive preparations for the earl of Northampton's embassy to Spain, Sir Dudley Carlton thus writes to Mr. Winwood. "My Lord Admiral's number is 500, and he swears 500 oaths he will not admit of one man more. But if he will stand to that rule, and take in one as another will desire to be discharged, in my opinion, all men's turn will be served. There was great execution done lately upon Stone the fool, who was well whipped in Bridewell, for a blasphemous speech, "that there went sixty fools into Spaine, besides my Lord Admiral and his two sons." But he is now at liberty again, and for this unexpected release, gives his lordship the praise of a very pittiful lord. His comfort is, that the news of El Senor Piedra (i. e. Seignior Stone) will be in Spaine before our embassador." Winwood's Memorials, Vol. II. p. 52.
* ↑ He has received weekly intelligence, Out of the Low Countries, in cabbages;] This is not an expression thrown out at random. Cabbages were not originally the growth of England; but about this time were sent to us from Holland, and so became the product of our kitchen-gardens. I mention this circumstance, trifling as it seems, because it serves to point out that propriety and decorum, which so strongly mark the character of Jonson. Whal. "'Tis scarce an hundred years," says Evelyn, in his Discourse of Sallets, 1706, "since we first had cabbages out of Holland, Sir Arth. Ashley, of Wiburg St. Giles, in Dorsetshire, being, as I am told, the first who planted them in England."
* ↑ Which he that cried Italian to me, taught me.] "Some learned gentlemen," proposed, (as Mr. Whalley informs us,) to "correct" the text here, and alter cried to read. "If chiamare (says one of these "learned gentlemen," who appears to be poor Sympson) "had been used in the sense of indoltrinare, I should have liked it much!" This is not a bad specimen of the manner in which notes on our old poets are sometimes composed. Utterly unacquainted with the style and idiom of foreign languages, the commentators run to their dictionaries, and with great labour pick out just enough to expose their own ignorance, and mislead the unlearned reader. Sympson knew that clamare was to cry:—but he wanted the Italian synonym, he therefore turns to chiamare, and boldly produces it at once, as an equivalent to the English word cry, though it merely means to call! We have too many Sympsons now-a-days. To return to Jonson. He had certainly heard enough of Italian to be sensible that it was read with a kind of musical intonation; and this is just what he means. Peregrine's language is purposely affected, to set off the simplicity of Sir Politick.
* ↑ Fellows of outside, and mere bark] This, as Upton observes, is a Greek phrase; Θλοιωδης ό ανηρ, Long. sect. 3. Daniel has the same expression, in his Hymen's Triumph: "And never let her think on me, who am "But e'en the bark and outside of a man."
* ↑ They are most lewd impostors;] i. e. ignorant, unlearned. The old and approved sense of the word. Thus Chaucer: "And as leude pepill demith commonlie"Of thingis, that ben made more subtilie"Then thei can in ther leudness comprehend."Squier's Tale, 241.
* ↑ Scoto of Mantua, sir.] I know not whether Jonson had any contemporary quack in view here. The name he has taken from an Italian juggler who was in England about this time, and exhibited petty feats of legerdemain. See the Epigrams. Our poet was a great reader and admirer of the facetious fopperies of a former age; and I am strongly inclined to think that he intended to imitate Andrew Borde, a physician of reputation in Henry VIII's time, who used to frequent fairs and markets, and there address himself to the people. Here is an evident imitation of his language. "He would make," Hearne says, "humorous speeches, couched in such language as caused mirth, and wonderfully propagated his fame." But Borde was a man of learning, and knew how to deal with the vulgar. He travelled much, to perfect himself in physic. Antony Wood says that Borde was esteemed "a noted poet, a witty and ingeniose person, and an excellent physician of his time." Ath. Ox. V. I. 74. Having a rambling head and an inconstant mind, he travelled over a great part of Christendom, and finally concluded his vagaries and his life, as many other "ingeniose persons" have done, in the Fleet, in 1549.
* ↑ These ground ciarliatni, &c.] These ground ciarlitani (petty charlatans, impostors, babblers) are to be found in Italy at this hour, occupied precisely as they were in the days of Scoto Mantuano. Coryat gives a similar account of them: "I have seen," he says, some of them stand upon the ground when they tell their tales, which are such as they commonly call ciaratanoes, or ciarlatans. The principal place where they act, is the first part of St. Mark's-street." These tales, or recitations, it should be observed, are merely to draw the people together; and always terminate with the production of some trumpery articles for sale.
* ↑ Like stale Tabarine, the fabulist:] This Tabarin, who is mentioned by Boileau, in his "Art of Poetry," "Apollon travesti devint un Tabarin," and, again, in his "Critical Reflections," was, as his annotators inform us, a celebrated jack-pudding in the service of one Mondor: "Ce Mondor étoit un charlatan, ou vendeur du beaume, qui établissoit son théatre dans la Place Dauphine, vers le commencement du xvii siècle. Il rouloit aussi dans les autres villes du roiaume avec Tabarin, le bouffon de sa troupe. Les plaisanteries de Tabarin out été imprimées plusieurs fois à Paris et à Lyons.—Elles ne peuvent plaire qu'à la canaille."
* ↑ Scartoccios,] i. e. covers, folds of paper; whence our cartouch.
* ↑ Terra-firma;] It may be just worth while to notice, that the Venetians distinguish their continental possessions by this expression.
* ↑ But alchemy, I never heard the like; or Broughton's books, &c.] i. e. except alchemy, &c. The reader will understand the force of this, when he comes to the next volume. Broughton was a man of very considerable learning, particularly in the Hebrew; but disputatious, scurrilous, extravagant, and incomprehensible. He was engaged in controversy during the greatest part of his life. So common a circumstance scarcely deserved notice; yet there was this peculiarity in Broughton's case, namely, that he should find people to contest what must have been equally unintelligible to all parties. See the Alchemist.
* ↑ Nor Raymund Lully's great elixir.] Lully was a celebrated character of the fourteenth century. He was born in Majorca, and studied what was then termed natural philosophy, i. e. the transmutation of metals, &c. In this he was very successful; having, as everyone knows, discovered the philosopher's stone, and above all, the great elixir, or drink of immortality. Thus secured against poverty and death, he turned beggar, hermit, missionary, and, finally, lost his life by an unlucky blow, while preaching to the wild inhabitants of Mount Atlas. In a credulous age, and while men obstinately shut their eyes to conviction, Lully enjoyed an extraordinary degree of reputation. He is now deservedly forgotten. The following distich on him, is as old as Zan Fritada's song: Qui Lulli lapidem quœrit, quem quœrere nulli Profuit; haud Lullus, sed mihi Nullus erit.
* ↑ The Danish Gonswart,] Having no acquaintance with the Danish Gonswart, I cannot give the reader his history. Whal. I regret to say, that I am equally unable to assist him: though my researches have been pretty extensive.
* ↑ Or Paracelsus with his long sword.] For Paracelsus, see the Alchemist. I cannot account for the introduction of the long sword, which yet must have been popular; for it is mentioned also by Fletcher: "Were Paracelsus the German now living, he (Forobosco) would take up his single rapier against his horrible long sword." Fair Maid of the Land, A. IV. Perhaps the allusion is to some print of Paracelsus, who, as he was certainly present at many sieges and battles, might choose to be represented with this formidable appendage to his physician's cloak. It must not be forgotten, that Paracelsus always carried a familiar or demon in the hilt of this celebrated long sword; so that it was not without its use.
* ↑ at the Balloo,] This play, in which a huge ball is drive forward by a flat piece of wood, fastened to the arm, is still much practised on the continent. It is mentioned in Eastward Hoe! "We had a match at baloon too, with my lord Whackum, for four crowns." A. I. The Mall takes its name from this game, (pasle maile, Fr.) which was often played there by the cavaliers who returned with Charles II. from France.
* ↑ The great duke of Tuscany, my gossip,] i. e. my godfather. "Godsib, now pronounced gossip. Our Christian ancestors understanding a spirituall affinitie to grow between the parents and such as undertook for the chyld at baptisme, called each other by the name of godsib, which is as much as to say, as that they were sib together, that is, of kin together through God. And the chyld in like manner called such, his godfathers or god-mothers," &c. Verstegan. Restitution of decayed Intelligence, &c. p. 223.
* ↑ Is here to get some three or four gazettes?] Peregrine is not in the secret: Volpone sins out his harangue in order to increase the chance of getting a sight of Celia. A gazette is a small Venetian coin, worth about three farthings; and as this was the usual price given for the news-papers, the name of the coin was afterwards transferred to be the name of the news-paper itself. Whal. These news-papers, as Whalley calls them, were merely loose slips of paper, on which the occurrences of the day were written. There were no printed gazettes, as he seems to think.
* ↑ Here's a med'cine for the nones,] i. e. for the present occasion; for the immediate purpose. It is impossible to reflect without scorn on the elaborate attempts to explain the origin of this most simple and common expression. To say nothing of the Dii minores, even Tyrwhitt, who, when he mixes with the commentators on Shakspeare is no longer recognisable, gravely tells us that the phrase "was originally a corruption of corrupt Latin." Thus, says he, from pro nunc came for the nunc, and so for the nonce; just as from ad nunc came anon! This, it must be confessed, is sufficiently foolish: but by what terms shall we characterize the stupendous absurdity of Mr. Chalmers? "The expression (he says) is local." It is as universal as the language. "This word (he continues) is probably derived from the Fr. nonce, a nuncio, the prelate whom the pope used to send for his special purposes." Glossary to Lyndsay. For the nonce is simply for the once, for the one thing in question, whatever it be. This is invariably its meaning. The aptitude of many of our monosyllables beginning with a vowel, to assume the n is well known; but the progress of this expression is distinctly marked in our early writers, "a ones," "an anes," "for the ones," "for the nanes." "for the nones," "for the nonce." Shall we have any more repetitions of pro nunc," and "pro nuntio, the prelate?" I am not without my fears; for, as I lately had occasion to observe, the race of Ding-dong's sheep is far from being extinct.
* ↑ No, nor a moccinigo.] A moccinigo, as Florio informs us in his Worlde of Wordes, is "a kinde of small coyne used in Venice." It is worth about nine-pence.
* ↑ A bagatine.] A bagatine, he says, is "a little coyne used in Italie." It is about the third part of a farthing.
* ↑ ————I shall be new christen'd, And call'd the Pantalone di Besogniosi,] i. e. the zany or fool of the beggars. Such, at least, is the vulgar import of the words; but Jonson probably affixed a more opprobrious sense to them.