# Volpone/Act V Scene I

ACT V. SCENE I.
A Room in Volpone's House.
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 'twas good, in private; But in your public,—cave whilst I breathe. '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 villainous disease, Should they come thick upon me: I'll prevent 'em. Give me a bowl of lusty wine, to fright
This humour from my heart. [Drinks.]—hum, hum, hum! 'Tis almost gone already; I shall conquer. Any device, now, of rare ingenious knavery, That would possess me with a violent laughter, Would make me up again. [Drinks again.]—So, so, so, so! This heat is life; 'tis blood by this time:—Mosca!
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 carried learnedly? Volp. And stoutly: Good wits are greatest in extremities. Mos. It were a 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: 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 master-piece; We cannot think to go beyond this. Volp. True. Thou hast play'd thy prize, my precious Mosca. Mos. Nay, sir, 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 hast borne it! That these, being so divided 'mongst themselves, 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 them, I think. Each of them Is so possest and stuft with his own hopes, That any thing unto the contrary, 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 Have any glebe more fruitful than these fellows I am deceived. 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 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; Never, but still my self. Mos. I think it, sir. Now, so truth help me, I must needs say this, sir And out of conscience for your advocate,
He has taken pains, in faith, sir, and deserv'd, In my poor judgment, I speak it under favour, Not to contrary you, sir, very richly— Well—to be cozen'd. Volp. Troth, and I think so too, By that I heard him, in the latter end. Mos. O, but before, sir: had you heard him first Draw it to certain heads, then aggravate, Then use his vehement figures—I look'd still When he would shift a shirt: and, doing this Out of pure love, no hope of gain—— Volp. 'Tis right. I cannot answer him Mosca, as I would, Not yet; but for thy sake, at thy entreaty, I will begin, even now—to vex them all, This very instant. Mos. Good sir. Volp. Call the dwarf And eunuch forth. Mos. Castrone, Nano!
Enter Castrone and Nano.
Nano. Here. Volp. Shall we have a jig now? Mos. What you please, sir. Volp. Go, Straight give out about the streets, you two, That I am dead; do it with constancy, Sadly, do you hear? impute it to the grief Of this late slander.[Exeunt Cast. and Nano. Mos. What do you mean, sir? Volp. O, I shall have instantly my Vulture, Crow, Raven, come flying hither, on the news, To peck for carrion, my she-wolf, and all, Greedy, and full of expectation— Mos. And then to have it ravish'd from their mouths! Volp. 'Tis true. I will have thee put on a gown, And take upon thee, as thou wert mine heir; Shew them a Will: Open that chest, and reach Forth one of those that has the blanks; I'll straight Put in thy name. Mos. It will be rare, sir.[Gives him a paper. Volp. Ay, When they ev'n gape, and find themselves deluded— Mos. Yes. Volp. And thou use them scurvily! Dispatch, get on thy gown.
Mos. [putting on a gown.] But what, sir, if they ask After the body? Volp. Say, it was corrupted. Mos. I'll say, it stunk, sir; and was fain to have it Coffin'd up instantly, and sent away. Volp. Any thing; what thou wilt. Hold, here's my Will. Get thee a cap, a count-book, pen and ink, Papers afore thee; sit as thou wert taking An inventory of parcels: I'll get up Behind the curtain, on a stool, and hearken; Sometime peep over, see how they do look, With what degrees their blood doth leave their faces. O, 'twill afford me a rare meal of laughter! Mos. [putting on a cap, and setting out the table, &c.] Your advocate will turn stark dull upon it. Volp. It will take off his oratory's edge. Mos. But your clarissimo, old round-back, he Will crump you like a hog-louse, with the touch. Volp. And what Corvino? Mos. O, sir, look for him, To-morrow morning, with a rope and dagger, To visit all the streets; he must run mad. My lady too, that came into the court, To bear false witness for your worship— Volp. Yes, And 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 The most deformed, and restores them lovely,
As 'twere the strange poetical girdle. Jove Could not invent t' himself a shroud more subtle To pass Acrisius' guards. It is the thing Makes all the world her grace, her youth, her beauty. Volp. I think she loves me. Mos. Who? the lady, sir? She's jealous of you. Volp. Dost thou say so?[Knocking within. Mos. Hark, There's some already. Volp. Look. Mos. It is the Vulture; He has the quickest scent. Volp. I'll to my place, Thou to thy posture.[Goes behind the curtain. Mos. I am set. Volp. But, Mosca, Play the artificer now, torture them rarely.
Enter Voltore.
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. 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. [peeping over the curtain.] Ay, now they muster. Corv. What does the advocate here, 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 shew it these, and rid them hence. Mos. Six chests of diaper, four of damask.—There. [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, 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 has heard of some strange storm, a ship is lost, 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? Mos. The other, mother of pearl—I am 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 perfumed box—'Pray you forbear, You see I'm troubled—made of an onyx— Lady P. How! 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, Remember what your ladyship offer'd 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, For fear I tell some riddles; go, be melancholy. [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 the example. Why should you stay here? with what thought, what promise? 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 declared cuckold, on good terms? This pearl, You'll say, was yours? right: this diamond? 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: Go home, be melancholy too, or mad. [Exit Corvino. Volp. Rare Mosca! how his villainy 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; Harlot, thou 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 grovelling nose, and would have hired Me to the poisoning of my patron, sir? Are not you he that have to-day in court Profess'd the disinheriting of your son? Perjured yourself? Go home, and die, and stink; 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 you'll be thus troublesome. 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 grieved for you, That any chance of mine should thus defeat Your (I must needs say) most deserving travails: 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,) Will never let you want, while there are men, And malice, to breed causes. 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, I will make bold with your obstreperous aid, Conceive me,—for your fee, sir. In mean time,
* ↑ Fore God, my left leg 'gan to have the cramp, And I apprehended straight some power had struck me With a dead palsy:] Alluding to a piece of ancient superstition, that all sudden consternations of mind, and sudden pains of the body, such as cramps, palpitations of the heart, &c. were ominous, and presages of evil. Hence we may explain, as Mr. Upton remarks, a passage in Plautus's Miles Gloriosus: Schel.Timeo quod rerum gesserim hic, ita dorsus totus prurit. And in his Bacchides, Nicobulus says, Caput prurit, perii. Whal. This note, the whole of which Whalley took from Upton, is carefully retained in his corrected copy. That two men of learning (for Whalley was also a scholar) should fall into such absurdities, is truly pitiable. Volpone, by lying so long immovable in his constrained situation, naturally begins to feel the cramp: this, he fears, magnified by his guilt, represent as the commencement of a divine punishment. Such is the plain sense of the passage.
* ↑ Each of them Is so possest, &c] These touches are skilful in the extreme. They are natural in the speaker, and at the same time the best explanation and defence of the plot of the Drama.
* ↑ ————I look'd still When he would shift a shirt;] Through the violence of action, accompanying his eloquence. The modern Italian preachers are known to use great vehemence of gesture in their declamatory harangues; and perhaps it may be equally so with the advocates at the bar. Nor was it otherwise with the advocates of old: the death of the great orator Hortensius was occasioned by a cold he got, after pleading with his usual energy and warmth in behalf of a client.Whal. Could Whalley have heard the Neapolitan "advocates" of the present day plead the cause of an ass-driver, or a basket-woman, where the value of the whole matter in dispute (grapes or apples) frequently falls short of three-pence, he would have found his conjecture amply verified. The fees which stimulate the supernatural exertions of these "poor rags" of the law, are not unworthy of the magnificent questions agitated. The siccus petasunculus et vas Pelamidum, which, in Juvenal's days, rewarded the toil and skill of their learned predecessors, are now seldom heard of. The joint labours of the whole fraternity would scarcely be estimated at the price of the humblest of such dainties.
* ↑ Shall we have a jig now?] A piece of low humour, a farce; such as that which he immediately proposes.
* ↑ Sadly, do you hear?] Not sorrowfully; but with a confirmed and serious countenance. See Vol. II. p. 465.
* ↑ ————it transforms The most deformed, and restores them lovely, As 'twere the strange poetical girdle.] This is from the dialogue of Lucian, already quoted: Μεταποιει τας αμορφοτερας ώσπερ ό ποιητικος εκεινος κεςος.Whal. The allusion in the next line is to the well-known fable of Danaë, the daughter of Acrisius.
* ↑ Bid him eat lettuce well.]—as a soporific. "Did I eat any lettuce to supper, last night, that I am so sleepy?" Green's Tu Queque. And Pope, ————"if your point be rest,"Lettuce, and cowslip-wine; probatum est."