Volpone and Other Plays (17 page)

In varying figures I would have contended

With the blue Proteus, or the
hornèd flood
.

Now, art thou welcome.

CELIA
:                                     Sir!

VOLPONE
:                                    Nay, fly me not,

Nor let thy false imagination

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,

160      At recitation of our comedy,

For entertainment of the great Valois,

I acted young Antinous, and attracted

The eyes and ears of all the ladies present,

T' admire each graceful gesture, note, and footing.

SONG

Come, my Celia, let us prove,

While we can, the sports of love;

Time will not be ours forever,

He, at length, our good will sever;

170                          Spend not then his gifts in vain.

Suns that set may rise again;

But if once we lose this light,

'Tis with us perpetual night.

Why should we defer our joys?

Fame and rumour are but toys.

Cannot we delude the eyes

Of a few poor household spies?

Or his easier ears beguile,

Thus removèd by our wile?

180                          'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal,

But the sweet thefts to reveal:

To be taken, to be seen,

These have crimes accounted been.

CELIA
: Some
serene
blast me, or dire lightning strike

This my offending face.

VOLPONE
:                            Why droops my Celia?

Thou hast in place of a base husband found

A worthy lover; use thy fortune well,

With secrecy and pleasure. See, behold,

What thou art queen of; not in expectation,

190      As I feed others, but possessed and crowned.

See, here, a rope of pearl, and each
more orient

Than that the brave Egyptian queen caroused;

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

That were the spoils of provinces; take these,

And wear, and lose 'em; yet remains an ear-ring

To purchase them again, and this whole state.

200      A gem but worth a private patrimony

Is nothing: we will eat such at a meal.

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.

CELIA
: Good sir, these things might move a mind affected

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,

210      Cannot be taken with these sensual baits.

If you have conscience –

VOLPONE
:                               'Tis the beggar's virtue.

If thou hast wisdom, hear me, Celia.

Thy baths shall be the juice of July-flowers,

Spirit of roses, and of violets,

The milk of unicorns, and panthers' breath

Gathered in bags and mixed with Cretan wines.

Our drink shall be prepared gold and amber,

Which we will take until my roof whirl round

With the vertigo; and my dwarf shall dance,

220      My eunuch sing, my fool make up the
antic
.

Whilst we, in changèd 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.

Then will I have thee in more modern forms,

Attirèd like some sprightly dame of France,

Brave Tuscan lady, or proud Spanish beauty;

Sometimes unto the Persian Sophy's wife,

230      Or the
Grand Signior's mistress;
and, for change,

To one of our most artful courtesans,

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,

That the curious shall not know

How to tell them as they flow;

And the envious, when they find

What their number is, be pined.

240  
CELIA
: If you have ears that will be pierced, or eyes

That can be opened, a heart may be touched,

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 betrayed

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,

250      (It is a vice comes nearer manliness)

And punish that unhappy crime of nature,

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

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 –

260  
VOLPONE
:                                    Think me cold,

Frozen, and impotent, and so report me?

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 parleyed.

Yield, or I'll force thee.

[
He seizes her
.]

CELIA
                                    O! just God!

VOLPONE
:                                                    In vain –

BONARIO
: Forbear, foul ravisher! libidinous swine!

He leaps out from where
M
OSCA
had placed him
.

Free the forced lady, or thou diest, impostor.

But that I am loath to snatch thy punishment

270      Out of the hand of justice, thou shouldst yet

Be made the timely sacrifice of vengeance,

Before this altar, and this dross, thy idol.

Lady, let's quit the place, it is the den

Of villainy; fear nought, you have a guard;

And he ere long shall meet his just reward.

[
Exeunt
BONARIO
and
CELIA
.]

VOLPONE
: Fall on me, roof, and bury me in ruin!

Become my grave, that wert my shelter! O!

I am unmasked, unspirited, undone,

Betrayed to beggary, to infamy –

III, Viii   [
Enter
MOSCA
,
wounded and bleeding
.]

[
MOSCA
:] Where shall I run, most wretched shame of men,

To beat out my unlucky brains?

VOLPONE
:                                               Here, here.

What! dost thou bleed?

MOSCA
:                                  O, that his well-driven sword

Had been so courteous to have cleft me down

Unto the navel, ere I lived to see

My life, my hopes, my spirits, my patron, all

Thus desperately engagèd by my error.

VOLPONE
: Woe on thy fortune!

MOSCA
:                                       And my follies, sir.

VOLPONE
: Th' hast made me miserable.

MOSCA
:                                                     And myself, sir.

10        Who would have thought he would have hearkened so?

VOLPONE
: What shall we do?

MOSCA
:                                             I know not; if my heart

Could expiate the mischance, I'd pluck it out.

Will you be pleased to hang me, or cut my throat?

And I'll requite you, sir. Let's the like Romans,

Since we have lived like Grecians.

They knock without
.

VOLPONE
:                                   Hark! who's there?

I hear some footing; officers, the
Saffi
,

Come to apprehend us! I do feel
the brand

Hissing already at my forehead; now,

Mine ears are
boring
.

MOSCA
:                              To your couch, sir; you

20        Make that place good, however. Guilty men

Suspect what they deserve still.

[
MOSCA
admits
CORBACCIO
.]

                              Signior Corbaccio!

III, ix   [
CORBACCIO
:] Why, how now, Mosca?

MOSCA
:                                                     O, undone, amazed, sir.

Your son, I know not by what accident,

Acquainted with your purpose to my patron,

Touching your will, and making him your heir,

Entered our house with violence, his sword drawn,

Sought for you, called you wretch, unnatural,

Vowed he would kill you.

CORBACCIO
:                             Me?

MOSCA
:                                          Yes, and my patron.

CORBACCIO
: This act shall disinherit him indeed.

Here is the will.

MOSCA
:                    'Tis well, sir.

CORBACCIO
:                                 Right and well.

Be you as careful now for me.

[
Enter
VOLTORE
,
behind
.]

10    
MOSCA
:                                              My life, sir,

Is not more tendered; I am only yours.

CORBACCIO
: How does he? Will he the shortly, think'st thou?

MOSCA
:                                                                I fear

He'll outlast May.

CORBACCIO
:                         Today?

MOSCA
[
shouting
]:                         No, last out May, sir.

CORBACCIO
: Couldst thou not gi' him a dram?

MOSCA
:                                                              O, by no means, sir.

CORBACCIO
: Nay, I'll not bid you.

VOLTORE
:                                      This is a knave, I see.

MOSCA
[
aside
]: How! Signior Voltore! Did he hear me?

VOLTORE
:                                                                               Parasite!

MOSCA
: Who's that? O, sir, most timely welcome.

VOLTORE
:                                                                  Scarce

To the discovery of your tricks, I fear.

You are his, only? And mine, also, are you not?

[
CORBACCIO
stands aside
.]

20  
MOSCA
: Who? I, sir?

VOLTORE
:                  You, sir. what device is this

About a will?

MOSCA
:               A plot for you, sir.

VOLTORE
:                                         Come,

Put not your foists upon me; I shall scent 'em.

MOSCA
: Did you not hear it?

VOLTORE
:                                Yes, I hear Corbaccio

Hath made your patron there his heir.

MOSCA
:                                                            'Tis true,

By my device, drawn to it by my plot,

With hope –

VOLTORE
:   Your patron should reciprocate?