Read Volpone and Other Plays Online
Authors: Ben Jonson
As I did urge him to it for your good â
CORBACCIO
: He came unto him, did he? I thought so.
MOSCA
: Yes, and presented him this piece of plate.
CORBACCIO
: To be his heir?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I do not know, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â True,
I know it too.
MOSCA
[
aside
]: By your own scale, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Well,
I shall prevent him yet. See, Mosca, look,
Here I have brought a bag of bright chequins,
70Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Will quite weigh down his plate.
MOSCA
[
taking the bag
]:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Yea, marry, sir,
This is true physic, this your sacred medicine;
No talk of opiates to this great
elixir
.
CORBACCIO
: 'Tis
aurum palpabile
, if
not potabile
.
MOSCA
: It shall be ministered to him, in his bowl?
CORBACCIO
: Ay, do, do, do.
MOSCA
:                                        Most blessèd
cordial
!
This will recover him.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Yes, do, do, do.
MOSCA
: I think it were not best, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â What?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â To recover him.
CORBACCIO
: O, no, no, no; by no means.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Why, sir, this
Will work some strange effect if he but feel it.
80Â Â Â Â
CORBACCIO
: 'Tis true, therefore forbear; I'll take my venture;
Give me 't again.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â At no hand. Pardon me.
You shall not do yourself that wrong, sir. I
Will so advise you, you shall have it all.
CORBACCIO
: How?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â All, sir; 'tis your right, your own; no man
Can claim a part; 'tis yours without a rival,
Decreed by destiny.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â How, how, good Mosca?
MOSCA
: I'll tell you, sir. This fit he shall recover â
CORBACCIO
: I do conceive you.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And on first advantage
Of his gained sense, will I re-importune him
90Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Unto the making of his testament,
And show him this.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Good, good.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Tis better yet,
If you will hear, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Yes, with all my heart.
MOSCA
: Now would i counsel you, make home with speed;
There, frame a will, whereto you shall inscribe
My master your sole heir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And disinherit
My son?
MOSCA
: O, sir, the better; for that
colour
Shall make it much more taking.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â O, but colour?
MOSCA
: This will, sir, you shall send it unto me.
Now, when I come to enforce, as I will do,
100Â Â Â Â Â Â Your cares, your watchings, and your many prayers,
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
Upon my master, and made him your heir:
He cannot be so stupid, or stone dead,
But out of conscience and mere gratitude â
CORBACCIO
: He must pronounce me his?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â âTis true.
CORBACCIO:
                                                                 This plot
110Â Â Â Â Â Â Did I think on before.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I do believe it.
CORBACCIO
: Do you not believe it?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Yes, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Mine own project.
MOSCA
: Which, when he hath done, sir â
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Published me his heir?
MOSCA
: And you so certain to survive him â
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ay.
MOSCA
: Being so lusty a man â
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Tis true.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Yes, sirâ
CORBACCIO
: I thought on that too. See, how he should be
The very organ to express my thoughts!
MOSCA
: You have not only done yourself a good â
CORBACCIO
: But multiplied it on my son?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Tis right, sir.
CORBACCIO
: Still my invention.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 'Las, sir! heaven knows
120Â Â Â Â Â Â It hath been all my study, all my care,
(I e'en grow grey withal) how to work things â
CORBACCIO
: I do conceive, sweet Mosca.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â You are he
For whom I labour here.
CORBACCIO:
                                         Ay, do, do, do.
Iâll straight about it.
MOSCA
[
aside
]:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
Rook go with you
, raven !
CORBACCIO
: I know thee honest.
MOSCA
[
aside
]:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â You do lie, sir.
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Andâ
MOSCA
[
aside
]: Your knowledge is no better than your ears, sir.
CORBACCIO
: I do not doubt to be a father to thee.
MOSCA
[
aside
]: Nor I to gull my brother of his blessing.
CORBACCIO
: I may ha'my youth restored to me, why not?
130Â Â Â
MOSCA
[
aside
]: Your worship is a precious ass â
CORBACCIO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â What sayst thou?
MOSCA
: I do desire your worship to make haste, sir.
CORBACCIO
: 'Tis done, 'Tis done, I go.
[
Exit
.]
VOLPONE
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â O, I shall burst!
Let out my sides, let out my sides.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Contain
Your flux of laughter, sir. You know this hope
Is such a bait it covers any hook.
VOLPONE
: 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.
MOSCA
: Alas, sir, I but do as I am taught;
140Â Â Â Â Â Â Follow your grave instructions; give 'em words;
Pour oil into their ears, and send them hence.
VOLPONE
: 'Tis true, 'tis true. What a rare punishment
Is avarice to itself!
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ay, with our help, sir.
VOLPONE
: So many cares, so many maladies,
So many fears attending on old age.
Yea, death so often called on as no wish
Can be more frequent with 'em. Their limbs faint,
Their senses dull, their seeing, hearing, going,
150Â Â Â Â Â Â All dead before them; yea, their very teeth,
Their instruments of eating, failing them;
Yet this is reckoned 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
With charms, like
Ãson
have his youth restored;
And with these thoughts so battens, as if fate
Would be as easily cheated on as he,
And all turns air!
Another knocks
                             Who's that there, now? a third?
160Â Â
MOSCA
: Close to your couch again; I hear his voice.
It is Corvino, our spruce merchant.
VOLPONE
[
lying in bed
]:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Dead.
MOSCA
: Another bout, sir, with your eyes. âwho 's there?
1, VÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â [
Enter
CORVINO
.]
[
MOSCA
]: Signior Corvino! come most wished for! O,
How happy were you, if you knew it, now!
CORVINO
: Why? what? wherein?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The tardy hour is come, sir.
CORVINO
: He is not dead?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Not dead, sir, but as good;
He knows no man.
CORVINO
:Â Â How shall I do then?
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Why, sir?
CORVINO
: I have brought him here a pearl.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 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
, sir?
10Â Â Â Â
CORVINO
: Venice was never owner of the like.
VOLPONE
: Signior Corvino!
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Hark!
VOLPONE
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Signior Corvino!
MOSCA
: He calls you; step and give it him. He is here, sir.
And he has brought you a rich pearl.
CORVINO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â How do you, sir?
Tell him it doubles the twelfth caract.
MOSCA
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Sir,
He cannot understand, his hearing's gone,
And yet it comforts him to see you â
CORVINO
:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Say
I have a diamond for him, too.