Volpone - Ben Jonson (best sales books of all time TXT) 📗

besides! 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 humbled for an oath!

SIR P: I reach you not.

LADY P: Right, sir, your policy May bear it through, thus. [TO PER.] sir, a word with you. I would be loth to contest publicly With any gentlewoman, or to seem Froward, or violent, as the courtier says; 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, And one she knows not, ay, and to persever; 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. 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?

SIR P: The gentleman, believe it, is of worth, And of our nation.

LADY P: Ay, your White-friars nation. Come, I blush for you, master Would-be, I; And am asham’d you should have no more forehead, Than thus to be the patron, or St. George, To a lewd harlot, a base fricatrice, A female devil, in a male outside.

SIR P: Nay, And 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 your state-face!— But for your carnival concupiscence, Who here is fled for liberty of conscience, From furious persecution of the marshal, Her will I dis’ple.

PER: This is fine, i’faith! And do you use this often? Is this part Of your wit’s exercise, ‘gainst you have occasion? 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? 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.

LADY P: This cannot be endur’d by any patience.

[ENTER MOSCA.]

MOS: What is the matter, madam?

LADY P: If the Senate Right not my quest in this; I’ll protest them To all the world, no aristocracy.

MOS: What is the injury, lady?

LADY P: Why, the callet You told me of, here I have ta’en disguised.

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.

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 have not the malice to remember A gentlewoman’s passion. If you stay 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 Politick Would-be? no; sir Politick Bawd. To bring me thus acquainted with his wife! Well, wise sir Pol, since you have practised thus Upon my freshman-ship, I’ll try your salt-head, What proof it is against a counter-plot.

[EXIT.]

SCENE 4.2.

THE SCRUTINEO, OR SENATE-HOUSE.

ENTER VOLTORE, CORBACCIO, CORVINO, AND MOSCA.

VOLT: Well, now you know the carriage of the business, Your constancy is all that is required Unto the safety of it.

MOS: Is the lie Safely convey’d amongst us? is that sure? Knows every man his burden?

CORV: Yes.

MOS: Then shrink not.

CORV: But knows the advocate the truth?

MOS: O, sir, By no means; I devised 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! Hang him; we will but use his tongue, his noise, As we do croakers here.

CORV: Ay, what shall he do?

MOS: When we have done, you mean?

CORV: Yes.

MOS: Why, we’ll think: Sell him for mummia; he’s half dust already. [TO VOLTORE.] Do not you smile, to see this buffalo, How he does sport it with his head? [ASIDE.] —I should, If all were well and past. [TO CORBACCIO.] —Sir, 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. Much! [ASIDE.] [TO VOLTORE.] —Worshipful sir, Mercury sit upon your thundering 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, have done.

MOS: I have another witness, if you need, sir, I can produce.

VOLT: Who is it?

MOS: Sir, I have her.

[ENTER 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: ‘Twill 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.

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 To exceed example!

1 AVOC: And all after-times!

2 AVOC: I never heard a true voluptuary Discribed, 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: What are you?

BON: His parasite, His knave, his pandar—I beseech the court, He may be forced 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.

2 AVOC: Bring him, however.

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; 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 abused ears, 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 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 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 accused. For these not knowing how to owe a gift Of that dear grace, but with their shame; being placed So above all powers of their gratitude, Began to hate the benefit; and, in place Of thanks, devise to extirpe the memory Of such an act: wherein I pray your fatherhoods To observe the malice, yea, the rage of creatures Discover’d in their evils; and what heart Such take, even 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, And grieved 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.

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 Appointed for the deed; that parricide, I cannot style him better, by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Enter’d Volpone’s house, (who was the man, Your fatherhoods must understand, design’d 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! 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 ever end where it begins) An act of horror, fathers! he dragg’d forth 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 to his forged practice, who was glad To be so active,—(I shall here desire 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, 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 honoured fathers, I humbly crave there be no credit given To this man’s mercenary tongue.

2 AVOC: Forbear.

BON: His soul moves in his fee.

3 AVOC: O, sir.

BON: This fellow, For six sols 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 That he will spare his accuser, that would not Have spared his parent?

1 AVOC: Well, produce your proofs.

CEL: I would I could forget I were a creature.

VOLT: Signior Corbaccio.

[CORBACCIO COMES FORWARD.]

1 AVOC: What is he?

VOLT: The father.

2 AVOC: Has he had an oath?

NOT: Yes.

CORB: What must I do now?

NOT: Your testimony’s craved.

CORB: Speak to the knave? I’ll have my mouth first stopt with earth; my heart Abhors his knowledge: I disclaim in him.

1 AVOC: But for what cause?

CORB: The mere portent of nature! He is an utter stranger to my loins.

BON: Have they made you to 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, Then I resist the authority of a father.

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 partrich, Upon record—

1 AVOC: No more.

CORV: Neighs like a jennet.

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 glued