Volpone, Ben Jonson [sight word readers .TXT] 📗
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- Author: Ben Jonson
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MOS: Did you not hear it?
VOLT: Yes, I hear Corbaccio Hath made your patron there his heir.
MOS: ‘Tis true, By my device, drawn to it by my plot, With hope—
VOLT: Your patron should reciprocate? And you have promised?
MOS: For your good, I did, sir. Nay, more, I told his son, brought, hid him here, Where he might hear his father pass the deed: Being persuaded to it by this thought, sir, That the unnaturalness, first, of the act, And then his father’s oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did mean t’help on,) would sure enrage him To do some violence upon his parent, On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope: Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My only aim was to dig you a fortune Out of these two old rotten sepulchres—
VOLT: I cry thee mercy, Mosca.
MOS: Worth your patience, And your great merit, sir. And see the change!
VOLT: Why, what success?
MOS: Most happless! you must help, sir. Whilst we expected the old raven, in comes Corvino’s wife, sent hither by her husband—
VOLT: What, with a present?
MOS: No, sir, on visitation; (I’ll tell you how anon;) and staying long, The youth he grows impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wounds me, makes her swear (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) To affirm my patron to have done her rape: Which how unlike it is, you see! and hence, With that pretext he’s gone, to accuse his father, Defame my patron, defeat you—
VOLT: Where is her husband? Let him be sent for straight.
MOS: Sir, I’ll go fetch him.
VOLT: Bring him to the Scrutineo.
MOS: Sir, I will.
VOLT: This must be stopt.
MOS: O you do nobly, sir. Alas, ‘twas labor’d all, sir, for your good; Nor was there want of counsel in the plot: But fortune can, at any time, o’erthrow The projects of a hundred learned clerks, sir.
CORB [LISTENING]: What’s that?
VOLT: Will’t please you, sir, to go along?
[EXIT CORBACCIO, FOLLOWED BY VOLTORE.]
MOS: Patron, go in, and pray for our success.
VOLP [RISING FROM HIS COUCH.]: Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless!
[EXEUNT.]
ACT 4. SCENE 4.1.
A STREET.
[ENTER SIR POLITICK WOULD-BE AND PEREGRINE.]
SIR P: I told you, sir, it was a plot: you see What observation is! You mention’d me, For some instructions: I will tell you, sir, (Since we are met here in this height of Venice,) Some few perticulars I have set down, Only for this meridian, fit to be known Of your crude traveller, and they are these. I will not touch, sir, at your phrase, or clothes, For they are old.
PER: Sir, I have better.
SIR P: Pardon, I meant, as they are themes.
PER: O, sir, proceed: I’ll slander you no more of wit, good sir.
SIR P: First, for your garb, it must be grave and serious, Very reserv’d, and lock’d; not tell a secret On any terms, not to your father; scarce A fable, but with caution; make sure choice Both of your company, and discourse; beware You never speak a truth—
PER: How!
SIR P: Not to strangers, For those be they you must converse with, most; Others I would not know, sir, but at distance, So as I still might be a saver in them: You shall have tricks else past upon you hourly. And then, for your religion, profess none, But wonder at the diversity, of all: And, for your part, protest, were there no other But simply the laws o’ the land, you could content you, Nic. Machiavel, and Monsieur Bodin, both Were of this mind. Then must you learn the use And handling of your silver fork at meals; The metal of your glass; (these are main matters With your Italian;) and to know the hour When you must eat your melons, and your figs.
PER: Is that a point of state too?
SIR P: Here it is, For your Venetian, if he see a man Preposterous in the least, he has him straight; He has; he strips him. I’ll acquaint you, sir, I now have lived here, ‘tis some fourteen months Within the first week of my landing here, All took me for a citizen of Venice: I knew the forms, so well—
PER [ASIDE.]: And nothing else.
SIR P: I had read Contarene, took me a house, Dealt with my Jews to furnish it with moveables— Well, if I could but find one man, one man To mine own heart, whom I durst trust, I would—
PER: What, what, sir?
SIR P: Make him rich; make him a fortune: He should not think again. I would command it.
PER: As how?
SIR P: With certain projects that I have; Which I may not discover.
PER [ASIDE.]: If I had But one to wager with, I would lay odds now, He tells me instantly.
SIR P: One is, and that I care not greatly who knows, to serve the state Of Venice with red herrings for three years, And at a certain rate, from Rotterdam, Where I have correspendence. There’s a letter, Sent me from one of the states, and to that purpose: He cannot write his name, but that’s his mark.
PER: He’s a chandler?
SIR P: No, a cheesemonger. There are some others too with whom I treat About the same negociation; And I will undertake it: for, ‘tis thus. I’ll do’t with ease, I have cast it all: Your hoy Carries but three men in her, and a boy; And she shall make me three returns a year: So, if there come but one of three, I save, If two, I can defalk:—but this is now, If my main project fail.
PER: Then you have others?
SIR P: I should be loth to draw the subtle air Of such a place, without my thousand aims. I’ll not dissemble, sir: where’er I come, I love to be considerative; and ‘tis true, I have at my free hours thought upon Some certain goods unto the state of Venice, Which I do call “my Cautions;” and, sir, which I mean, in hope of pension, to propound To the Great Council, then unto the Forty, So to the Ten. My means are made already—
PER: By whom?
SIR P: Sir, one that, though his place be obscure, Yet he can sway, and they will hear him. He’s A commandador.
PER: What! a common serjeant?
SIR P: Sir, such as they are, put it in their mouths, What they should say, sometimes; as well as greater: I think I have my notes to shew you— [SEARCHING HIS POCKETS.]
PER: Good sir.
SIR P: But you shall swear unto me, on your gentry, Not to anticipate—
PER: I, sir!
SIR P: Nor reveal A circumstance—My paper is not with me.
PER: O, but you can remember, sir.
SIR P: My first is Concerning tinder-boxes. You must know, No family is here, without its box. Now, sir, it being so portable a thing, Put case, that you or I were ill affected Unto the state, sir; with it in our pockets, Might not I go into the Arsenal, Or you, come out again, and none the wiser?
PER: Except yourself, sir.
SIR P: Go to, then. I therefore Advertise to the state, how fit it were, That none but such as were known patriots, Sound lovers of their country, should be suffer’d To enjoy them in their houses; and even those Seal’d at some office, and at such a bigness As might not lurk in pockets.
PER: Admirable!
SIR P: My next is, how to enquire, and be resolv’d, By present demonstration, whether a ship, Newly arrived from Soria, or from Any suspected part of all the Levant, Be guilty of the plague: and where they use To lie out forty, fifty days, sometimes, About the Lazaretto, for their trial; I’ll save that charge and loss unto the merchant, And in an hour clear the doubt.
PER: Indeed, sir!
SIR P: Or—I will lose my labour.
PER: ‘My faith, that’s much.
SIR P: Nay, sir, conceive me. It will cost me in onions, Some thirty livres—
PER: Which is one pound sterling.
SIR P: Beside my water-works: for this I do, sir. First, I bring in your ship ‘twixt two brick walls; But those the state shall venture: On the one I strain me a fair tarpauling, and in that I stick my onions, cut in halves: the other Is full of loopholes, out at which I thrust The noses of my bellows; and those bellows I keep, with water-works, in perpetual motion, Which is the easiest matter of a hundred. Now, sir, your onion, which doth naturally Attract the infection, and your bellows blowing The air upon him, will show, instantly, By his changed colour, if there be contagion; Or else remain as fair as at the first. —Now it is known, ‘tis nothing.
PER: You are right, sir.
SIR P: I would I had my note.
PER: ‘Faith, so would I: But you have done well for once, sir.
SIR P: Were I false, Or would be made so, I could shew you reasons How I could sell this state now, to the Turk; Spite of their galleys, or their— [EXAMINING HIS PAPERS.]
PER: Pray you, sir Pol.
SIR P: I have them not about me.
PER: That I fear’d. They are there, sir.
SIR P: No. This is my diary, Wherein I note my actions of the day.
PER: Pray you let’s see, sir. What is here? [READS.] “Notandum, A rat had gnawn my spur-leathers; notwithstanding, I put on new, and did go forth: but first I threw three beans over the threshold. Item, I went and bought two tooth-picks, whereof one I burst immediatly, in a discourse With a Dutch merchant, ‘bout ragion del stato. From him I went and paid a moccinigo, For piecing my silk stockings; by the way I cheapen’d sprats; and at St. Mark’s I urined.” ‘Faith, these are politic notes!
SIR P: Sir, I do slip No action of my life, but thus I quote it.
PER: Believe me, it is wise!
SIR P: Nay, sir, read forth.
[ENTER, AT A DISTANCE, LADY POLITICK-WOULD BE, NANO, AND TWO WAITING-WOMEN.]
LADY P: Where should this loose knight be, trow? sure he’s housed.
NAN: Why, then he’s fast.
LADY P: Ay, he plays both with me. I pray you, stay. This heat will do more harm To my complexion, than his heart is worth; (I do not care to hinder, but to take him.) [RUBBING HER CHEEKS.] How it comes off!
1 WOM: My master’s yonder.
LADY P: Where?
1 WOM: With a young gentleman.
LADY P: That same’s the party; In man’s apparel! ‘Pray you, sir, jog my knight: I’ll be tender to his reputation, However he demerit.
SIR P [SEEING HER]: My lady!
PER: Where?
SIR P: ‘Tis she indeed, sir; you shall know her. She is, Were she not mine, a lady of that merit, For fashion and behaviour; and, for beauty I durst compare—
PER: It seems you are not jealous, That dare commend her.
SIR P: Nay, and for discourse—
PER: Being your wife, she cannot miss that.
SIR P [INTRODUCING PER.]: Madam, Here is a gentleman, pray you, use him fairly; He seems a youth, but he is—
LADY P: None.
SIR P: Yes, one Has put his face as soon into the world—
LADY P: You mean, as early? but to-day?
SIR P: How’s this?
LADY P: Why, in this habit, sir; you apprehend me:— Well, master Would-be, this doth not become you; I had thought the odour, sir, of your good name, Had been more precious to you; that you would not Have done this dire massacre on your honour; One of your gravity and rank
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