Volpone Or the Fox Part 15

LADY P: Here's pastor Fido-

VOLP [ASIDE.]: Profess obstinate silence, That's now my safest.

LADY P: All our English writers, I mean such as are happy in the Italian, Will deign to steal out of this author, mainly: Almost as much, as from Montagnie; He has so modern and facile a vein, Fitting the time, and catching the court-ear!

Your Petrarch is more pa.s.sionate, yet he, In days of sonetting, trusted them with much: Dante is hard, and few can understand him.

But, for a desperate wit, there's Aretine; Only, his pictures are a little obscene- You mark me not.

VOLP: Alas, my mind is perturb'd.

LADY P: Why, in such cases, we must cure ourselves, Make use of our philosophy-

VOLP: Oh me!

LADY P: And as we find our pa.s.sions do rebel, Encounter them with reason, or divert them, By giving scope unto some other humour Of lesser danger: as, in politic bodies, There's nothing more doth overwhelm the judgment, And cloud the understanding, than too much Settling and fixing, and, as 'twere, subsiding Upon one object. For the incorporating Of these same outward things, into that part, Which we call mental, leaves some certain faeces That stop the organs, and as Plato says, a.s.sa.s.sinate our Knowledge.

VOLP [ASIDE.]: Now, the spirit Of patience help me!

LADY P: Come, in faith, I must Visit you more a days; and make you well: Laugh and be l.u.s.ty.

VOLP [ASIDE.]: My good angel save me!

LADY P: There was but one sole man in all the world, With whom I e'er could sympathise; and he Would lie you, often, three, four hours together To hear me speak; and be sometimes so rapt, As he would answer me quite from the purpose, Like you, and you are like him, just. I'll discourse, An't be but only, sir, to bring you asleep, How we did spend our time and loves together, For some six years.

VOLP: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!

LADY P: For we were coaetanei, and brought up-

VOLP: Some power, some fate, some fortune rescue me!

[ENTER MOSCA.]

MOS: G.o.d save you, madam!

LADY P: Good sir.

VOLP: Mosca? welcome, Welcome to my redemption.

MOS: Why, sir?

VOLP: Oh, Rid me of this my torture, quickly, there; My madam, with the everlasting voice: The bells, in time of pestilence, ne'er made Like noise, or were in that perpetual motion!

The c.o.c.k-pit comes not near it. All my house, But now, steam'd like a bath with her thick breath.

A lawyer could not have been heard; nor scarce Another woman, such a hail of words She has let fall. For h.e.l.l's sake, rid her hence.

MOS: Has she presented?

VOLP: O, I do not care; I'll take her absence, upon any price, With any loss.

MOS: Madam-

LADY P: I have brought your patron A toy, a cap here, of mine own work.

MOS: 'Tis well.

I had forgot to tell you, I saw your knight, Where you would little think it.-

LADY P: Where?

MOS: Marry, Where yet, if you make haste, you may apprehend, Rowing upon the water in a gondole, With the most cunning courtezan of Venice.

LADY P: Is't true?

MOS: Pursue them, and believe your eyes; Leave me, to make your gift.

[EXIT LADY P. HASTILY.]

-I knew 'twould take: For, lightly, they, that use themselves most license, Are still most jealous.

VOLP: Mosca, hearty thanks, For thy quick fiction, and delivery of me.

Now to my hopes, what say'st thou?

[RE-ENTER LADY P. WOULD-BE.]

LADY P: But do you hear, sir?-

VOLP: Again! I fear a paroxysm.

LADY P: Which way Row'd they together?

MOS: Toward the Rialto.

LADY P: I pray you lend me your dwarf.

MOS: I pray you, take him.- [EXIT LADY P.]

Your hopes, sir, are like happy blossoms, fair, And promise timely fruit, if you will stay But the maturing; keep you at your couch, Corbaccio will arrive straight, with the Will; When he is gone, I'll tell you more.

[EXIT.]

VOLP: My blood, My spirits are return'd; I am alive: And like your wanton gamester, at primero, Whose thought had whisper'd to him, not go less, Methinks I lie, and draw-for an encounter.

[THE SCENE CLOSES UPON VOLPONE.]

SCENE 3.3

THE Pa.s.sAGE LEADING TO VOLPONE'S CHAMBER.

ENTER MOSCA AND BONARIO.

MOS: Sir, here conceal'd, [SHEWS HIM A CLOSET.]

you may here all. But, pray you, Have patience, sir; [KNOCKING WITHIN.]

-the same's your father knocks: I am compell'd to leave you.

[EXIT.]