Volpone Or the Fox Part 30

[EXEUNT MERCHANTS.]

[ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]

PER: Save you, fair lady! Is sir Pol within?

WOM: I do not know, sir.

PER: Pray you say unto him, Here is a merchant, upon earnest business, Desires to speak with him.

WOM: I will see, sir.

[EXIT.]

PER: Pray you.- I see the family is all female here.

[RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]

WOM: He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state, That now require him whole; some other time You may possess him.

PER: Pray you say again, If those require him whole, these will exact him, Whereof I bring him tidings.

[EXIT WOMAN.]

-What might be His grave affair of state now! how to make Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing One o' the ingredients?

[RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.]

WOM: Sir, he says, he knows By your word "tidings," that you are no statesman, And therefore wills you stay.

PER: Sweet, pray you return him; I have not read so many proclamations, And studied them for words, as he has done- But-here he deigns to come.

[EXIT WOMAN.]

[ENTER SIR POLITICK.]

SIR P: Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced to-day, Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me; And I was penning my apology, To give her satisfaction, as you came now.

PER: Sir, I am grieved I bring you worse disaster: The gentleman you met at the port to-day, That told you, he was newly arrived-

SIR P: Ay, was A fugitive punk?

PER: No, sir, a spy set on you; And he has made relation to the senate, That you profest to him to have a plot To sell the State of Venice to the Turk.

SIR P: O me!

PER: For which, warrants are sign'd by this time, To apprehend you, and to search your study For papers-

SIR P: Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Drawn out of play-books-

PER: All the better, sir.

SIR P: And some essays. What shall I do?

PER: Sir, best Convey yourself into a sugar-chest; Or, if you could lie round, a frail were rare: And I could send you aboard.

SIR P: Sir, I but talk'd so, For discourse sake merely.

[KNOCKING WITHIN.]

PER: Hark! they are there.

SIR P: I am a wretch, a wretch!

PER: What will you do, sir?

Have you ne'er a currant-b.u.t.t to leap into?

They'll put you to the rack, you must be sudden.

SIR P: Sir, I have an ingine-

3 MER [WITHIN.]: Sir Politick Would-be?

2 MER [WITHIN.]: Where is he?

SIR P: That I have thought upon before time.

PER: What is it?

SIR P: I shall ne'er endure the torture.

Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-sh.e.l.l, Fitted for these extremities: pray you, sir, help me.

Here I've a place, sir, to put back my legs, Please you to lay it on, sir, [LIES DOWN WHILE PEREGRINE PLACES THE Sh.e.l.l UPON HIM.]

-with this cap, And my black gloves. I'll lie, sir, like a tortoise, 'Till they are gone.

PER: And call you this an ingine?

SIR P: Mine own device-Good sir, bid my wife's women To burn my papers.

[EXIT PEREGRINE.]

[THE THREE MERCHANTS RUSH IN.]

1 MER: Where is he hid?

3 MER: We must, And will sure find him.

2 MER: Which is his study?

[RE-ENTER PEREGRINE.]

1 MER: What Are you, sir?

PER: I am a merchant, that came here To look upon this tortoise.