Volp. So many cares, so many maladies, So many fears attending on old age, Yea, death so often call'd on, as no wish Can be more frequent with them, their limbs faint, [now a third ! And all turns air! [Knocking within.] Who's that there, Mos. Close, to your couch again; I hear his voice : It is Corvino, our spruce merchant. Volp. [lies down as before.] Dead. Mos. Another bout, sir, with your eyes. [Anointing them.]-Who's there? Enter CORVINO. Signior Corvino ! come most wish'd for 0, How happy were you, if you knew it, now! Mos. The tardy hour is come, sir. Corv. He is not dead? Mos. Not dead, sir, but as good; He knows no man. Corv. How shall I do then? Mos. Why, sir? Corv. I have brought him here a pearl. Mos. Perhaps he has So much remembrance left, as to know you, sir: He still calls on you; nothing but your name Corv. Venice was never owner of the like. Volp. Signior Corvino ! Mos. He calls you; step and give it him.- And he has brought you a rich pearl. Corv. How do you, sir? Tell him, it doubles the twelfth caract. He cannot understand, his hearing's gone; I have a diamond for him, too. Mos. Best shew it, sir; Put it into his hand; 'tis only there He apprehends: he has his feeling, yet, See how he grasps it! Corv. 'Las, good gentleman! How pitiful the sight is! Mos. Tut forget, sir. The weeping of an heir should still be laughter Under a visor. Corv. Why, am I his heir? Mos. Sir, I am sworn, I may not shew the will Till he be dead; but here has been Corbaccio, Here has been Voltore, here were others too, I cannot number 'em, they were so many; All gaping here for legacies: but I, Taking the vantage of his naming you, Signior Corvino, Signior Corvino, took Paper, and pen, and ink, and there I asked him, Whom he would have his heir? ...19... Corvino. Who Should be executor? Corvino. And, I still interpreted the nods he made, Through weakness, for consent: and sent home th' others, Nothing bequeath'd them, but to cry and curse. Corv. O, my dear Mosca! [They embrace.] Does he not perceive us? Mos. No more than a blind harper. No face of friend, nor name of any servant, [man, He knows no Who 'twas that fed him last, or gave him drink : Can he remember. Corv. Has he children? Mos. Bastards, Some dozen, or more, that he begot on beggars, Gypsies, and Jews, and blackmoors, when he was drunk. Knew you not that, sir? 'tis the common fable. In all, save me :-but he has given them nothing. Mos. Sure, sir! why, look you, credit your own sense. [Shouts in VOL.'s ear. The pox approach, and add to your diseases, Thoroughly, and thoroughly, and the plague to boot!- Corv. [aloud.] Or like an old smoke wall, on which the rain Ran down in streaks ! Mos. Excellent, sir! speak out: You may be louder yet; a culverin Discharged in his ear would hardly bore it. Corv. His nose is like a common sewer, still running. Mos. 'Tis good! And what his mouth? Mos. O, stop it up Corv. By no means. Mos. 'Pray you, let me: Faith I could stifle him rarely with a pillow, It is your presence makes him last so long. Mos. No, sir! why? Why should you be thus scrupulous, pray you, sir? Mos. Well, good sir, begone. Corv. I will not trouble him now, to take my pearl. Mos. Puh not your diamond. What a needless care Is this afflicts you? Is not all here yours? Am not I here, whom you have made your creature? Corv. Grateful Mosca ! Thou art my friend, my fellow, my companion, My partner, and shalt share in all my fortunes. Corv. What's that? Mos. Your gallant wife, sir, Now is he gone: we had no other means [Exit CORV. Volp. My divine Mosca ! Thou hast to-day outgone thyself. [Knocking within.] -Who's there? I will be troubled with no more. Prepare Me music, dances, banquets, all delights; The Turk is not more sensual in his pleasures, Then will Volpone. [Exit Mos.] Let me see; a pearl! A diamond plate! chequines ! purchase. Good Why, this is better than rob churches, yet; morning's ་་。 |