VOLP. You are too munificent. VOLT. No, fir, would to heauen,

I could as well giue health to you, as that plate.

VOLP. You giue, fir, what you can. I thanke you.
Your loue

Hath taste in this, and shall not be vn-answer'd.

I pray you see me often. VOLT.

Yes, I shall, fir.

Mos. Doe you obserue

20

VOLP. Harken vnto me, still: It will concerne you. 25

Mos. You are a happy man, fir, know your good.

VOLP. I cannot now last long- (Mos. You are

his heire, fir.

VOLT. Am I?) VOLP. I feele me going, (vh, vh, vh, vh.)

I am fayling to my port, (vh, vh, vh, vh?)

And I am glad, I am so neere my hauen.

Mos. Alas, kind gentleman, well, we must all
goe-

VOLT. But, MOSCA - Mos. Age wil conquer.
VOLT. 'Pray thee heare me.

Am I inscrib'd his heire, for certayne? Mos. Are

30

you?

I doe beseech you, fir, you will vouchsafe

To write me, i' your family. All my hopes,

35

Depend vpon your worship. I am lost,

Except the rising sunne doe shine on me.

VOLT. It shall both shine, and warme thee, MOSCA.

I am a man, that haue not done your loue
All the worst offices: here I weare your keyes,
See all your coffers, and your caskets lockt,

40

Keepe the poore inuentorie of your iewels,
Your plate, and moneyes, am your steward, fir,
Husband your goods here. VOLT. But am I sole
heire?

Mos. Without a partner, fir, confirm'd this morning; 45

The waxe is warme yet, and the inke scarse drie

Vpon the parchment. VOLT. Happy, happy, me!

By what good chance, sweet MOSCA? Mos. Your

defert, fir;

I know no second cause. VOLT. Thy modestie

Is loth to know it; well, we shall requite it.

Mos. He euer lik'd your course, sir, that first tooke
him.

I, oft, haue heard him say, how he admir'd
Men of your large profession, that could speake
To euery cause, and things mere contraries,
Till they were hoarse againe, yet all be law;
That, with most quick agilitie, could turne,
And re-turne; make knots, and vndoe them;
Giue forked counsell; take prouoking gold
On either hand, and put it vp: these men,
He knew, would thriue, with their humilitie.
And (for his part) he thought, he should be blest

50

55

[457]

60

To haue his heire of such a suffering spirit,
So wife, so graue, of so perplex'd a tongue,
And loud withall, that would not wag, nor scarce

Lie still, without a fee; when euery word

65

Your worship but lets fall, is a cecchine!

Another knocks.

Who's that? one knocks, I would not haue you seene,

fir.

And yet-pretend you came, and went in haste;
I'le fashion an excuse. And, gentle fir,

When you doe come to swim, in golden lard,

Vp to the armes, in honny, that your chin

Is borne vp stiffe, with fatnesse of the floud,
Thinke on your vassall; but remember me:

50 loth] not G

57 re-turne] (re-) return; [could] G 67 Q om. stage-direction. [Knocking without. G

70

I ha' not beene your worst of clients. VOLT.

CA

Mos. When will you haue your inuentorie bro
fir?

Or fee a coppy of the will? (anon)
I'le bring 'hem to you, fir. Away, be gone,

Put businesse i' your face.

VOLP. Excellent, M

Come hither, let me kisse thee. Mos. Keepe

stille, fir.

Here is CORBACCIO. VOLP. Set the plate away,
The vulture's gone, and the old rauen's come.

B

Etake you, to your filence, and your fleepe:
Stand there, and multiply. Now, shall
A wretch, who is (indeed) more impotent,

W

Then this can faine to be; yet hopes to hop
Ouer his graue. Signior CORBACCIO!
Yo' are very welcome, fir. CORB. How do's

patron?

Mos. Troth, as he did, fir, no amends.
What? mends he?

Mos. No, fir: he is rather worse. CORB.
well. Where is he?

Mos. Vpon his couch, fir, newly fall'n a fleep CORB. Do's he fleepe well? Mos. No wink all this night,

Nor yesterday, but slumbers. CORB. Good! He take

Some counsell of physicians: I haue brought hi

76 Q om. parentheses. 78 [Exit VOLTORE. G Q om. comma. 2 [Putting the plate to the rest. G 5 Enter CORBACCIO. G

[spr

An opiate here, from mine owne Doctor

Mos.

He will not heare of drugs. CORB. Why?
I my felfe

Stood by, while 't was made; faw all th' ingredients: 15

And know, it cannot but most gently worke.

My life for his, 'tis but to make him fleepe.

VOLP. I, his last sleepe, if he would take it. Mos.
Sir,

He ha's no faith in physick. CORB. 'Say you? 'fay
you?

[458]

Mos. He ha's no faith in physick: he do's thinke, 20

Most of your Doctors are the greater danger,

And worse disease, t' escape. I often haue

Heard him protest, that your physitian

Should neuer be his heire. CORB. Not I his heire?

Mos. Not your physitian, fir. CORB. O, no, no, no, 25 I doe not meane it. Mos. No, fir, nor their fees He cannot brooke: he sayes, they flay a man, Before they kill him. CORB. Right, I doe conceiue

you.

Mos. And then, they doe it by experiment;

For which the law not onely doth absolue 'hem,

30

But giues them great reward: and, he is loth

To hire his death, so. CORB. It is true, they kill,
With as much licence, as a iudge. Mos. Nay, more;

For he but kills, fir, where the law condemnes,

And these can kill him, too. CORB. I, or me:

35

Or any man. How do's his apoplexe?

Is that strong on him, still? Mos. Most violent.

His speech is broken, and his eyes are set,

His face drawne longer, then 't was wont- CORB.

How? how?

Mos.

Stronger, then he was wont?
Drawne longer, then 't was wont.
Mos. His mouth

18 [Aside. G 28 doe] om. Q

No, fir: his face 40
CORB. O, good.

Is euer gaping, and his eye-lids hang. CORB. Good.
Mos. A freezing numnesse stiffens all his ioynts,
And makes the colour of his flesh like lead. CORB.
'Tis good.

Mos. His pulse beats flow, and dull. CORB. Good
symptomes, still.

Mos. And, from his brain- CORB. На? how? not from his brain?

Mos. Yes, fir, and from his brain- (CORB. I conceiue you, good.)

Mos. Flowes a cold sweat, with a continuall rhewme, Forth the refolued corners of his eyes.

CORB. Is't possible? yet I am better, ha! How do's he, with the swimming of his head? Mos. O, fir, 'tis past, the scotomy; he, now, Hath lost his feeling, and hath left to snort: You hardly can perceiue him, that he breathes.

45

50

CORB. Excellent, excellent, sure I shall out-last him: 55

This makes me yong againe, a score of yeeres.

Mos. I was a comming for you, fir. CORB. Has he made his will?

What has he giu'n me? Mos. No, fir. CORB. Nothing? ha?

Mos. He has not made his will, fir. CORB. Oh, oh, oh.

What then did VOLTORE, the Lawyer, here?

Mos. He smelt a carcasse, sir, when he but heard

My master was about his testament;

As I did vrge him to it, for your good

CORB. He came vnto him, did he? I thought fo.
Mos. Yes, and presented him this piece of plate.
CORB. To be his heire? Mos. I doe not know, fir.
CORB. True,

46-7 CORB.-brain-] om. G 60 What then] But what Q

47 Q om. parentheses.

60

[459]

65