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Would be as easily cheated on, as he,

And all turns air! [Knocking within.] Who's that there, now? a third! 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

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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
Is in his mouth. Is your pearl orient, sir?
Corv. Venice was never owner of the like.
Volp. (faintly) Signior Corvino!

Mos.

Volp.

Hark.

Signior Corvino !

Mos. He calls you; step and give it him.-He's here, sir,

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Mos. Sir, I am sworn, I may not show 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,

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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. He knows no man,

No face of friend, nor name of any servant,

Who 'twas that fed him last, or gave him drink;

Not those he hath begotten, or brought up,

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Some dozen, or more; but he has given them nothing.

Corv. That's well, that's well! Art sure he does not hear us?
Mos. Sure, sir! why, look you, credit your own sense.

[Shouts in VOL,'s ear,

The pox approach, and add to your diseases,
If it would send you hence the sooner, sir,
For your incontinence, it hath deserv'd it
Thoroughly, and thoroughly, and the plague to boot!-
You may come near, sir.-Would you would once close
Those filthy eyes of yours, that flow with slime.
Like two frog-pits; and those same hanging cheeks,
Cover'd with hide instead of skin-Nay, help, sir—

That look like frozen dish-clouts set on end!

Corv. (aloud) Or like an old smoked wall, on which the rain Ran down in streaks!

Mos.

Excellent! I could stifle him.

Be so:

Corv. Do as you will; but I'll be gone.
Mos.

It is your presence makes him last so long.

Corv. I pray you, use no violence.
Mos.

No, sir! why?

Why should you be thus scrupulous, pray you, sir?

Corv. Nay, at your discretion.

Mos.

Well, good, sir, begone,

Corv. I will not trouble him now, to take my pearl. Mos. Puh! nor 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,

That owe my being to you?

Corv.
Grateful Mosca !
Thou art my friend, my fellow, my companion,
My partner, and shalt share in all my fortunes.

Mos. Now is he gone: we had no other means
To shoot him hence, but this.

Volp. (leaping from his couch) My divine Mosca!
Thou hast to-day outgone thyself.-Prepare

Me music, dances, banquets, all delights;
The Turk is not more sensual in his pleasures,
Than will Volpone.

[Exit CORV.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
[See "Imagination and Fancy," page 150.]

SINCE expressing, in the above volume, the surprise which everybody feels at the astounding mixture of license and refinement displayed by these poets (for the grossness of earlier writers is but a simplicity compared with it), I have come to the conclusion that it was an excess of animal spirits, encouraged by the demand of the times, and the intoxication of applause. They were the sons of men of rank: they had been thrown upon the town in the heyday of their blood, probably with a turn for lavish expenditure; they certainly wanted money as they advanced, and were glad to get it of gross audiences; they had been taught to confound loyalty with servility, which subjected them to the dissolute influence of the court of James the First; they came among the actors and the playwrights, with advantages of position, perhaps of education and accomplishments, superior to them all their confidence, their wit, their enjoyment was unbounded; everybody was glad to hear what the gay gentlemen had to say; and forth they poured it accordingly, without stint or conscience, Beaumont died young; but Fletcher, who went writing on, appears to have taken a still greater license than his friend. The son of the bishop had probably been tempted to go farther out of bounds than the son of the judge; for Dr. Fletcher was not such a bishop as Grindall or Jewel. The poet might have been taught hypocrisy by his father; and, in despising it as he grew up, had gone to another extreme.

The reader of the following scenes will observe the difference between the fierce weight of the satire of Volpone, in which

poison and suffocation are brought in to aggravate, and the gayer caricature of Beaumont and Fletcher. It is equally founded on truth-equally wilful and superabundant in the treatment of it, but more light and happy. You feel that the writers enjoyed it with a gayer laugh. The pretended self-deception with which a coward lies to his own thoughts,-the necessity for support which induces him to apply to others as cowardly as himself for the warrant of their good opinion, and the fascinations of vanity which impel such men into the exposure which they fancy they have taken the subtlest steps to guard against, are most entertain ingly set forth in the interview of Bessus with the two bullies, and the subsequent catastrophe of all three in the hands of Bacurius. The nice balance of distinction and difference in which the bullies pretend to weigh the merits of kicks and beatings, and the impossibility which they affect of a shadow of imputation against their valors, or even of the power to assume it hypothetically, are masterly plays of wit of the first order.

The scenes entitled Duke and No Duke are less perfect writing, but they would be still more effective in representation. The folly is "humored to the top of its bent ;" and the idea of Marine's being deprived of his titles by the whisk of a sword, besides being a good practical jest, is a startling reduction of such honors to their first principles

THE PHILOSOPHY OF KICKS AND BEATINGS.

From the play of "KING AND NO KING."

Bessus, a beaten poltroon, applies to a couple of professional bullies, also poltroons, to sit in judgment on his case, and testify to his character for valor. They accompany him to the house of Bacurius to do so, and bring an unexpected certificate on the whole party.

Scene, a room in the house of BESSUS.

Enter BESSUS, two Swordmen, and a Boy.

Bes. You're very welcome, both! Some stools there, boy; And reach a table. Gentlemen o' th' sword,

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