Or to invite me home, you might have done it
A nearer way by far. Lad. This cannot work you
Out of my Snare. Per. Why? Am I in it, then?
Indeed your Husband told me you were fair,
And fo you are; only your Nose enclines

(That Side that's next the Sun) to the Queen-Apple.
Lad. This cannot be endur'd, by any Patience.

Mofca. What's the matter, Madam? Lad. If the Senate Right not my queft in this, I will proteft 'em To all the World, no Arifiocracy.

Mof. What is the Injury, Lady? Lad. Why the Callet You told me of, here I have tane difguis'd.

Mof. Who? this? what means your Ladyship? the Crea

ture

I mention'd to you, is apprehended, now,

Before the Senate; you fhall fee her-Lad. Where?

Mof. I'll bring you to her. This young Gentleman, I faw him land this Morning at the Port.

Lad. Is't poffible! how has my Judgment wander'd? Sir, I muft, blushing, fay to you, I have err'd; And plead your Pardon? Per. What, more Changes yet? Lad. I hope you ha' not the malice to remember

A Gentlewoman's Paffion. If you lay

In Venice here, please you to use me, Sir-
Mof. Will you go, Madam?

Lad. 'Pray you, Sir, ufe me: In faith.
The more you fee me, the more I fhall conceive
You have forgot our Quarrel. Per. This is rare!
Sir Politick Would-be? No, Sir Politick Bawd!
To bring me thus acquainted with his Wife!
Well, wife Sir Pol. fince you have practis'd thus
Upon my Freshman-fhip, I'll try your Salt-head,
What Proof it is against a Counter-plot..

SCENE IV.

Voltore, Corbaccio, Corvino, Mofca.

Well, now you know the Carriage of the Bufinefs,

Your

Your Conftancy is all that is requir'd

Unto the Safety of it.

Mof. Is the Lie

Safely convey'd amongst us? is that fure?
Knows every Man his Burden?

Corv. Yes. Mof. Then fhrink not.

Corv. But knows the Advocate the Truth? Mof. O, Sir, By no means. I devis'd a formal Tale,

That falv'd your Reputation. But be valiant, Sir.

Corv. I fear no one but him, that this his Pleading Should make him ftand for a Co-heir-Mof. Co-halter! Hang him, we will, but ufe his Tongue, his Noife, As we do Croakers here. Cor. I, what fhal! he do? Mof. When we ha' done, you mean? Corv. Yes. Mof. Why, we'll think : Sell him for Mummia, he's half Duft already. Do you not fmile, to fee this Buffalo

[To Voltore. How he doth sport it with his Head? — I should If all were well, and paft. Sir, only you

Are he that shall enjoy the Crop of all,

[To Corbaccio.

And these not know for whom they Toil. Corb. I, Peace.

Mof. But you fhall eat it.

Much Worshipful Sir,

[To Corvina. [Then to Voltore again.

Mercury fit upon your thundering Tongue,

Or the French Hercules, and make your Language
As conquering as his Club, to beat along

(As with a Tempeft) flat, our Adversaries;

But much more yours, Sir. Volt. Here they come, ha' done.
Mof. I have another Witness, if you need, Sir,
I can produce. Volt. Who is it? Mof. Sir, I have her.

SCENE V.

Avocatori 4. Bonario, Celia, Voltore, Corbaccio, Corvino, Mojca, Notario, Commendadori.

Avocatori 4. The like of this the Senate never heard of. Avoc. 2. Twill come moft ftrange to them, when we report it.

Avoc. 4. The Gentlewoman has been ever held Of unreproved Name. Avoc. 3. So the young Man. Avoc. 4. The more unnatural Part that of his Father:

Avoc. 2. More of the Husband. Avoc. 1. I not know to give

His Act a Name, it is fo monstrous !

Avoc. 4. But the Impoftor, he is a Thing created T'exceed Example! Avoc. 1. And all after-times! Avoc. 2. I never heard a true Voluptuary Defcrib'd, but him. Avoc. 3. Appear yet thofe were cited? Nota. All but the old Magnifico, Volpone. Avoc. 1. Why is not he here?

Mof. Please your Fatherhoods,

Here is his Advocate :

So Feeble- Avoc. 4. What are you?
Bon. His Parafite,

His Knave, his Pandar: I beseech the Court,
He may be forc'd to come, that your grave Eyes
May bear ftrong Witnefs of his ftrange Impoftures.
Volt. Upon my Faith and Credit, with your Vertues,
He is not able to endure the Air.

Avoc. 2. Bring him, however.

Avoc. 3. We will fee him. Avoc. 4. Fetch him.' Volt. Your Fatherhood's fit Pleasures be obey'd; But fure, the Sight will rather move your Pities, Than Indignation: May it please the Court, In the mean time, he may be heard in me. I know this Place most void of Prejudice, And therefore crave it, fince we have no reason To fear our Truth fhould hurt our Cause.

Avoc. 3. Speak free.

Volt. Then know, moft honour'd Fathers. I must now Discover to your ftrangely abufed Ears

The moft prodigious and most frontless Piece

Of folid Impudence, and Treachery

That ever vicious Nature yet brought forth

To fhame the State of Venice. This lewd Woman
(That wants no artificial Looks, or Tears,
To help the Vizor fhe has now put on)
Hath long been known a clofe Adultrefs
To that lafcivious Youth there; not suspected,
I fay, but known, and taken in the Act
With him; and by this Man, the eafie Husband,

Pardon'd;

Pardon'd; whofe timely Bounty makes him now
Stand here, the most unhappy, innocent Perfon
That ever Man's own Goodness made accus'd.
For these, not knowing how to owe a Gift
Of that dear Grace, but with their Shame; being plac'd
So' above all others of their Gratitude

Began to hate the Benefit; and, in Place

Of Thanks, devife t' extirp the Memory
Of fuch an Act: Wherein I pray your Fatherhoods
T'obferve the Malice, yea, the Rage of Creatures,
Discover'd in their Evils, and what Heart

Such take, even from their Crimes. But that anon
Will more appear. This Gentleman, the Father,
Hearing of this foul Fact, with many others,
Which daily ftruck at his two tender Ears,
And griev'd in nothing more than that he could not
Preferve himself a Parent, (his Son's Ills,
Growing to that ftrange Flood) at last decreed
To difinherit him. Avoc. 1. These be strange Turns!
Avoc. 2.The young Man's Fame was ever fair and honeft.
Volt. So much more full of danger is his Vice,
That can beguile fo, under fhade of Virtue.
But, as I faid, (my honour'd Sires) his Father
Having this fettled Purpose, (by what means
To him betray'd, we know not) and this Day
Appointed for the Deed; that Parricide
(I cannot ftile him better) by Confederacy
Preparing this his Paramour to be there,
Entred Volpone's Houfe (who was the Man,
Your Fatherhoods muft understand, design'd
For the Inheritance) there, fought his Father:
But with what Purpofe fought he him, my Lords!
(I tremble to pronounce it, that a Son
Unto a Father, and to fuch a Father,
Should have fo foul, felonious intent)

It was to murder him: When, being prevented
By his more happy Abfence, what then did he?
Not check his wicked Thoughts; no, now new Deeds;
(Mischief doth ever end where it begins)

An Act of horrour, Fathers! He dragg'd forth
The aged Gentleman that had there lien Bed-rid

Three

Three Years and more, out of his innocent Couch,
Naked upon the Floor, there left him; wounded
His Servant in the Face, and with this Strumpet,
The Stale to his forg'd Practice, who was glad
To be fo active, (I shall here defire

Your Fatherhoods to note but my Collections,
As most remarkable) thought at once to stop
His Father's Ends, difcredit his free Choice
In the old Gentleman, redeem themselves,
By laying Infamy upon this Man,

To whom, with blufhing, they fhould owe their Lives.
Avoc. 1. What Proofs have you of this?

Bon. Moft honour'd Fathers,

I humbly crave there be no credit given,

To this Man's mercenary Tongue. Avoc. 2: Forbear,
Bon. His Soul moves in his Fee.

Avoc. 3. O, Sir. Bon. This Fellow

For fix Souz more, would plead against his Maker.
Avoc. 1. You do forget your felf.

Volt. Nay, nay, Grave Fathers,

Let him have scope: Can any Man imagine
That he will spare his Accufer, that would not
Have fpar'd his Parent?

Avac. 1. Well, produce your Proofs.

Cel. I would I could forget I were a Creature.
Volt. Signior Corbaccio.

Avoc. 4. What is he? Volt. The Father.

Avoc. 2. Has he had an Oath ?

Not. Yes. Corb. What must I do now?

Not. Your Teftimony's crav'd.

Corb. Speak to the Knave?

I'll ha' my Mouth firft ftopt with Earth; my Heart
Abhors his Knowledge, I difclaim in him.

Avoc. 1. But for what Caule ?

Corb. The meer Portent of Nature:

He is an utter Stranger to my Loins.

Bon. Have they made you to this!
Corb. I will not hear thee,

Monster of Men, Swine, Goat, Wolf, Parricide,

Speak not thou Viper. Bon. Sir, I will fit down,

An.