Free Volpone and Other Plays by Ben Jonson

the rising sun do shine on me.
    VOLTORE : It shall both shine and warm thee, Mosca.
    MOSCA :                                                               Sir,
    I am a man that have not done your love
    40        All the worst offices. Here I wear your keys,
    See all your coffers and your caskets locked,
    Keep the poor inventory of your jewels,
    Your plate, and moneys; am your steward, sir,
    Husband your goods here.
    VOLTORE :                             But am I sole heir?
    MOSCA : Without a partner, sir, confirmed this morning;
    The wax is warm yet, and the ink scarce dry
    Upon the parchment.
    VOLTORE :       Happy, happy me!
    By what good chance, sweet Mosca?
    MOSCA :                                              Your desert, sir;
    I know no second cause.
    VOLTORE :       Thy modesty
    50        Is loath to know it; well, we shall requite it.
    MOSCA : He ever liked your course, sir; that first took him.
    I oft have heard him say how he admired
    Men of your large profession, that could speak
    To every cause, and things mere contraries,
    Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law;
    That, with most quick agility, could turn,
    And re-turn; make knots, and undo them;
    Give forkèd counsel; take provoking gold
    On either hand, and put it up. These men,
    60        He knew, would thrive with their humility.
    And, for his part, he thought he should be blessed
    To have his heir of such a suffering spirit,
    So wise, so grave, of so perplexed a tongue,
    And loud withal, that would not wag, nor scarce
    Lie still, without a fee; when every word
    Your worship but lets fall, is a chequin!
    Another knocks
.
    Who’s that? One knocks. I would not have you seen, sir.
    And yet – pretend you came and went in haste;
    I’ll fashion an excuse. And, gentle sir,
    70        When you do come to swim in golden lard,
    Up to the arms in honey, that your chin
    Is borne up stiff with fatness of the flood,
    Think on your vassal; but remember me:
    I ha’not been your worst of clients.
    VOLTORE :                                                     Mosca –
    MOSCA : When will you have your inventory brought, sir?
    Or see a copy of the will? – Anon. –
    I‘ll bring ’em to you, sir. Away, be gone,
    Put business i’your face.
    [
Exit
VOLTORE .]
    VOLPONE :                                 Excellent, Mosca!
    Come hither, let me kiss thee.
    MOSCA :                                   Keep you still, sir.
    Here is Corbaccio.
    80     VOLPONE :                                  Set the plate away.
    The vulture’s gone, and the old raven’s come.
    I,iv  [ MOSCA :] Betake you to your silence, and your sleep. –
    Stand there and multiply. – Now shall we see
    A wretch who is indeed more impotent
    Than this can feign to be, yet hopes to hop
    Over his grave.
    [
Enter
CORBACCIO