Act 5. Scene 5.8

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_ THE SCRUTINEO, OR SENATE-HOUSE.

AVOCATORI, BONARIO, CELIA, CORBACCIO, CORVINO,
COMMANDADORI, SAFFI, ETC., AS BEFORE.

1 AVOC. These things can ne'er be reconciled. He, here,
[SHEWING THE PAPERS.]
Professeth, that the gentleman was wrong'd,
And that the gentlewoman was brought thither,
Forced by her husband, and there left.

VOLT. Most true.

CEL. How ready is heaven to those that pray!

1 AVOC. But that
Volpone would have ravish'd her, he holds
Utterly false; knowing his impotence.

CORV. Grave fathers, he's possest; again, I say,
Possest: nay, if there be possession, and
Obsession, he has both.

3 AVOC. Here comes our officer.

[ENTER VOLPONE.]

VOLP. The parasite will straight be here, grave fathers.

4 AVOC. You might invent some other name, sir varlet.

3 AVOC. Did not the notary meet him?

VOLP. Not that I know.

4 AVOC. His coming will clear all.

2 AVOC. Yet, it is misty.

VOLT. May't please your fatherhoods--

VOLP [whispers volt.]: Sir, the parasite
Will'd me to tell you, that his master lives;
That you are still the man; your hopes the same;
And this was only a jest--

VOLT. How?

VOLP. Sir, to try
If you were firm, and how you stood affected.

VOLT. Art sure he lives?

VOLP. Do I live, sir?

VOLT. O me!
I was too violent.

VOLP. Sir, you may redeem it,
They said, you were possest; fall down, and seem so:
I'll help to make it good.
[voltore falls.]
--God bless the man!--
Stop your wind hard, and swell: See, see, see, see!
He vomits crooked pins! his eyes are set,
Like a dead hare's hung in a poulter's shop!
His mouth's running away! Do you see, signior?
Now it is in his belly!

CORV. Ay, the devil!

VOLP. Now in his throat.

CORV. Ay, I perceive it plain.

VOLP. 'Twill out, 'twill out! stand clear.
See, where it flies,
In shape of a blue toad, with a bat's wings!
Do you not see it, sir?

CORB. What? I think I do.

CORV. 'Tis too manifest.

VOLP. Look! he comes to himself!

VOLT. Where am I?

VOLP. Take good heart, the worst is past, sir.
You are dispossest.

1 AVOC. What accident is this!

2 AVOC. Sudden, and full of wonder!

3 AVOC. If he were
Possest, as it appears, all this is nothing.

CORV. He has been often subject to these fits.

1 AVOC. Shew him that writing:--do you know it, sir?

VOLP [WHISPERS VOLT.]: Deny it, sir, forswear it; know it not.

VOLT. Yes, I do know it well, it is my hand;
But all that it contains is false.

BON. O practice!

2 AVOC. What maze is this!

1 AVOC. Is he not guilty then,
Whom you there name the parasite?

VOLT. Grave fathers,
No more than his good patron, old Volpone.

4 AVOC. Why, he is dead.

VOLT. O no, my honour'd fathers,
He lives--

1 AVOC. How! lives?

VOLT. Lives.

2 AVOC. This is subtler yet!

3 AVOC. You said he was dead.

VOLT. Never.

3 AVOC. You said so.

CORV. I heard so.

4 AVOC. Here comes the gentleman; make him way.

[ENTER MOSCA.]

3 AVOC. A stool.

4 AVOC [ASIDE.]: A proper man; and, were Volpone dead,
A fit match for my daughter.

3 AVOC. Give him way.

VOLP [ASIDE TO MOSCA.]: Mosca, I was almost lost, the advocate
Had betrayed all; but now it is recovered;
All's on the hinge again--Say, I am living.

MOS. What busy knave is this!--Most reverend fathers,
I sooner had attended your grave pleasures,
But that my order for the funeral
Of my dear patron, did require me--

VOLP [ASIDE.]: Mosca!

MOS. Whom I intend to bury like a gentleman.

VOLP [ASIDE.]: Ay, quick, and cozen me of all.

2 AVOC. Still stranger!
More intricate!

1 AVOC. And come about again!

4 AVOC [ASIDE.]: It is a match, my daughter is bestow'd.

MOS [ASIDE TO VOLP.]: Will you give me half?

VOLP. First, I'll be hang'd.

MOS. I know,
Your voice is good, cry not so loud.

1 AVOC. Demand
The advocate.--Sir, did not you affirm,
Volpone was alive?

VOLP. Yes, and he is;
This gentleman told me so.
[ASIDE TO VOLP.]
--Thou shalt have half.--

MOS. Whose drunkard is this same? speak, some that know him:
I never saw his face.
[ASIDE TO VOLP.]
--I cannot now
Afford it you so cheap.

VOLP. No!

1 AVOC. What say you?

VOLT. The officer told me.

VOLP. I did, grave fathers,
And will maintain he lives, with mine own life.
And that this creature [POINTS TO MOSCA.] told me.
[ASIDE.]
--I was born,
With all good stars my enemies.

MOS. Most grave fathers,
If such an insolence as this must pass
Upon me, I am silent: 'twas not this
For which you sent, I hope.

2 AVOC. Take him away.

VOLP. Mosca!

3 AVOC. Let him be whipt.

VOLP. Wilt thou betray me?
Cozen me?

3 AVOC. And taught to bear himself
Toward a person of his rank.

4 AVOC. Away.

[THE OFFICERS SEIZE VOLPONE.]

MOS. I humbly thank your fatherhoods.

VOLP [ASIDE.]: Soft, soft: Whipt!
And lose all that I have! If I confess,
It cannot be much more.

4 AVOC. Sir, are you married?

VOLP. They will be allied anon; I must be resolute:
The Fox shall here uncase.
[THROWS OFF HIS DISGUISE.]

MOS. Patron!

VOLP. Nay, now,
My ruins shall not come alone; your match
I'll hinder sure: my substance shall not glue you,
Nor screw you into a family.

MOS. Why, patron!

VOLP. I am Volpone, and this is my knave;
[POINTING TO MOSCA.]
This [TO VOLT.], his own knave; This [TO CORB.], avarice's fool;
This [TO CORV.], a chimera of wittol, fool, and knave:
And, reverend fathers, since we all can hope
Nought but a sentence, let's not now dispair it.
You hear me brief.

CORV. May it please your fatherhoods--

COM. Silence.

1 AVOC. The knot is now undone by miracle.

2 AVOC. Nothing can be more clear.

3 AVOC. Or can more prove
These innocent.

1 AVOC. Give them their liberty.

BON. Heaven could not long let such gross crimes be hid.

2 AVOC. If this be held the high-way to get riches,
May I be poor!

3 AVOC. This is not the gain, but torment.

1 AVOC. These possess wealth, as sick men possess fevers,
Which trulier may be said to possess them.

2 AVOC. Disrobe that parasite.

CORV, MOS. Most honour'd fathers!--

1 AVOC. Can you plead aught to stay the course of justice?
If you can, speak.

CORV, VOLT. We beg favour,

CEL. And mercy.

1 AVOC. You hurt your innocence, suing for the guilty.
Stand forth; and first the parasite: You appear
T'have been the chiefest minister, if not plotter,
In all these lewd impostures; and now, lastly,
Have with your impudence abused the court,
And habit of a gentleman of Venice,
Being a fellow of no birth or blood:
For which our sentence is, first, thou be whipt;
Then live perpetual prisoner in our gallies.

VOLT. I thank you for him.

MOS. Bane to thy wolvish nature!

1 AVOC. Deliver him to the saffi.
[MOSCA IS CARRIED OUT.]
--Thou, Volpone,
By blood and rank a gentleman, canst not fall
Under like censure; but our judgment on thee
Is, that thy substance all be straight confiscate
To the hospital of the Incurabili:
And, since the most was gotten by imposture,
By feigning lame, gout, palsy, and such diseases,
Thou art to lie in prison, cramp'd with irons,
Till thou be'st sick, and lame indeed.--Remove him.

[HE IS TAKEN FROM THE BAR.]

VOLP. This is call'd mortifying of a Fox.

1 AVOC. Thou, Voltore, to take away the scandal
Thou hast given all worthy men of thy profession,
Art banish'd from their fellowship, and our state.
Corbaccio!--bring him near--We here possess
Thy son of all thy state, and confine thee
To the monastery of San Spirito;
Where, since thou knewest not how to live well here,
Thou shalt be learn'd to die well.

CORB. Ah! what said he?

AND. You shall know anon, sir.

1 AVOC. Thou, Corvino, shalt
Be straight embark'd from thine own house, and row'd
Round about Venice, through the grand canale,
Wearing a cap, with fair long asses' ears,
Instead of horns; and so to mount, a paper
Pinn'd on thy breast, to the Berlina--

CORV. Yes,
And have mine eyes beat out with stinking fish,
Bruised fruit and rotten eggs--'Tis well. I am glad
I shall not see my shame yet.

1 AVOC. And to expiate
Thy wrongs done to thy wife, thou art to send her
Home to her father, with her dowry trebled:
And these are all your judgments.

ALL. Honour'd fathers.--

1 AVOC. Which may not be revoked. Now you begin,
When crimes are done, and past, and to be punish'd,
To think what your crimes are: away with them.
Let all that see these vices thus rewarded,
Take heart and love to study 'em! Mischiefs feed
Like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed.

[EXEUNT.]

[VOLPONE COMES FORWARD.]

VOLPONE. The seasoning of a play, is the applause.
Now, though the Fox be punish'd by the laws,
He yet doth hope, there is no suffering due,
For any fact which he hath done 'gainst you;
If there be, censure him; here he doubtful stands:
If not, fare jovially, and clap your hands.

[EXIT.] _

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