tence; you send me word, sir, you are a soldier. Why, sir, you shall be answered here; here be them have been among soldiers. Sir, your pleasure? Bob. Faith, sir, so it is, this gentleman and myself have been most uncivilly wronged and beaten by one Downright, a coarse fellow about the town here; and, for my own part, I protest, being a man in no sort given to this filthy humour of quarrelling, he hath assaulted me in the way of my peace; despoiled me of mine honour; disarmed me of my weapons; and rudely laid me along in the open streets; when I not so much as once offered to resist him. Clem. O, God's precious! Is this the soldier? Lie there, my sword, 'twill make him swoon, I fear; he is not fit to look on't, that will put up a blow. Mat. An't please your worship, he was bound to the peace. Clem. Why, an' he were, sir, his hands were not bound, were they? Serv. There's one of the varlets of the city, sir, has brought two gentlemen here, one upon your worship's warrant. Clem. My warrant ! Serv. Yes, sir, the officer says, procured by these two. Clem. Bid him come in. Set by this picture. What, Mr Downright! are you brought at Mr Freshwater's suit here? Enter DOWNRIGHT, STEPHEN, and BRAIN WORM. Clem. O, God's pity, was it so, sir? He must serve it? Give me a warrant, I must serve one too-you knave, you slave, you rogue, do you say you must, sirrah? Away with him to the gaol! I will teach you a trick for you must, sir. Brain. Good sir, I beseech you be good to me. Clem. Tell him, he shall go to the gaol; away with him, I say. Brain. Aye, sir, if you will commit me, it shall be for committing more than this. I will not lose by my travel any grain of my fame, certain. [Throws off his disguise. Clem. How is this! Kno. My man, Brain-worm ! Step. O, yes, uncle, Brain-worm has been with my cousin Edward and I, all this day. Clem. I told you all there was some device. Brain. Nay, excellent justice, since I have laid myself thus open to you, now stand strong for me, both by your sword and your balance. Clem. Body o' me, a merry knave! Give me a bowl of sack. If he belongs to you, Master Kno'well, I bespeak your patience. Brain. That is it I have most need of. Sir, if you will pardon me only, I will glory in all the rest of my exploits. Kno. Šir, you know I love not to have my favours come hard from me. You have your pardon; though I suspect you shrewdly for being of Dow. I'faith, sir. And here's another, brought counsel with my son against me. at my suit. Clem. What are you, sir? Step. A gentleman, sir. O, uncle! Kno. Ay, sir, this is a wise kinsman of mine. Step. God's my witness, uncle, I am wronged here monstrously; he charges me with stealing of his cloak, and would I might never stir, if Ï did not find it in the street by chance. Dow. O, did you find it, now? You said you bought it ere-while. Step. And you said I stole it. Nay, now my uncle is here, I will do well enough with you. Clem. Well, let us breathe a-while. You that have cause to complain there, stand forth. Had you my warrant for this gentleman's apprehension? Bob. Aye, an't please your worship. Clem. Nay, do not speak in passion so. Where had you it? Bob. Of your clerk, sir. Clem. That's well, an' my clerk can make warrants, and my hand not at them! Where is the warrant officer, have you it' Brain. No, sir, your worship's man, master Formal, bid me do it for these gentlemen, and he would be my discharge. Clem. Why, Master Downright, are you such a novice to be served, and never see the warrant? Brain. Yes, faith, I have, sir; though you retained me doubly this morning for yourself; first as Brain-worm, after, as Fitz-Sword. I was your reformed soldier. 'Twas I sent you to Cob's upon the errand without end. Kno. Is it possible? Or that thou should'st disguise thyself so as I should not know thee? Brain. Ó, sir! this has been the day of my metamorphoses; it is not that shape alone, that I have run through to-day. I brought Master Kitely a message too, in the form of Master Justice's man here, to draw him out of the way, as well as your worship; while Master Well-bred might make a conveyance of Mrs Bridget to my young master. Kno. My son is not married, I hope? Brain. Faith, sir, they are both as sure as love, a priest, and three thousand pounds, which is her portion, can make them; and by this time are ready to bespeak their wedding supper at the Windmill, except some friend here prevents them, and invite them home. Clem. Marry, that will I; I thank thee for putting me in mind on't. Sirrah, go you and fetch them hither upon my warrant. Neither's friends have cause to be sorry, if I know the young couple aright. But I pray thee, what hast thou done with my man Formal? Brain. Faith, sir, after some ceremony past, as making him drunk, first with story, and then with wine, but all in kindness, and stripping him to his shirt; I left him in that cool vein, departed, sold your worship's warrant to these two, pawned his livery for that varlet's gown to serve it in; and thus have brought myself, by my activity, to your worship's consideration. Clem. And I will consider thee in a cup of sack. Here's to thee; which having drank off, this is my sentence, pledge me. Thou hast done, or assisted to nothing, in my judgment, but deserves to be pardoned for the wit of the offence. Go into the next room; let Master Kitely into this whimsical business, and, if he does not forgive thee, he has less mirth in him than an honest man ought to have. How now, who are these? Eater EDWARD Kno'well, Well-bred, and BRIDGET. O, the young company. Welcome, welcome. Give you joy. Nay, Mrs Bridget, blush not! you are not so fresh a bride, but the news of it has come hither before you. Master Bridegroom, I have made your peace, give me your hand. So will I for the rest, ere you forsake my roof. All. We are the more bound to your humanity, sir. Clem. Only these two have so little of man in them, they are no part of my care. Step. And what shall I do? Clem. Oh! I had lost a sheep, an' he had not bleated. Why, sir, you shall give Mr Downright his cloak; and I will entreat him to take it. A trencher and a napkin you shall have in the buttery, and keep Cob and his wife company there: whom I will entreat first to be reconciled; and you to endeavour with your wit to keep them so. Step. I will do my best. Clem. Call Master Kitely, and his wife, there. Enter KITELY and DAME KITELY. Did I not tell you there was a plot against you? Did I not smell it out, as a wise magistrate ought? Have not you traced, have you not found it, eh, Master Kitely? Kite. I have-I confess my folly, and own I have deserved what I have suffered for it. The trial has been severe, but it is past. All I have to ask now, is, that, as my folly is cured, and my persecutors forgiven, my shame may be forgot ten. Clem. That will depend upon yourself, Master Kitely; do not you yourself create the food for mischief, and the mischievous will not prey upon you. But come, let a general reconciliation go round, and let all discontents be laid aside. You, Master Downright, put off your anger. You, Master Kno'well, your cares. And do you, Master Kitely, and your wife, put off your jealousies. Kite. Sir, thus they go from me: kiss me, my wife. See, what a drove of horns fly in the air, Winged with my cleansed and my credulous breath; Watch them, suspicious eyes, watch where they fall! See, see, on heads, that think they have none at all. O, what a plenteous world of this will come! When air rains horns, all may be sure of some. Clem. 'Tis well, 'tis well. This night we will dedicate to friendship, love, and laughter. Master Bridegroom, take your bride, and lead every one a fellow. Here is my mistress, Brain-worm! to whom all my addresses of courtship shall have their reference: whose adventures this day, when our grandchildren shall hear to be made a fable, I doubt not but it shall find both spectators and applause. [Exeunt omnes. VOLPONE, OR THE FOX. BY BEN JONSON. PROLOGUE. Now luck yet send us, and a little wit And not as some (whose throats their envy ail- Cry hoarsely, all he writes is railing: And when his plays come forth, think they can flout them, With saying he was a year about them. To these there needs no lie, but this his creature, Yet, thus much I can give you as a token With such a deal of monstrous and forc'd action, Nor made he his play, for jests, stol'n from each But makes jests to fit his fable. And so presents quick comedy refined, The laws of time, place, persons he observeth, And though he dares give them five lives to Only a little salt remaineth; mend it, "Tis known five weeks fully pen'd it: From his own hand, without a coadjutor, Wherewith he'll rub your cheeks, 'till (red with THE ARGUMENT. Volpone, childless, rich, feigns sick, despairs, Presents of all, assures, deludes; then weaves Other cross-plots, which ope themselves, are told. New tricks for safety are sought; they thrive: when, bold, SCENE I. VOLPONE and MOSCA. ACT I. The teeming earth to see the long'd-for sun All stile of joy in children, parents, friends, Such are thy beauties, and our loves! dear saint, Riches, the dumb god, that giv'st all men tongues: That canst do naught, and yet mak'st men do all things; The price of souls; even hell, with thee to boot, Is made worth Heav'n! Thou art virtue, fame, Honour, and all things else! Who can get thee, He shall be noble, valiant, honest, wise Mos. And what he will, sir. Riches are in fortune A greater good, than wisdom is in nature. Volp. True, my beloved Mosca. Yet, I glory More in the cunning purchase of my wealth, Than in the glad possession, since I gain No common way: I use no trade, no venture; Mos. No, sir, nor devour Soft prodigals. You shall ha' some will swallow cries Ring in your roofs, and beat the air for vengeance. You are not like a thresher that doth stand Vol. Hold thee, Mosca, Take, of my hand; thou strikʼst on truth, in all : me. This draws new clients daily to my house, With hope, that when I die, (which they expect Was, again of a whore she became a philosopher, Besides ox and ass, camel, mule, goat and brock, His musics, his trigon, his golden thigh, And shifted thy coat in these days of reformation ? see, And will drop you forth a libel, or a sanctified lie, Betwixt every spoonful of a nativity-pie. Nan. Now quit thee, for heav'n, of that profane nation; And gently report thy next transmigration. Nan. A creature of delight? And (what is more than a fool) an hermaphrodite? Now pri'thee, sweet soul, in all thy variation, Which body would'st thou choose, to keep up thy station? And. Troth, this I am in, even here would I tarry. 13 |