Dispatch, dispatch: I long to have possession

Of my new present.

Mos. That, and thousands more,

I hope to see you lord of.

Volp. Thanks, kind Mosca.

Mos. And that, when I am lost in blended dust, And hundreds such as I am, in succession

Volp. Nay, that were too much, Mosca.

Mos. You shall live

Still to delude these harpies.

Volp. Loving Mosca !

'Tis well my pillow now, and let him enter.

[Exit MOSCA. Now, my feigned cough, my phtisic, and my gout, My apoplexy, palsy, and catarrhs,

Help, with your forced functions, this my posture, Wherein, this three year, I have milked their hopes. He comes; I hear him-Uh! [coughing.] uh! uh! uh! O

Re-enter MOSCA, introducing VOLTORE with a piece of Plate.

Mos. You still are what you were, sir. Only you,

Of all the rest, are he commands his love,
And you do wisely to preserve it thus,

With early visitation, and kind notes

Of your good meaning to him, which, I know,
Cannot but come most grateful. Patron! sir!
Here's Signior Voltore is come▬▬

Volp. [faintly.] What say you?

Mos. Sir, Signior Voltore is come this morning To visit you.

Volp. I thank him.

Mos. And hath brought

A piece of antique plate, bought of St. Mark,

With which he here presents you.

Volp. He is welcome.

Pray him to come more often.

Mos. Yes.

Volt. What says he?

Mos. He thanks you, and desires you to see him

often.

Volp. Mosca.

Mos. My patron!

Volp. Bring him near, where is he?

I long to feel his hand.

Mos. The plate is here, sir.

Volt. How fare you, sir?

Volp. I thank you, Signior Voltore;

Where is the plate? mine eyes are bad.

Volt. [putting it into his hands.] I'm sorry

To see you still thus weak.

Mos. That he's not weaker.

Volp. You are too munificent.
Volt. No, sir; would to heaven,

I could as well give health to you, as that plate!

[Aside.

Volp. You give, sir, what you can; I thank you. Your love

Hath taste in this, and shall not be unanswered:

I pray you see me often.

Volt. Yes, I shall, sir.

Volp. Be not far from me.

Mos. Do you observe that, sir?

Volp. Hearken unto me still; it will concern you. Mos. You are a happy man, sir; know your good. Volp. I cannot now last long--

Mos. You are his heir, sir.

Volt. Am I?

Jon. III.

Volp. I feel me going: Uh! uh! uh! uh!

I'm sailing to my port, Uh! uh! uh! uh!

And I am glad I am so near my haven.

Mos. Alas, kind gentleman! Well, we must all

go

Volt. But, Mosca

Mos. Age will conquer.

Volt. Pray thee, hear me;

Am I inscribed his heir for certain?

Mos. Are you !

I do beseech you, sir, you will vouchsafe

To write me in your family. All my hopes
Depend upon your worship: I am lost

Except the rising sun do shine on me.

Volt. It shall both shine, and warm thee, Mosca.
Mos. Sir,

I am a man that hath not done your love

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 monies; am your steward, sir,

Husband your goods here.

Volt. But am I sole heir?

Mos. Without a partner, sir: confirmed this morning : The wax is warm yet, and the ink scarce dry

Upon the parchment.

Volt. Happy, happy me!

By what good chance, sweet Mosca ?

Mos. Your desert, sir;

I know no second cause.

Volt. Thy modesty

Is not to know it; well, we shall requite it.

Mos. 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
Το every cause, and things mere contraries,
Till they were hoarse again, yet all be law ;
That, with most quick agility, could turn,
And return; make knots, and undo them;
Give forked counsel; take provoking gold
On either hand, and put it up; these men,
He knew, would thrive with their humility.
And, for his part, he thought he should be blest
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 !-

1

[Knocking without. 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,

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 have not been your worst of clients.

Volt. Mosca !

Mos. When will you have your inventory brought,

sir?

Or see a copy of the Will?-Anon !

I'll bring them to you, sir. Away, begone,

Put business in your face.

[Exit VOLTORE.

Volp. [springing up.] Excellent Mosca !

Come hither, let me kiss thee.

Mos. Keep you still, sir.

Here is Corbaccio.

Volp. Set the plate away :

The vulture's gone, and the old raven's come.
Mos. Betake you to your silence, and your sleep.
Stand there and multiply. [Putting the plate to the
rest.] Now we shall see

A wretch who is indeed more impotent

Than this can feign to be; yet hopes to hop

Over his grave.

Enter CORBACCIO.

Signior Corbaccio!

You're very welcome, sir.

Corb. How does your patron?

Mos. Troth, as he did, sir; no amends.

Corb. What! mends he?

Mos. No, sir: he's rather worse.

Corb. That's well. Where is he?

Mos. Upon his couch, sir, newly fall'n asleep.

Corb. Does he sleep well?

Mos. No wink, sir, all this night,

Nor yesterday; but slumbers.

Corb. Good! he should take

Some counsel of physicians: I have brought him

An opiate here, from mine own doctor.
Mos. He will not hear of drugs.

Corb. Why? I myself

Stood by while it was made, saw all the ingredients;

And know it cannot but most gently work:

My life for his, 'tis but to make him sleep.

Volp. Ay, his last sleep, if he would take it. [Aside. Mos. Sir,

He has no faith in physic.

Corb. Say you, say you?