□oBoo

I say, but known, and taken in the act
With him; and by this man, the easy husband,
Pardon'd; whose timeless bounty makes him now
Stand here, the most unhappy, innocent person,
That ever man's own goodness made accused.
For these not knowing how to owe a gift

Of that dear grace, but with their shame; being placed

So above all powers of their gratitude,

Began to hate the benefit; and, in place
Of thanks, devise to extirpe the memory

Of such an act: wherein I pray your fatherhoods
To observe 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 struck at his too tender ears,
And grieved in nothing more than that he could

not

Preserve himself a parent, (his son's ills Growing to that strange flood,) at last decreed To disinherit him.

1 Avoc. These be strange turns!

2 Avoc. The young man's fame was ever fair and honest.

Volt. So much more full of danger is his vice, That can beguile so under shade of virtue. But, as I said, my honour'd sires, his father Having this settled purpose, by what means To him betray'd, we know not, and this day Appointed for the deed; that parricide, I cannot style him better, by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Enter'd Volpone's house, (who was the man, Your fatherhoods must understand, design'd

For the inheritance,) there sought his father:-
But with what purpose sought he him, my lords?
I tremble to pronounce it, that a son
Unto a father, and to such a father,

Should have so foul, felonious intent!

It was to murder him: when being prevented
By his more happy absence, what then did he?
Not check his wicked thoughts; no, now new
deeds:

(Mischief doth never end where it begins)'
An act of horror, fathers! he dragg'd forth
The aged gentleman that had there lain bed-rid
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 forged practice, who was glad
To be so active,-(I shall here desire

Your fatherhoods to note but my collections,
As most remarkable,-) thought at once to stop
His father's ends, discredit his free choice
In the old gentleman, redeem themselves,
By laying infamy upon this man,

To whom, with blushing, they should owe their lives.

1 Avoc. What proofs have you of this?
Bon. Most honour'd fathers,

I humbly crave there be no credit given
To this man's mercenary tongue.

2 Avoc. Forbear.

Bon. His soul moves in his fee.
3 Avoc. O, sir.

9 (Mischief doth ever end where it begins)] But the reverse of this seems the truer remark, and what he intended to say; namely, that mischief does not stop where it first began, or set out. So that, notwithstanding the authority of the old copies, it is probable we should read,

Mischief doth never end where it begins.

WHAL.

Bon. This fellow,

For six sols more, would plead against his Maker. 1 Avoc. You do forget yourself.

Volt. Nay, nay, grave fathers,

Let him have scope: can any man imagine That he will spare his accuser, that would not Have spared his parent?

1 Avoc. Well, produce your proofs.

Cel. I would I could forget I were a creature. Volt. Signior Corbaccio!

4 Avoc. What is he?

Volt. The father.

[Corbaccio comes forward.

2 Avoc. Has he had an oath?

Not. Yes.

Corb. What must I do now?

Not. Your testimony's craved.

Corb. Speak to the knave?

I'll have my mouth first stopt with earth; my heart

Abhors his knowledge: I disclaim in him. 1 Avoc. But for what cause?

Corb. The mere 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 sit down,

And rather wish my innocence should suffer,
Than I resist the authority of a father.

Volt. Signior Corvino! [Corvino comes forward. 2 Avoc. This is strange.

1 Avoc. Who's this?

Have they made you to this?] Wrought you by previous instruction, &c. See p. 45.

Not. The husband.

4 Avoc. Is he sworn? Not. He is.

3 Avoc. Speak then.

Coro. This woman, please your fatherhoods, is a whore,

Of most hot exercise, more than a partrich,
Upon record—

1 Avoc. No more.

Corv. Neighs like a jennet.

Not. Preserve the honour of the court.
Corv. I shall,

2

And modesty of your most reverend ears.
And yet I hope that I may say, these eyes
Have seen her glued unto that piece of cedar,
That fine well timber'd gallant; and that here3
The letters may be read, thorough the horn,
That make the story perfect.

Mos. Excellent! sir.

Coro. There is no shame in this now, is there? [Aside to Mosca.

Mos. None.

Coro. Or if I said, I hoped that she were onward To her damnation, if there be a hell

Greater than whore and woman; a good catholic May make the doubt.

3 Avoc. His grief hath made him frantic.

2 More than a partrich,] The salacious nature of this bird is taken notice of by all the ancient writers of natural history. Thus Ælian, L. iii. c. 5. Περδικες δε ακρατορες εισιν αφροδίτης. And again, Λαγνισαῖον δὲ ὁ περδιξ nai μoxinov. Ibid. L. vii. c. 19. And Pliny, Nat. Hist. L. x. c. 33: Neque in alio animali per opus libidini, &c. WHAL

3 And that, here, &c.] AxTinws, pointing to his forehead: the allusion, in the next line, is to the horn-book of children. Our old writers are never weary of their ridiculous jests on the transparency of these badges of cuckoldom: thus Shakspeare; "He hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife shines through it. Henry IV. Pt. 2. A. I. S. 2.

VOL. III.

U

1 Avoc. Remove him hence.

2 Avoc. Look to the woman. Coro. Rare!

Prettily feign'd, again !

4 Avoc. Stand from about her. 1 Avoc. Give her the air.

[Celia swoons.

3 Avoc. What can you say? [to Mosca.] Mos. My wound,

May it please your wisdoms, speaks for me, received

In aid of my good patron, when he mist

His sought-for father, when that well-taught dame
Had her cue given her, to cry out, A rape!
Bon. O most laid impudence! Fathers

3 Avoc. Sir, be silent;

You had your hearing free, so must they theirs. 2 Avoc. I do begin to doubt the imposture here. 4 Avoc. This woman has too many moods. Volt. Grave fathers,

She is a creature of a most profest
And prostituted lewdness.

Coro. Most impetuous,
Unsatisfied, grave fathers!
Volt. May her feignings

Not take your wisdoms: but this day she baited A stranger, a grave knight, with her loose eyes, And more lascivious kisses. This man saw them Together on the water, in a gondola.

Mos. Here is the lady herself, that saw them

too,

Without; who then had in the open streets Pursued them, but for saving her knight's honour. 1 Avoc. Produce that lady.

2 Avoc. Let her come.

[Exit Mosca.

O most laid impudence !] i. e. plotted, designed, well contrived.

WHAL.