Or I shall draw the only tooth is left. Me to the poisoning of my patron, sir? Volp. Excellent varlet! Volt. Now, my faithful Mosca, I find thy constancy. Mos. Sir! Volt. Sincere. Mos. [writing.] A table Of porphyry-I marle you'll be thus troublesome. What! who did send for you? O, cry you mercy, Things being so easy and direct, I shall not, You that have so much law, I know have the conscience Not to be covetous of what is mine. Good sir, I thank you for my plate; 'twill help sir. look home and purge, [Exit Voltore. Volp. [comes from behind the curtain.] Bid him eat lettuce well. My witty mischief, Let me embrace thee. O that I could now Transform thee to a Venus!--Mosca, go, Straight take my habit of clarissimo, And walk the streets; be seen, torment them more: We must pursue, as well as plot. Who would Have lost this feast? Mos. I doubt it will lose them. Volp. O, my recovery shall recover all. That I could now but think on some disguise To meet them in, and ask them questions: How I would vex them still at every turn! Mos. Sir, I can fit you. Volp. Canst thou? Mos. Yes, I know One o' the commandadori, sir, so like you; Him will I straight make drunk, and bring you his habit. Volp. A rare disguise, and answering thy brain! O, I will be a sharp disease unto them. Mos. Sir, you must look for cursesVolp. Till they burst; --- The Fox fares ever best when he is curst. [Exeunt. * Bid him eat lettuce well.]-as a soporific. "Did I eat any lettuce to supper, last night, that I am so sleepy?" Green's Tu Quoque. And Pope, "if your point be rest, "Lettuce, and cowslip-wine; probatum est." SCENE II. A Hall in sir Politick's House. Enter PEREGRINE disguised, and three Merchants. Per. Am I enough disguised? 1 Mer. I warrant you. Per. All my ambition is to fright him only. 2 Mer. If you could ship him away, 'twere excellent. 3 Mer. To Zant, or to Aleppo? Per. Yes, and have his Adventures put i' the Book of Voyages,' 1 Mer. Trust it to our care. [Exeunt Merchants. Enter Waiting-woman. Per. Save you, fair lady! Is sir Pol within? Wom. I do not know, sir. Per. Pray you say unto him, 3 In the Book of Voyages,] I know not what particular book Jonson had in view here, unless he may be thought to allude to the early volumes of Hakluyt, a man never to be mentioned without praise and veneration. Collections of voyages, however, were sufficiently numerous in the poet's time, when they formed the delight of all classes of people; many of them, too, contained "stories" not only "registered" but received "for truth," altogether as extravagant as this ridiculous adventure of sir Politick's, which had nothing in it to shock the taste, or even to tax the credulity of our forefathers. Here is a merchant, upon earnest business, Wom. I will see, sir. Per. Pray you. I see the family is all female here. Re-enter Waiting-woman. [Exit. Wom. He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state, That now require him whole; some other time You may possess him. Per. Pray you say again, If those require him whole, these will exact him, Whereof I bring him tidings. What might be [Exit Woman.]— His grave affair of state now! how to make Re-enter Waiting-woman. Wom. Sir, he says, he knows By your word tidings,* that you are no statesman, And therefore wills you stay. Per. Sweet, pray you return him ; I have not read so many proclamations, And studied them for words, as he has doneBut-here he deigns to come. Enter sir POLITICK. Sir P. Sir, I must crave [Exit Woman. Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced to-day, By your word tidings,] The state term, I presume, was intelligence. Tidings, sir Pol seems to consider as a mercantile or city phrase. Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me; To give her satisfaction, as you came now. aster: The gentleman you met at the port to-day, Sir P. Ay, was A fugitive punk? Per. No, sir, a spy set on you; And he has made relation to the senate, Per. For which, warrants are sign'd by this To apprehend you, and to search your study Sir P. Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Per. All the better, sir. Sir P. And some essays. What shall I do? Convey yourself into a sugar-chest; Or, if you could lie round, a frail were rare," Sir P. Sir, I but talk'd so, For discourse sake merely. [Knocking within. Sir P. I am a wretch, a wretch! Have you ne'er a currant-butt to leap into? 5 A frail were rare,] A rush-basket, in which raisins and figs are usually packed. WHAL. |