SCENE V.[1704

[_Enter_] 4 Avocatori, [_and take their seats_,] BONARIO, CELIA, Notario, Commandadori, Saffi, _and other_ Officers of Justice.]

_1 Avoc._ The like of this the senate never heard of.

_2 Avoc._ ’T will come most strange to them when we report it.

_4 Avoc._ The gentlewoman has been ever held Of unreproved name.

_3 Avoc._ So has the youth.

_4 Avoc._ The more unnatural part that of his father. 5

_2 Avoc._ More of the husband.

_1 Avoc._ I not know to give His act a name, it is so monstrous!

_4 Avoc._ But the impostor, he ’s a thing created. T’ exceed example!

_1 Avoc._ And all after-times!

_2 Avoc._ I never heard a true voluptuary 10 Describ’d but him.

_3 Avoc._ Appear yet those were cited?

_Not._ All but the old magnifico, Volpone.

_1 Avoc._ Why is not he here?

_Mos._ Please your fatherhoods, Here is his advocate: himself ’s so weak, So feeble——

_4 Avoc._ Who are you?

_Bon._ His parasite, 15 His knave, his pander. I beseech the court He may be forc’d to come, that your grave eyes May bear strong witness of his strange impostures.

_Volt._ Upon my faith and credit with your virtues. He is not able to endure the air. 20

_2 Avoc._ Bring him.

_3 Avoc._ We will see him.

_4 Avoc._ Fetch him.

_Volt._ Your fatherhoods’ fit pleasures be obey’d; [_Exeunt_ Officers.] But sure, the sight will rather move your pities Than indignation. May it please the court, In the mean time, he may be heard in me. 25 I know this place most void of prejudice, And therefore crave it, since we have no reason To fear our truth should hurt our cause.

_3 Avoc._ Speak free.

_Volt._ Then know, most honour’d fathers, I must now Discover to your strangely abus’d ears, 30 The most prodigious and most frontless piece Of solid impudence, and treachery, That ever vicious nature yet brought forth To shame the state of Venice. This lewd woman, That wants no artificial looks or tears 35 To help the vizor she has now put on, Hath long been known a close adulteress To that lascivious youth there; not suspected, I say, but known, and taken in the act 40 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 accus’d. For these not knowing how to owe a gift Of that dear grace, but with their shame; being plac’d 45 So above all powers of their gratitude, Began to hate the benefit; and in place Of thanks, devise t’ extirp the memory Of such an act: wherein I pray your fatherhoods To observe the malice, yea, the rage of creatures 50 Discover’d in their evils: and what heart Such take, ev’n 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, 55 And griev’d 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. 60

_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 65 Appointed for the deed; that parricide, I cannot style him better, by confederacy Preparing this his paramour to be there, Ent’red Volpone’s house (who was the man, Your fatherhoods must understand, design’d 70 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! 75 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 80 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[1705] to his forg’d practice, who was glad To be so active,—(I shall here desire 85 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, 90 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. 95

_Bon._ His soul moves in his fee.

_3 Avoc._ O, sir.

_Bon._ This fellow, For six sols[1706] 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 99 That he will spare his accuser, that would not Have spar’d his parent?

_1 Avoc._ Well, produce your proofs.

_Cel._ I would I could forget I were a creature.

_Volt._ Signior Corbaccio! [CORBACCIO _comes forward._]

_4 Avoc._ What is he?

_Volt._ The father.

_2 Avoc._ Has he had an oath?

_Not._ Yes.

_Corb._ What must I do now? 104

_Not._ Your testimony’s crav’d.

_Corb._ Speak to the knave? I ’ll ha’ my mouth first stopt with earth; my heart Abhors his knowledge: I disclaim in[1707] him.

_1 Avoc._ But for what cause?

_Corb._ The mere portent of nature! He is an utter stranger to my loins. 109

_Bon._ Have they made you to[1708] 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. 114

_Volt._ Signior Corvino! [CORVINO _comes forward._]

_2 Avoc._ This is strange.

_1 Avoc._ Who ’s this?

_Not._ The husband.

_4 Avoc._ Is he sworn?

_Not._ He is.

_3 Avoc._ Speak then.

_Corv._ This woman, please your fatherhoods, is a whore, Of most hot exercise, more than a partridge, Upon record——-

_1 Avoc._ No more.

_Corv._ Neighs like a jennet. 119

_Not._ Preserve the honour of the court.

_Corv._ I shall, And modesty of your most reverend ears, And yet I hope that I may say, these eyes Have seen her glu’d unto that piece of cedar, That fine well timber’d gallant: and that here The letters maybe read, thorough the horn,[1709] 125 That make the story perfect.

_Mos._ Excellent! sir.

_Corv._ [_Aside to_ MOSCA.] There is no shame in this now, is there?

_Mos._ None.

_Corv._ Or if I said, I hop’d that she were onward To her damnation, if there be a hell Greater than whore and woman, a good Catholic 130 May make the doubt.

_3 Avoc._ His grief hath made him frantic.

_1 Avoc._ Remove him hence.

_2 Avoc._ Look to the woman. CELIA _swoons_.

_Corv._ Rare! Prettily feign’d again!

_4 Avoc._ Stand from about her.

_1 Avoc._ Give her the air.

_3 Avoc._ What can you say? [_To_ MOSCA.]

_Mos._ My wound, May it please your wisdoms, speaks for me, receiv’d 135 In aid of my good patron, when he mist His sought-for father, when that well-taught dame Had her cue giv’n her to cry out, “A rape!”

_Bon._ O most laid[1710] impudence! Fathers—

_3 Avoc._ Sir, be silent; 139 You had your hearing free, so must they theirs.

_2 Avoc._ I do begin to doubt th’ imposture here.

_4 Avoc._ This woman has too many moods.

_Volt._ Grave fathers, She is a creature of a most profest And prostituted lewdness.

_Corv._ Most impetuous, 144 Unsatisfi’d, 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 ’em Together on the water, in a gondola.

_Mos._ Here is the lady herself, that saw them too, 150 Without; who then had in the open streets Pursu’d them, but for saving her knight’s honour.

_1 Avoc._ Produce that lady.

_2 Avoc._ Let her come. [_Exit_ MOSCA.]

_4 Avoc._ These things, They strike with wonder.

_3 Avoc._ I am turn’d a stone.