[EXIT NANO.]
-Now, Cupid Send it be Mosca, and with fair return!
NAN [WITHIN.]: It is the beauteous madam-
VOLP: Would-be?-is it?
NAN: The same.
VOLP: Now torment on me! Squire her in; For she will enter, or dwell here for ever: Nay, quickly.
[RETIRES TO HIS COUCH.]
-That my fit were past! I fear A second h.e.l.l too, that my lothing this Will quite expel my appet.i.te to the other: Would she were taking now her tedious leave.
Lord, how it threats me what I am to suffer!
[RE-ENTER NANO, WITH LADY POLITICK WOULD-BE.]
LADY P: I thank you, good sir. "Pray you signify Unto your patron, I am here.-This band Shews not my neck enough.-I trouble you, sir; Let me request you, bid one of my women Come hither to me.-In good faith, I, am drest Most favorably, to-day! It is no matter: "Tis well enough.- [ENTER 1 WAITING-WOMAN.]
Look, see, these petulant things, How they have done this!
VOLP [ASIDE.]: I do feel the fever Entering in at mine ears; O, for a charm, To fright it hence.
LADY P: Come nearer: Is this curl In his right place, or this? Why is this higher Then all the rest? You have not wash"d your eyes, yet!
Or do they not stand even in your head?
Where is your fellow? call her.
[EXIT 1 WOMAN.]
NAN: Now, St. Mark Deliver us! anon, she will beat her women, Because her nose is red.
[RE-ENTER 1 WITH 2 WOMAN.]
LADY P: I pray you, view This tire, forsooth; are all things apt, or no?
1 WOM: One hair a little, here, sticks out, forsooth.
LADY P: Does"t so, forsooth? and where was your dear sight, When it did so, forsooth! What now! bird-eyed?
And you too? "Pray you, both approach and mend it.
Now, by that light, I muse you are not ashamed!
I, that have preach"d these things so oft unto you, Read you the principles, argued all the grounds, Disputed every fitness, every grace, Call"d you to counsel of so frequent dressings-
NAN [ASIDE.]: More carefully than of your fame or honour.
LADY P: Made you acquainted, what an ample dowry The knowledge of these things would be unto you, Able, alone, to get you n.o.ble husbands At your return: and you thus to neglect it!
Besides you seeing what a curious nation The Italians are, what will they say of me?
"The English lady cannot dress herself."
Here"s a fine imputation to our country: Well, go your ways, and stay, in the next room.
This fucus was too course too, it"s no matter.- Good-sir, you will give them entertainment?
[EXEUNT NANO AND WAITING-WOMEN.]
VOLP: The storm comes toward me.
LADY P [GOES TO THE COUCH.]: How does my Volpone?
VOLP: Troubled with noise, I cannot sleep; I dreamt That a strange fury enter"d, now, my house, And, with the dreadful tempest of her breath, Did cleave my roof asunder.
LADY P: Believe me, and I Had the most fearful dream, could I remember"t-
VOLP [ASIDE.]: Out on my fate! I have given her the occasion How to torment me: she will tell me hers.
LADY P: Me thought, the golden mediocrity, Polite and delicate-
VOLP: O, if you do love me, No more; I sweat, and suffer, at the mention Of any dream: feel, how I tremble yet.
LADY P: Alas, good soul! the pa.s.sion of the heart.
Seed-pearl were good now, boil"d with syrup of apples, Tincture of gold, and coral, citron-pills, Your elicampane root, myrobalanes-
VOLP [ASIDE.]: Ah me, I have ta"en a gra.s.s-hopper by the wing!
LADY P: Burnt silk, and amber: you have muscadel Good in the house-
VOLP: You will not drink, and part?
LADY P: No, fear not that. I doubt, we shall not get Some English saffron, half a dram would serve; Your sixteen cloves, a little musk, dried mints, Bugloss, and barley-meal-
VOLP [ASIDE.]: She"s in again!
Before I fain"d diseases, now I have one.
LADY P: And these applied with a right scarlet cloth.
VOLP [ASIDE.]: Another flood of words! a very torrent!
LADY P: Shall I, sir, make you a poultice?
VOLP: No, no, no; I am very well: you need prescribe no more.
LADY P: I have a little studied physic; but now, I"m all for music, save, in the forenoons, An hour or two for painting. I would have A lady, indeed, to have all, letters, and arts, Be able to discourse, to write, to paint, But princ.i.p.al, as Plato holds, your music, And, so does wise Pythagoras, I take it, Is your true rapture: when there is concent In face, in voice, and clothes: and is, indeed, Our s.e.x"s chiefest ornament.
VOLP: The poet As old in time as Plato, and as knowing, Says that your highest female grace is silence.
LADY P: Which of your poets? Petrarch, or Ta.s.so, or Dante?
Guarini? Ariosto? Aretine?
Cieco di Hadria? I have read them all.
VOLP [ASIDE.]: Is every thing a cause to my distruction?
LADY P: I think I have two or three of them about me.
VOLP [ASIDE.]: The sun, the sea will sooner both stand still, Then her eternal tongue; nothing can "scape it.