Volpone and Other Plays (28 page)

LONDON,
Printed by
Thomas Snodham
, for
Walter Burre
,
and are to be fold by
Iohn Stepneth
, at the
Weft-end of Paules.
1612.

Facsimile of the title-page of the first edition, the quarto of 1612
.

If thou beest more, thou art an understander, and then I trust thee. If thou art one that tak'st up, and but a pretender, beware at what hands thou receiv'st thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in the way to be coz'ned than in this age in poetry, especially in plays: wherein now the concupiscence of jigs and dances so reigneth, as to run away from nature and be afraid of her is the only point of art that tickles the spectators. But how out of purpose and place do I name art, when the
professors
are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own naturals,

10  as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms when they understand not the things, think to get off wittily with their ignorance! Nay, they are esteemed the more learned and sufficient for this by the multitude, through their excellent vice of judgement. For they commend writers as they do fencers or wrestlers; who, if they come in robustiously and put for it with a great deal of violence, are received for the braver fellows; when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil. I deny not but that these men who always seek

20   to do more than enough may some time happen on some thing that is good and great – but very seldom, and when it comes, it doth not recompense the rest of their ill. It sticks out, perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid and vile about it; as lights are more discerned in a thick darkness than a faint shadow. I speak not this out of a hope to do good on any man against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, the worse would find more suffrages, because the most favour common errors. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great difference between those that (to gain the opinion of
copy
) utter all they can,

30   however unfitly, and those that use election and a mean. For it is only the disease of the unskillful to think rude things greater than polished, or scattered more numerous than composed.

SUBTLE
,
the Alchemist

FACE
,
the House-keeper

DOL COMMON
,
their Colleague

DAPPER
,
a Clerk

DRUGGER
,
a Tobacco-man

LOVEWIT
,
Master of the House

[
SIR
]
EPICURE MAMMON
,
a Knight

[
PERTINAX
]
SURLY
,
a Gamester

TRIBULATION
[
WHOLESOME
],
a Pastor of Amsterdam

ANANIAS
,
a Deacon there

KASTRIL
,
the Angry Boy

DAME PLIANT
,
his sister, a Widow

[
PARSON
]

NEIGHBOURS

OFFICERS

MUTES

The Scene
:
LONDON

THE ARGUMENT

T he
sickness hot
, a master quit, for fear,

H is house in town, and left one servant there.

E ase him corrupted, and gave means to know

A Cheater and his
punk
, who now brought low,

L eaving their narrow practice, were become

C oz'ners
at large; and only wanting some

H ouse to set up, with him they here contract,

E ach for a share, and all begin to act.

M uch company they draw, and much abuse,

10         I n casting
figures
, telling fortunes, news,

S elling of
flies
, flat bawdry, with the
Stone
;

T ill it, and they, and all in fume are gone.

PROLOGUE

Fortune, that favours fools, these two short hours

We wish away, both for your sakes and ours,

Judging spectators; and desire in place,

To th' author justice, to ourselves but grace.

Our scene is London, ' cause we would make known,

No country's mirth is better than our own.

No clime breeds better matter for your whore,

Bawd, squire, impostor, many persons more,

Whose manners, now call' d
humours
, feed the stage;

10             And which have still been subject for the rage

Or spleen of comic writers. Though this pen

Did never aim to grieve, but better men,

Howe'er the age he lives in doth endure

The vices that she breeds, above their cure.

But when the wholesome remedies are sweet,

And, in their working, gain and profit meet,

He hopes to find no spirit so much diseased,

But will with such fair correctives be pleased.

For here he doth not fear who can apply.

20            If there be any that will sit so nigh

Unto the stream, to look what it doth run,

They shall find things, they' d think, or wish, were done;

They are so natural follies, but so shown,

As even the doers may see, and yet not own.

I, i         [
LOVEWIT
's
house
.]

      [
Enter
FACE
,
in a Captain's uniform, with his sword drawn, and

  
SUBTLE
,
with a vial, quarrelling, and followed by
DOL COMMON
.]

FACE
: Believe 't, I will.

SUBTLE
:                       Thy worst. I fart at thee.

DOL COMMON
: Ha' you your wits? Why, gentlemen! for love –

FACE
: Sirrah, I'll strip you –

SUBTLE
:                                What to do?
Lick figs

 Out at my –

FACE
:                    Rogue, rogue! – out of all your sleights.

DOL COMMON
: Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen?

SUBTLE
: O, let the wild sheep loose. I'll gum your silks

With good strong water, an' you come.

DOL COMMON
:                                             Will you have

The neighbours hear you? Will you betray all?

Hark! I hear somebody.

FACE
:                                           Sirrah –

SUBTLE
:                                                       I shall mar

10        All that the tailor has made, if you approach.

FACE
: You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave,

Dare you do this?

SUBTLE
:                        Yes, faith; yes, faith.

FACE
:                                                              Why! who

Am I, my mongrel, who am I?

SUBTLE
:                                         I'll tell you,

Since you know not yourself.

FACE
:                                              Speak lower, rogue.

SUBTLE
: Yes. You were once (time's not long past) the good, Honest, plain, livery-three-pound-thrum, that kept Your master's worship's house here in the
Friars
,

For the
vacations
–

FACE
:                            Will you be so loud?

SUBTLE
: Since, by my means, translated
suburbc-aptain
.

20    
FACE
: By your means, Doctor Dog!

SUBTLE
:                                             Within man's memory,

All this I speak of.

FACE
:                             Why, I pray you, have I

Been countenanced by you, or you by me?

Do but 'collect, sir, where I met you first.

SUBTLE
: I do not hear well.

FACE
:                                          Not of this, I think it.

But I shall put you in mind, sir; – at Pie-corner,

Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks' stalls,

Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk

Piteously costive, with your pinched-horn-nose,

And your complexion of the
Roman wash
,

30              Stuck full of black and melancholic worms,

Like powder-corns shot at th' artillery-yard.

SUBTLE
: I wish you could advance your voice a little.

FACE
: When you went pinned up in the several rags

Y' had raked and picked from dunghills, before day;

Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your
kibes
;

A
felt of rug
, and a thin threaden cloak,

That scarce would cover your no–buttocks –

SUBTLE
:                                                                    So, sir!

FACE
: When all your alchemy, and your algebra,

Your minerals, vegetals, and animals,

40             Your conjuring, coz' ning, and your dozen of trades,

Could not relieve your corpse with so much linen

Would make you tinder, but to see a fire;

I ga' you count' nance, credit for your coals,

Your
stills
, your glasses, your materials;

Built you a furnace, drew you customers,

Advanced all your black arts; lent you, beside,

A house to practise in –

SUBTLE
:                                  Your master's house!

FACE
: Where you have studied the more thriving skill

Of bawdry since.

SUBTLE
:                          Yes, in your master's house.

50         You and the rats here kept possession.

Make it not strange. I know you were one could keep

The buttery–hatch still locked, and save the
chippings
,

Sell the
dole–beer
to aqua vitae men,

The which, together with your Christmas
vails

At
post-and-pair
, your letting out of counters,

Made you a pretty stock, some twenty marks,

And gave you credit to converse with cobwebs

Here, since your mistress' death hath broke up house.

FACE
: You might talk softlier, rascal.

SUBTLE
:                                                    No, you scarab,

60              I'll thunder you in pieces. I will teach you

How to beware to tempt a Fury again

That carries tempest in his hand and voice.

FACE
: The place has made you valiant.

SUBTLE
:                                                    No, your clothes.

Thou vermin
, have I ta' en thee out of dung,

So poor, so wretched, when no living thing

Would keep thee company, but a spider or worse?

Raised thee from brooms and dust and wat' ring-pots?

Sublimed thee, and exalted thee, and fixed thee

I' the third region, called our state of grace?

70           Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains

Would twice have won me the Philosopher's Work?

Put thee in words and fashion? made thee fit

For more than ordinary fellowships?

Giv'n thee thy oaths, thy
quarrelling dimensions
?

Thy rules to cheat at horse-race, cock-pit, cards,

Dice, or whatever gallant tincture else?

Made thee a second in mine own great art?

And have I this for thanks! Do you rebel?

Do you fly out i' the
projection
?

80           Would you be gone now?

DOL COMMON
:                      Gentlemen, what mean you?

Will you mar all?

SUBTLE
:                       Slave, thou hadst had no name –

DOL COMMON
: Will you undo yourselves with civil war?

SUBTLE
: Never been known, past
equi clibanum
–

The heat of horse–dung – under ground, in cellars,

Or an ale-house darker than deaf John's; been lost

To all mankind, but laundresses and tapsters,

Had not I been.

DOL COMMON
: Do you know who hears you, sovereign?

FACE
: Sirrah –

DOL COMMON
: Nay, general, I thought you were civil.

FACE
: I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud.