Act 3 — [Scene IX.][1677]

Corb. Why, how now, Mosca? Mos. O, undone, amaz’d, sir. Your son, I know not by what accident, Acquainted with your purpose to my patron, Touching your will, and making him your heir, Ent’red our house with violence, his sword drawn,5 Sought for you, called you wretch, unnatural, Vow’d he would kill you. Corb. Me! Mos. Yes, and my patron. Corb. This act shall disinherit him indeed: Here is the will. Mos. ’T is well, sir. Corb. Right and well: Be you as careful now for me.

Mos. My life, sir,10 Is not more tender’d; I am only yours. Corb. How does he? Will he die shortly, think’st thou? Mos. I fear He’ll outlast May. Corb. To-day? Mos. No, last out May, sir. Corb. Couldst thou not gi’ him a dram? Mos. O, by no means, sir. Corb. Nay, I’ll not bid you. Volt. [coming forward.] This is a knave, I see.15 Mos. [Aside, seeing Volt.] How! Signior Voltore! did he hear me? Volt. Parasite! Mos. Who ’s that?—O, sir, most timely welcome— Volt. Scarce, To the discovery of your tricks, I fear. You are his, only? And mine also, are you not? Mos. Who? I, sir! Volt. You, sir. What device is this20 About a will? Mos. A plot for you, sir. Volt. Come, Put not your foists[1678] upon me; I shall scent ’em. Mos. Did you not hear it? Volt. Yes, I hear Corbaccio Hath made your patron there his heir. Mos. ’T is true, By my device, drawn to it by my plot,25 With hope—— Volt. Your patron should reciprocate? And you have promis’d? Mos. For your good I did, sir. Nay, more, I told his son, brought, hid him here, Where he might hear his father pass the deed; Being persuaded to it by this thought, sir,30 That the unnaturalness, first, of the act, And then his father’s oft disclaiming in him, (Which I did mean t’ help on), would sure enrage him To do some violence upon his parent,34 On which the law should take sufficient hold, And you be stated in a double hope. Truth be my comfort, and my conscience, My only aim was to dig you a fortune Out of these two rotten sepulchres—— Volt. I cry thee mercy, Mosca. Mos. —Worth your patience,40 And your great merit, sir. And see the change! Volt. Why, what success? Mos. Most hapless! you must help, sir. Whilst we expected th’ old raven, in comes Corvino’s wife, sent hither by her husband—— Volt. What, with a present? Mos. No, sir, on visitation;45 (I ’ll tell you how anon;) and staying long, The youth he grows impatient, rushes forth, Seizeth the lady, wounds me, makes her swear (Or he would murder her, that was his vow) T’ affirm my patron to have done her rape:50 Which how unlike it is, you see! and hence, With that pretext he ’s gone, t’ accuse his father, Defame my patron, defeat you—— Volt. Where ’s her husband? Let him be sent for straight. Mos. Sir, I ’ll go fetch him. Volt. Bring him to the Scrutineo.[1679] Mos. Sir, I will.55 Volt. This must be stopt. Mos. O you do nobly, sir. Alas, ’t was labour’d all, sir, for your good; Nor was there want of counsel in the plot: But Fortune can, at any time, o’erthrow The projects of a hundred learned clerks, sir.60 Corb. [listening.] What ’s that? Volt. Wilt please you, sir, to go along?

Mos. Patron, go in, and pray for our success. Volp. [rising from his couch.] Need makes devotion: heaven your labour bless! [Exeunt.]