Act 5 — Scene IV.[1723]

Per. Am I enough disguis’d? 1 Mer. I warrant you. Per. All my ambition is to fright him only. 2 Mer. If you could ship him away, ’t were excellent. 3 Mer. To Zant, or to Aleppo! Per. Yes, and ha’ his Adventures put i’ th’ Book of Voyages,5 And his gull’d story regist’red for truth. Well, gentlemen, when I am in a while, And that you think us warm in our discourse, Know your approaches. 1 Mer. Trust it to our care. 9 [Exeunt Merchants.]

Per. Save you, fair lady! Is Sir Pol within? Wom. I do not know, sir. Per. Pray you say unto him Here is a merchant, upon earnest business, Desires to speak with him. Wom. I will see, sir. [Exit.] Per. Pray you. I see the family is all female here.

Wom. He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state,15 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. [Exit Woman.] What might be His grave affair of state now! How to make20 Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing One o’ th’ ingredients?

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,25 And studied them for words, as he has done—— But—here he deigns to come. [Exit Woman.]

Sir P. Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanc’d to-day Unkind disaster ’twixt my lady and me; And I was penning my apology,30 To give her satisfaction, as you came now. Per. Sir, I am griev’d I bring you worse disaster: The gentleman you met at th’ port to-day, That told you he was newly arriv’d—— Sir P. Ay, was A fugitive punk? Per. No, sir, a spy set on you:35 And he has made relation to the senate, That you protest to him to have a plot To sell the State of Venice to the Turk. Sir P. O me! Per. For which warrants are sign’d by this time, To apprehend you, and to search your study40 For papers—— Sir P. Alas, sir, I have none, but notes Drawn out of play-books—— Per. All the better, sir. Sir P. And some essays. What shall I do? Per. Sir, best Convey yourself into a sugar-chest; Or, if you could lie round, a frail[1724] were rare;45 And I could send you aboard. Sir P. Sir, I but talk’d so. For discourse sake merely. [They knock without.] Per. Hark! they are there. Sir P. I am a wretch, a wretch! Per. What will you do, sir? Have you ne’er a currant-butt to leap into? They’ll put you to the rack; you must be sudden.50 Sir P. Sir, I have an engine[1725]——— 3 Mer. [within.] Sir Politic Would-be! 2 Mer. [within.] Where is he? Sir P. That I ’ve thought upon before time. Per. What is it? Sir P. I shall ne’er endure the torture. Marry, it is, sir, of a tortoise-shell, Fitted for these extremities: pray you, sir, help me.55 Here I’ve a place, sir, to put back my legs, Please you to lay it on, sir, [Lies down while Per. places the shell upon him.]—with this cap, And my black gloves. I’ll lie, sir, like a tortoise, Till they are gone. Per. And call you this an engine? Sir P. Mine own device.——Good sir, bid my wife’s women60 To burn my papers. [Exit Per.]

1 Mer. Where is he hid? 3 Mer. We must, And will sure find him. 2 Mer. Which is his study?

1 Mer. What Are you, sir? Per. I ’m a merchant, that came here To look upon this tortoise? 3 Mer. How! 1 Mer. St. Mark! What beast is this? Per. It is a fish. 2 Mer. Come out here!65 Per. Nay, you may strike him, sir, and tread upon him; He ’ll bear a cart. 1 Mer. What, to run over him? Per. Yes, sir. 3 Mer. Let ’s jump upon him. 2 Mer. Can he not go? Per. He creeps, sir. 1 Mer. Let ’s see him creep. Per. No, good sir, you will hurt him.69 2 Mer. Heart, I will see him creep, or prick his guts. 3 Mer. Come out here! Per. Pray you, sir, creep a little. 1 Mer. Forth. 2 Mer. Yet further. Per. Good sir!—Creep. 2 Mer. We ’ll see his legs. They pull off the shell and discover him. 3 Mer. Gods so, he has garters! 1 Mer. Ay, and gloves! 2 Mer. Is this Your fearful tortoise? Per. [discovering himself.] Now, Sir Pol, we ’re even; For your next project I shall be prepar’d:75 I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir. 1 Mer. ’T were a rare motion[1726] to be seen in Fleet-street. 2 Mer. Ay, in the Term. 1 Mer. Or Smithfield, in the fair. 3 Mer. Methinks ’t is but a melancholic sight. Per. Farewell, most politic tortoise! [Exeunt Per. and Merchants.]

Sir P. Where ’s my lady?80 Knows she of this? Wom. I know not, sir. Sir P. Enquire.— O, I shall be the fable of all feasts, The freight of the gazetti,[1727] ship-boys’ tale; And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries. Wom. My lady ’s come most melancholic home,85 And says, sir, she will straight to sea, for physic. Sir P. And I, to shun this place and clime for ever. Creeping with house on back, and think it well To shrink my poor head in my politic shell. [Exeunt.]