What then did Voltore the lawyer here? Mos. He smelt a carcase, sir, when he but heard My master was about his testament; As I did urge him to it for your good Corb. He came unto him, did he? I thought so. Mos. Yes, and presented him this piece of plate. Mos. I do not know, sir. Corb. True, I know it too. Mos. By your own scale, sir. Corb. Well, I shall prevent him yet. See Mosca, look Here I have brought a bag of bright cecchines, Will quite weigh down his plate. Mos. Yea marry, sir, This is true physic, this your sacred medicine; Corb. Tis aurum palpabile, if not potabile, Mos. Most blessed cordial. This will recover him. Corb. Yes, do, do, do. Mos. I think it were not best, sir. Corb. What? Mos. To recover him. Corb. O, no, no, no; by no means. Mos. Why, sir, this Will work some strange effect if he but feel it. Corb. 'Tis true, therefore forbear, I'll take my venture; Give me't again. Mos. At no hand; pardon me You shall not do yourself that wrong, sir. I Will so advise you, you shall have it all. Corb. How? Mos. All sir, 'tis your right, your own; no man Can claim a part; 'tis yours without a rival, Decreed by destiny. Corb. How? how, good Mosca ? Mos. I'll tell you, sir. This fit he shall recover. Mos. And on first advantage Of his gain'd sense, will I re-importune him And shew him this. If Corb. Good, good. Mos. 'Tis better yet, you will hear, sir. Corb. Yes, with all my heart. Mos. Now, would I counsel you, make home with speed; There frame a will; whereto you shall inscribe My master your sole heir. Corb. And disinherit My son ? Mos. O sir, the better; for that colour Shall make it much more taking. Corb. O, but colour? Mos. This will, sir, you shall send it unto me. Your cares, your watchings, and your many prayers, A son so brave, and highly meriting) The stream of your diverted love hath thrown you He cannot be so stupid, or stone-dead, Corb. This plot Did I think on before. Mos. I do believe it. Corb. Do you not believe it? Mos. Yes, sir. Corb. Mine own project. Mos. Which when he hath done, sir Corb. Corb. Published me his heir? Mos. And you so certain to survive him Mos. Being so lusty a man Corb. 'Tis true. Mos. Yes, sir Corb. I thought on that too. See how he should be Mos. You have not only done yourself a good Corb. Still my invention. Mos. 'Las, sir, heaven knows, It hath been all my study, all my care Mos. You are he, For whom I labour, here. Corb. I, do, do, do: I'll straight about it. Mos. Rook go with you, raven. Corb. I know thee honest. Mos. You do lie, sir Corb. And Mos. Your knowledge is no better than your ears, sir. Corb. I do not doubt to be a father to thee. Mos. Nor I to gull my brother of his blessing. Corb. I may ha' my youth restored to me, why not? Mos. Your worship is a precious ass Corb. What saist thou? Mos. I do desire your worship to make haste, sir. Volp. O, I shall burst; Let out my sides, let out my sides Mos. Contain Your flux of laughter, sir: you know this hope Volp. O, but thy working, and thy placing it! Z 2 [Exit. I cannot I cannot hold good rascal, let me kiss thee: Mos. Alas, sir, I but do, as I am taught; Volp. 'Tis true, 'tis true. What a rare punishment Is avarice to itself! Mos. I, with our help, sir. Volp. So many cares, so many maladies, So many fears attending on old age, Yea, death so often call'd on, as no wish Can be more frequent with 'em, their limbs faint, And all turns air! Who's that there, now? a third? (Another knocks.) Mos. Close to your couch again: I hear his voice. It is Corvino, our spruce merchant. Volp. Dead. Mos. Another bout, sir, with your eyes. Who's there? Corvino, a Merchant, enters. Mos. Signior Corvino! come most wisht for! O, How happy were you, if you knew it now! Corv. Why? what? wherein ? Mos. The tardy hour is come, sir. Corv. He is not dead? Mos. Not dead, sir, but as good; He knows no man. Corv. How shall I do then? Mos. Mos. Why, sir? Corv. I have brought him here a pearl. So much remembrance left, as to know you, sir: Corv. Venice was never owner of the like. Mos. Hark. Volp. Signior Corvino. ५ Mos. He calls you, step and give it him. He's here, sir? And he has brought you a rich pearl. Corv. How do you, sir? Tell him it doubles the twelfth caract. He cannot understand, his hearing's gone; And yet it comforts him to see you Corv. Say, I have a diamond for him too, Mos. Best shew't, sir, Put it into his hand; tis only there He apprehends: he has his feeling yet. See how he graps it! Corv. 'Las, good gentleman! How pitiful the sight is! Mos. Tut forget, sir. The weeping of an heir should still be laughter, Corv. Why, am I his heir? Mos. Sir, I am sworn, I may not shew the will, Paper, and pen, and ink, and there I ask'd him, Should |