Ben Jonson - Volpone; Or, The Fox (Act 5 Scene 5.2) lyrics

A HALL IN SIR POLITICK'S HOUSE. ENTER PEREGRINE DISGUISED, AND THREE MERCHANTS. PER Am I enough disguised? 1 MER I warrant you. PER All my ambition is to fright him only. 2 MER If you could ship him away, 'twere excellent. 3 MER To Zant, or to Aleppo? PER Yes, and have his Adventures put i' the Book of Voyages. And his gull'd story register'd 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. [EXEUNT MERCHANTS.] [ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.] PER Save you, fair lady! Is sir Pol within? WOM 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. [RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.] WOM He says, sir, he has weighty affairs of state, 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 make Bolognian sausages here in Venice, sparing One o' the ingredients? [RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.] 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, And studied them for words, as he has done— But—here he deigns to come. [EXIT WOMAN.] [ENTER SIR POLITICK.] SIR P Sir, I must crave Your courteous pardon. There hath chanced to-day, Unkind disaster 'twixt my lady and me; And I was penning my apology, To give her satisfaction, as you came now. PER Sir, I am grieved I bring you worse disaster: The gentleman you met at the port to-day, That told you, he was newly arrived— SIR P Ay, was A fugitive punk? PER No, sir, a spy set on you; And he has made relation to the senate, That you profest 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 study 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 were rare: And I could send you aboard. SIR P Sir, I but talk'd so, For discourse sake merely. [KNOCKING WITHIN.] 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-bu*t to leap into? They'll put you to the rack, you must be sudden. SIR P Sir, I have an ingine— 3 MER [WITHIN.]: Sir Politick Would-be? 2 MER [WITHIN.]: Where is he? SIR P That I have 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. Here I've a place, sir, to put back my legs, Please you to lay it on, sir, [LIES DOWN WHILE PEREGRINE 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 ingine? SIR P Mine own device—Good sir, bid my wife's women To burn my papers. [EXIT PEREGRINE.] [THE THREE MERCHANTS RUSH IN.] 1 MER Where is he hid? 3 MER We must, And will sure find him. 2 MER Which is his study? [RE-ENTER PEREGRINE.] 1 MER What Are you, sir? PER I am 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! 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. 2 MER Heart, I will see him creep, or prick his guts. 3 MER Come out here! PER Pray you, sir! [ASIDE TO SIR POLITICK.] —Creep a little. 1 MER Forth. 2 MER Yet farther. PER Good sir!—Creep. 2 MER We'll see his legs. [THEY PULL OFF THE SHELL AND DISCOVER HIM.] 3 MER Ods so, he has garters! 1 MER Ay, and gloves! 2 MER Is this Your fearful tortoise? PER [DISCOVERING HIMSELF.]: Now, sir Pol, we are even; For your next project I shall be prepared: I am sorry for the funeral of your notes, sir. 1 MER 'Twere a rare motion to be seen in Fleet-street. 2 MER Ay, in the Term. 1 MER Or Smithfield, in the fair. 3 MER Methinks 'tis but a melancholy sight. PER Farewell, most politic tortoise! [EXEUNT PER. AND MERCHANTS.] [RE-ENTER WAITING-WOMAN.] SIR P Where's my lady? 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; ship-boy's tale; And, which is worst, even talk for ordinaries. WOM My lady's come most melancholy home, 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.]