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VOLP: When I am high with mirth and wine; then, then: 'Fore heaven, I wonder at the desperate valour Of the bold English, that they dare let loose Their wives to all encounters!
MOS: Sir, this knight Had not his name for nothing, he is politick, And knows, howe'er his wife affect strange airs, She hath not yet the face to be dishonest: But had she signior Corvino's wife's face-
VOLP: Has she so rare a face?
MOS: O, sir, the wonder, The blazing star of Italy! a wench Of the first year! a beauty ripe as harvest!
Whose skin is whiter than a swan all over, Than silver, snow, or lilies! a soft lip, Would tempt you to eternity of kissing!
And flesh that melteth in the touch to blood!
Bright as your gold, and lovely as your gold!
VOLP: Why had not I known this before?
MOS: Alas, sir, Myself but yesterday discover'd it.
VOLP: How might I see her?
MOS: O, not possible; She's kept as warily as is your gold; Never does come abroad, never takes air, But at a window. All her looks are sweet, As the first grapes or cherries, and are watch'd As near as they are.
VOLP: I must see her.
MOS: Sir, There is a guard of spies ten thick upon her, All his whole household; each of which is set Upon his fellow, and have all their charge, When he goes out, when he comes in, examined.
VOLP: I will go see her, though but at her window.
MOS: In some disguise, then.
VOLP: That is true; I must Maintain mine own shape still the same: we'll think.
[EXEUNT.]
ACT 2. SCENE 2.1.
ST. MARK'S PLACE; A RETIRED CORNER BEFORE CORVINO'S HOUSE.
ENTER SIR POLITICK WOULD-BE, AND PEREGRINE.
SIR P: Sir, to a wise man, all the world's his soil: It is not Italy, nor France, nor Europe, That must bound me, if my fates call me forth.
Yet, I protest, it is no salt desire Of seeing countries, s.h.i.+fting a religion, Nor any disaffection to the state Where I was bred, and unto which I owe My dearest plots, hath brought me out; much less, That idle, antique, stale, gray-headed project Of knowing men's minds, and manners, with Ulysses!
But a peculiar humour of my wife's Laid for this height of Venice, to observe, To quote, to learn the language, and so forth- I hope you travel, sir, with license?
PER: Yes.
SIR P: I dare the safelier converse-How long, sir, Since you left England?
PER: Seven weeks.
SIR P: So lately!
You have not been with my lord amba.s.sador?
PER: Not yet, sir.
SIR P: Pray you, what news, sir, vents our climate?
I heard last night a most strange thing reported By some of my lord's followers, and I long To hear how 'twill be seconded.
PER: What was't, sir?
SIR P: Marry, sir, of a raven that should build In a s.h.i.+p royal of the king's.
PER [ASIDE.]: This fellow, Does he gull me, trow? or is gull'd?
-Your name, sir.
SIR P: My name is Politick Would-be.
PER [ASIDE.]: O, that speaks him.
-A knight, sir?
SIR P: A poor knight, sir.
PER: Your lady Lies here in Venice, for intelligence Of tires, and fas.h.i.+ons, and behaviour, Among the courtezans? the fine lady Would-be?
SIR P: Yes, sir; the spider and the bee, ofttimes, Suck from one flower.
PER: Good Sir Politick, I cry you mercy; I have heard much of you: 'Tis true, sir, of your raven.
SIR P: On your knowledge?
PER: Yes, and your lion's whelping, in the Tower.
SIR P: Another whelp!
PER: Another, sir.
SIR P: Now heaven!
What prodigies be these? The fires at Berwick!
And the new star! these things concurring, strange, And full of omen! Saw you those meteors?
PER: I did, sir.
SIR P: Fearful! Pray you, sir, confirm me, Were there three porpoises seen above the bridge, As they give out?
PER: Six, and a sturgeon, sir.
SIR P: I am astonish'd.
PER: Nay, sir, be not so; I'll tell you a greater prodigy than these.