Part 8 (1/2)

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?