Mos. Sure, sir! why, look you, credit your own sense.
[Shouts in Vol.’s ear.
If it would send you hence the sooner, sir,
For your incontinence, it hath deserv’d it
Thoroughly, and thoroughly, and the plague to boot!—
You may come near, sir.—Would you would once close
Those filthy eyes of yours, that flow with slime,
Like two frog-pits; and those same hanging cheeks,
Cover’d with hide instead of skin—Nay, help, sir—
That look like frozen dish-clouts set on end!
Corv. [aloud.] Or like an old smoked wall, on which the rain
Ran down in streaks!
Mos. Excellent, sir! speak out:
You may be louder yet; a culverin
Discharged in his ear would hardly bore
it.
Corv. His nose is like a common sewer, still running.
Mos. ’Tis good! And what his mouth?
Corv. A very draught.
Mos. O, stop it up—
Corv. By no means.
Mos. ’Pray you, let me:
Faith I could stifle him rarely with a pillow,
As well as any woman that should
keep him.
Corv. Do as you will; but I’ll begone.
Mos. Be so:
It is your presence makes him last so long.
Corv. I pray you, use no violence.
Mos. No, sir! why?
Why should you be thus scrupulous, pray you, sir?
Corv. Nay, at your discretion.
Mos. Well, good sir, begone.
Corv. I will not trouble him now, to take my pearl.
Mos. Puh! nor your diamond. What a needless care
Is this afflicts you? Is not all here yours?
Am not I
here, whom you have made your creature?
That owe my being to you?
Corv. Grateful Mosca!
Thou art my friend, my fellow, my companion,
My partner, and shalt share in all
my fortunes.
Mos. Excepting one.
Corv. What’s that?
Mos. Your gallant wife, sir,—
[Exit Corv.
To shoot him hence, but this.
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