1 Avoc. These things can ne’er be reconciled. He, here,
Professeth, that the gentleman was wrong’d,
And that the gentlewoman was brought thither,
Forced by her husband, and there left.

Volt. Most true.
Cel. How ready is heaven to those that pray!

1 Avoc. But that
Volpone would have ravish’d her, he holds
Utterly false, knowing his impotence.

Corv. Grave fathers, he’s possest; again, I say,
Possest: nay, if there be possession, and
Obsession, he has both.

3 Avoc. Here comes our officer.

Enter Volpone.

Volp. The parasite will straight be here, grave fathers.

4 Avoc. You might invent some other name, sir varlet.

3 Avoc. Did not the notary meet him?

Volp. Not that I know.

4 Avoc. His coming will clear all.

2 Avoc. Yet, it is misty.

Volt. May’t please your fatherhoods—

Volp. [whispers Volt.] Sir, the parasite
Will’d me to tell you, that his master lives;
That you are still the man; your hopes the same;
And this was only a jest—

Volt. How?

Volp. Sir, to try
If you were firm, and how you stood affected.

Volt. Art sure he lives?

Volp. Do I live, sir?

Volt. O me!
I was too violent.

Volp. Sir, you may redeem it.
They said, you were possest; fall down, and seem so:
I’ll help to make it good. [Voltore falls.]—God bless the man!—
Stop your wind hard, and swell—See, see, see, see!
He vomits crooked pins! his eyes are set,
Like a dead hare’s hung in a poulter’s shop!
His mouth’s running away! Do you see, signior?
Now it is in his belly.

Corv. Ay, the devil!

Volp. Now in his throat.

Corv. Ay, I preceive it plain.

Volp. ’Twill out, ’twill out! stand clear. See where it flies,
In shape of a blue toad, with a bat’s wings!
Do you not see it, sir?

Corb. What? I think I do.