Volt. Taking an inventory! that is well.
Mos. Two suits of bedding, tissue—

Volt. Where’s the Will?
Let me read that the while.

Enter Servants, with Corbaccio in a chair

[Exeunt Servants.

Volt. Is he come now, to trouble us!

Mos. Of cloth of gold, two more—

Corb. Is it done, Mosca?

Mos. Of several velvets eight—

Volt. I like his care.

Corb. Dost thou not hear?

Enter Corvino

Corb. Ha! is the hour come, Mosca?

Volp. [peeping over the curtain.] Ay, now they muster.

Corv. What does the advocate here,
Or this Corbaccio?

Corb. What do these here?

Enter Lady Pol. Would-be.

Lady P. Mosca!
Is his thread spun?

Mos. Eight chests of linen—

Volp. O,
My fine dame Would-be, too!

Corv. Mosca, the Will,
That I may shew it these, and rid them hence.

Mos. Six chests of diaper, four of damask.—There.

[Gives them the Will carelessly, over his shoulder.

Corb. Is that the Will?

Mos. Down-beds and bolsters—

Volp. Rare!
Be busy still. Now they begin to flutter:
They never think of me. Look, see, see, see!
How their swift eyes run over the long deed,
Unto the name, and to the legacies,
What is bequeathed them there—

Mos. Ten suits of hangings—

Volp. Ay, in their garters, Mosca. Now their hopes
Are at the gasp.

Volt. Mosca the heir!