The Alchemist (play)  

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The Alchemist is a comedy by English playwright Ben Jonson. First performed in 1610 by the King's Men, it is generally considered Jonson's best and most characteristic comedy; Samuel Taylor Coleridge claimed that it had one of the three most perfect plots in literature. The play's clever fulfillment of the classical unities and vivid depiction of human folly have made it one of the few Renaissance plays (excepting of course the works of Shakespeare) with, apart from a period of neglect during the Victorian era, a continual life on stage.

Trivia

The term dildo first appeared in English language print when Ben Jonson's 1610 play, The Alchemist, was published in 1616.

The incipit "I fart at thee" is reminiscent of Merdre.

Full text

T H E

ALCHEMIST.

A C O M E D Y.

First Acted in the Year 1610. By the K I N G S M A J E S T Y' S Servants.

With the Allowance of the Master of R E V E L S.

The Author B. J.

              ----------petere inde coronam,
  Unde prius nulli verlarint tempora Musæ.  Lucret.


To the L A D Y most deserving Her N A M E and B L O O D,

Mary Lady Wroth.

  M A D A M,

I N the Age of Sacrifices, the Truth of Religion was not in the Greatness and Fat of the Offerings, but in the Devotion and Zeal of the Sacrificers: Else what could a Handful of Gums have done in the sight of a Hecatomb? Or, how might I appear at this Altar, except with those Affections that no less love the Light and Witness, than they have the Conscience of your Vertue? If what I offer bear an acceptable Odour, and hold the first Strength, it is your Value of it, which remembers where, when, and to whom it was kindled. Otherwise, as the Times are, there comes rarely forth that Thing so full of Authority or Example, but by Assiduity and Custom grows less, and loses. This, yet, safe in your Judgment (which is a SI D N E Y S) is forbidden to speak more, lest it talk or look like one of the Ambitious Faces of the Time, who the more they paint, are the less themselves.

Your Ladiships true Honourer,

BEN. JOHNSON.


E e


210

The P E R S O N S of the P L A Y.

S U B T L E, the Alchemist. E P I C U R E M A M M O N, a Knight. F A C E, the House-keeper. S U R L E Y, a Gamester. D O L. C O M M O N, their Colleague. T R I B U L A T I O N, a Pastor of Amsterdam. D A P P E R, a Clerk. A N A N I A S, a Deacon there. D R U G G E R, a Tabacco-man. K A S T R I L L, the angry Boy. L O V E-W I T, Master of the House. D A. P L I A N T, his Sister; a Widow.

N E I G H B O U R S.

O F F I C E R S.

M U T E S.


The S C E N E

L O N D O N.


The Principal C O M œ D I A N S were,

RIC. BURBADGE.

JOH. LOWIN.

HEN. CONDEL.

ALEX. COOKE.

ROB. ARMIN JOH. HEMINGS.

WILL. OSTLER.

JOH. UNDERWOOD.

NIC. TOOLY.

WILL. EGLESTONE.


T H E


211 T H E ALCHEMIST.

T H E A R G U M E N T.

T he Sickness hot, a Master quit, for fear, H is House in Town, and left one Servant there. E ase him corrupted, and gave means to know


A Cheater, and his Punk; who, now brought low, L eaving their narrow Practice, were become C os'ners at large; and only wanting some H ouse to set up, with him they here contract, E ach for a Share, and all begin to act. M uch Company they draw, and much abuse, I n casting Figures, telling Fortunes, News, S elling of Flies, flat Bawd'ry, with the Stone; T ill it, and they, and all in Fume are gone.

P R O L O G U E.

F

Ortune, that favours Fools, these two short Hours

  We wish away, both for your sakes, and ours,
Judging Spectators; and desire in place,
  To th' Author Justice, to our selves but Grace.

Our Scene is London, 'cause we would make known,

  No Countries Mirth is better than our own:

No Clime breeds better Matter for your Whore,

  Bawd, Squire, Impostor, many Persons more,

Whose Manners, now call'd Humours, feed the Stage;

  And which have still been Subject for the Rage

Or Spleen of Comick Writers. Though this Pen

  Did never aim to grieve, but better Men;

Howe'er the Age he lives in doth endure

  The Vices that she breeds, above their Cure.

But when the wholesom Remedies are sweet,

  And in their working Gain and Profit meet,

He hopes to find no Spirit so much diseas'd,

  But will with such fair Correctives be pleas'd:

For here he doth not fear who can apply.

  If there be any that will sit so nigh

Unto the Stream, to look what it doth run,

  They shall find things, they'ld think, or wish, were done;

They are so natural Follies, but so shown,

  As even the Doers may see, and yet now own.


Act I. Scene I.

Face, Subtle, Dol Common.

B Eliev't, I will. Sub. Thy worst. I fart at thee.

  Dol. Ha' you your Wits? Why Gentlemen! for

love —

  Fac. Sirrah, I'll strip you — Sub. What to do? lick Figs

Out at my — Fac. Rogue, Rogue, out of all your sleights.

[column break]

  Dol. Nay, look ye, Sovereign, General, are you Madmen?
  Sub. O, let the wild Sheep loose. I'll Gum your Silks

With good Strong-warter,Strong-water an' you come.

  Dol. Will you have

The Neighbours hear you? Will you betray all? Heark, I hear some body. Fac. Sirrah — Sub. I shall mar All that the Taylor has made, if you approach.

  Fac. You most notorious Whelp, you insolent Slave,

Dare you do this? Sub. Yes faith, yes faith. Fac. Why, who Am I, my Mungril? who am I? Sub. I'll tell you, Since you know not your self — Fac. Speak lower, Rogue.

  Sub. Yes. You were once (time's not long past) the good,

Honest, plain, Livery-three-pound-thrum, that kept Your Masters Worships House here in the Friers, For the Vacations — Fac. Will you be so lowd?

  Sub. Since, by my means, translated Suburb-Captain.
  Fac. By your means, Doctor Dog?
  Sub. Within Man's memory,

All this I speak of. Fac. Why, I pray you, have I Been countenanc'd by you, or you by me? Do but collect, Sir, where I met you first.

  Sub. I do not hear well.   Fac. Not of this, I think it.

But I shall put you in mind, Sir; at Pie-corner, Taking your meal of Steam in, from Cooks Stalls; Where, like the Father of Hunger, you did walk Piteously costive, with your pinch'd-horn-nose, And your Complexion of the Roman Wash, Stuck full of black and melancholick Worms, Like Powder-corns shot at th' Artillery-yard.

  Sub. I wish you could advance your Voice a little.
  Fac. When you went pinn'd up in the several Rags

Yo' had rak'd and pick'd from Dunghils, before day; Your Feet in mouldy Slippers, for your Kibes A Felt of Rug, and a thin thredden Cloke, That scarce would cover your no-Buttock ——

  Sub. So, Sir!
  Fac. When all your Alchemy, and your Algebra,

Your Minerals, Vegetals, and Animals, E e 2 Your


212 The Alchemist.

Your Conjuring, Coz'ning, and your dozen of Trades, Could not relieve your Corps with so much Linnen Would make you Tinder, but to see a Fire; I ga' you Count'nance, Credit for your Coals, Your Stills, your Glasses, your Materials; Built you a Fornace, drew you Customers, Advanc'd all your black Arts; lent you, beside, A House to practise in — Sub. Your Master's House?

  Fac. Where you have studied the more thriving Skill

Of Bawd'ry since. Sub. Yes, in your Master's House. You and the Rats here kept possession. Make it not strange. I know yo' were one could keep The Buttry-hatch still lock'd, and save the Chippings, Sell the Dole-Beer to Aqua-vitæ-men, The which, together with you Christmass Vails At Post and Pair, your letting out of Counters, Made you a pretty Stock, some twenty Marks, And gave you credit to converse with Cobwebs, Here, since your Mistris Death hath broke up House.

  Fac. You might talk softlier, Rascal.   Sub. No, you Scarabe,

I'll thunder you in pieces: I will teach you How to beware to tempt a Fury again, That carries Tempest in his Hand and Voice.

  Fac. The Place has made you valiant.
  Sub. No, your Clothes.

Thou Vermin, have I tane thee out of Dung, So poor, so wretched, when no living thing Would keep thee Company, but a Spider, or worse? Rais'd thee from Brooms, and Dust, and Watring Pots? Sublim'd thee, and exalted thee, and fix'd thee I' the Third Region, call'd our State of Grace? Wrought thee to Spirit, to Quintessence, with pains Would twice have won me the Philosopher's Work? Put thee in Words and Fashion, made thee fit For more than ordinary Fellowships? Giv'n thee thy Oaths, thy quarelling Dimensions? Thy Rules to cheat at Horse-race, Cock-pit, Cards, Dice, or whatever gallant Tincture else? Made thee a Second in mine own great Art? And have I this for thanks? Do you rebel? Do you fly out i' the Projection? Would you be gone now?

  Dol. Gentlemen, what mean you?

Will you mar all? Sub. Slave, thou hadst had no Name —

  Dol. Will you undo your selves with Civil War?
  Sub. Never been known, past Equi clibanum,

The heat of Horse-dung, under Ground, in Cellars, Or an Ale-house darker than deaf John's; been lost To all Mankind, but Laundresses and Tapsters, Had not I been.

  Dol. Do you know who hears you, Sovereign?
  Fac. Sirrah ——
  Dol. Nay, General, I thought you were civil ——
  Fac. I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus lowd.
  Sub. And hang thy self, I care not.
  Fac. Hang thee, Colliar,

And all thy Pots and Pans, in Picture, I will, Since thou hast mov'd me ———

  Dol. (O, this 'll orethrow all.)
  Fac. Write thee up Bawd in Pauls, have all thy Tricks

Of coz'ning with a hollow Coal, Dust, Scrapings, Searching for things lost with a Sieve and Shears, Erecting Figures in your Rows of Houses, And taking in of Shadows with a Glass, Told in Red Letters; and a Face cut for thee, Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's. Dol. Are you sound? Ha' you your Senses, Masters? Fac. I will have A Book, but barely reckoning thy Impostures, Shall prove a true Philosophers Stone, to Printers.

  Sub. Away, you Trencher-Rascal.
  Fac. Out, you Dog-leach,

The Vomit of all Prisons — Dol. Will you be Your own Destructions, Gentlemen? Still spew'd out For lying too heavy o' the Basket.

[column break]

  Sub. Cheater.   Fac. Bawd.
  Sub. Cow-herd.   Fac. Conjurer.   Sub. Cut-purse.
  Fac. Witch.   Dol. O me!

We are ruin'd! lost! Ha' you no more regard To your Reputations? Where's your Judgment? 'Slight, Have yet some care of me, o' your Republick —

  Fac. Away, this Brach. I'll bring thee, Rogue, within

The Statute of Sorcery, Tricesimo tertio Of Harry the Eighth: I, and (perhaps) thy Neck Within a Noose, for laundring Gold, and barbing it.

  Dol. You'll bring your Head within a Cockscomb,

will you? [She catches out Face's Sword, and breaks Subtle's Glass.

And you, Sir, with your Menstrue, gather it up. 'Sdeath, you abominable Pair of Stinkards, Leave off your Barking, and grow one again, Or, by the Light that shines, I'll cut your Throats. I'll not be made a Prey unto the Marshal, For ne'er a snarling Dog-bolt o' you both. Ha' you together cozen'd all this while, And all the World? and shall it now be said, Yo' have made most courteous shift to cozen your selves? You will accuse him? You will bring him in Within the Statute? Who shall take your word? A whoreson, upstart, Apocryphal Captain, Whom not a Puritan in Black-Friars will trust So much as for a Feather! And you too Will give the Cause, forsooth? You will insult, And claim a Primacy in the Divisions? You must be Chief? As if you only had The Powder to project with, and the Work Were not begun out of Equality? The Venture Tripartite? All things in common? Without Priority? 'Sdeath, you perpetual Curs, Fall to your Couples again, and cozen kindly, And heartily, and lovingly, as you should, And lose not the beginning of a Term, Or, by this Hand, I shall grow factious too, And take my part, and quit you. Fac. 'Tis his fault, He ever murmurs, and objects his Pains, And says, the weight of all lies upon him.

  Sub. Why, so it does.   Dol. How does it? Do not we

Sustain our Parts? Sub. Yes, but they are not equal.

  Dol. Why, if your Part exceed to day, I hope

Ours may to morrow match it. Sub. I, they may.

  Dol. May, murmuring Mastiff! I, and do. Death on me!

Help me to throttle him. Sub. Dorothee, Mistris Dorothee, 'Ods precious, I'll do any thing. What do you mean?

  Dol. Because o' your Fermentation and Cibation?
  Sub. Not I, by Heaven ——
  Dol. Your Sol and Luna — help me.
  Sub. Would I were hang'd then. I'll conform my self.
  Dol. Will you, Sir? Do so then, and quickly: swear.
  Sub. What should I swear?
  Dol. To leave your Faction, Sir,

And labour kindly in the Common Work.

  Sub. Let me not breathe, if I meant ought beside.

I only us'd those Speeches as a Spur To him. Dol. I hope we need no Spurs, Sir. Do we?

  Fac. 'Slid, prove to day, who shall shark best.
  Sub. Agreed.
  Dol. Yes, and work close, and friendly.
  Sub. 'Slight, the Knot

Shall grow the stronger for this Breach, with me.

  Dol. Why, so my good Baboons! Shall we go make

A sort of sober, scurvy, precise Neighbours, (That scarce have smil'd twice sin' the King came in) A Feast of Laughter at our Follies? Rascals, Would run themselves from breath, to see me ride, Or you t'have but a Hole to thrust your Heads in, For which you should pay Ear-rent? No, agree. And may Don Provost ride a feasting long, In his old Velvet Jerkin and stain'd Scarfs, (My noble Sovereign, and worthy General) Ere


           The Alchemist.	213

Ere we contribute a new Crewel Garter To his most Worsted Worship. Sub. Royal Dol! Spoken like Claridiana, and thy self.

  Fac. For which, at Supper, thou shalt sit in triumph,

And not be styl'd Dol Common, but Dol Proper, Dol Singular: The longest Cut, at Night, Shall draw thee for his Dol Particular.

  Sub. Who's that? one rings. To the Windo', Dol.

Pray Heav'n, The Master do not trouble us this Quarter.

  Fac. O, fear not him. While there dies one a Week

O' the Plague, he's safe, from thinking toward London. Beside, he's busie at his Hop-yards now: I had a Letter from him. If he do, He'll send such word, for airing o' the House, As you shall have sufficient time to quit it: Though we break up a Fortnight, 'tis no matter.

  Sub. Who is it, Dol?
  Dol. A fine young Quodling.   Fac. O,

My Lawyers Clerk, I lighted on last night In Holborn, at the Dagger. He would have (I told you of him) a Familiar, To rifle with at Horses, and win Cups.

  Dol. O, let him in.
  Sub. Stay. Who shall do't?   Fac. Get you

Your Robes on: I will meet him, as going out.

  Dol. And what shall I do?   Fac. Not be seen, away.

Seem you very reserv'd.

  Sub. Enough.   Fac. God b' w' you, Sir.

I pray you let him know that I was here. His Name is Dapper. I would gladly have staid, but —

Act I. Scene II.

Dapper, Face, Subtle.

C Aptain, I am here.

  Fac. Who's that? He's come, I think, Doctor.

Good faith, Sir, I was going away. Dap. In truth, I am very sorry, Captain. Fac. But I thought Sure I should meet you. Dap. I, I am very glad. I had a scurvy Writ or two to make, And I had lent my Watch last night to one That dines to day at the Sheriffs, and so was robb'd Of my pass-time. Is this the Cunning-man?

  Fac. This is his Worship.   Dap. Is he a Doctor?   Fac. Yes.
  Dap. And ha' you broke with him, Captain?
  Fac. I.   Dap. And how?
  Fac. Faith, he does make the matter, Sir, so dainty,

I know not what to say — Dap. Not so, good Captain.

  Fac. Would I were fairly rid on't, believe me.
  Dap. Nay, now you grieve me, Sir. Why should you

wish so? I dare assure you, I'll not be ungrateful.

  Fac. I cannot think you will, Sir. But the Law

Is such a thing — And then he says, Read's Matter Falling so lately — Dap. Read? He was an Ass, And dealt, Sir, with a Fool. Fac. It was a Clerk, Sir.

  Dap. A Clerk?
  Fac. Nay, hear me, Sir, you know the Law

Better, I think — Dap. I should, Sir, and the Danger. You know, I shew'd the Statute to you? Fac. You did so.

  Dap. And will I tell then? By this Hand of Flesh,

Would it might never write good Court-hand more, If I discover. What do you think of me, That I am a Chiause?

  Fac. What's that?   Dap. The Turk was, here —

As one would say, Do you think I am a Turk?

  Fac. I'll tell the Doctor so.
  Dap. Do, good sweet Captain.
  Fac. Come, noble Doctor, pray thee let's prevail;

This is the Gentleman, and he is no Chiause.

  Sub. Captain, I have return'd you all my Answer.

I would do much, Sir, for your Love — But this

[column break]

I neither may, nor can. Fac. Tut, do not say so. You deal now with a noble Fellow, Doctor, One that will thank you richly, and h' is no Chiause: Let that, Sir, move you.

  Sub. Pray you, forbear —— Fac. He has

Four Angels here —— Sub. You do me wrong, good Sir.

  Fac. Doctor, wherein? To tempt you with these Spirits?
  Sub. To tempt my Art, and Love, Sir, to my peril.

'Fore Heav'n, I scarce can think you are my Friend, That so would draw me to apparent danger.

  Fac. I draw you? A Horse draw you, and a Halter,

You, and your Flies together — Dap. Nay, good Captain.

  Fac. That know no difference of Men.
  Sub. Good words, Sir.
  Fac. Good deeds, Sir, Doctor Dogs-meat.

'Slight, I bring you No cheating Clim o' the Cloughs, or Claribels, That look as big as Five-and-fifty, and Flush, And spit out Secrets like hot Custard — Dap. Captain.

  Fac. Nor any melancholick Under-scribe,

Shall tell the Vicar; but a special Genteel, That is the Heir to Forty Marks a Year, Consorts with the small Poets of the time, Is the sole Hope of his old Grandmother, That knows the Law, and writes you six fair Hands, Is a fine Clerk, and has his Cyph'ring perfect, Will take his Oath o' the Greek Xenophon, If need be, in his Pocket; and can court His Mistris out of Ovid. Dap. Nay, dear Captain.

  Fac. Did you not tell me so?   Dap. Yes, but I'ld ha' you

Use Master Doctor with some more respect.

  Fac. Hang him, proud Stag, with his broad Velvet Head.

But for your sake, I'ld choak, ere I would change An Article of Breath with such a Puckfoist —— Come, let's be gone. Sub. Pray you le' me speak with you.

  Dap. His Worship calls you,Captain.   Fac. I am sorry

I ere imbark'd my self in such a Business,

  Dap. Nay, good Sir, he did call you.
  Fac. Will he take then?
  Sub. First, hear me ——
  Fac. Not a Syllable, 'less you take.
  Sub. Pray ye, Sir ——
  Fac. Upon no Terms, but an Assumpsit.

[He takes the

     Money.
  Sub. Your Humour must be Law.
  Fac. Why now, Sir, talk.

Now I dare hear you with mine Honour. Speak. So may this Gentleman too.

  Sub. Why, Sir —— Fac. No whispering.
  Sub. 'Fore Heav'n, you do not apprehend the Loss

You do your self, in this. Fac. Wherein? For what?

  Sub. Marry, to be so importunate for one,

That, when he has it, will undo you all: He'll win up all the Money i' the Town.

  Fac. How!
  Sub. Yes, and blow up Gamester after Gamester,

As they do Crackers in a Puppet-play. If I do give him a Familiar, Give you him all you play for; never set him: For he will have it. Fac. You are mistaken, Doctor. Why, he does ask one but for Cups and Horses, A rifling Fly; none o' your great Familiars.

  Dap. Yes, Captain, I would have it for all Games.
  Sub. I told you so.   Fac. 'Slight, that's a new Business!

I understood you, a tame Bird, to fly Twice in a Term, or so, on Friday Nights, When you had left the Office, for a Nag Of forty or fifty Shillings. Dap. I, 'tis true, Sir; But I do think now I shall leave the Law, And therefore — Fac. Why, this changes quite the Case! Do' you think that I dare move him?

  Dap. If you please, Sir;

All's one to him, I see. Fac. What! for that Money? I cannot with my Conscience: Nor should you Make the Request, methinks. Dap. No, Sir, I mean To


214 The Alchemist.

To add Consideration. Fac. Why then, Sir, I'll try. Say that it were for all Games, Doctor?

  Sub. I say then, not a Mouth shall eat for him

At any Ordinary, but o' the Score, That is a Gaming Mouth, conceive me. Fac. Indeed!

  Sub. He'll draw you all the Treasure of the Realm,

If it be set him. Fac. Speak you this from Art?

  Sub. I, Sir, and Reason too, the Ground of Art.

H' is o' the only best Complexion, The Queen of Fairy loves. Fac. What! is he! Sub. Peace. He'll over-hear you. Sir, should she but see him —

  Fac. What?   Sub. Do not you tell him.
  Fac. Will he win at Cards too?
  Sub. The Spirits of dead Holland, living Isaac,

You'ld swear, were in him; such a vigorous Luck As cannot be resisted. 'Slight, he'll put Six o' your Gallants to a Cloak, indeed.

  Fac. A strange Success, that some Man shall be born to!
  Sub. He hears you, Man —
  Dap. Sir, I'll not be ingrateful.
  Fac. Faith, I have confidence in his good nature:

You hear, he says he will not be ingrateful.

  Sub. Why, as you please; my Venture follows yours.
  Fac. Troth, do it, Doctor; think him trusty, and make him.

He may make us both happy in an Hour; Win some five thousand Pound, and send us two o' it.

  Dap. Believe it, and I will, Sir.   Fac. And you shall, Sir.

You have heard all?

  Dap. No, what was't? nothing, I, Sir.

[Face takes him aside.

  Fac. Nothing?
  Dap. A little, Sir.   Fac. Well, a rare Star

Reign'd at your Birth.

  Dap. At mine, Sir? No.   Fac. The Doctor

Swears that you are —

  Sub. Nay, Captain, you'll tell all now.
  Fac. Allied to the Queen of Fairy.
  Dap. Who? that I am?

Believe it, no such matter — Fac. Yes, and that Yo' were born with a Cawl o' your Head.

  Dap. Who says so?   Fac. Come,

You know it well enough, tho' you dissemble it.

  Dap. I-fac, I do not: You are mistaken.   Fac. How!

Swear by your fac? and in a thing so known Unto the Doctor? How shall we, Sir, trust you I' the other matter? Can we ever think, When you have won five or six thousand Pound, You'll send us Shares in't, by this rate? Dap. By Jove, Sir, I'll win ten thousand Pound, and send you half. I-fac's no Oath. Sub. No, no, he did but jest.

  Fac. Go to. Go thank the Doctor. He's your Friend,

To take it so. Dap. I thank his Worship. Fac. So: Another Angel. Dap. Must I? Fac. Must you? 'Slight, What else is Thanks? Will you be trivial? Doctor, When must he come for his Familiar?

  Dap. Shall I not ha' it with me?   Sub. O, good Sir!

There must a World of Ceremonies pass, You must be bath'd and fumigated first: Besides, the Queen of Fairy does not rise Till it be Noon. Fac. Not, if she danc'd, to night.

  Sub. And she must bless it.   Fac. Did you never see

Her Royal Grace yet? Dap. Whom? your Aunt of Fairy?

  Sub. Not since she kist him in the Cradle, Captain;

I can resolve you that. Fac. Well, see her Grace, Whatere it cost you, for a thing that I know. It will be somewhat hard to compass; but However, see her. Her Grace is a lone Woman, And very rich; and if she take a Phant'sie, She will do strange things. See her, at any hand. 'Slid, she may hap to leave you all she has! It is the Doctor's fear. Dap. How will't be done then?

  Fac. Let me alone, take you no thought. Do you

But say to me, Captain, I'll see her Grace.

  Dap. Captain, I'll see her Grace.   Fac. Enough.

[column break]

[One knocks without.

  Sub. VVho's there?

Anon. (Conduct him forth by the back way.) Sir, against one a clock prepare your self: Till when you must be fasting; only take Three drops of Vinegar in at your Nose, Two at your Mouth, and one at either Ear; Then bath your Fingers ends, and wash your Eyes, To sharpen your Five Senses, and cry Hum Thrice, and then Buz as often; and then come.

  Fac. Can you remember this?   Dap. I warrant you.
  Fac. VVell then, away. 'Tis but your bestowing

Some Twenty Nobles 'mong her Graces Servants, And put on a clean Shirt: You do not know VVhat her Grace may do you in clean Linnen.

Act I. Scene III.

Subtle, Drugger, Face.

C Ome in: (Good Wives, I pray you forbear me now:

Troth I can do you no good till after-noon.)

What is your Name, say you? Abel Drugger? Dru. Yes, Sir.

  Sub. A Seller of Tabacco?   Dru. Yes, Sir.   Sub. Umh.

Free of the Grocers? Dru. I, an't please you. Sub. Well — Your Business, Abel? Dru. This, an't please your Worship; I am a young Beginner, and am building Of a new Shop, an't like your Worship, just At corner of a Street: (Here's the Plot on't.) And I would know by Art, Sir, of your VVorship, VVhich way I should make my Door, by Necromancy, And where my Shelves; and which should be for Boxes, And which for Pots. I would be glad to thrive, Sir. And I was wish'd to your VVorship by a Gentleman, One Captain Face, that says you know Mens Planets, And their good Angels, and their bad. Sub. I do, If I do see 'em — Fac. VVhat! my honest Abel? Thou art well met here. Dru. Troth, Sir, I was speaking, Just as your VVorship came here, of your VVorship. I pray you speak for me to Master Doctor.

  Fac. He shall do any thing. Doctor, do you hear?

This is my Friend, Abel, an honest Fellow; He lets me have good Tabacco, and he does not Sophisticate it with Sack-lees or Oil, Nor washes it in Muscadel and Grains, Nor buries it in Gravel, under Ground, VVrapp'd up in greasie Leather, or piss'd Clouts: But keeps it in fine Lilly-pots, that open'd, Smell like Conserve of Roses, or French Beans. He has his Maple Block, his Silver Tongs, Winchester Pipes, and Fire of Juniper, A neat, spruce, honest Fellow, and no Goldsmith.

  Sub. H' is a fortunate Fellow, that I am sure on —
  Fac. Already, Sir, ha' you found it? Lo' thee, Abel!
  Sub. And in right way to'ward Riches —
  Fac. Sir.   Sub. This Summer

He will be of the Clothing of his Company, And next Spring call'd to the Scarlet; spend what he can.

  Fac. What, and so little Beard?   Sub. Sir, you must think,

He may have a Receit to make Hair come: But he'll be wise, preserve his Youth, and fine for't; His Fortune looks for him another way.

  Fac. 'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soon?

I am amus'd at that! Sub. By a Rule, Captain, In Metaposcopy, which I do work by; A certain Star i' the Forehead, which you see not. Your Chestnut, or your Olive-colour'd Face Do's never fail: and your long Ear doth promise. I knew't, by certain spots too, in his Teeth, And on the Nail of his Mercurial Finger.

  Fac. Which Finger's that?   Sub. His little Finger. Look.

Yo' were born upon a Wednesday?

  Dru. Yes indeed, Sir.
  Sub. The Thumb, in Chiromanty, we give Venus;

The Fore-finger, to Jove; the midst, to Saturn; The


           The Alchemist.	215

The ring, to Sol; the least, to Mercury: Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope, His house of life being Libra; which fore-shew'd, He should be a Merchant, and should trade with Ballance.

  Fac. Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?
  Sub. There is a Ship now, coming from Ormus,

That shall yield him, such a commodity Of drugs — This is the West, and this the South?

  Dru. Yes, Sir.   Sub. And those are your two sides?
  Dru. I, Sir.
  Sub. Make me your Door, then, South; your Broad-
     side, West:

And, on the East-side of your Shop, aloft, Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat; Upon the North-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel. They are the names of those Mercurial Spirits, That do fright Flyes from Boxes. Dru. Yes, Sir. Sub. And Beneath your threshold, bury me a Load-stone To draw in Gallants, that wear Spurs: The rest, They'll seem to follow. Fac. That's a secret, Nab!

  Sub. And, on your Stall, a Puppet, with a Vice,

And a Court fucus to call City-dames. You shall deal much with Minerals. Dru. Sir, I have At home, already — Sub. I, I know, you have Arsnike, Vitriol, Sal-tartre, Argaile, Alkaly, Cinoper: I know all. This Fellow, Captain, Will come, in time, to be a great Distiller, And give a Say (I will not say directly, But very fair) at the Philosophers stone.

  Fac. Why, how now, Abel! is this true?   Dru. Good
     Captain,

What must I give? Fac. Nay, I'll not counsel thee. Thou hear'st what Wealth (he says, spend what thou

     canst)

Th'art like to come too. Dru. I would gi' him a Crown.

  Fac. A Crown! and toward such a Fortune? Heart,

Thou shalt rather gi' him thy Shop. No Gold about thee?

  Dru. Yes, I have a Portague, I ha' kept this half year.
  Fac. Out on thee, Nab. 'Slight, there was such an offer —

'Shalt keep't no longer, I'll gi' it him for thee? Doctor, Nab prays your Worship to drink this, and

     swears

He will appear more grateful, as your skill Do's raise him in the World. Dru. I would intreat Another favour of his Worship. Fac. What is't, Nab?

  Dru. But, to look over, Sir, my Almanack,

And cross out my ill-days, that I may neither Bargain, nor trust upon them. Fac. That he shall Nab. Leave it, it shall be done, 'gainst Afternoon.

  Sub. And a direction for his Shelves.   Fac. Now, Nab?

Art thou well pleas'd, Nab? Dru. 'Thank, Sir, both your

     Worships.
  Fac. Away.

Why, now you smoky persecuter of Nature! Now do you see, that some-thing's to be done, Beside your Beech-coal, and your cor'sive Waters, Your Crosslets, Crucibles, and Cucurbites? You must have Stuff, brought home to you, to work on? And, yet, you think, I am at no expence, In searching out these Veins, then following 'em, Then trying 'em out. 'Fore God, my intelligence Cost me more Money, than my share oft comes too, In these rare Works. Sub. You'are pleasant, Sir. How now?

Act I. Scene IV.

Face, Dol, Subtle.

W Hat says my dainty Dolkin? Dol. Yonder Fish-wife

Will not away. And there's your Giantess,

The Bawd of Lambeth. Sub. Heart, I cannot speak with 'em.

  Dol. Not afore night, I have told 'em, in a Voice,

Thorough the Trunk, like one of your Familiars. But I have spied Sir Epicure Mammon — Sub. Where?

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  Dol. Coming along, at far end of the Lane,

Slow of his Feet, but earnest of his Tongue, To one that's with him. Sub. Face, go you, and shift. Dol, you must presently make ready, too ——

  Dol. Why, what's the matter?   Sub. O, I did look for him

With the Suns rising: 'Marvel, he could sleep! This is the day I am to perfect for him The Magisterium, our great work, the Stone: And yield it, made, into his hands: of which, He has, this Month, talk'd, as he were possess'd. And now he's dealing pieces on't away, Me thinks I see him entring Ordinaries, Dispensing for the Pox, and Plaguy-houses, Reaching his Dose, walking Moore-fields for Lepers, And offering Citizens-wives Pomander-braclets, As his perservative, made of the Elixir; Searching the Spittle, to make old Bawds young; And the High-ways, for Beggars, to make rich: I see no end of his Labours. He will make Nature asham'd, of her long sleep: when Art, Who's but a Step-dame, shall do more than she, In her best to love to Mankind, ever could. If his Dream last, he'll turn the Age to Gold.


Act II. Scene I.

Mammon, Surly.

C Ome on, Sir. Now, you set your Foot on Shore

In novo Orbe; Here's the rich Peru:

And there within, Sir, are the Golden Mines, Great Solomon's Ophir! He was sayling to't, Three years, but we have reach'd it in ten Months. This is the day, wherein, to all my Friends, I will pronounce the happy word, Be Rich. This day you shall be spectatissimi. You shall no more deal with the hollow Dye, Or the frail Card. No more be at charge of keeping The Livery-punk, for the young Heir, that must Seal, at all Hours, in his Shirt. No more, If he deny, ha' him beaten to't, as he is That brings him the Commodity. No more Small thirst of Sattin, or the Covetous hunger Of Velvet Entrails, for a rude-spun Cloke, To be displaid at Madam Augusta's, make The Sons of Sword, and Hazzard fall before The Golden Calf, and on their Knees, whole Nights, Commit Idolatry with Wine, and Trumpets: Or go a feasting, after Drum and Ensign. No more of this. You shall start up young Vice-rois, And have your Punques, and Punquetees, my Surly. } Within } Sir. And unto thee, I speak it first, Be Rich. Where is my Subtle, there? Within hough? He'll come to you, by and by.

  Mam. That's his Fire-drake,

His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffs his Coals, Till he firk Nature up, in her own Center. You are not faithful, Sir. This night, I'll change All, that is Metal, in thy House, to Gold. And, early in the Merning,Morning will I send To all the Plumbers, and the Pewterers, And buy their Tin, and Lead up: and to Lothbury, For all the Copper. Sur. What, and turn that too?

  Mam. Yes, and I'll purchase Devonshire, and Cornwall,

And make them perfect Indies! You admire now?

  Sur. No faith.   Mam. But when you see th' effects
     of the great Medicine!

Of which one part projected on a hundred Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon, Shall turn it to as many of the Sun; Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum: You will believe me. Sur. Yes, when I see't, I will. But, if my Eyes do cozen me so (and I Giving


216 The Alchemist.

Giving 'em no occasion) sure I'll have A Whore, shall piss 'em out, next day. Mam. Ha! Why? Do you think, I Fable with you? I assure you, He that has once the flower of the Sun, The perfect Ruby, which we call Elixir, Not only can do that, but by it's Vertue, Can confer Honour, Love, Respect, long Life, Give Safety, Valour, yea, and Victory, To whom he will. In Eight and twenty days, I'll make an old Man, of Fourscore, a Child,

  Sur. No doubt, he's that already.   Mam. Nay, I mean,

Restore his years, renew him, like an Eagle, To the fifth Age; make him get Sons and Daughters, Young Giants; as our Philosophers have done (The antient Patriarks afore the Flood) But taking, once a Week, on a Knives Point, The quantity of a Grain of Mustard of it: Become stout Marses, and beget young Cupids.

  Sur. The decay'd Vestals of Pickt-hatch would thank
     you,

That keep the Fire a-live, there. Mam. 'Tis the secret Of Nature, naturiz'd 'gainst all Infections, Cures all Diseases, coming of all Causes; A month's Grief in a day; a years in twelve: And, of what Age soever, in a month. Past all the Doses of your drugging Doctors. I'll undertake, withal, to fright the Plague Out o' the Kingdom, in three Months. Sur. And I'll Be bound, the Players shall sing your Praises, then, Without their Poets. Mam. Sir, I'll do't. Mean time, I'll give away so much unto my Man, Shall serve th' whole City, with preservative, Weekly; each House his Dose, and at the rate —

  Sur. As he that built the Water-work, do's with Water?
  Mam. You are incredulous.   Sur. Faith I have a Humour,

I would not willingly be gull'd. Your Stone Cannot transmute me. Mam. Pertinax Surly, Will you believe Antiquity? Records? I'll shew you a Book, where Moses, and his Sister, And Solomon have written of the Art; I, and a Treatise penn'd by Adam. Sur. How!

  Mam. O' the Philosophers Stone, and in high Dutch.
  Sur. Did Adam write, Sir, in high Dutch?   Mam. He did:

Which proves it was the Primitive Tongue. Sur. What

     Paper?
  Mam. On Cedar Board.   Sur. O that, indeed (they say)

Will last 'gainst Worms. Mam. 'Tis like your Irish Wood, 'Gainst Cob-webs. I have a piece of Jasons's Fleece, too, Which was no other than a Book of Alchemy, Writ in large Sheep-skin, a good fat Ram-vellam. Such was Pythagoras's Thigh, Pandora's Tub; And, all that Fable of Medeas Charms, The manner of our Work: The Bulls, our Furnace, Still breathing Fire: our Argent-vive, the Dragon: The Dragons Teeth, Mercury Sublimate, That keeps the whiteness, hardness, and the biting; And they are gather'd into Jason's Helm, (Th' Alembick) and then sow'd in Mars his Field, And thence sublim'd so often, till they are fix'd. Both this, th' Hesperian Garden, Cadmus Story, Jove's Shower, the Boon of Midas, Argus Eyes, Boccace his Demogorgon, thousands more, All abstract Riddles of our Stone. How now?

Act II. Scene II.

Mammon, Face, Surly.

D O we succeed? Is our day come? and hold's it?

  Fac. The Evening will set red upon you, Sir;

You have colour for it, Crimson: the red Ferment Has done his Office, Three Hours hence, prepare you To see Projection. Mam. Pertinax, my Surly, Again, I say to thee, aloud, Be Rich.

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This day, thou shalt have Ingots: and, to Morrow, Give Lords th' affront. Is it, my Zephyrus, right? Blushes the Bolts-head? Fac. Like a Wench with Child, Sir, That were, but now, discover'd to her Master.

  Mam. Excellent witty Lungs! My only care is,

Where to get stuff enough now, to project on, This Town will not half serve me. Fac. No, Sir? Buy The covering off o' Churches. Mam. That's true. Fac. Yes. Let 'em stand bare, as do their Auditory. Or cap 'em, new, with Shingles. Mam. No, good Thatch: Thatch will lye light upo' the Rafters, Lungs. Lungs, I will manumit thee, from the Furnace; I will restore thee thy Complexion, Puffe, Lost in the Embers; and repair this Brain, Hurt wi' the Fume, o' the Mettals. Fac. I have blown, Sir, Hard for your Worship; thrown by many a Coal, When 'twas not Beech; weigh'd those I put in, just, To keep your heat still even; These Bleard-eyes Have wak'd, to read your several Colours, Sir, Of the pale Citron, the green Lyon, the Crow, The Peacocks Tail, the plumed Swan. Mam. And, lastly, Thou hast descryed the Flower, the Sanguis Agni?

  Fac. Yes Sir.   Mam. Where's Master?   Fac. At's Pray-
     ers, Sir, he,

Good Man, he's doing his Devotions, For the success. Mam. Lungs, I will set a Period To all thy Labours: Thou shalt be the Master Of my Seraglio. Fac. Good, Sir. Mam. But do you hear? I'll geld you, Lungs. Fac. Yes, Sir. Mam. For I do mean To have a List of Wives and Concubines, Equal with Solomon, who had the Stone Alike with me: and I will make me a Back With the Elixir, that shall be as tough As Hercules, to encounter Fifty a night. Th'art sure thou saw'st it Blood? Fac. Both Blood and

     Spirit, Sir.
  Mam. I will have all my Beds, blown up; not stuft:

Down is too hard. And then, mine Oval Room Fill'd with such Pictures as Tiberius took From Elephantis, and dull Aretine But coldly imitated. Then, my Glasses Cut in more subtil Angles, to disperse, And multiply the Figures, as I walk Naked betweeen my Succubæ. My Mists I'll have of Perfume, vapor'd 'bout the Room, To lose our selves in; and my Baths, like Pits To fall into: from whence we will come forth, And rowl us dry in Gossamour and Roses. (Is it arriv'd at Ruby?) — Where I spy A wealthy Citizen, or rich Lawyer, Have a sublim'd pure Wife, unto that Fellow I'll send a thousand Pound, to be my Cuckold.

  Fac. And I shall carry it?   Mam. No. I'll ha' no Bawds,

But Fathers and Mothers. They will do it best, Best of all others. And my Flatterers Shall be the pure, and gravest of Divines, That I can get for Money. My meet Fools, Eloquent Burgesses, and then my Poets The same that writ so subtily of the Fart. Whom I will entertain still for that Subject. The few that would give out themselves, to be Court and Town-stallions, and, each-where, belye Ladies, who are known most innocent, for them; Those will I beg, to make me Eunuchs of: And they shall fan me with Ten Estrich Tails A piece, made in a Plume, to gather Wind. We will be brave, Puffe, now we ha' the Med'cine. My Meat shall all come in inshould be only one 'in' Indian Shels, Dishes of Agat set in Gold, and studded With Emeralds, Saphirs, Hyacinths, and Rubies. The Tongues of Carps, Dormise, and Camels Heels, Boil'd i' the Spirit of Sol, and dissolv'd Pearl, (Apicius Diet, 'gainst the Epilepsie) And I will eat these Broaths with Spoons of Amber, Headed


           The Alchemist.	217

Headed with Diamant, and Carbuncle. My Foot-boy shall eat Pheasants, calver'd Salmons, Knots, Godwits, Lamprey's: I my self will have The Beards of Barbels serv'd, in stead of Sallads; Oil'd Mushromes; and the swelling unctuous Paps Of a fat pregnant Sow, newly cut off, Drest with an exquisite, and poynant Sauce; For which, I'll say unto my Cook, There's Gold, Go forth, and be a Knight. Fac. Sir, I'll go look A little, how it heightens. Mam. Do. My Shirts I'll have of Taffata-sarsnet, soft, and light As Cob-webs; and for all my other Rayment, It shall be such as might provoke the Persian, Were he to teach the World Riot anew. My Gloves of Fishes, and Birds-skins, perfum'd With Gums of Paradise, and Eastern Air —

  Sur. And do' you think to have the Stone, with this?
  Mam. No, I do think t' have all this, with the Stone.
  Sur. Why, I have heard, he must be homo frugi,

A Pious, Holy, and Religious Man, One free from mortal Sin, a very Virgin.

  Mam. That makes it, Sir, he is so. But I buy it.

My venture brings it me. He, honest Wretch, A notable, superstitious, good Soul, Has worn his Knees bare, and his Slippers bald, With Prayer and Fasting for it: and, Sir, let him Do' it alone, for me, still. Here he comes. Not a prophane Word, afore him: 'Tis Poyson.

Act II. Scene III.

Mammon, Subtle, Surly, Face.

G Ood morrow, Father. Sub. Gentle Son, good morrow,

And to your Friend there. What is he, is with you?
  Mam. An Heritick, that I did bring along,

In hope, Sir, to convert him. Sub. Son, I doubt Yo'are covetous, that thus you meet your time I' the just Point: prevent your day, at morning. This argues something, worthy of a fear Of importune, and carnal Appetite. Take heed, you do not cause the Blessing leave you, With your ungovern'd haste. I should be sorry To see my Labours, now e'en at perfection, Got by long watching, and large patience, Not prosper, where my love and zeal hath plac'd 'em. Which (Heaven I call to witness, with your self, To whom I have pour'd my thoughts) in all my ends, Have look'd no way, but unto publick Good, To pious Uses, and dear Charity, Now grown a Prodigy with Men. Wherein If you, my Son, should now prevaricate, And, to your own particular Lusts, employ So Great and Catholick a Bliss, be sure, A Curse will follow, yea, and overtake Your subtle and most secret way. Mam. I know, Sir, You shall not need to fear me. I but come, To ha' you confute this Gentleman. Sur. Who is, Indeed, Sir, somewhat caustive of belief Toward your Stone: would not be gull'd. Sub. Well, Son, All that I can convince him in, is this, The work is done: Bright Sol is in his Robe. We have a Med'cine of the triple Soul, The glorified Spirit. Thanks be to Heaven, And make us worthy of it. Ulen spiegel.

  Fac. Anon, Sir.   Sub. Look well to the Register,

And let your heat still lessen by degrees, To the Aludels. Fac. Yes, Sir. Sub. Did you look O' the Bolts-head yet? Fac. Which, on D. Sir? Sub. I. What's the Complexion? Fac. Whitish. Sub. Infuse Vinegar, To draw his volatile substance, and his Tincture: And let the Water in Glass E. be feltred, And put into the Gripes egg. Lute him well; And leave him clos'd in Balneo. Fac. I will, Sir.

[column break]

  Sur. What a brave Language here is? next to canting?
  Sub. I' have another work, you never saw, Son,

That three days since past the Philosophers wheel, In the lent heat of Athanor; and's become Sulpher o'Nature. Mam. But 'tis for me? Sub. What

     need you?

You have enough, in that is perfect. Mam! O, but —

  Sub. Why, this is covetise!   Mam. No, I assure you,

I shall employ it all in pious uses, Founding of Colledges, and Grammar Schools, Marrying young Virgins, building Hospitals, And now, and then, a Church. Sub. How now?

  Fac. Sir, please you,

Shall I not change the feltre? Sub. Marry, yes. And bring me the Complexion of Glass B.

  Mam. Ha' you another?   Sub. Yes, Son, were I assur'd

Your piety were firm, we would not want The means to glorifie it. But I hope the best: I mean to tinct C. in Sand-heat, to morrow, And give him Imbibition. Mam. Of white Oyl?

  Sub. No, Sir, of red. F. is come over the Helm too,

I thank my Maker, in S. Maries Bath, And shews Lac Virginis. Blessed be Heaven. I sent you of his fæces there calcin'd. Out of that Calx, I' ha' won the Salt of Mercury,

  Mam. By powring on your rectified water?
  Sub. Yes, and reverberating in Athanor.

How now? What colour says it? Fac. The ground

     black, Sir.
  Mam. That's your Crowes head?
  Sur. Your Cocks-comb's, is't not?
  Sub. No, 'tis not perfect, would it were the Crow.

That work wants something. Sur. (O, I look'd for this. The Hay is a pitching.) Sub. Are you sure, you loos'd 'em I' their own menstrue? Fac. Yes, Sir, and then married 'em, And put 'em in a Bolts-head, nipp'd to digestion, According as you bade me, when I set The Liquor of Mars to Circulation, In the same heat. Sub. The process, then, was right.

  Fac. Yes, by the token, Sir, the Retort brake,

And what was sav'd, was put into the Pellicane, And sign'd with Hermes Seal. Sub. I think 'twas so. We should have a new Amalgama. (Sur. O, this Ferret Is rank as any Pole-cat.) Sub. But I care not. Let him e'en dye; we have enough beside, In Embrion. H. ha's his white shirt on? Fac. Yes, Sir, He's ripe for inceration: He stands warm, In his Ash-fire. I would not, you should let Any dye now, if I might counsel, Sir, For lucks sake to the rest. It is not good.

  Mam: He says right.   Sur. I, are you bolted?
  Fac. Nay, I know't, Sir,

I' have seen th'ill Fortune. What is some three Ounces Of fresh materials? Mam. Is't no more? Fac. No more, Sir, Of Gold, t' Amalgame, with some six of Mercury.

  Mam. Away, here's Money. What will serve?
  Fac. Ask him, Sir.
  Mam. How much?   Sub. Give him Nine pound: you
     may gi' him Ten.
  Sur. Yes, Twenty, and be cozen'd, do.   Mam. There 'tis.
  Sub. This needs not. But that you will have it so,

To see conclusions of all. For two Of our inferiour Works, are at fixation. A third is in ascension. Go your ways. Ha' you set the Oil of Luna in Kemia?

  Fac. Yes, Sir.   Sub. And the Philosophers Vinegar.   Fac. I.
  Sur. We shall have a Sallad.   Mam. When do you
     make Projection?
  Sub. Son, be not hasty, I exalt our Med'cine;

By hanging him in Balneo vaporoso, And giving him solution; then congeal him; And then dissolve him; then again congeal him; For look, how oft I iterate the Work, So many times I add unto his Vertue. F f As,


218 The Alchemist.

As, if at first one Ounce covert a hundred, After his second loose, he'll turn a thousand; His third solution, ten; his fourth, a hundred. After his fifth, a thousand thousand Ounces Of any imperfect Metal, into pure Silver or Gold, in all Examinations, As good as any of the natural Mine. Get you your Stuff here against Afternoon, Your Brass, your Pewter, and your Andirons.

  Mam. Not those of Iron?
  Sub. Yes, you may bring them too.

We'll change all Metals. Sur. I believe you in that.

  Mam. Then I may send my Spits?
  Sub. Yes, and your Racks.
  Sub.Sur. And Dripping-pans, and Pot-hangers, and Hooks?

Shall he not? Sub. If he please. Sur. To be an Ass.

  Sub. How, Sir!
  Mam. This Gent'man you must bear withal:

I told you, he had no Faith. Sur. And little Hope, Sir; But much less Charity, should I gull my self.

  Sub. Why, what have you observ'd, Sir, in our Art,

Seems so impossible? Sur. But your whole Work, no more. That you should hatch Gold in a Furnace, Sir, As they do Eggs in Egypt! Sub. Sir, do you Believe that Eggs are hatch'd so? Sur. If I should?

  Sub. Why, I think that the greater Miracle.

No Egg but differs from a Chicken more Than Metals in themselves. Sur. That cannot be. The Egg's ordain'd by Nature to that end, And is a Chicken in potentia.

  Sub. The same we say of Lead, and other Metals,

Which would be Gold, if they had time. Mam. And that Our Art doth further. Sub. I, for 'twere absurd To think that Nature in the Earth bred Gold Perfect i' the instant. Something went before. There must be remote Matter. Sur. I, what is that?

  Sub. Marry, we say — Mam. I, now it heats: stand Father,

Pound him to dust — Sub. It is, of the one part, A humid Exhalation, which we call Materia liquida, or the unctuous Water; On th' other part, a certain crass and viscous Portion of Earth; both which, concorporate, Do make the Elementary Matter of Gold; Which is not yet propria materia, But communecommon to all Metals, and all Stones. For, where it is forsaken of that moisture, And hath more driness, it becomes a Stone; Where it retains more of the humid fatness, It turns to Sulpher, or to Quicksilver, Who are the Parents of all other Metals. Nor can this remote Matter suddenly Progress so from extreme unto extreme, As to grow Gold, and leap o're all the Means. Nature doth first beget th' imperfect, then Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that aiery And oily Water, Mercury is engendred; Sulpher o' the fat and earthy part; the one (Which is the last) supplying the place of Male, The other of the Female, in all Metals. Some do believe Hermaphrodeity, That both do act and suffer. But these two Make the rest ductile, malleable, extensive. And even in Gold they are; for we do find Seeds of them, by our Fire, and Gold in them; And can produce the species of each Metal More perfect thence, than Nature doth in Earth. Beside, who doth not see, in daily practice, Art can beget Bees, Hornets, Beetles, Wasps, Out of the Carcasses and Dung of Creatures; Yea, Scorpions of an Herb, being rightly plac'd? And these are living Creatures, far more perfect And excellent than Metals. Mam. Well said, Father! Nay, if he take you in hand, Sir, with an Argument, He'll bray you in a Mortar. Sur. Pray you, Sir, stay.

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Rather than I'll be bray'd, Sir, I'll believe That Alchemy is a pretty kind of Game, Somewhat like Tricks o' the Cards, to cheat a Man With charming. Sub. Sir?

  Sur. What else are all your Terms,

Whereon no one o' your Writers 'grees with other? Of your Elixir, your Lac virginis, Your Stone, your Med'cine, and your Chrysosperme, Your Sal, your Sulpher, and your Mercury, Your Oil of Height, your Tree of Life, your Blood, Your Marchesite, your Tutie, your Magnesia, Your Toade, your Crow, your Dragon, and your Panthar, Your Sun, your Moon, your Firmament, your Adrop, Your Lato, Azoch, Zernich, Chibrit, Heautarit, And then your Red Man, and your White Woman, With all your Broths, your Menstrues, and Materials, Of Piss and Egg-shells, Womens Terms, Mans Blood, Hair o' th' Head, burnt Clouts, Chalk, Merds, and Clay, Powder of Bones, Scalings of Iron, Glass, And Worlds of other strange Ingredients, Would burst a Man to name? Sub. And all these, nam'd, Intending but one thing; which Art our Writers Us'd to obscure their Art. Mam. Sir, so I told him, Because the simple Idiot should not learn it, And make it vulgar. Sub. Was not all the Knowledge Of the Ægyptians writ in mystick Symbols? Speak not the Scriptures oft in Parables? Are not the choicest Fables of the Poets, That were the Fountains and first Springs of Wisdom, Wrapt in perplexed Allegories? Mam. I urg'd that, And clear'd to him, that Sysiphus was damn'd To roll the ceasless Stone, only because [Doll is seen. He would have ours common. Who is this? 'Sub.' omittedGod's precious — What do you mean? Go in, good Lady, Let me intreat you. Where's this Varlet? Fac. Sir?

  Sub. You very Knave! do you use me thus?
  Fac. Wherein, Sir?
  Sub. Go in, and see, you Traitor. Go.
  Mam. Who is it, Sir?
  Sub. Nothing, Sir: Nothing.
  Mam. What's the matter, good Sir?

I have not seen you thus distemper'd. Who is't?

  Sub. All Arts have still had, Sir, their Adversaries;

[Face returns. But ours the most ignorant. What now?

  Fac. 'Twas not my fault, Sir; she would speak with you.
  Sub. Would she, Sir? Follow me.
  Mam. Stay, Lungs.   Fac. I dare not, Sir.
  Mam. How! Pray thee stay.
  Fac. She's mad, Sir, and sent hither ——
  Mam. Stay Man, what is she?   Fac. A Lords Sister, Sir.

(He'll be mad too. Mam. I warrant thee.) Why sent hither?

  Fac. Sir, to be cur'd.   Sur. Why Rascal!

[He goes out.

  Fac. Loe you. Here, Sir.
  Mam. 'Fore God, a Bradamante, a brave Piece.
  Sur. Heart, this is a Bawdy-house! I'll be burnt else.
  Mam. O, by this Light, no. Do not wrong him. H'is

Too scrupulous that way. It is his Vice. No, h' is a rare Physician, do him right, An excellent Paracelsian, and has done Strange Cures with Mineral Physick. He deals all With Spirits, he. He will not hear a word Of Galen, or his tedious Recipe's. [Face again. How now, Lungs!

  Fac. Softly, Sir, speak softly. I meant

To ha' told your VVorship all. This must not hear.

  Mam. No, he will not be gull'd: let him alone.
  Fac. Y'are very right, Sir, she is a most rare Scholar,

And is gone mad with studying Braughton's VVorks. If you but name a word touching the Hebrew, She falls into her Fit, and will discourse So learnedly of Genealogies, As you would run mad too, to hear her, Sir.

  Mam. How might one do t' have conference with her, Lungs?

Fac. O,


           The Alchemist.	219
  Fac. O, divers have run mad upon the conference.

I do not know, Sir: I am sent in haste, To fetch a Viol. Sur. Be not gull'd, Sir Mammon.

  Mam. Wherein? 'Pray ye, be patient.
  Sur. Yes, as you are,

And trust confederate Knaves, and Bawds, and Whores.

  Mam. You are too foul, believe it. Come here, Ulen,

One word. Fac. I dare not, in good faith.

  Mam. Stay, knave.
  Fac. H' is extream angry that you saw her, Sir.
  Mam. Drink that. What is she when she's out of her fit?
  Fac. O, the most affablest creature, sir! so merry!

So pleasant! she'll mount you up, like Quick-silver, Over the Helm; and circulate, like Oyl, A very Vegetal: Discourse of State, Of Mathematicks, Bawdry, any thing —

  Mam. Is she no way accessible? no means,

No trick, to give a man a taste of her —— wit — Or so? — Ulen. Fac. I'll come to you again, Sir.

  Mam. Surly, I did not think, one o'your breeding

Would traduce Personages of worth. Sur. Sir Epicure, Your friend to use: yet, still, loth to be gull'd. I do not like your Philosophical Bawds. Their Stone is Letchery enough to pay for, Without this Bait. Mam. 'Heart, you abuse your self. I know the Lady, and her Friends, and Means, The Original of this Disaster. Her brother H'as told me all. Sur. And yet you ne're saw her Till now? Mam. O, yes, burbut I forgot. I have (believe it) One o' the treacherousest memories, I do think, Of all mankind. Sub.Sur. What call you her brother?

  Mam. My Lord ———

He wi' not have his Name known, now I think on't.

  Sur. A very treacherous memory!   Mam. O' my faith —   
  Sur. Tut, if you ha' it not about you, pass it,

Till we meet next. Mam. Nay, by this hand, 'tis true. He's one I honour, and my Noble Friend, And I respect his house. Sur. Heart! can it be, That a grave Sir, a rich, that has no need, A wise Sir too, at other times, should thus With his own Oaths, and Arguments, make hard means To gull himself? And this be your Elixir, Your lapis mineralis, and your lunary, Give me your honest trick, yet, at Primero, Or Gleek; and take your lutum sapientis, Your menstruum simplex: I'll have Gold before you, And with less danger of the Quick-silver, Or the hot Sulphur. [To Surly.

  Fac. Here's one from Captain Face, Sir,

Desires you meet him i' the Temple-Church, Some half hour hence, and upon earnest business. [He whispers

Mammon.

Sir, if you please to quit us, now; and come Again within two hours, you shall have My Master busie examining o' the works; And I will steal you in unto the party, That you may see her converse. Sir, shall I say, You'll meet the Captains Worship? Sur. Sir, I will. But, by Attorny, and to a second purpose. Now, I am sure, it is a Bawdy-house; I'll swear it, were the Marshal here to thank me: The naming this Commander doth confirm it. Don Face! Why, h' is the most authentick Dealer I' these commodities! The Superintendent To all the quainter Traffickers in Town. He is their Visitor, and does appoint, Who lies with whom, and at what hour; what price; VVhich Gown; and in what Smock; what Fall; what Tyre. Him will I prove, by a third person, to find The Subtilties of this dark Labyrinth: VVhich, if I do discover, dear Sir Mammon, You'll give your poor friend leave, tho no Philosopher, To laugh: for you that are, 'tis thought, shall weep.

  Fac. Sir, He does pray, you'll not forget.
  Sur. I will not, Sir.

[column break]

Sir Epicure, I shall leave you?

  Mam. I follow you, straight.
  Fac. But do so, good Sir, to avoid suspicion.

This Gent'man has a par'lous head.

  Mam. But wilt thou, Ulen,

Be constant to thy promise? Fac. As my life, Sir.

  Mam. And wilt thou insinuate what I am? and praise me?

And say, I am a noble Fellow? Fac. O, what else, Sir? And, that you'll make her royal, with the Stone, An Empress; and your self King of Bantam.

  Mam. Wilt thou do this?
  Fac. Will I, Sir?   Mam. Lungs, my Lungs!

I love thee. Fac. Send your stuff, Sir, that my Master May busie himself about projection.

  Mam. Th' hast witch'd me, Rogue: Take, go.
  Fac. Your Jack, and all, Sir.
  Mam. Thou art a Villain — I will send my Jack,

And the Weights too. Slave, I could bite thine Ear. Away, thou dost not care for me. Fac. Not I, Sir?

  Mam. Come, I was born to make thee, my good weasel,

Set thee on a bench, and ha' thee twirl a Chain With the best Lords Vermine of 'em all. Fac. Away, Sir.

  Mam. A Count, nay, a Count-Palatine ——
  Fac. Good Sir, go.
  Mam. Shall not advance thee better: no, nor faster.

Act II. Scene IV.

Subtle, Face, Dol.

H As he bit? Has he bit?

  Fac. And swallow'd too, my Subtle.

I ha' giv'n him Line, and now he plays, yfaith.

  Sub. And shall we twitch him?
  Fac. Thorow both the Gills.

A wench is a rare bait, with which a man No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad.

  Sub. Dol, my Lord Wha'ts'hums Sister, you must now

Bear your self statelich. Dol. O, let me alone. I'll not forget my Race, I warrant you. I'll keep my distance, laugh, and talk aloud; Have all the tricks of a proud scurvy Lady, And be as rude as her woman. Fac. Well said, Sanguine.

  Sub. But will he send his Andirons?
  Fac. His Jack too;

And's Iron shooing-horn: I ha' spoken to him. Well, I must not lose my wary Gamester, yonder.

  Sub. O Monsieur Caution, that will not be gull'd?
  Fac. I, if I can strike a fine hook into him, now,

The Temple-Church, there I have cast mine Angle. Well, pray for me. I'll about it. [One knocks.

  Sub. What, more Gudgeons!

Dol, scout, scout; stay, Face, you must go to the door: 'Pray God it be my Anabaptist. Who is't, Dol?

  Dol. I know him not. He looks like a Gold-end-man.
  Sub. Gods so! 'tis he, he said he would send.

What call you him? The sanctified Elder, that should deal For Mammon's Jack and Andirons! Let him in. Stay, help me off, first, with my Gown. Away Madam, to your withdrawing Chamber. Now, In a new tune, new gesture, but old language, This fellow is sent from one negotiates with me About the Stone too; for the holy Brethren Of Amsterdam, the exil'd Saints: that hope To raise their Discipline by it. I must use him In some strange fashion, now, to make him admire me.


F f 2 Act


220 The Alchemist.

Act II. Scene V.

Subtle, Face, Ananias.

W Here is my drudge? Fac. Sir.

  Sub. Take away the Recipient,

And rectifie your Menstrue from the Phlegma. Then pour it o' the Sol, in the Cucurbite, And let 'em macerate together. Fac. Yes, Sir. And save the ground? Sub. No. Terra damnata Must not have entrance in the work. Who are you?

  Ana. A faithful Brother, if it please you.
  Sub. What's that?

A Lullianist? a Ripley? Filius artis? Can you sublime and dulcifie? calcine? Know you the Sapor Pontick? Sapor Styptick? Or what is homogene, or heterogene?

  Ana. I understand no Heathen language, truly.
  Sub. Heathen, you Knipper-Doling? Is Ars Sacra,

Or Chrysopœia, or Spagyrica, Or the Pamphysick, or Panarchick knowledge, A Heathen language? Ana. Heathen Greek, I take it.

  Sub. How? Heathen Greek?
  Ana. All's Heathen but the Hebrew.
  Sub. Sirrah, my Varlet, stand you forth, and speak to him,

Like a Philosopher: Answer i' the language. Name the Vexations, and the Martyrizations Of Metals in the work. Fac. Sir, Putrefaction, Solution, Ablution, Sublimation, Cohobation, Calcination, Ceration, and Fixation. Sub. This is Heathen Greek, to you, now? And when comes Vivification? Fac. After Mortification.

  Sub. What's Cohobation?   Fac. 'Tis the pouring on

Your Aqua Regis, and then drawing him off, To the Trine Circle of the Seven Sphears.

  Sub. What's the proper passion of Metals?
  Fac. Malleation.
  Sub. What's your ultimum supplicium auri?
  Fac. Antimonium.
  Sub. This's Heathen Greek to you? And what's your Mercury?
  Fac. A very fugitive, he will be gone, Sir.
  Sub. How know you him?   Fac. By his Viscositie,

His Oleosity, and his Suscitability.

  Sub. How do you sublime him?
  Fac. With the calce of Egg-shells,

White Marble, Chalk. Sub. Your Magisterium, now? What's that? Fac. Shifting, Sir, your Elements, Dry into cold, cold into moist, moist in- to hot, hot into dry.

  Sub. That's Heathen Greek to you still?

Your Lapis Philosophicus? Fac. 'Tis a Stone, and not A Stone; a Spirit, a Soul, and a Body: Which if you do dissolve, it is dissolv'd; If you coagulate, it is coagulated; If you make it to fly, it flieth. Sub. Enough. This's Heathen Greek to you? What are you, Sir?

  Ana. Please you, a servant of the Exil'd Brethren,

That deal with Widows, and with Orphans Goods; And make a just account unto the Saints: A Deacon. Sub. O, you are sent from Master Wholsome, Your Teacher? Ana. From Tribulation Wholsome, Our very zealous Pastor. Sub. Good. I have Some Orphans Goods to come here.

  Ana. Of what kind, Sir?
  Sub. Pewter, and Brass, Andirons, and Kitchin-ware,

Metals, that we must use our Med'cine on: Wherein the Brethren may have a penn'orth, For ready money. Ana. Were the Orphans Parents Sincere Professors?

  Sub. Why do you ask?   Ana. Because

We then are to deal justly, and give (in truth) Their utmost value. Sub. 'Slid, you'ld cozen else, And if their Parents were not of the faithful?

[column break]

I will not trust you, now I think on't, Till I ha' talk'd with your Pastor. Ha' you brought money To buy more Coals?

  Ana. No, surely.   Sub. No? How so?
  Ana. The Brethren bid me say unto you, Sir,

Surely, they will not venture any more, Till they may see projection.

  Sub. How!   Ana. Yo' have had,

For the Instruments, as Bricks, and Lome, and Glasses, Already thirty pound; and for Materials, They say, some ninety more: And they have heard since, That one, at Heidelberg, made it of an Egg. And a small paper of Pin-dust.

  Sub. What's your Name?
  Ana. My Name is Ananias.
  Sub. Out, the Varlet

That cozen'd the Apostles! Hence, away, Flee Mischief; had your holy Consistory No Name to send me, of another sound, Than wicked Ananias? send your Elders Hither, to make attonement for you, quickly, And gi' me satisfaction; or outgoes The fire: and down th' Alembeks, and the fornace. Piger Henricus, or what not. Thou wretch, Both Sericon, and Bufo, shall be lost, Tell 'em. All hope of rooting out the Bishops, Or th' Antichristian Hierarchy shall perish, If they stay threescore minutes. The Aqueity, Terreity, and Sulphureity Shall run together again, and all be annull'd, Thou wicked Ananias. This will fetch 'em, And make 'em haste towards their gulling more. A man must deal like a rough Nurse, and fright Those that are froward to an appetite.

Act II. Scene VI.

Face, Subtle, Drugger.

H 'Is busie with his Spirits, but we'll upon him.

  Sub. How now! What mates? What Baiards ha'
           we here?
  Fac. I told you, he would be furious. Sir, here's Nab,

Has brought you another piece of Gold to look on: (We must appease him. Give it me) and prays you, You would devise (what is it Nab?) Dru. A sign, Sir.

  Fac. I, a good lucky one, a thriving sign, Doctor.
  Sub. I was devising now.
  Fac. (Slight, do not say so,

He will repent he ga' you any more.) What say you to his Constellation, Doctor? The Ballance?

  Sub. No, that way is stale, and common.

A Townsman born in Taurus, gives the Bull; Or the Bulls-head: In Aries, the Ram. A poor device. No, I will have his Name Form'd in some mystick Character; whose Radii, Striking the Senses of the passers by, Shall, by a virtual influence, breed affections, That may result upon the party owns it: As thus — Fac. Nab!

  Sub. He first shall have a Bell, that's Abel;

And by it standing one whose Name is Dee, In a Rug Gown; there's D, and Rug, that's Drug! And right anenst him a Dog snarling Er; There's Drugger, Abel Drugger. That's his sign. And here's now Mystery, and Hieroglyphick!

  Fac. Abel, thou art made.
  Dru. Sir, I do thank his Worship.
  Fac. Six o'thy legs more will not do it, Nab.

He has brought you a Pipe of Tobacco, Doctor.

  Dru. Yes, Sir:

I have another thing I would impart —

  Fac. Out with it, Nab.

Dru.


           The Alchemist.	221
  Dru. Sir, there is lodg'd, hard by me

A rich young Widow — Fac. Good! a bona roba?

  Dru. But Nineteen at the most.
  Fac. Very good, Abel.
  Dru. Marry, sh'is not in fashion yet; she wears

A hood; but 't stands acop. Fac. No matter, Abel.

  Dru. And I do now and then give her a fucus —
  Fac. What! dost thou deal, Nab?
  Sub. I did tell you, Captain.
  Dru. And Physick too sometime, Sir: for which she trusts me

With all her mind. She's come up here of purpose To learn the Fashion.

  Fac. Good (his match too!) on, Nab.
  Dru. And she do's strangely long to know her fortune.
  Fac. Gods lid, Nab, send her to the Doctor hither.
  Dru. Yes, I have spoke to her of his Worship already:

But she's afraid it will be blown abroad, And hurt her Marriage. Fac. Hurt it? 'Tis the way To heal it, if 'twere hurt; to make it more Follow'd and sought: Nab, thou shalt tell her this. She'll be more known, more talk'd of; and your Widows Are ne'er of any price till they be famous; Their Honour is their multitude of Suitors: Send her, it may be thy good fortune. What? Thou dost not know. Dru. No, Sir, she'll never marry Under a Knight. Her Brother has made a Vow.

  Fac. What, and dost thou dispair, my little Nab,

Knowing what the Doctor has set down for thee, And seeing so many of the City dubb'd? One Glass o' thy water, with a Madam, I know Will have it done, Nab. What's her Brother? a Knight?

  Dru. No, Sir, a Gentleman newly warm in 'his land, Sir,

Scarce cold in his one and twenty, that do's govern His Sister here; and is a man himself Of some three thousand a year, and is come up To learn to quarrel, and to live by his Wits, And will go down again, and die i' the Countrey.

  Fac. How! to quarrel?
  Dru. Yes, Sir, to carry Quarrels,

As Gallants do, and manage 'em by Line.

  Fac. 'Slid, Nab! The Doctor is the only man

In Christendom for him. He has made a Table, VVith Mathematical Demonstrations, Touching the Art of Quarrels. He will give him An Instrument to quarrel by. Go, bring 'em both, Him and his Sister. And, for thee, with her The Doctor happ'ly may perswade. Go to. 'Shat give his VVorship a new Damask Suit Upon the premisses.

  Sub. O, good Captain.   Fac. He shall,

He is the honestest fellow, Doctor. Stay not, No Offers, bring the Damask, and the Parties.

  Dru. I'll try my power, Sir.
  Fac. And thy will too, Nab.
  Sub. 'Tis good Tobacco, this! what is't an Ounce?
  Fac. He'll send you a pound, Doctor.
  Sub. O, no.   Fac. He will do't.

It is the goodest Soul. Abel, about it. (Thou shalt know more anon. Away, be gone.) A miserable Rogue, and lives with Cheese, And has the worms. That was the Cause indeed VVhy he came now. He dealt with me in private, To get a Med'cine for 'em.

  Sub. And shall, Sir. This works.
  Fac. A wife, a wife for one on'us, my dear Subtle:

VVe'll e'ne draw lots, and he that fails, shall have The more in Goods, the other has in Tail.

  Sub. Rather the less. For she may be so light

She may want Grains.

  Fac. I, or be such a burden,

A man would scarce endure her for the whole.

  Sub. Faith, best let's see her first, and then determine.
  Fac. Content. But Dol must ha' no breath on't.
  Sub. Mum.

[column break]

Away, you to your Surly yonder, catch him.

  Fac. 'Pray God I ha' not staid too long.
  Sub. I fear it.


Act III. Scene I.

Tribulation, Ananias.

T Hese chastisements are common to the Saints,

And such rebukes we of the separation

Must bear, with willing shoulders, as the trials Sent forth to tempt our frailties.

  Ana. In pure Zeal

I do not like the man, He is a Heathen, And speaks the Language of Canaan, truly.

  Tri. I think him a prophane person indeed.
  Ana. He bears

The visible mark of the Beast in his fore-head. And for his stone, it is a work of darkness, And with Philosophy blinds the eyes of man.

  Tri. Good Brother, we must bend unto all means

That may give furtherance to the holy Cause.

  Ana. Which his cannot: The sanctified Cause

Should have a sanctified Course.

  Tri. Not always necessary:

The Children of Perdition are oft-times Made Instruments even of the greatest works. Beside, we should give somewhat to mans nature, The place he lives in, still about the fire, And fume of Metals, that intoxicate The brain of man, and make him prone to Passion. Where have you greater Atheists than your Cooks? Or more prophane, or cholerick, than your Glass-men? More Antichristian than your Bell-founders? What makes the Devil so devillish, I would ask you, Sathan, our common Enemy, but his being Perpetually about the fire, and boiling Brimstone and Arsnick? We must give, I say, Unto the motives, and the stirrers up Of Humors in the blood. It may be so. When as the work is done, the stone is made, This heat of his may turn into a Zeal, And stand up for the beauteous discipline, Against the menstruous Cloth, and Rag of Rome. We must await his calling, and the coming Of the good Spirit. You did fault, t'upbraid him With the Brethrens blessing of Heidelberg, weighing What need we have to hasten on the work, For the restoring of the silenc'd Saints, Which ne'er will be, but by the Philosophers Stone. And so a learned Elder, one of Scotland, Assur'd me; Aurum potabile being The only Med'cine, for the civil Magistrate, T'incline him to a feeling of the Cause; And must be daily us'd in the Disease.

  Ana. I have not edified more, truly, by Man;

Not since the beautiful light first shone on me: And I am sad my Zeal hath so offended.

  Tri. Let us call on him then.
  Ana. The motion's good,

And of the Spirit; I will knock first: Peace be within.

Act III. Scene II.

Subtle, Tribulation, Ananias.

O ' Are you come? 'Twas time. Your threescore minutes

Were at last thread, you see; and down had gone

Furnus acediæ, Turris circulatorius: Lembek, Bolts-head, Retort, and Pellicane Had all been cinders. Wicked Ananias! Art thou return'd? Nay then, it goes down yet.

Tri.


222 The Alchemist.

  Tri. Sir, be appeased, he is come to humble

Himself in Spirit, and to ask your patience, If too much Zeal hath carried him aside From the due path. Sub. Why, this doth qualifie!

  Tri. The Brethren had no purpose, verily,

To give you the least Grievance: but are ready To lend their willing hands to any project The Spirit and you direct.

  Sub. This qualifies more!
  Tri. And for the Orphans Goods, let them be valu'd,

Or what is needful else to the holy work, It shall be numbred; here, by me, the Saints Throw down their Purse before you.

  Sub. This qualifies most!

Why, thus it should be, now you understand. Have I discours'd so unto you of our Stone, And of the good that it shall bring your Cause? Shew'd you, (beside the main of hiring Forces Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your Friends, From th' Indies, to serve you, with all their Fleet) That even the med'cinal use shall make you a Faction, And Party in the Realm? As, put the case, That some great man in State, he have the Gout, Why, you but send three drops of your Elixir, You help him straight: there you have made a friend. Another has the Palsie, or the Dropsie, He takes of your incombustible stuff, He's young again: there you have made a friend. A Lady that is past the feat of body, Tho not of mind, and hath her Face decay'd Beyond all cure of Paintings, you restore With the Oyl of Talek; there you have made a friend: And all her friends. A Lord that is a Leper, A Knight that has the Bone-ach, or a Squire That hath both these, you make 'em smooth and sound, With a bare fricace of your Med'cine: still You increase your friends.

  Tri. I, 'tis very pregnant.
  Sub. And then the turning of this Lawyer's Pewter

To Plate at Christmass ——

  Ana. Christ-tide, I pray you.
  Sub. Yet Ananias?
  Ana. I have done.   Sub. Or changing

His parcel gilt to massie Gold. You cannot But raise your friends. Withal, to be of power To pay an Army in the field, to buy The King of France out of his Realms, or Spain Out of his Indies. What can you not do Against Lords spiritual or temporal, That shall oppone you? Tri. Verily 'tis true. We may be temporal Lords our selves, I take it.

  Sub. You may be any thing, and leave off to make

Long-winded Exercises: or suck up Your ha, and hum, in a tune. I not deny, But such as are not graced in a State, May, for their Ends, be adverse in Religion, And get a tune to call the Flock together: For (to say sooth) a tune does much with women, And other phlegmatick people, it is your Bell.

  Ana. Bells are prophane: a tune may be religious.
  Sub. No warning with you? Then farewel my patience.

'Slight, it shall down: I will not be thus tortur'd.

  Tri. I pray you, Sir.
  Sub. All shall perish. I have spoke it.
  Tri. Let me find Grace, Sir, in your eyes; the man

He stands corrected: neither did his zeal (But as your self) allow a tune somewhere. Which now being to'ard the Stone, we shall not need.

  Sub. No, nor your holy Vizard, to win widows

To give you Legacies; or make zealous wives To rob their husbands for the Common Cause: Nor take the start of Bonds broke but one day, And say, they were forfeited by Providence. Nor shall you need o're night to eat huge meals,

[column break]

To celebrate your next days Fast the better: The whilst the Brethren and the Sisters humbled, Abate the stiffness of the flesh. Nor cast Before your hungry Hearers scrupulous Bones; As whether a Christian may hawk or hunt, Or whether Matrons of the Holy Assembly May lay their Hair out, or wear Doublets; Or have that Idol Starch about their Linnen.

  Ana. It is indeed an Idol.
  Tri. Mind him not, Sir.

I do command thee, Spirit (of zeal, but trouble) To peace within him. Pray you, Sir, go on.

  Sub. Nor shall you need to libel 'gainst the Prelates,

And shorten so your Ears against the hearing Of the next wire-drawn Grace. Nor of necessity Rail against Plays, to please the Alderman, Whose daily Custard you devour. Nor lie With zealous Rage till you are hoarse. Not one Of these so singular Arts. Nor call your selves By Names of Tribulation, Persecution, Restraint, Long-Patience, and such like affected By the whole family, or wood of you, Only for Glory, and to catch the Ear Of the Disciple. Tri. Truly, Sir, they are Ways that the Godly Brethren have invented For propagation of the Glorious Cause, As very notable means, and whereby also Themselves grow soon, and profitably famous.

  Sub. O, but the Stone, all's idle to't! nothing!

The Art of Angels, Natures Miracle, The Divine Secret that doth fly in Clouds From East to West; and whose tradition Is not from Men, but Spirits.

  Ana. I hate Traditions:

I do not trust them — Tri. Peace.

  Ana. They are Popish, all.

I will not peace. I will not — Tri. Ananias!

  Ana. Please the prophane, to grieve the godly: I may not.
  Sub. Well, Ananias, thou shalt over-come.
  Tri. It is an ignorant zeal that haunts him, Sir.

But truly, else, a very faithful Brother, A Botcher: and a man, by revelation, That hath a competent knowledge of the truth.

  Sub. Has he a competent sum there i' the Bag

To buy the Goods within? I am made Guardian, And must, for Charity and Conscience sake, Now see the most be made for my poor Orphan: Tho I desire the Brethren too, good Gainers. There they are within. When you have view'd, and

  bought 'em.

And tane the Inventory of what they are, They are ready for Projection; there's no more To do: Cast on the Med'cine, so much Silver As there is Tin there, so much Gold as Brass, I'll gi' it you in by weight. Tri. But how long time, Sir, must the Saints expect yet? Sub. Let me see, How's the Moon now? Eight, nine, ten days hence He will be Silver Potate; then three days Before he Citronise: some fifteen days The Magisterium will be perfected.

  Ana. About the second day of the third week,

In the ninth month? Sub. Yes, my good Ananias.

  Tri. What will the Orphans Goods arise to, think you?
  Sub. Some hundred Marks, as much as fill'd three Cars,

Unladed now: you'll make six Millions of 'em. But I must ha' more Coals laid in.

  Tri. How!   Sub. Another Load,

And then we have finish'd. We must now increase Our fire to Ignis ardens, we are past Fimus equinus, Balnei Cineris, And all those lenter heats. If the holy Purse Should with this draught fall low, and that the Saints Do need a present sum, I have a trick

To


           The Alchemist.	223

To melt the Pewter, you shall buy now, instantly, And with a tincture make you as good Dutch Dollars As any are in Holland. Tri. Can you so?

  Sub. I, and shall 'bide the third Examination.
  Ana. It will be joyful tidings to the Brethren.
  Sub. But you must carry it secret.   Tri. I, but stay,

This act of coyning, is it lawful? Ana. Lawful? We know no Magistrate. Or, if we did, This 's forreign Coin.

  Sub. It is no coining, Sir.

It is but casting. Tri. Ha? you distinguish well. Casting of Money may be lawful. Ana. 'Tis, Sir.

  Tri. Truly, I take it so.
  Sub. There is no scruple,

Sir, to be made of it; believe Ananias: This Case of Conscience he is studied in.

  Tri. I'll make a question of it to the Brethren.
  Ana. The Brethren shall approve it lawful, doubt not.

Where shall it be done? (Knock without.

  Sub. For that we'll talk anon.

There's some to speak with me. Go in, I pray you, And view the parcels. That's the Inventory. I'll come to you straight. Who is it? Face! Appear.

Act III. Scene III.

Subtle, Face, Dol.

H Ow now? Good Prize?

  Fac. Good Pox! Yond' caustive Cheater

Never came on. Sub. How then?

  Fac. I ha' walk'd the round

Till now, and no such thing.

  Sub. And ha' you quit him?
  Fac. Quit him? an hell would quit him too, he were happy.

'Slight would you have me stalk like a Mill-Jade, All day, for one that will not yield us Grains? I know him of old. Sub. O, but to ha' gull'd him, Had been a maistry. Fac. Let him go, black Boy, And turn thee, that some fresh news may possess thee. A Noble Count, a Don of Spain (my dear Delicious Compeer, and my Party-bawd) Who is come hither, private for his Conscience, And brought Munition with him, six great Sloops, Bigger than three Dutch Hoys, beside round trunks, Furnish'd with Pistolets, and Pieces of Eight, Will streight be here, my Rogue, to have thy Bath, (That is the colour) and to make his Battry Upon our Dol, our Castle, our Cinque-Port, Our Dover Pire, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare Perfumes, delicate Linnen, The Bath in chief, a Banquet, and her Wit, For she must milk his Epididymis. Where is the Doxy? Sub. I'll send her to thee: And but dispatch my Brace of little John Leydens, And come again my self. Fac. Are they within then?

  Sub. Numbring the sum.   Fac. How much?
  Sub. A hundred Marks, Boy.
  Fac. Why, this's a lucky day! Ten pounds of Mammon!

Three o' my Clark! A Portague o' my Grocer! This o' the Brethren! beside Reversions, And States to come i' the Widow, and my Count! My share to day will not be bought for forty —

  Dol. What?
  Fac. Pounds, dainty Dorothee, art thou so near?
  Dol. Yes, say Lord General, how fares our Camp?
  Fac. As with the few that had intrench'd themselves

Safe, by their Discipline, against a world, Dol. And laugh'd within those Trenches, and grew fat With thinking on the Booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small Parties. This dear hour A doughty Don is taken with my Dol; And thou maist make his Ransom what thou wilt, My Dousabel: He shall be brought here fetter'd

[column break]

With thy fair looks before he sees thee; and thrown In a Down-bed, as dark as any Dungeon; Where thou shalt keep him waking with thy Drum; Thy Drum, my Dol; thy Drum; till he be tame, As the poor Black-birds were i' the great Frost, Or Bees are with a Bason; and so hive him I' the Swan-skin Coverlid, and Cambrick Sheets, Till he work Honey and Wax, my little Gods-gift.

  Dol. What is he, General?   Fac. An Adalantado,

A Grande, Girl. Was not my Dapper here yet?

  Dol. No.   Fac. Nor my Drugger?
  Dol. Neither.   Fac. A Pox on 'em,

They are so long a furnishing! Such Stinkards Would not be seen upon these festival days. How now! ha' you done?

  Sub. Done. They are gone. The Sum

Is here in bank, my Face. I would we knew Another Chapman now would buy 'em out-right.

  Fac. 'Slid, Nab shall do't against he ha' the widow,

To furnish houshold. Sub. Excellent well thought on. Pray God he come. Fac. I pray he keep away Till our new business be o're past. Sub. But, Face, How cam'st thou by this Secret Don? Fac. A Spirit Brought me th' intelligence in a paper here, As I was conjuring yonder in my Circle For Surly, I ha' my Flies abroad. Your Bath Is famous, Subtle, by my means. Sweet Dol, You must go tune your Virginal, no losing O' the least time. And do you hear? good action. Firk, like a Flounder; kiss, like a Scallop, close: And tickle him with thy Mother-tongue. His great Verdugoship has not a jot of Language: So much the easier to be cozen'd; my Dolly, He will come here in a hir'd Coach, obscure, And our own Coach-man, whom I have sent as Guide, (One knocks. No creature else. Who's that?

  Sub. It is not he!
  Fac. O no, not yet this hour.
  Sub. Who is't?   Dol. Dapper,

Your Clark. Fac. God's will then, Queen of Fairy, On with your Tyre; and, Doctor, with your Robes. Let's dispatch him for God's sake. Sub. 'Twill be long.

  Fac. I warrant you, take but the Cues I give you,

It shall be brief enough. 'Slight, here are more! Abel, and I think the angry Boy, the Heir, That fain would quarrel.

  Sub. And the Widow?   Fac. No,

Not that I see. Away. O, Sir, you are welcome.

Act III. Scene IV.

Face, Dapper, Drugger, Kastril.

T He Doctor is within a moving for you;

(I have had the most ado to win him to it)

He swears you'll be the dearling o' the Dice: He never heard her Highness dote till now (he says.) Your Aunt has giv'n you the most gracious words That can be thought on. Dap. Shall I see her Grace?

  Fac. See her, and kiss her too. What, honest Nab!

Ha'st brought the Damask! Nab. No, Sir, here's Tobacco.

  Fac. 'Tis well done, Nab: Thou'lt bring the Damask too?
  Dru. Yes, here's the Gentleman, Captain, Master Kastril,

I have brought to see the Doctor.

  Fac. Where's the widow?
  Dru. Sir, as he likes, his Sister (he says) shall come.
  Fac. O, is it so? 'Good time. Is your Name Kastril, Sir?
  Kas. I, and the best of the Kastrils, I'lld be sorry else,

By fifteen hundred a year. Where is this Doctor? My mad Tobacco-boy, here, tells me of one That can do things. Has he any Skill? Fac. Wherein, Sir?

  Kas. To carry a business, manage a Quarrel fairly,

Upon fit terms. Fac. It seems, Sir, yo' are but young About the Town, that can make that a Question! Kas.


224 The Alchemist.

  Kas. Sir, not so young, but I have heard some speech

Of the angry Boys, and seen 'em take Tobacco; And in his Shop: And I can take it too. And I would fain be one of 'em, and go down And practise i' the Countrey. Fac. Sir, for the Duello, The Doctor, I assure you, shall inform you, To the least shadow of a hair: and shew you An Instrument he has of his own making, Wherewith no sooner shall you make report Of any Quarrel, but he will take the height on't Most instantly, and tell in what degree Of Safety it lies in, or Mortality. And how it may be born, whether in a Right Line Or a Half-Circle; or may else be cast Into an Angle blunt, if not acute: All this he will demonstrate. And then, Rules To give and take the Lie by. Kas. How? to take it?

  Fac. Yes, in Oblique he'll shew you, or in Circle;

But never in Diameter. The whole Town Study his Theoremes, and dispute them ordinarily At the eating Academies. Kas. But does he teach Living by the wits too? Fac. Any thing whatever. You cannot think that Subtilty but he reads it. He made me a Captain. I was a stark Pimp, Just o' your standing, 'fore I met with him: It i' not two months since. I'll tell you his method: First, he will enter you at some Ordinary.

  Kas. No, I'll not come there. You shall pardon me.
  Fac. For why, Sir?
  Kas. There's gaming there, and tricks.
  Fac. Why, would you be

A Gallant, and not game? Kas. I, 'twill spend a man.

  Fac. Spend you? It will repair you when you are spent.

How do they live by their wits there, that have vented Six times your Fortunes?

  Kas. What, three thousand a year!
  Fac. I, forty thousand.
  Kas. Are there such?   Fac. I, Sir.

And Gallants yet. Here's a young Gentleman Is born to nothing, forty Marks a year, Which I count nothing. He is to be initiated, And have a flye o' the Doctor. He will win you By unresistable luck, within this fortnight, Enough to buy a Barony. They will set him Upmost at the Groom-Porters all the Christmass! And for the whole year through at every place Where there is play, present him with the Chair; The best Attendance, the best Drink; sometimes Two Glasses of Canary, and pay nothing; The purest Linnen, and the sharpest Knife, The Partridg next his Trencher: and somewhere The dainty Bed, in private, with the dainty. You shall ha' your Ordinaries bid for him, As Play-houses for a Poet; and the Master Pray him aloud to name what Dish he affects, Which must be butter'd Shrimps: and those that drink To no mouth else, will drink to his, as being The goodly, president Mouth of all the Board.

  Kas. Do you not gull one?
  Fac. 'Od's my life! Do you think it?

You shall have a cast Commander, (can but get In credit with a Glover, or a Spurrier, For some two pair of either's ware, afore-hand) Will, by most swift Posts dealing with him, Arrive at competent means to keep himself, His Punk, and naked Boy, in excellent fashion, And be admir'd for't. Kas. Will the Doctor teach this?

  Fac. He will do more, Sir, when your Land is gone,

(As men of Spirit hate to keep Earth long) In a vacation, when small money is stirring, And Ordinaries suspended till the Term, He'll shew a perspective, where on one side You shall behold the Faces and the Persons Of all sufficient young Heirs in Town,

[column break]

Whose Bonds are currant for Commodity; On th' other side, the Merchants Forms, and others, That without help of any second Broker, (Who would expect a share) will trust such parcels. In the third Square, the very Street, and Sign Where the Commodity dwells, and does but wait To be deliver'd, be it Pepper, Sope, Hops, or Tobacco, Oat-meal, Woad, or Cheeses. All which you may so handle, to enjoy To your own use, and never stand oblig'd.

  Kas. I'faith! Is he such a Fellow?
  Fac. Why, Nab here knows him.

And then for making Matches for rich Widows, Young Gentlewomen, Heirs, the fortunat'st man! He's sent to, far and near, all over England, To have his Counsel, and to know their Fortunes.

  Kas. Gods will, my Suster shall see him.
  Fac. I'll tell you, Sir,

What he did tell me of Nab. It's a strange thing! (By the way, you must eat no Cheese, Nab, it breeds

     Melancholy:

And that same Melancholy breeds Worms) but pass it, He told me, honest Nab, here, was ne're at Tavern But once in's life! Dru. Truth, and no more I was not.

  Fac. And then he was so sick —
  Dru. Could he tell you that too?
  Fac. How should I know it?
  Dru. In troth we had been a shooting,

And had a piece of fat Ram-mutton to supper, That lay so heavy o' my stomack —

  Fac. And he has no head

To bear any Wine; for what with the noise o' the Fidlers, And care of his Shop, for he dares keep no Servants —

  Dru. My head did so ake ———
  Fac. As he was fain to be brought home,

The Doctor told me. And then a good old woman —

  Dru. (Yes faith, she dwells in Sea-coal-lane) did cure me,

With sodden Ale, and Pellitory o' the Wall: Cost me but two pence. I had another sickness Was worse than that. Fac. I, that was with the grief Thou took'st for being sess'd at eighteen pence, For the Water-work. Dru. In truth, and it was like T' have cost me almost my life. Fac. Thy hair went off?

  Dru. Yes, Sir, 'twas done for spight.
  Fac. Nay, so says the Doctor.
  Kas. Pray thee, Tobacco-boy, go fetch my Suster,

I'll see this learned Boy before I go: And so shall she. Fac. Sir, he is busie now: But if you have a Sister to fetch hither, Perhaps your own pains may command her sooner; And he by that time will be free. Kas. I go.

  Fac. Drugger, she's thine: the Damask. (Subtle and I

Must wrastle for her.) Come on, Master Dapper. You see how I turn Clients here away, To give your Cause dispatch. Ha' you perform'd The Ceremonies were enjoyn'd you?

  Dap. Yes, o' the Vinegar,

And the clean Shirt.

  Fac. 'Tis well: that Shirt may do you

More worship than you think. Your Aunt's afire, But that she will not shew it, t' have a sight on you. Ha' you provided for her Graces Servants?

  Dap. Yes, here are six score Edward Shillings.
  Fac. Good.
  Dap. And an old Harry's Soveraign.   Fac. Very good.
  Dap. And three James Shillings, and an Elizabeth Groat,

Just twenty Nobles. Fac. O, you are too just. I would you had had the other Noble in Maries.

  Dap. I have some Philip and Maries.   Fac. I, those same

Are best of all. Where are they? Hark, the Doctor.


Act


           The Alchemist.	225

Act III. Scene V.

Subtle, Face, Dapper. Dol.

Subtle disguis'd like a Priest of Fairy.

I S yet her Graces Cousin come? Fac. He is come.

  Sub. And is he fasting?   Fac. Yes.
  Sub. And hath cry'd Hum?
  Fac. Thrice, you must answer.   Dap. Thrice.
  Sub. And as oft Buz?
  Fac. If you have, say.   Dap. I have.   Sub. Then, to her Cuz,

Hoping that he hath Vinegar'd his Senses, As he was bid, the Fairy Queen dispenses, By me, this Robe, the Petticoat of Fortune; Which that he straight put on, she doth importune. And though to Fortune near be her Petticoat, Yet nearer is her Smock, the Queen doth note: And therefore, even of that a piece she hath sent, Which, being a Child, to wrap him in was rent; And prays him for a Scarf he now will wear it (With as much love as then her Grace did tear it) [They blind him

 with a Rag.

About his Eyes, to shew he is fortunate. And, trusting unto her to make his State, He'll throw away all worldly Pelf about him; Which that he will perform, she doth not doubt him.

  Fac. She need not doubt him, Sir. Alas, he has nothing,

But what he will part withal as willingly, Upon her Graces word (Throw away your Purse.) As she would ask it: (Handkerchiefs and all) She cannot bid that thing, but he'll obey. (If you have a Ring about you, cast it off, Or a silver Seal at your Wrist; her Grace will send Her Fairies here to search you, therefore deal Directly with her Highness. If they find That you conceal a Mite, you are undone.) [He throws away, as they bid him.

  Dap. Truly, there's all.
  Fac. All what?   Dap. My Money, truly.
  Fac. Keep nothing that is transitory about you.

(Bid Dol play Musick.) Look, the Elves are come To pinch you, if you tell not truth. Advise you. [Dol enters with a Cittern; they pinch him.

  Dap. O, I have a Paper with a Spur-ryal in't.   Fac. Ti, ti,

They knew't, they say. Sub. Ti, ti, ti, ti, he has more yet.

  Fac. Ti, ti-ti-ti. I' the t'other Pocket?
  Sub. Titi, titi, titi, titi, titi.

They must pinch him, or he will never confess, they say.

  Dap. O, o.
  Fac. Nay, pray you hold. He is her Graces Nephew.

Ti, ti, ti? What care you? Good faith, you shall care. Deal plainly, Sir, and shame the Fairies. Shew You are an Innocent.

  Dap. By this good Light, I ha' nothing.
  Sub. Ti, ti, ti, ti, to ta. He does equivocate, she says,

Ti, ti do ti, ti ti do, ti da; and swears by the Light, when

     he is blinded.
  Dap. By this good Dark, I ha' nothing but a Half-crown

Of Gold, about my Wrist, that my Love gave me; And a Leaden Heart I wore sin' she forsook me.

  Fac. I thought 'twas something. And would you incur

Your Aunts displeasure for these Trifles? Come, I had rather you had thrown away twenty Half-crowns. You may wear your Leaden Heart still. How now?

  Sub. What News, Dol?
  Dol. Yonder's your Knight, Sir Mammon.
  Fac. Gods lid, we never thought of him till now.

Where is he? Dol. Here, hard by. H'is at the Door.

  Sub. And you are not ready now? Dol, get his Suit.

He must be sent back. Fac. O, by no means. What shall we do with this same Puffing here, Now he's o' the Spit?

  Sub. Why, lay him back a while,

[column break]

With some Device. Ti, ti ti, ti ti ti. Would her Grace

     speak with me?

I come. Help, Dol. Fac. Who's there? Sir Epicure, [He speaks through the Key-hole, the other knocking.

My Master's i' the way. Please you to walk Three or four Turns, but till his back be turn'd, And I am for you. Quickly, Dol. Sub. Her Grace Commends her kindly to you, Master Dapper.

  Dap. I long to see her Grace.   Sub. She now is set

At Dinner in her Bed, and has sent you From her own private Trencher, a dead Mouse, And a piece of Gingerbread, to be merry withal, And stay your Stomach, lest you faint with fasting: Yet if you could hold out till she saw you (she says) It would be better for you. Fac. Sir, he shall Hold out, and 'twere this two Hours, for her Highness; I can assure you that. We will not lose All we ha' done — Sub. He must not see, nor speak To any body, till then. Fac. For that we'll put, Sir, A Stay in's Mouth. Sub. Of what? Fac. Of Gingerbread. Make you it fit. He that hath pleas'd her Grace Thus far, shall not now crinkle for a little. Gape Sir, and let him fit you. Sub. Where shall we now Bestow him? Dol. I' the Privy. Sub. Come along, Sir, I now must shew you Fortune's Privy Lodgings.

  Fac. Are they perfum'd, and his Bath ready?   Sub. All.

Only the Fumigation's somewhat strong.

  Fac. Sir Epicure, I am yours, Sir, by and by.


Act IV. Scene I.

Face, Mammon, Dol.

O

Sir, yo' are come i' the only finest time —
  Mam. Where's Master?
  Fac. Now preparing for Projection, Sir.

Your Stuff will b' all chang'd shortly.

  Mam. Into Gold?
  Fac. To Gold and Silver, Sir.   Mam. Silver I care not for.
  Fac. Yes, Sir, a little to give Beggars.
  Mam. Where's the Lady?
  Fac. At hand here. I ha' told her such brave things o' you,

Touching your Bounty, and your noble Spirit —

  Mam. Hast thou?
  Fac. As she is almost in her Fit to see you.

But, good Sir, no Divinity i' your Conference, For fear of putting her in rage — Mam. I warrant thee.

  Fac. Six Men will not hold her down. And then

If the old Man should hear or see you — Mam. Fear not.

  Fac. The very House, Sir, would run mad. You know it,

How scrupulous he is, and violent, 'Gainst the least act of Sin. Physick, or Mathematicks, Poetry, State, or Bawd'ry (as I told you) She will endure, and never startle: But No word of Controversie. Mam. I am school'd, good Ulen.

  Fac. And you must praise her House, remember that,

And her Nobility. Mam. Let me alone: No Herald, nor no Antiquary, Lungs, Shall do it better. Go. Fac. Why, this is yet A kind of modern Happiness, to have Dol Common for a great Lady. Mam. Now, Epicure, Heighten thy self, talk to her, all in Gold; Rain her as many Showers as Jove did Drops Unto his Danae: Shew the God a Miser, Compar'd with Mammon. What? the Stone will do't. She shall feel Gold, taste Gold, hear Gold, sleep Gold: Nay, we will concumbere Gold. I will be puissant, And mighty in my talk to her. Here she comes.

  Fac. To him, Dol, suckle him. This is the noble Knight,

I told your Ladiship — Mam. Madam, with your pardon, I kiss your Vesture. Dol. Sir, I were uncivil If I would suffer that; my Lip to you, Sir.

  Mam. I hope my Lord your Brother be in health, Lady.

G g Dol. My


226 The Alchemist.

  Dol. My Lord, my Brother is, though I no Lady, Sir.
  Fac. (Well said, my Guiny-bird.)
  Mam. Right noble Madam ——
  Fac. (O, we shall have most fierce Idolatry.)
  Mam. 'Tis your Prerogative.
  Dol. Rather your Courtesie.
  Mam. Were there nought else t'enlarge your Vertues to me,

These Answers speak your Breeding, and your Blood.

  Dol. Blood we boast none, Sir, a poor Barons Daughter.
  Mam. Poor! and gat you? Profane not. Had your father

Slept all the happy remnant of his Life After that Act, lien but there still, and panted, H' had done enough to make himself, his Issue, And his Posterity Noble. Dol. Sir, although We may be said to want the Gilt and Trapings, The Dress of Honour, yet we strive to keep The Seeds and the Materials. Mam. I do see The old Ingredient, Vertue, was not lost, Nor the Drug Money us'd to make your Compound. There is a strange Nobility i' your Eye, This Lip, that Chin! Methinks you do resemble One o' the Austriack Princes. Fac. Very like, Her Father was an Irish Costarmonger.

  Mam. The House of Valois just had such a Nose,

And such a Forehead yet the Medici Of Florence boast. Dol. Troth, and I have been lik'ned To all these Princes. Fac. I'll be sworn, I heard it.

  Mam. I know not how! it is not any one,

But e'en the very choice of all their Features.

  Fac. I'll in, and laugh.   Mam. A certain Touch, or Air,

That sparkles a Divinity, beyond An earthly Beauty! Dol. O, you play the Courtier.

  Mam. Good Lady, gi' me leave ——
  Dol. In faith, I may not,

To mock me, Sir. Mam. To burn i' this sweet Flame; The Phœnix never knew a nobler Death.

  Dol. Nay, now you court the Courtier, and destroy

What you would build. This Art, Sir, i' your words, Calls your whole Faith in question. Mam. By my Soul —

  Dol. Nay Oaths are made o' the same air, Sir.   Mam. Nature

Never bestow'd upon Mortality A more unblam'd, a more harmonious Feature: She play'd the Step-dame in all Faces else. Sweet Madam, le' me be particular ——

  Dol. Particular, Sir? I pray you know your Distance.
  Mam. In no ill sense, sweet Lady, but to ask

How your fair Graces pass the Hours? I see Yo' are lodg'd here, i' the House of a rare Man, An excellent Artist; but what's that to you?

  Dol. Yes, Sir; I study here the Mathematicks,

And Distillation. Mam. O, I cry you pardon. He's a Divine Instructer, can extract The Souls of all things by his Art; call all The Vertues, and the Miracles of the Sun, Into a temperate Furnace; teach dull Nature What her own Forces are. A Man, the Emp'ror Has courted, above Kelley; sent his Medals And Chains, t' invite him.

  Dol. I, and for his Physick, Sir —
  Mam. Above the Art of Æsculapius,

That drew the Envy of the Thunderer! I know all this, and more. Dol. Troth, I am taken, Sir, Whole with these Studies, that contemplate Nature.

  Mam. It is a noble Humour: But this Form

Was not intended to so dark a use. Had you been crooked, foul, of some course Mold, A Cloyster had done well; but such a Feature That might stand up the Glory of a Kingdom, To live Recluse! is a meer Solœcism, Though in a Nunnery. It must not be. I muse, my Lord your Brother will permit it! You should spend half my Land first, were I he. Does not this Diamant better on my Finger, Than i' the Quarry? Dol. Yes. Mam. Why, you are like it.

[column break]

You were created, Lady, for the Light! Here, you shall wear it; take it, the first Pledge Of what I speak, to bind you to believe me.

  Dol. In Chains of Adamant?
  Mam. Yes, the strongest Bands.

And take a Secret too. Here, by your Side, Doth stand, this Hour, the happiest Man in Europe.

  Dol. You are contented, Sir?   Mam. Nay, in true being,

The Envy of Princes, and the Fear of States.

  Dol. Say you so, Sir Epicure!
  Mam. Yes, and thou shalt prove it,

Daughter of Honour. I have cast mine Eye Upon thy Form, and I will rear this Beauty Above all Styles. Dol. You mean no Treason, Sir!

  Mam. No, I will take away that Jealousie.

I am the Lord of the Philosophers Stone, And thou the Lady. Dol. How, Sir! ha' you that?

  Mam. I am the Master of the Mastery.

This day the good old Wretch here o' the House Has made it for us: Now he's at Projection. Think therefore thy first Wish now; let me hear it: And it shall rain into thy Lap, no Shower, But Floods of Gold, whole Cataracts, a Deluge, To get a Nation on thee. Dol. You are pleas'd, Sir, To work on the Ambition of our Sex.

  Mam. I'm pleas'd, the Glory of her Sex should know,

This Nook, here, of the Friers is no Climate For her to live obscurely in, to learn Physick and Surgery, for the Constables Wife Of some odd Hundred in Essex: but come forth, And taste the Air of Palaces; eat, drink The Toils of Emp'ricks, and their boasted Practice; Tincture of Pearl and Corral, Gold and Amber; Be seen at Feasts and Triumphs; have it ask'd, What Miracle she is? Set all the Eyes Of Court a-fire, like a Burning-glass, And work 'em into Cinders, when the Jewels Of twenty States adorn thee, and the Light Strikes out the Stars; that when thy Name is mention'd, Queens may look pale; and we but shewing our Love, Nero's Poppæa may be lost in Story! Thus will we have it. Dol. I could well consent, Sir. But, in a Monarchy, how will this be? The Prince will soon take notice, and both seise You and your Stone, it being a Wealth unfit For any private Subject. Mam. If he knew it.

  Dol. Your self do boast it, Sir.   Mam. To thee, my Life.
  Dol. O, but beware, Sir! You may come to end

The remnant of your Days in a loath'd Prison, By speaking of it. Mam. 'Tis no idle fear: We'll therefore go withal, my Girl, and live In a Free State, where we will eat our Mullets, Sous'd in High-Country Wines, sup Pheasants Eggs, And have our Cockles, boil'd in Silver Shells, Our Shrimps to swim again, as when they liv'd, In a rare Butter, made of Dolphins Milk, Whose Cream does look like Opals; and with these Delicate Meats set our selves high for Pleasure, And take us down again, and then renew Our Youth and Strength, with drinking the Elixir, And so enjoy a Perpetuity Of Life and Lust. And thou shalt ha' thy Wardrobe Richer than Natures, still to change thy self, And vary oftner, for thy Pride, than she, Or Art, her wise and almost-equal Servant.

  Fac. Sir, you are too loud. I hear you every word

Into the Labaratory. Some fitter place; The Garden, or great Chamber above. How like you her?

  Mam. Excellent! Lungs. There's for thee.
  Fac. But do you hear?

Good Sir, beware, no mention of the Rabbins.

  Mam. We think not on 'em.
  Fac. O, it is well, Sir. Subtle!

Act


           The Alchemist.	227

Act IV. Scene II.

Face, Subtle, Kastril, Dame Pliant.

D Ost thou not laugh?

  Sub. Yes. Are they gone?   Fac. All's clear.
  Sub. The Widow is come.
  Fac. And your quarrelling Disciple?
  Sub. I.   Fac. I must to my Captainship again then.
  Sub. Stay, bring 'em in first.
  Fac. So I meant. What is she?

A Bony-bell? Sub. I know not. Fac. We'll draw Lots, You'll stand to that?

  Sub. What else?   Fac. O, for a Suit,

To fall now like a Curtain, flap. Sub. To th' Door, Man.

  Fac. You'll have the first Kiss, 'cause I am not ready.
  Sub. Yes, and perhaps hit you thro' both the Nostrils.
  Fac. Who would you speak with?
  Kas. Where's the Captain?   Fac. Gone, Sir,

About some Business.

  Kas. Gone?   Fac. He'll return straight.

But Master Doctor, his Lieutenant, is here.

  Sub. Come near, my worshipful Boy, my Terræ Fili,

That is, my Boy of Land; make thy Approaches: Welcome: I know thy Lust, and thy Desires, And I will serve and satisfie 'em. Begin, Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this Line; Here is my Center: Ground thy Quarrel. Kas. You lie.

  Sub. How, Child of Wrath and Anger! the lowd Lie?

For what, my sudden Boy? Kas. Nay, that look you to, I am afore-hand. Sub. O, this's no true Grammar, And as ill Logick! You must render Causes, Child, Your first and second Intentions, know your Canons, And your Divisions, Moods, Degrees, and Differences, Your Predicaments, Substance, and Accident, Series extern and intern, with their Causes Efficient, Material, Formal, Final, And ha' your Elements perfect — Kas. What is this! The angry Tongue he talks in? Sub. That false Precept, Of being afore-hand, has deceiv'd a number, And made 'em enter Quarrels, often-times, Before they were aware; and afterward, Against their Wills. Kas. How must I do then, Sir?

  Sub. I cry this Lady mercy: She should first

Have been saluted. I do call you Lady, Because you are to be one, ere't be long, [He kisses her. My soft and buxom Widow.

  Kas. Is she, i' faith?
  Sub. Yes, or my Art is an egregious Liar.
  Kas. How know you?
  Sub. By inspection on her Forehead,

And subtilty of her Lip, which must be tasted [He kisses her again. Often, to make a Judgment. 'Slight, she melts Like a Myrabolane! Here is yet a Line, In Rivo Frontis, tells me, he is no Knight.

  Pli. What is he then, Sir?   Sub. Let me see your Hand.

O, your Linea Fortunæ makes it plain; And Stella here, in Monte Veneris: But, most of all, junctura annularis. He is a Soldier, or a Man of Art, Lady. But shall have some great Honour shortly. Pli. Brother, He's a rare Man, believe me! Kas. Hold your peace. Here comes the t'other rare Man. 'Save you, Captain.

  Fac. Good Master Kastril. Is this your Sister?   Kas. I, Sir.

Please you to kuss her, and be proud to know her?

  Fac. I shall be proud to know you, Lady.   Pli. Brother,

He calls me Lady too. Kas. I, peace. I heard it.

  Fac. The Count is come.
  Sub. Where is he?   Fac. At the Door.
  Sub. Why, you must entertain him.   Fac. What'll you do

With these the while?

  Sub. Why, have 'em up, and shew 'em

Some fustian Book, or the dark Glass. Fac. 'Fore God,

[column break]

She is a delicate Dab-chick! I must have her.

  Sub. Must you? I, if your Fortune will, you must.

Come, Sir, the Captain will come to us presently: I'll ha' you to my Chamber of Demonstrations, Where I'll shew you both the Grammar, and Logick, And Rhetorick of Quarrelling; my whole Method Drawn out in Tables; and my Instrument, That hath the several Scales upon't, shall make you Able to quarrel, at a Straws-breadth, by Moon-light. And, Lady, I'll have you look in a Glass, Some half an hour, but to clear your Eye-sight, Against you see your Fortune; which is greater Than I may judge upon the sudden, trust me.

Act IV. Scene III.

Face, Subtle, Surly.

W Here are you, Doctor?

  Sub. I'll come to you presently.
  Fac. I will ha' this same Widow, now I ha' seen her,

On any Composition. Sub. What do you say?

  Fac. Ha' you dispos'd of them?   Sub. I ha' sent 'em up.
  Fac. Subtle, in troth, I needs must have this Widow.
  Sub. Is that the matter?
  Fac. Nay, but hear me.   Sub. Go to,

If you rebel once, Dol shall know it all. Therefore be quiet, and obey your Chance.

  Fac. Nay, thou art so violent now — Do but conceive:

Thou art old, and canst not serve ——

  Sub. Who, cannot I?

'Slight, I will serve her with thee, for a — Fac. Nay, But understand: I'll gi' you Composition.

  Sub. I will not treat with thee: What, sell my Fortune?

'Tis better than my Birth-right. Do not murmur. Win her, and carry her. If you grumble, Dol Knows it directly. Fac. Well, Sir, I am silent. Will you go help to fetch in Don in state?

  Sub. I follow you, Sir: We must keep Face in awe,

Or he will over-look us like a Tyrant. Brain of a Taylor! Who comes here? Don John! [Surly like a Spaniard.

  Sur. Sennores, beso las manos, à vuestras mercedes.
  Sub. Would you had stoop'd a little, and kist our anos.
  Fac. Peace, Subtle.   Sub. Stab me; I shall never hold, man.

He looks in that deep Ruff, like a Head in a Platter, Serv'd in by a short Cloke upon two Tressils.

  Fac. Or, what do you say to a Collar of Brawn, cut down

Beneath the Souse, and wriggled with a Knife?

  Sub. 'Slud, he does look too fat to be a Spaniard.
  Fac. Perhaps some Fleming, or some Hollander got him

In d' Alva's time; Count Egmont's Bastard. Sub. Don, Your scurvy, yellow, Madrid Face is welcome.

  Sur. Gratia.   Sub. He speaks out of a Fortification.

Pray God he ha' no Squibs in those deep Sets.

  Sur. Por dios, Sennores, muy linda casa!
  Sub. What says he?   Fac. Praises the House, I think;

I know no more but's Action. Sub. Yes, the Casa, My precious Diego, will prove fair enough To cozen you in. Do you mark? You shall Be cozen'd, Diego. Fac. Cozen'd, do you see? My worthy Donzel, cozen'd. Sur. Entiendo.

  Sub. Do you intend it? So do we, dear Don.

Have you brought Pistolets, or Portagues, My solemn Don? Dost thou feel any? Fac. Full. [He feels his Pockets.

  Sub. You shall be emptied, Don, pumped, and drawn

Dry, as they say. Fac. Milked, in troth, sweet Don.

  Sub. See all the Monsters; the great Lion of all, Don.
  Sur. Con licencia, se puede ver à esta Sennora?
  Sub. What talks he now?
  Fac. O' the Sennora.   Sub. O, Don,

That is the Lioness, which you shall see Also, my Don. Fac. 'Slid, Subtle, how shall we do? G g 2 Sub. For


218228 The Alchemist.

  Sub. For what?
  Fac. Why Dol's employ'd, you know.   Sub. That's true.

'Fore Heaven, I know not: He must stay, that's all.

  Fac. Stay! That he must not, by no means.
  Sub. No! Why?
  Fac. Unless you'll mar all. 'Slight, he'll suspect it:

And then he will not pay, not half so well. This is a travell'd Punk-master, and do's know All the Delays; a notable hot Rascal, And looks already rampant. Sub. 'Sdeath, and Mammon Must not be troubled. Fac. Mammon! in no case.

  Sub. What shall we do then?
  Fac. Think: you must be sudden.
  Sur. Entiendo, que la Sennora es tan hermosà, que codìcio tan

à ver la, como la bien aventuránza de mi vida.

  Fac. Mi vida? 'Slid, Subtle, he puts me in mind o' the Widow.

What dost thou say to draw her to't? ha? And tell her it is her Fortune? All our Venture Now lies upon't. It is but one Man more, Which on's chance to have her: and beside, There is no Maidenhead to be fear'd or lost. What dost thou think on't, Subtle?

  Sub. Who, I? Why ——
  Fac. The Credit of our House too is engag'd.
  Sub. You made me an Offer for my Share ere-while.

What wilt thou gi' me, i' faith? Fac. O, by that Light, I'll not buy now. You know your doom to me. E'en take your Lot, obey your Chance, Sir; win her, And wear her out, for me.

  Sub. 'Slight, I'll not work her then.
  Fac. It is the Common Cause; therefore bethink you.

Dol else must know it, as you said. Sub. I care not.

  Sur. Sennores, por que se tarda tanta?
  Sub. Faith I am not fit, I am old.
  Fac. That's now no Reason, Sir.
  Sur. Puedé ser, de hazer burla de mi amor.
  Fac. You hear the Don too? By this Air, I call,

And loose the Hinges: Dol. Sub. A Plague of Hell —

  Fac. Will you then do?   Sub. Yo' are a terrible Rogue;

I'll think of this: Will you, Sir, call the Widow?

  Fac. Yes, and I'll take her too, with all her Faults,

Now I do think on't better. Sub. With all my heart, Sir; Am I discharg'd o' the Lot? Fac. As you please. Sub. Hands.

  Fac. Remember now, that upon any Change,

You never claim her.

  Sub. Much good Joy, and Health to you, Sir.

Marry a Whore? Fate, let me wed a Witch first.

  Sur. Por estas honrada's barbas —
  Sub. He swears by his Beard.

Dispatch, and call the Brother too.

  Sur. Tiengo dùda, Sennores,

Que no me hóganhágan alguna traycion.

  Sub. How, issue on? Yes, præsto Sennor. Please you

Enthratha the Chambrata, worthy Don? Where, if it please the Fates, in your Bathada, You shall be soak'd, and stroak'd, and tub'd, and rub'd, And scrub'd, and fub'd, dear Don, before you go. You shall, in faith, my scurvy Baboon Don, Be curried, claw'd, and flaw'd, and taw'd, indeed. I will the heartilier go about it now, And make the Widow a Punk so much the sooner, To be reveng'd on this impetuous Face: The quickly doing of it, is the grace.

Act IV. Scene IV.

Face, Kastrill, Da. Pliant, Subtle, Surly.

C Ome, Lady: I knew the Doctor would not leave,

Till he had found the very nick of her Fortune.
  Kas. To be a Countess, say you? A Spanish Countess, Sir?
  Pli. Why, is that better than an English Countess?
  Fac. Better? 'Slight, make you that a Question, Lady?
  Kas. Nay, she is a Fool, Captain, you must pardon her.

[column break]

  Fac. Ask from your Courtier, to your Inns-of-Court-man,

To your meer Millener; they will tell you all, Your Spanish Gennet is the best Horse; your Spanish Stoup is the best Garb; your Spanish Beard Is the best Cut; your Spanish Ruffs are the best Wear; youyour Spanish Pavin the best Dance; Your Spanish Titillation in a Glove The best Perfume. And for your Spanish Pike, And Spanish Blade, let your poor Captain speak. Here comes the Doctor. Sub. My most honour'd Lady, (For so I am now to style you, having found By this my Scheme, you are to undergo An honourable Fortune, very shortly.) What will you say now, if some ——

  Fac. I had told her all, Sir;

And her right worshipful Brother here, that she shall be A Countess; do not delay 'em, Sir: a Spanish Countess.

  Sub. Still, my scarce worshipful Captain, you can keep

No Secret. Well, since he has told you, Madam, Do you forgive him, and I do.

  Kas. She shall do that, Sir.

I'll look to't, 'tis my Charge.

  Sub. Well then: Nought rests

But that she fit her Love now to her Fortune.

  Pli. Truly I shall never brook a Spaniard.   Sub. No?
  Pli. Never sin' Eighty-eight could I abide em,

And that was some three year afore I was born, in truth.

  Sub. Come, you must love him, or be miserable;

Chuse which you will.

  Fac. By this good Rush, perswade her,

She will cry Strawberries else, within this Twelve-month.

  Sub. Nay, Shads and Mackerel, which is worse.
  Fac. Indeed, Sir?
  Kas. Gods lid, you shall love him, or I'll kick you.
  Pli. Why?

I'll do as you will ha' me, Brother. Kas. Do, Or by this Hand I'll maull you. Fac. Nay, good Sir, Be not so fierce. Sub. No, my enraged Child, She will be rul'd. What, when she comes to taste The Pleasures of a Countess! to be courted —

  Fac. And kist, and ruffled!   Sub. I, behind the Hangings.
  Fac. And then come forth in pomp!
  Sub. And know her State!
  Fac. Of keeping all th' Idolaters o' the Chamber

Barer to her, than at their Prayers! Sub. Is serv'd Upon the Knee! Fac. And has her Pages, Ushers, Foot-men, and Coaches ——

  Sub. Her six Mares —— Fac. Nay, eight!
  Sub. To hurry her through London, to th' Exchange,

Bet'lem, the China-house, —— Fac. Yes, and have The Citizens gape at her, and praise her Tires! And my Lords Goose-turd Bands, that rides with her!

  Kas. Most brave! By this Hand, you are not my Sister,

If you refuse. Pli. I will not refuse, Brother.

  Sub.Sur. Que es esto, Sennores, que non se venga?

Esta tardanza me mata! Fac. It is the Count come? The Doctor knew he would be here, by his Art.

  Sub. En gallanta Madama, Don! gallantissima!
  Sur. Por tódos los dioses, la mas acabada

Hermosura, que he visto en mi vida!

  Fac. Is't not a gallant Language that they speak?
  Kas. An admirable Language! Is't not French?
  Fac. No, Spanish, Sir.   Kas. It goes like Law-French,

And that, they say, is the Courtliest Language. Fac. List, Sir.

  Sur. El Sol ha perdido su lumbre, con el

Resplandor, que tràe esta dama. Valga me dios!

  Fac. He admires your Sister.
  Kas. Must not she make Curt'sie?
  Sub. 'Ods will, she must go to him Man, and kiss him!

It is the Spanish Fashion, for the Women To make first court. Fac. 'Tis true he tells you, Sir: His Art knows all. Sur. Por que no se acùde?

  Kas. He speaks to her, I think.   Fac. That he does, Sir.
  Sur. Por el amor de dios, que es esto, que se tàda?

Kas. Nay,


           The Alchemist.	219229
  Kas. Nay, see: she will not understand him! Gull.

Noddy. Pli. What say you Brother? Kas. Ass, Suster, Go kuss him, as the cunning Man would ha' you, I'll thrust a Pin i' your Buttocks else. Fac. O, no Sir.

  Sur. Sennora mia, mi persona muy indigna esta

Alle gar a tànta Hermosura.

  Fac. Does he not use her bravely?   Kas. Bravely, i-faith!
  Fac. Nay, he will use her better.   Kas. Do you think so?
  Sur. Sennora, si sera servida, entremus.
  Kas. Where does he carry her?
  Fac. Into the Garden, Sir;

Take you no thought: I must interpret for her.

  Sub. Give Dol the word. Come, my fierce Child,
     advance,

We'll to our quarrelling Lesson again. Kas. Agreed. I love a Spanish Boy with all my Heart.

  Sub. Nay, and by this means, Sir, you shall be Brother

To a great Count. Kas. I, I knew that at first. This match will advance the House of the Kastrils.

  Sub. 'Pray God your Sister prove but pliant.
  Kas. Why,

Her name is so, by her other Husband. Sub. How!

  Kas. The Widow Pliant. Knew you not that?
  Sub. No faith, Sir:

Yet, by erection of her Figure, I guest it. Come, let's go practice. Kas. Yes, but do you think, Doctor, I e'er shall quarrel well? Sub. I warrant you.

Act IV. Scene V.

Dol, Mammon, Face, Subtle.

[In her fit of talking. F OR, after Alexanders death —

  Mam. Good Lady —
  Dol. That Perdiccas and Antigonus were slain,

The two that stood, Seleuc', and Ptolomee —

  Mam. Madam.   Dol. Made up the two Legs, and the
     fourth Beast.

That was Gog-north, and Egypt-south: which after Was call'd Gog Iron-leg, and South Iron-leg — Mam. Lady —

  Dol. And then Gog-horned. So was Egypt, too.

Then Egypt clay-leg, and Gog clay-leg —

  Mam. Sweet Madam.
  Dol. And last Gog-dust, and Egypt-dust, which fall

In the last Link of the fourth Chain. And these Be Stars in story, which none see, or look at —

  Mam. What shall I do?   Dol. For, as he says, except

We call the Rabbins, and the Heathen Greeks ——

  Mam. Dear Lady.   Dol. To come from Salem, and from
     Athens,

And teach the People of great Britain —

  Fac. What's the matter, Sir?
  Dol. To speak the tongue of Eber, and Javan — Mam. O,

She's in her fit. Dol. We shall know nothing — Fac. Death, Sir, We are undone. Dol. Where then a learned Linguist SallShall see the ancient us'd communion Of Vowels and Consonants — Fac. My Master will hear!

  Dol. A wisdom, which Pythagoras held most high —
  Mam. Sweet honourable Lady.   Dol. To comprise

All sounds of Voyces, in few marks of Letters —

  Fac. Nay, you must never hope to lay her now.
  Dol. And so we may arrive by Talmud skill,

And prophane Greek, to raise the building up Of Helens House against the Ismaelite, King of Thogarma, and his Habergions Brimstony, blue, and fiery; and the force Of King Abaddon, and the Beast of Cittim; Which Rabbi David Kimchi, Onkelos, And Aben-Ezra do interpret Rome.

  Fac. How did you put her into't?   Mam. Alas, I talk'd

[They speak together. Of a fifth Monarchy I would erect, With the Philosophers 'stone' omitted (by chance) and she Falls on the other four strait. Fac. Out of Broughton! I told you so. 'Slid stop her Mouth. Mam. Is't best?

[column break]

  Fac. She'll never leave else. If the old Man hear her,

We are but fæces, Ashes. Sub. What's to do there?

  Fac. O, we are lost. Now she hears him, she is quiet.
  Mam. Where shall I hide me?

[Upon Subtle's entry they disperse.

  Sub. How! what sight is here!

Close deeds of darkness, and that shun the light! Bring him again. Who is he? what, my Son! O, I have liv'd too long. Mam. Nay good, dear Father, There was no unchaste purpose. Sub. Not? and flee me, When I come in? Mam. That was my error. Sub. Error? Guilt, guilt, my Son. Give it the right name. No marvel, If I found check in our great work within, When such affairs as these were managing!

  Mam. Why, have you so?
  Sub. It has stood still this half hour:

And all the rest of our less works gone back. Where is the instrument of wickedness, My lewd false drudge? Mam. Nay, good Sir, blame not him. Believe me, 'twas against his will, or knowledge. I saw her by chance. Sub. Will you commit more sin, T' excuse a Varlet? Mam. By my hope 'tis true, Sir.

  Sub. Nay, then I wonder less, if you, for whom

The blessing was prepar'd, would so tempt Heaven: And lose your fortunes. Mam. VVhy, Sir?

  Sub. This 'll retard

The work, a Month at least. Mam. VVhy, if it do, VVhat remedy? but think it not, good Father: Our purposes were honest. Sub. As they were, So the reward will prove. How now! Aye me. God, and all Saints be good to us. VVhat's that? [A great crack and noise within.

  Fac. O Sir, we are defeated! all the works

Are flown in fumo: every Glass is burst. Fornace, and all rent down! as if a bolt Of Thunder had been driven through the House. Retorts, Receivers, Pellicanes, Bolt-heads, All struck in shivers! Help, good Sir! Alas, [Subtle falls down as in a swoon.

Coldness and death invades him. Nay, Sir Mammon, Do the fair offices of a Man! You stand, As you were readier to depart than he. VVho's there? My Lord her Brother is come.

  Mam. Ha, Lungs?
  Fac. His Coach is at the Door. Avoid his sight,

[One knocks.

For he's as furious as his Sister is mad.

  Mam. Alas!
  Fac. My Brain is quite undone with the fume, Sir.

I ne'er must hope to be mine own Man again.

  Mam. Is all lost, Lungs? VVill nothing be preserv'd,

Of all our cost? Fac. Faith, very little, Sir. A peck of Coals, or so, which is cold comfort, Sir.

  Mam. O my voluptuous mind! I am justly punish'd.
  Fac. And so am I, Sir.
  Mam. Cast from all my hopes ——
  Fac. Nay, certainties, Sir.
  Mam. By mine own base affections.
  Sub. O, the curst fruits of Vice and Lust!

[Subtle seems come to himself.

  Mam. Good Father,

It was my sin. Forgive it. Sub. Hangs my Roof Over us still, and will not fall, O justice, Upon us, for this wicked Man! Fac. Nay, look, Sir, You grieve him now with staying in his sight: Good Sir, the noble Man will come too, and take you, And that may breed a Tragœdy. Mam. I'll go.

  Fac. I, and repent at home, Sir. It may be,

For some good Penance you may ha't yet; A hundred pound to the Box at Bet'lem — Mam. Yes.

  Fac. For the restoring such as ha' their wits.
  Mam. I'll do't.
  Fac. I'll send one to you to receive it.   Mam. Do.

Is no projection left? Fac. All flown, or stinks, Sir. Mam.


230 The Alchemist.

  Mam. Will nought be sav'd, that's good for Med'cine,
     think'st thou?
  Fac. I cannot tell, Sir. There will be, perhaps,

Something, about the scraping of the Shardes, VVill cure the Itch, though not your itch of mind, Sir. It shall be sav'd for you, and sent home. Good Sir, This way, for fear the Lord should meet you. Sub. Face.

  Fac. I.   Sub. Is he gone?   Fac. Yes, and as heavily

As all the Gold he hop'd for, were in his Blood. Let us be light though. Sub. I, as Balls, and bound And hit our Heads against the Roof for joy: There's so much of our care now cast away.

  Fac. Now to our Don.
  Sub. Yes, your young widow, by this time

Is made a Countess, Face: Sh' has been in travail Of a young Heir for you.

  Fac. Good, Sir.   Sub. Off with your case,

And greet her kindly, as a Bridegroom should, After these common hazards. Fac. Very well, Sir. VVill you go fetch Don Diego off, the while?

  Sub. And fetch him over too, if you'll be pleas'd, Sir:

VVould Dol were in her place, to pick his Pockets now.

  Fac. VVhy, you can do it as well, if you would set to't.

I pray you prove your vertue. Sub. For your sake, Sir.

Act IV. Scene VI.

Surly, Da. Pliant, Subtle, Face.

L Ady, you see into what hands you are faln;

'Mongst what a nest of Villains! and how near

Your honour was t'have catch'd a certain clap (Through your credulity) had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, And other circumstances would ha' made a Man: For yo'are a handsome woman: would yo'were wise too. I am a Gentleman come here disguis'd, Only to find the knaveries of this Citadel, And where I might have wrong'd your honour, and have not, I claim some interest in your love. You are, They say, a widow, rich: and I am a Batchellor, VVorth nought: your fortunes may make me a Man, As mine ha' preser'vd you a woman. Think upon it, And whether I have deserv'd you, or no.

  Pli. I will, Sir.
  Sur. And for these houshold-rogues, let me alone,

To treat with them.

  Sub. How doth my noble Diego?

And my dear Madam Countess? Hath the Count Been courteous, Lady? liberal? and open? Donzel, methinks you look melancholick, After your coitum, and scurvy! True-ly, I do not like the dulness of your Eye: It hath a heavy cast, 'tis upsee Dutch, And says you are a lumpish whore-master. Be lighter, I will make your Pockets so. [He falls to picking of them.

  Sur. VVill you, Don Bawd, and pick-purse? How now?
     Reel you?

Stand up Sir, you shall find since I am so heavy, I'll gi' you equal weight. Sub. Help, murder!

  Sur. No, Sir.

There's no such thing intended. A good Cart, And a clean Whip shall ease you of that fear. I am the Spanish Don, that should be cozened, Do you see? cozened? where's your Captain Face? That parcel-broker, and whole-bawd, all Raskal.

  Fac. How, Surly!
  Sur. O, make your approach, good Captain.

I' have found from whence your Copper Rings, and

     Spoons

Come, now, wherewith you cheat abroad in Taverns. 'Twas here you learn'd t'anoint your Boot with Brim-

     stone,

[column break]

Then rub Mens Gold on't, for a kind of touch, And say 'twas naught, when you had chang'd the colour, That you might ha't for nothing. And this Doctor, Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he Will close you so much Gold, in a Bolts-head, And, on a turn, convey (i' the stead) another With sublim'd Mercury, that shall burst i' the heat, And fly out all in fumo? Then weeps Mammon: Then swoons his worship. Or, he is the Faustus, That casteth Figures, and can Conjure, cures Plague, Piles, and Pox, by the Ephemerides, And holds intelligence with all the Bawds, And Midwives of three Shires? while you send in — Captain, (what is he gone?) Dam'sels with Child, Wives that are barren, or the waiting maid With the Green sickness? Nay Sir, you must tarry Though he be scap't; and answer, by the Ears, Sir.

Act IV. Scene VII.

Face, Kastril, Surly, Subtle, Drugger, Ananias, Dame Pliant, Dol.

W Hy, now's the time, if ever you will quarrel

Well (as they say) and be a true-born Child.

The Doctor, and your Sister both are abus'd.

  Kas. VVhere is he? which is he? he is a slave

VVhat ere he is, and the Son of a VVhore. Are you The Man, Sir, I would know?

  Sur. I should be loth, Sir,

To confess so much.

  Kas. Then you lye i' your Throat.   Sur. How?
  Fac. A very errant Rogue, Sir, and a cheater,

Employ'd here by another Conjurer, That does not love the Doctor, and would cross him, If he knew how — Sur. Sir, you are abus'd.

  Kas. You lye:

And 'tis no matter. Fac. VVell said, Sir. He is The impudent'st Raskal ——

  Sur. You are indeed. VVill you hear me, Sir?
  Fac. By no means: Bid him be gone.
  Kas. Be gone, Sir, quickly.
  Sur. This's strange! Lady, do you inform your Brother.
  Fac. There is not such a foist in all the Town,

The Doctor had him presently: and finds yet, The Spanish Count will come here. Bear up Subtle.

  Sub. Yes, Sir, he must appear within this hour.
  Fac. And yet this Rogue would come in a disguise,

By the temptation of another Spirit, To trouble our Art, though he could not hurt it. Kas. I, I know — Away, you talk like a foolish Mauther.

  Sur. Sir, all is truth, she says.
  Fac. Do not believe him, Sir:

He is the lying'st Swabber! Come your ways, Sir.

  Sur. You are valiant out of company.
  Kas. Yes, how then, Sir?
  Fac. Nay, here's an honest fellow too, that knows him,

And all his tricks. (Make good what I say, Abel.) This cheater would ha' cozen'd thee o' the widow. He owes this honest Drugger, here, seven pound, He has had on him, in two-penny'orths of Tabacco.

  Dru. Yes Sir. And h' has damn'd himself three
     Terms to pay me.
  Fac. And what does he owe for Lotium?
  Dru. Thirty Shillings, Sir:

And for six Syringes. Sur. Hydra of villany!

  Fac. Nay, Sir, you must quarrel him out o' the House.
  Kas. I will.

Sir, if you get not out o' Doors, you lye: And you are a Pimp. Sur. VVhy, this is madness, Sir, Not valor in you: I must laugh at this.

  Kas. It is my humour: you are a Pimp, and a Trig,

And an Amadis de Gaule, or a Don Quixot.

Dru. Or


           The Alchemist.	231
  Dru. Or a Knight o' the curious Cox-comb. Do you see?
  Ana. Peace to the Houshold.
  Kas. I'll keep Peace for no Man.
  Ana. Casting of Dollers is concluded lawful.
  Kas. Is he the Constable?
  Sub. Peace Ananias.   Fac. No, Sir.
  Kas. Then you are an Otter, and a Shad, a Whit,

A very Tim. Sur. You'll hear me, Sir? Kas. I will not.

  Ana. What is the motive?
  Sub. Zeal in the young Gentleman,

Against his Spanish slops — Ana. They are prophane, Lewd, superstitious, and idolatrous Breeches.

  Sur. New Raskals!   Kas. Will you be gone, Sir?
  Ana. Avoid Satan.

Thou art not of the light. That Ruff of pride, About thy Neck, betrays thee: 'and is the same With that which the unclean Birds, in seventy-seven, Were seen to prank it with, on divers Coasts. Thou look'st like Antichrist, in that lewd Hat.

  Sur. I must give way.   Kas. Be gone, Sir.
  Sur. But I'll take

A course with you ——

  Ana. Depart, proud Spanish Fiend.
  Sur. Captain, and Doctor —   Ana. Child of perdition.
  Kas. Hence, Sir.

Did I not quarrel bravely? Fac. Yes, indeed, Sir.

  Kas. Nay, an' I give my mind to't, I shall do't.
  Fac. O, you must follow, Sir, and threaten him tame.

He'll turn again else. Kas. I'll return him then.

  Fac. Drugger, this Rogue prevented us, for thee:

We had determin'd that thou should'st ha' come, In a Spanish Sute, and ha' carried her so; and he A brokerly slave, goes, puts it on himself. Hast' brought the Damask? Dur. Yes, Sir.

  Fac. Thou must borrow

A Spanish Sute. Hast thou no credit with the Players?

  Dru. Yes, Sir: did you never see me play the fool?
  Fac. I know not, Nab: thou shalt, if I can help it.

Hieronymo's old Cloak, Ruff, and Hat will serve. [Subtle hath whispered with him this while.

I'll tell thee more when thou bring'st 'em. Ana. Sir, I know The Spaniard hates the Brethren, and hath spies Upon their actions: and that this was one I make no scruple. But the holy Synod Have been in Prayer, and Meditation for it. And 'tis reveal'd no less to them than me, That casting of money is most lawful. Sub. True: But here I cannot do it; if the House Shou'd chance to be suspected, all would out, And we be lock'd up in the Tower for ever, To make Gold there (for th' State) never come out: And then are you defeated. Ana. I will tell This to the Elders, and the weaker Brethren, That the whole company of the Separation May join in humble Prayer again. (Sub. And Fasting.)

  Ana. Yea, for some fitter place. The peace of mind

Rest with these Walls. Sub. Thanks, courteous Ananias.

  Fac. What did he come for?
  Sub. About casting Dollers,

Presently out of hand. And so I told him, A Spanish Minister came here to spie, Against the faithful — Fac. I conceive. Come Subtle, Thou art so down upon the least disaster! How wouldst tho' ha' done, if I had not helpt thee out?

  Sub. I thank thee Face, for the angry Boy, i-faith.
  Fac. Who would ha' lookt it should ha' been that
     Raskal

Surly? He had dy'd his Beard and all. Well, Sir, Here's Damask come to make you a Sute.

  Sur. Where's Drugger?
  Fac. He is gone to borrow me a Spanish habit;

I'll be the Count, now. Sub. But where's the widow?

  Fac. Within, with my Lord's Sister: Madam Dol

Is entertaining her. Sub. By your favour, Face,

[column break]

Now she is honest I will stand again.

  Fac. You will not offer it?   Sur.Sub. Why?
  Fac. Stand to your word,

Or — here comes Dol. She knows —

  Sub. Yo'are tyrannous still.
  Fac. Strict for my right. How now, Dol? Hast' told her,

The Spanish Count will come?

  Dol. Yes, but another is come,

You little look'd for! Fac. Who's that?

  Dol. Your Master:

The Master of the House. Sub. How, Dol!

  Fac. She lyes.

This is some trick. Come, leave your quiblins, Dorothee.

  Dol. Look out, and see.   Sub. Art thou in earnest?
  Dol. 'Slight.

Forty o' the Neighbours are about him, talking.

  Fac. 'Tis he, by this good day.
  Dol. 'Twill prove ill day,

For some on us. Fac. We are undone, and taken.

  Dol. Lost, I' am afraid.
  Sub. You said he would not come,

While there died one a Week, within the Liberties.

  Fac. No: 'twas within the Walls.
  Sub. Was't so? Cry' you mercy:

I thought the Liberties. What shall we do now, Face?

  Fac. Be silent: not a word, if he call or knock.

I'll into mine old shape again and meet him, Of Jeremy, the Butler. I' the mean time, Do you two pack up all the Goods, and purchase, That we can carry i' the two Trunks. I'll keep him Off for to day, if I cannot longer: and then At night, I'll ship you both away to Ratcliff, Where we'll meet to morrow, and there we'll share. Let Mammon's Brass and Pewter keep the Cellar: We'll have another time for that. But, Dol, 'Pr'y thee go heat a little Water quickly, Subtle must shave me. All my Captains Beard Must off, to make me appear smooth Jeremy. You'll do't? Sub. Yes, I'll shave you, as well as I can.

  Fac. And not cut my Throat, but trim me?
  Sub. You shall see, Sir.


Act V. Scene I.

Love-Wit, Neighbours.

H AS there been such resort, say you?

  Nei. 1. Daily, Sir.
  Nei. 2. And nightly, too.
  Nei. 3. I, some as brave as Lords.
  Nei. 4. Ladies, and Gentlewomen.
  Nei. 5. Citizens Wives.
  Nei. 1. And Knights.   Nei. 6. In Coaches.
  Nei. 2. Yes, and Oyster-women.
  Nei. 1. Beside other Gallants.   Nei. 3. Sailors wives.
  Nei. 4. Tabacco-men.
  Nei. 5. Another Pimlico!
  Lov. What should my Knave advance,

To draw this company? He hung out no Banners Of a strange Calf, with five Legs, to be seen? Or a huge Lobster, with six Claws? Nei. 6. No, Sir.

  Nei. 3. We had gone in then, Sir.   Lov. He has no gift

Of teaching i' the Nose, that ere I knew of. You saw no Bills set up that promis'd cure Of Agues, or the Tooth-ach? Nei. 2. No such thing, Sir.

  Lov. Nor heard a Drum strook, for Baboons, or
     Puppets?
  Nei. 5. Neither, Sir.
  Lov. What device should he bring forth now?

I love a teeming Wit as I love my nourishment. 'Pray God he ha' not kept such open House, That he hath sold my Hangings, and my Bedding: I left


232 The Alchemist.

I left him nothing else. If he have eat 'em, A Plague o' the Moath, say I. Sure he has got Some bawdy Pictures, to call all this ging; The Frier, and the Nun; or the new Motion Of the Knights Courser, covering the Parsons Mare; The Boy of six year old, with the great Thing: Or't may be, he has the Fleas that run at Tilt, Upon a Table, or some Dog to dance? When saw you him? Nei. 1. Who Sir, Jeremy?

  Nei. 2. Jeremy Butler?

We saw him not this Month. Lov. How!

  Nei. 4. Not these five weeks, Sir.
  Nei. 6. These six weeks, at the least.
  Lov. Yo' amaze me, Neighbours!
  Nei. 5. Sure, if your worship know not where he is,

He's slipt away. Nei. 6. Pray God, he be not made away. [He knocks.

  Lov. Ha? It's no time to question, then.   Nei. 6. About

Some three weeks since, I heard a doleful cry, As I sate up, a mending my Wives Stockings.

  Lov. This's strange! that none will answer!
     Didst thou hear

A cry, saist thou? Nei. 6. Yes, Sir, like unto a Man That had been strangled an hour, and could not speak.

  Nei. 2. I heard it too, just this day three weeks, at two
     a Clock

Next morning. Lov. These be Miracles, or you make 'em so! A Man an hour strangled, and could not speak, And both you heard him cry? Nei. 3. Yes, downward, Sir.

  Lov. Thou art a wise fellow: Give me thy Hand I pray thee.

What Trade art thou on?

  Nei. 3. A Smith, an't please your worship.
  Lov. A Smith? Then lend me thy help to get this
     Door open.
  Nei. 3. That I will presently, Sir, but fetch my Tools —
  Nei. 1. Sir, best to knock again, afore you break it.

Act V. Scene II.

Love-wit, Face, Neighbours.

I

Will.   Fac. What mean you, Sir?
  Nei. 1, 2, 4. O, here's Jeremy!
  Fac. Good Sir, come from the Door.
  Lov. Why! what's the matter?
  Fac. Yet farther, you are too near yet.
  Lov. I' the name of Wonder!

What means the fellow?

  Fac. The House, Sir, has been visited.
  Lov. What? with the Plague? stand thou then farther.
  Fac. No, Sir,

I had it not. Lov. Who had it then? I left None else, but thee, i'the House!

  Fac. Yes, Sir, my fellow,

The Cat, that kept the Buttry, had it on her A week before I spied it: but I got her Convey'd away, i' the night. And so I shut The House up for a month ——

  Lov. How!   Fac. Purposing then, Sir,

T' have burnt Rose-vinegar, Treacle, and Tar, And ha' made it sweet, that you should ne'er ha' known it: Because I knew the news would but afflict you, Sir.

  Lov. Breathe less, and farther off. Why, this is stranger!

The Neighbours tell me all, here, that the Doors Have still been open —— Fac. How, Sir!

  Lov. Gallants, Men, and Women,

And of all sorts, tag-rag, been seen to flock here In threaves, these ten weeks, as to a second Hogs-den, In days of Pimlico, and Eye-bright! Fac. Sir, Their wisdoms will not say so! Lov. To day, they speak Of Coaches, and Gallants; one in a French-hood, VVent in, they tell me: and another was seen In a Velvet Gown at the window! divers more Pass in and out!

[column break]

  Fac. They did pass through the Doors then,

Or Walls, I assure their Eye-sights, and their Spectacles; For here, Sir, are the Keys: and here have been, In this my Pocket, now above twenty days! And for before, I kept the Fort alone there. But that 'tis yet not deep i' the afternoon, I should believe my Neighbours had seen double Through the black-pot, and made these apparitions! For, on my faith to your worship, for these three weeks, And upwards, the Door has not been open'd.

  Lov. Strange!
  Nei. 1. Good faith, I think I saw a Coach!
  Nei. 2. And I too,

I'lld ha' been sworn! Lov. Do you but think it now? And but one Coach? Nei. 4. We cannot tell, Sir: Jeremy Is a very honest fellow. Fac. Did you see me at all?

  Nei. 1. No; that we are sure on.
  Nei. 2. I'll be sworn o'that.
  Lov. Fine Rogues to have your Testimonies built on!
  Nei. 3. Is Jeremy come?
  Nei. 1. O, yes, you mavemay leave your Tools,

We were deceiv'd, he says. Nei. 2. He has had the Keys: And the Door has been shut these three weeks.

  Nei. 3. Like enough.
  Lov. Peace, and get hence, you Changelings.
  Fac. Surly come!

And Mammon made acquainted? They'll tell all. (How shall I beat them off? What shall I do?) Nothing's more wretched than a guilty Conscience.

Act V. Scene III.

Surly, Mammon, Love-wit, Face, Neighbours, Kastril, Ananias, Tribulation, Dapper, Subtle.

N O, Sir, he was a great Physician. This

It was no Bawdy-house: but a meer Chancel.

You knew the Lord, and his Sister.

  Mam. Nay, good Surly ——
  Sur. The happy word, Be rich —
  Mam. Play not the Tyran ——
  Sur. Should be to day pronounc'd to all your Friends.

And where be your Andirons now? and your Brass-pots, That should ha' been golden Flaggons, and great Wedges?

  Mam. Let me but breathe. What! they ha' shut
     their Doors,

Methinks! Sur. I, now 'tis holy-day with them.

  Mam. Rogues,

Cozeners, Impostors, Bawds. Fac. What mean you, Sir? [Mammon and Surly knock.

  Mam. To enter, if we can.   Fac. Another Mans House?

Here is the owner, Sir. Turn you to him, And speak your business. Mam. Are you, Sir, the owner?

  Lov. Yes, Sir.
  Mam. And are those Knaves within your Cheaters?
  Lov. What Knaves? what Cheaters?
  Mam. Subtle, and his Lungs.
  Fac. The Gentleman is distracted, Sir! No Lungs,

Nor Lights ha' been seen here these three weeks, Sir, Within these Doors, upon my word! Sur. Your word, Groom arrogant? Fac. Yes, Sir, I am the House-keeper, And know the Keys ha' not been out o' my Hands.

  Sur. This's a new Face.
  Fac. You do mistake the House, Sir!

What Sign was't at? Sur. You Raskal! This is one O' the confederacy. Come, let's get Officers, And force the Door. Lov. 'Pray you stay, Gentlemen.

  Sur. No, Sir, we'll come with Warrant.
  Mam. I, and then

We shall ha' your Doors open. Lov. What means this?

  Fac. I cannot tell, Sir.
  Nei. 1. These are two o' the Gallants,

That we do think we saw. Fac. Two o' the Fools? You talk as idly as they. Good faith, Sir, I think


           The Alchemist.	233

I think the Moon has cras'd 'em all! (O me, The angry Boy come too? He'll make a noise, And ne'er away till he have betray'd us all.)

  Kas. What Rogues, Bawds, Slaves, you'll open the

[Kastril knocks.

     Door anon,

Punck, Cocatrice, my Suster. By this light I'll fetch the Marshal to you. You are a Whore, To keep your Castle —

  Fac. Who would you speak with, Sir?
  Kas. The bawdy Doctor, and the cozening Captain,

And Pus my Suster. Lov. This is something, sure!

  Fac. Upon my trust, the Doors were never open, Sir.
  Kas. I have heard all their tricks told me twice over,

By the fat Knight, and the lean Gentleman.

  Lov. Here comes another.   Fac. Ananias too?

And his Pastor? Tri. The Doors are shut against us. [They beat too at the Door.

  Ana. Come forth, you Seed of Sulphur, Sons of Fire,

Your stench it is broke forth: abomination Is in the House. Kas. I, my Suster's there. Ana. The place, It is become a Cage of unclean Birds.

  Kas. Yes, I will fetch the Scavenger, and the Constable.
  Tri. You shall do well.
  Ana. We'll joyn to weed them out.
  Kas. You will not come then? Punck, device, my
     Suster!
  Ana. Call her not Sister. She's a Harlot, verily.
  Kas. I'll raise the street.
  Lov. Good Gentlemen, a word.
  Ana. Satan avoid, and hinder not our Zeal.
  Lov. The world's turn'd Bet'lem.
  Fac. These are all broke loose,

Out of S. Kather'nes, where they use to keep The better sort of mad-folks. Nei. 1. All these Persons We saw go in and out here. Nei. 2. Yes, indeed, Sir.

  Nei. 3. These were the Parties.
  Fac. Peace, you Drunkards. Sir,

I wonder at it! Please you to give me leave To touch the Door, I'll try an' the Lock be chang'd.

  Lov. It mazes me!   Fac. Good faith, Sir, I believe

There's no such thing. 'Tis all deceptio visus. [Dapper cries out within. Would I could get him away.

  Dap. Master Captain, Master Doctor.
  Lov. Who's that?
  Fac. (Our Clerk within, that I forgot!) I know not, Sir.
  Dap. For God's sake, when will her Grace be at leisure?
  Fac. Ha!

Illusions, some Spirit o' the Air: (his Gag is melted, And now he sets out the Throat.)

  Dap. I am almost stifled ——
  Fac. (Would you were altogether.)
  Lov. 'Tis i' the House.

Ha! List. Fac. Believe it, Sir, i' the Air!

  Lov. Peace, you ——
  Dap. Mine Aunts Grace does not use me well.
  Sub. You Fool,

Peace, you'll mar all.

  Fac. Or you will else, you Rogue.
  Lov. O, is it so? Then you converse with Spirits!

Come Sir. No more o' your tricks, good Jeremy, The truth, the shortest way.

  Fac. Dismiss this Rabble, Sir.

What shall I do? I am catch'd.

  Lov. Good Neighbours,

I thank you all. You may depart. Come Sir, You know that I am an indulgent Master: And therefore conceal nothing. What's your Med'cine, To draw so many several sorts of wild fowl?

  Fac. Sir, you were wont to affect mirth and wit:

(But here's no place to talk on't i' the Street.) Give me but leave to make the best of my Fortune, And only pardon me th' abuse of your House: It's all I beg. I'll help you to a widow, In recompence, that you shall gi' me thanks for,

[column break]

VVill make you seven years younger, and a rich one. 'Tis but your putting on a Spanish Cloak. I have her within. You need not fear the House, It was not visited. Lov. But by me, who came Sooner than you expected. Fac. It is true, Sir. 'Pray you forgive me.

  Lov. Well, let's see your widow.

Act V. Scene IV.

Subtle, Dapper, Face, Dol.

H Ow! ha' you eaten your Gag?

  Dap. Yes faith, it crumbled

Away i' my Mouth.

  Sub. You ha' spoil'd all then.   Dap. No,

I hope my Aunt of Fairy will forgive me.

  Sub. Your Aunt's a gracious Lady: but in troth

You were to blame. Dap. The fume did over come me, And I did do't to stay my Stomach. 'Pray you So satisfie her Grace. Here comes the Captain.

  Fac. How now! Is his Mouth down?
  Sub. I! he has spoken!
  Fac. (A Pox, I heard him, and you too.) He's un-
     done then.

(I have been fain to say, the House is haunted With Spirits, to keep Churle back.

  Sub. And hast thou done it?
  Fac. Sure, for this night.
  Sub. Why, then triumph and sing

Of Face so famous, the precious King Of present wits. Fac. Did you not hear the coil, About the Door? Sub. Yes, and I dwindled with it.)

  Fac. Shew him his Aunt, and let him be dispatch'd:

I'll send her to you. Sub. Well Sir, your Aunt her Grace, Will give you Audience presently, on my sute, And the Captains word, that you did not eat your Gag In any contempt of her Highness.

  Dap. Not I, in troth, Sir.

[Dol like the Queen of Fairy.

  Sub. Here she is come. Down o' your Knees and
     wriggle:

She has a stately presence. Good. Yet nearer, And bid, God save you. Dap. Madam.

  Sub. And your Aunt.
  Dap. And my most gracious Aunt, God save youyour Grace.
  Dol. Nephew, we thought to have been angry with
     you:

But that sweet Face of yours hath turn'd the Tide, And made it flow with Joy, that ebb'd of Love. Arise, and touch our Velvet Gown. Sub. The Skirts, And kiss 'em. So. Dol. Let me now stroke that Head. Much, Nephew, shalt thou win; much shalt thou spend; Much shalt thou give away: much shalt thou lend.

  Sub. (I, much, indeed.) Why do you not thank her
     Grace.
  Dap. I cannot speak for joy.
  Sub. See, the kind wretch!

Your Graces Kinsman right. Dol. Give me the Bird. Here is your Fly in a Purse, about your Neck, Cousin, Wear it, and feed it about this day sev'night, On your right Wrist — Sub. Open a Vein with a Pin, And let it suck but once a week: till then, You must not look on't. Dol. No. And, Kinsman, Bear your self worthy of the Blood you come on.

  Sub. Her grace would ha' you eat no more Woolsack Pies,

Nor Dagger Frume'ty. Dol. Nor break his fast, In Heaven and Hell. Sub. She's with you every where! Nor play with Costar-mongers, at mum-chance, tray-trip. God make you rich, (when as your Aunt has done it:)

     but keep

The gallant'st Company, and the best Games —

  Dap. Yes, Sir.
  Sub. Gleek and Primero: and what you get, be true to us.

H h Dap. By


234 The Alchemist.

  Dap. By this Hand, I will.
  Sub. You may bring's a thousand Pound

Before to morrow night, (if but three thousand Be stirring) an' you will. Dap. I swear, I will then.

  Sub. Your Fly will learn you all Games.
  Fac. Ha' you done there?
  Sub. Your Grace will command him no more duties?
  Dol. No:

But come, and see me often. I may chance To leave him three or four hundred Chests of Treasure, And some twelve thousand Acres of Fairy Land, If he game well, and comely, with good Gamesters.

  Sub. There's a kind Aunt! kiss her departing part.

But you must sell your forty Mark a year, now.

  Dap. I, Sir, I mean.   Sub. Or, gi't away: Pox on't.
  Dap. I'll gi't mine Aunt. I'll go and fetch the Writings.
  Sub. 'Tis well, away.   Fac. Where's Subtle?
  Sub. Here. What news?
  Fac. Drugger is at the Door, go take his Sute,

And bid him fetch a Parson, presently: Say, he shall marry the widow. Thou shalt spend A hundred pound by the service! Now Queen Dol, Ha' you pack'd up all? Dol. Yes. 'Fac.' omitted And how do you like The Lady Pliant? Dol. A good dull innocent.

  Sub. Here's your Hieronymo's Cloke, and Hat.
  Fac. Give me 'em.
  Sub. And the Ruff too?
  Fac. Yes, I'll come to you presently.
  Sub. Now he is gone about his project Dol,

I told you of, for the widow. Dol. 'Tis direct Against our Articles. Sub. Well, we'll fit him, wench. Hast thou gull'd her of her Jewels, or her Bracelets?

  Dol. No, but I will do't.
  Sub. Soon at night, my Dolly.

When we are shipt, and all our Goods aboard, East-ward for Ratcliff; we will turn our course To Brainford, westward, if thou saist the word, And take our leaves of this ore-weening Raskal, This peremptory Face.

  Dol. Content, I' am weary of him.
  Sub. Thou'hast cause, when the slave will run a wi-
     ving, Dol,

Against the Instrument that was drawn between us.

  Dol. I'll pluck his Bird as bare as I can.
  Sub.Yes, tell her,

She must by any means address some present To th' cunning Man; make him amends for wronging His Art with her suspicion; send a Ring, Or Chain of Pearl; she will be tortur'd else Extremely in her sleep, say: and ha' strange things Come to her. Wilt thou? Dol. Yes.

  Sub. My fine flitter-mouse,

My Bird o' the night; we'll tickle it at the Pigeons, When we have all, and may unlock the Trunks, And say, this's mine, and thine; and thine and mine. [They kiss.

  Fac. What now, a billing?   Sub. Yes, a little exalted

In the good passage of our stock-affairs.

  Fac. Drugger has brought his Parson; take him in, Subtle,

And send Nab back again to wash his Face.

  Sub. I will: and shave himself?
  Fac. If you can get him.
  Dol. You are hot upon it, Face, what ere it is!
  Fac. A trick, that Dol shall spend ten pound a
     Month by.

Is he gone? Sub. The Chaplain waits you i' the Hall, Sir.

  Fac. I'll go bestow him.   Dol. He'll now marry her,
     instantly.
  Sub. He cannot, yet, he is not ready. Dear Dol,

Cozen her of all thou canst. To deceive him Is no deceit, but Justice, that would break Such an inextricable tye as ours was.

  Dol. Let me alone to fit him.
  Fac. Come, my ventures,

[column break]

You ha' packt up all? Where be the Trunks? Bring

     forth.
  Sub. Here.   Fac. Let's see 'em. Where's the mony?
  Sub. Here,

In this. Fac. Mammon's ten pound: eight score before. The Brethrens money, this. Druggers, and Dappers. What Papers that?

  Dol. The Jewel of the waiting Maids,

That stole it from her Lady, to know certain ——

  Fac. If she should have precedence of her Mistris?
  Dol. Yes.
  Fac. What Box is that?
  Sub. The Fish-wives Rings, I think:

And th' Ale-wives single money. Is't not Dol?

  Dol. Yes: and the whistle, that the Sailors Wife

Brought you to know an' her Husband were with Ward.

  Fac. We'll wet it to morrow: and our Silver-beakers,

And Tavern Cups. Where be the French Peti-coats, And Girdles, and Hangers? Sub. Here, i' the Trunk, And the Bolts of Lawn.

  Fac. Is Druggers Damask there?

And the Tabacco? Sub. Yes. Fac. Give me the Keys.

  Dol. Why you the Keys!
  Sub. No matter, Dol: because

We shall not open 'em, before he comes.

  Fac. 'Tis true, you shall not open them, indeed:

Nor have 'em forth. Do you see? Not forth, Dol.

  Dol. No!
  Fac. No, my smock-rampant. The right is, my Master

Knows all, has pardon'd me, and he will keep 'em; Doctor, 'tis true (you look) for all your Figures: I sent for him, indeed. Wherefore, good Partners, Both he, and she, be satisfied: for here Determines the Indenture tripartite, 'Twixt Subtle, Dol, and Face. All I can do Is to help you over the Wall, o' the back-side; Or lend you a Sheet to save your Velvet Gown, Dol. Here will be Officers presently; bethink you, Of some course suddainly to scape the Dock: For thither you'll come else. Hark you, Thunder. [Some knock.

  Sub. You are a precious Fiend!
  Off. Open the Door.
  Fac. Dol, I am sorry for thee i-faith. But hearst thou?

It shall go hard, but I will place thee some-where: Thou shalt ha' my Letter to Mistris Amo.

  Dol. Hang you ——
  Fac. Or Madam Cæsarean.
  Dol. Pox upon you, Rogue,

Would I had but time to beat thee. Fac. Subtle, Let's know where you set up next; I'll send you A customer, now and then, for old acquaintance: What new course ha' you? Sub. Rogue, I'll hang my self: That I may walk a greater Devil than thou, And haunt thee i' the Flock-bed, and the Buttery.

Act V. Scene V.

Love-wit, Officers, Mammon, Surly, Face, Kastril, Ananias, Tribulation, Drugger, Da. Pliant.

W Hat do you mean, my Masters?

  Mam. Open your Door,

Cheaters, Bawds, Conjurers.

  Off. Or we'll break it open.
  Lov. What Warrant have you?
  Off. Warrant enough, Sir, doubt not:

If you'll not open it. Lov. Is there an Officer, there?

  Off. Yes, two or three for failing.
  Lov. Have but patience,

And I will open it straight. Fac. Sir, ha' you done? Is it a marriage? perfect? Lov. Yes, my Brain.

  Fac. Off with your Ruff, and Cloke then; be your self, Sir.
  Sur. Down with the Door.

Kas. 'Slight,


           The Alchemist.	235
  Kas. 'Slight, ding it open.   Lov. Hold:

Hold Gentlemen, what means this violence?

  Mam. VVhere is this Colliar?
  Sur. And my Captain Face?
  Mam. These day-Owls.
  Sur. That are birding in Mens Purses.
  Mam. Madam Suppository.
  Kas. Doxey, my Sister.   Ana. Locusts

Of the foul Pit. Tri. Profane as Bel and the Dragon.

  Ana. Worse than the Grashoppers, or the Lice of Egypt.
  Lov. Good Gentlemen, hear me. Are you Officers,

And cannot stay this violence? Off. Keep the Peace.

  Lov. Gentlemen, what is the matter? Whom do you seek?
  Mam. The Chimical cozener.
  Sur. And the Captain Pander.
  Kas. The Nun my Suster.
  Mam. Madam Rabbi.   Ana. Scorpions,

And Caterpillers. Lov. Fewer at once, I pray you.

  Off. One after another, Gentlemen, I charge you,

By vertue of my staff — Ana. They are the vessels Of Pride, Lust, and the Cart. Lov. Good Zeal, lie still, A little while. Tri. Peace, Deacon Ananias.

  Lov. The House is mine here, and the Doors are open:

If there be any such Persons as you seek for, Use your authority, search on o' Gods Name. I am but newly come to Town, and finding This tumult 'bout my Door (to tell you true) It somewhat maz'd me; till my Man, here, (fearing My more displeasure) told me he had done Somewhat an insolent part, let out my House (Belike, presuming on my known aversion From any Air o' the Town, while there was Sickness) To a Doctor, and a Captain: who, what they are, Or where they be, he knows not. Mam. Are they gone? [They enter.

  Lov. You may go in and search, Sir. Here, I find

The empty Walls worse than I left 'em, smok'd, A few crack'd Pots, and Glasses, and a Fornace; The Ceiling fill'd with Poesies of the Candle: And Madam, with a Dildo, writ o' the Walls. Onely one Gentlewoman, I met here, That is within, that said she was a widow ——

  Kas. I, that's my Suster. I'll go thump her. Where
     is she?
  Lov. And should ha' married a Spanish Count, but he,

VVhen he came to't, neglected her so grosly, That I, a widower, am gone through with her.

  Sur. How! Have I lost her then?
  Lov. Were you the Don, Sir?

Good faith, now, she do's blame yo' extremely, and says You swore, and told her, you had tane the pains To dye your Beard, and umbre o'er your Face, Borrowed a Sute, and Ruff, all for her love; And then did nothing. VVhat an over-sight, And want of putting forward, Sir, was this! VVell fare an old Harquebuzier, yet, Could prime his Powder, and give fire, and hit, All in a twinckling. Mam. The whole nest are fled!

  Lov. VVhat sort of Birds were they?

[Mammon comes forth.

  Mam. A kind of Choughs,

Or thievish Daws, Sir, that have pickt my Purse Of eight-score and ten pounds, within these five weeks, Beside my first Materials; and my Goods, That lie i' the Cellar: which I am glad they ha' left. I may have home yet. Lov. Think you so Sir? Mam. I.

  Lov. By order of Law, Sir, but not otherwise.
  Mam. Not mine own stuff?
  Lov. Sir, I can take no knowledg,

That they are yours, but by publick means. If you can bring Certificate, that you were gull'd of em, Or any formal VVrit out of a Court, That you did cozen your self, I will not hold them.

  Mam. I'll rather lose 'em.   Lov. That you shall not, Sir,

[column break]

By me, in troth. Upon these terms they are yours. What should they ha' been, Sir, turn'd into Gold all?

  Mam. No.

I cannot tell. It may be they should. What then?

  Lov. What a great loss in hope have you sustain'd?
  Mam. Not I, the Commonwealth has.
  Fac. I, he would ha' built

The City new; and made a Ditch about it Of Silver, should have run with Cream from Hogsden; That every Sunday in Moor-fields, the youngkers, And tits, and tom-boys should have fed on, gratis.

  Mam. I will go mount a Turnip-cart, and preach

The end o' the world, within these two months. Surly, What! in a dream? Sur. Must I needs cheat my self, With that same foolish vice of honesty! Come let us go, and hearken out the Rogues. That Face I'll mark for mine, if e'er I meet him.

  Fac. If I can hear of him, Sir, I'll bring you word,

Unto your Lodging: for in troth, they were strangers To me, I thought 'em honest, as my self, Sir. [They come forth.

  Tri. 'Tis well, the Saints shall not lose all yet. Go,

And get some Carts — Lov. For what, my zealous Friends?

  Ana. To bear away the portion of the righteous

Out of this Den of Thieves. Lov. What is that portion?

  Ana. The Goods, sometimes the Orphans, that the
     Brethren

Bought with their Silver Pence.

  Lov. What, those i' the Cellar,

The Knight Sir Mammon claims? Ana. I do defie The wicked Mammon, so do all the Brethren. Thou prophane Man, I ask thee, with what conscience Thou canst advance that Idol against us, That have the Seal? Were not the Shillings numbred, That made the Pounds? Were not the Pounds told out, Upon the second day of the fourth week, In the eighth month, upon the Table dormant, The year of the last patience of the Saints, Six hundred and ten?

  Lov. Mine earnest vehement Botcher,

And Deacon also, I cannot dispute with you, But if you get you not away the sooner, I shall confute you with a Cudgel. Ana. Sir.

  Tri. Be patient Ananias.   Ana. I am strong,

And will stand up, well girt, against an Host, That threaten Gad in exile. Lov. I shall send you To Amsterdam to your Cellar. Ana. I will pray there, Against thy House: may Dogs defile thy Walls, And Wasps, and Hornets breed beneath thy Roof, This seat of falshood, and this cave of coz'nage.

  Lov. Another too?   Dru. Not I Sir, I am no Brother.

[Drugger enters, and he beats him away.

  Lov. Away you Harry Nicholas, do you talk?
  Fac. No, this was Abel Drugger. Good Sir, Go,

[To the Parson.

And satisfie him; tell him, all is done: He staid too long a washing of his Face. The Doctor, he shall hear of him at Westchester; And of the Captain, tell him, at Yarmouth, or Some good Port-town else, lying for a wind. If you get off the angry Child, now Sir ———

  Kas. Come on, you yew, you have match'd most

[To his Sister.

     sweetly, ha' you not?

Did not I say, I would never ha' you tupt But by a dubb'd Boy, to make you a Lady-Tom? 'Slight, you are a Mammet! O, I could touse you, now. Death, mun'you marry with a Pox? Lov. You lye, Boy; As sound as you: and I am afore-hand with you.

  Kas. Anon?
  Lov. Come, will you quarrel? I will seize you, Sirrah.

Why do you not buckle to your Tools?

  Kas. Gods light!

This is a fine old Boy, as ere I saw!

H h 2 Lov. What


236 The Alchemist.

  Lov. What, do you change your Copy, now? Proceed,

Here stands my Dove: stoop at her if you dare.

  Kas. 'Slight, I must love him! I cannot chuse, i-faith!

And I should be hang'd for't. Suster, I protest, I honour thee for this match. Lov. O, do you so, Sir?

  Kas. Yes, an' thou canst take Tabacco, and drink, old Boy,

I'll give her five hundred Pound more to her marriage, Than her own State. Lov. Fill a Pipe-full, Jeremy.

  Fac. Yes, but go in, and take it, Sir.   Lov. We will.

I will be rul'd by thee in any thing, Jeremy.

  Kas. 'Slight, thou art not hide-bound! thou art a Jovy'
     Boy!

Come let's in, I pr'y thee, and take our whiffs.

  Lov. Whiff in with your Sister, brother Boy. That
     Master

That had receiv'd such happiness by a Servant, In such a Widow, and with so much Wealth,

[column break]

Were very ungrateful, if he would not be A little indulgent to that Servants wit, And help his Fortune, though with some small strain Of his own Candor. Therefore, Gentlemen, And kind Spectators, if I have out-stript An old Mans gravity, or strict Canon, think What a young Wife, and a good Brain may do: Stretch ages truth sometimes, and crack it too. Speak for thy self, Knave. Fac. So I will, Sir. Gentlemen, My part a little fell in this last Scene, Yet 'twas decorum. And though I am clean Got off from Subtle, Surly, Mammon, Dol, Hot Ananias, Dapper, Drugger, all With whom I traded; yet I put my self On you, that are my Country: and this Pelf, Which I have got, if you do quit me, rests To feast you often, and invite new Guests.



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