THE ALCHEMIST.  
Written by BEN. JONSON.  
— Neque, me ut miretur turba, laboro:  
Contentus paucis lectoribus.  
LONDON, Printed by Thomas Snodham, for Walter Burr, and are to be sold by john Stepn, at the West-end of Paul's. 1612.   

To the Lady, most equal with virtue, and her Blood: The Grace, and Glory of women. MARY LA: WROTH.  
Madame,  
IN 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, yet, might a grateful mind be furnished against the iniquity of Fortune; except, when she failed it, it had power to impart itself? A way found out, to overcome even those, whom Fortune hath enabled to return most, since they, yet leave themseluesmore. In this assurance am I planted; and stand with those affections at this Altar, as shall no more avoid the light and witness, than they do the conscience of your virtue. If what● offer bear an acceptable odour, & hold the first strength: It is your value, thatremembers, where, when, and to whom it was kindled. Otherwise, in these times, there comes rarely forth that thing, so full of authority, of example, but by daylinesse and custom, grows less, and loses. But this, safe in your judgement (which is a SIDNEY'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 La: true honourer. Ben. jonson.   

TO THE READER.  
IF thou be'st more, thou art an Understander, and then Itrust thee. If thou art one that tak'st up, and but a Pretender, beware at what hands thou receiu'st thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in theway to be coined (then in this Age, in Poetry, especially in Plays: wherein, now, the Concupiscence of ages, and Dances so reigneth, as to run away from Nature, and be afraid of her, is the only point of art that tickles the Spectators. But how out of purpose, and place, do I name Art? when the Professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own Naturals, as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms, when they understand not the things, think to get of wittily with their Ignorance. Nay, they are esteemed the more learned, and sufficient for this, by the Multitude, through their excellent vice of judgement. For they commend Writers, as they do Fencers, or Wrestlers; who if they come in robustuously, and put for it with a great deal of violence, are received for the braver fellows: when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their Adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil, I deny not, but that these men, who always seek to do more then enough, may some time happen on some thing that is good, and great; but very seldom: And when it comes it doth not recompence the rest of their ill. It sticks out perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid, and vile about it: as lights are more discerned in a thick darkness, than a faint shadow. I speak not this, out of a hope to do good on any man, against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs, and mine, the worse would find more suffrages: because the most favour common errors. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great difference between those, that (to gain the opinion of Copy) utter all they can, how cuer unfitly; and those that use election, and a mean. For it is only the disease of the unskilful, to think rude things greater than polished: or scattered more numerous then composed.   

To my friend, Mr. Ben: jonson. upon his Alchemist.  

A Master, read in flatteries great skill,  
Could not pass truth, though he would force his will,  
By praising this too much, to get more praise  
In his Art, than you out of yours do raise.  
Nor can full truth be uttered of your worth,  
Unless you your own praises do set forth:  
None else can write so skilfully, to show  
Your praise: Ages shall pay, yet still must owe.  
All I dare say, is, you have written well,  
In what exceeding height, I dare not tell.   
George Lucy.   

The Persons of the Comedy.  
SUBTLE. 
The Alchemist.  FACE. 
The Housekeeper.  DOL: 
Common. Their Colleague.  DAPPER. 
A Clerk.  DRVGGER. 
A Tobacco-man.  LOVE-Wit. 
Master of the House.  EPICURE MAMMON. 
A Knight.  SURLY. 
A Gamester.  TRIBULATION. 
A Pastorof Amstredam.  ANANIAS. 
A Deacon there.  KASTRIL. 
The Angry Boy.  Da: PLIANT. 
His sister: A Widow.  
Neighbours.  
Officers.  
Mutes.    

THE ARGUMENT.  

T he Sickness hot, A Master quit, for fear,  
H is House in Town: and left one Servant there.  
E ace 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  
House to set up, with him they here contract,  
E ache for a share, and all begin to act.  
Much company they draw, and much abuse  
I n casting Figures, telling Fortunes, News,  
S elling of Flies, flat Bawdry, with the Stone:  
Till It, and They, and All in fume are gone.    

THE PROLOGUE.  

FOrtune, 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 ourselves but graze.  
Our Scene is LONDON, 'cause we would make known.  
No Country's mirth is better than our own.  
No Clime breeds better matter, for your Whore,  
Bawd, Squire, Impostor, many Persons more,  
Whose manners, now called Humours, feed the Stage:  
And which have still been Subject, to the rage  
Or spleen of Comic writers. Though this Pen  
Did never aim to grieve, but better Men;  
How e'er the Age, he lives in, doth endure  
The vices that she breeds, above their cure.  
But, when the wholesome remedies are sweet,  
And, in their working, Game, and Profit meet,  
He hopes to find no spirit so much diseased,  
But will, with such fair Correctives, be pleased.  
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'd think, or wish, were done;  
They are so natural follies: But so shown,  
As even the Doers may see, and yet not own.    

THE ALCHEMIST.  

ACT. 1.  

SCENE. 1.  FACE. SUBTLE. DOL Common. 
Believe'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.  DOL. 
Nay, look ye! Sovereign, General, are you Madmen?  SUB. 
O, let the wild sheep lose. I'll gum your silks  
With good strong water, an'you come.  DOL. 
Will you have  
The neighbours hear you? Will you betray all?  
Hark, I hear some body.  FAC. 
Srah.  SUB. 
I shall mar  
All that the Tailor 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 Mongrel? Who am I?  SUB. 
I'll tell you,  
Since you know not yourself.  FAC. 
Speak lower, Rogue.  SUB. 
Yes. You were once (time's not long passed) the good,  
Honest, plain, liverie-three-pound-thrum; that kept  
Your masters worships house, here, in the Friars,  
For the vacations.  FAC. 
Will you be so loud?  SUB. 
Since, by my means, translated Suburb-Captaine.  FAC. 
By your means, Doctor Dog?  SUB. 
Within man's memory,  
All this, I speak of.  FAC. 
Why, I pray you, have I  
Been countenanced by you? or you, by me?  
Do but collect, Sr. 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, Sr. at Pie-Corner,  
Taking your meal of steam in, from Cook's stalls  
Where, like the Father of Hunger, you did walk  
Piteously costive with your pinched horne-nose,  
And your complexion, of the Roman● wash,  
Stuck full of black, and melancholic worms,  
Like powder corns, shot, at th' Artillery-yard.  SUB. 
I wish, you could advance your voice, a little.  FAC. 
When you went pinned up, in the several rags,  
Yo'had raked, and picked from dungh●s, before day,  
Your feet in mouldy sippers, for your kibes,  
A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloak,  
That scarce would cover your no-buttockes.  SUB. 
So Sr.  FAC. 
When all your Alchemye, and your Algebra,  
Your Minerals, Vegetals, and Animals,  
Your Conjuring, Cozening, and your dozen of Trades  
Could not relieve your corpse, with so much linen  
Would make you tinder, but to see a fire;  
I ga'you countenance, credit for your Coals,  
Your Stills, your Glasses, your Materials,  
Built you a Furnace, drew you Customers,  
Advanced 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 Bawdry, since.  SUB. 
Yes, in your Master's house.  
You, and the Rats, here, kept possession.  
Make it not strange. I know, you were one, could keep  
The Buttery-hatch still locked, and save the chip,  
Sell the dole-beer to aquavitae men,  
The which, together with your Christmas veils,  
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 Mistress death hath broke up house.  FAC. 
You might talk softlier, Rascal.  SUB. 
No, you Scarab,  
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 ta'en thee, out of dung,  
So poor, so wretched, when no living thing  
Would keep thee company, but a Spider, or worse?  
Raised thee from brooms, and dust, and watering pots?  
Sublsmed thee, and exalted thee, and fixed thee  
I'the third region, the high 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?  
Given thee thy oaths, thy quarreling dimensions?  
Thy rules, to cheat at horse-race, cockpit, cards,  
Dice, or what ever gallant tincture, else?  
Made thee a Second, in mine own great Art?  
And have I this for thank? Doe'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 yourselves, with civil war?  SUB. 
Never been known, past Equi Clibanum,  
The heat of horse-dung, under ground, in cellars,  
Or an Alehouse, darker than deaf John's: been lost  
To all mankind, but Laundresses, and Tapsters,  
Had not I been.  DOL. 
d'ye know who hears you, Sovereign?  FAC. 
Srah—  DOL. 
Nay General, I thought you were civil.  FAC. 
I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud.  SUB. 
And hang thyself, I care not.  FAC. 
Hang thee, Collier,  
And all thy pots, and pans, in picture I will,  
Since thou hast moved me.  DOL. 
o, this'll o'erthrow all.  FAC. 
Write thee up Bawd, in Paul's; have all thy tricks  
Of cozening with a hollow coal, dust, scrape,  
Searching for things lost, with a siue, 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,  DOLI 
Are you sound?  
Ha'you your senses, Masters?  FAC. 
I will have  
A Book, but barely reckoning thy Impostures,  
Shall prove a true Phil●phers stone, to Printers.  SUB. 
Away you Trencher-Raskall.  FAC. 
Out you Dog-leech,  
The vomit of all prisons—  DOL. 
Will you be  
Your own destructions, Gentlemen?  FAC. 
Still spewed out  
For lying too heavy o'the basket.  SUB. 
Cheater.  FAC. 
Bawd.  SUB. 
Cowherd.  FAC. 
conjuror.  SUB. 
Cutpurse.  FAC. 
Witch.  DOL. 
O me.  
We are ruined lost. Ha'you no more regard  
To your reputations? Where's your judgement? 'Slight,  
Have yet, some care of me, o'your Republic.  FAC. 
Away this Brach. I'll bring thee, Rogue, within  
The Statute of Sorcery, tricesimo tertio  
Of Harry the eight: I and (perhaps) thy neck  
Within a noose, for laundring gold, and barbing.  DOL. 
You'll bring your head within a coxcomb, will you?  
And you Sr, 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 near a snarling Dogbolt o'you both.  
Ha'you together cozened all this while,  
And all the world, and shall it now be said  
You've made most courteous shift, to cousin yourselves?  
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 Blackfriars, 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 cousin 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.  DAL. 
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. 
ay, they may.  DOL. 
May, murmuring Mastiff, I, and do. God's will!  
Help me to thrattell him.  SUB. 
Dorothee, Mistress Dorothee,  
O'ds 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 & Luna: help me.  SUB. 
Would I were hanged then. I'll conform myself.  DOL. 
Will you Sr. do so then, and quickly. Swear.  SUB. 
What should I swear?  DOL. 
To leave your faction Sr.  
And labour, kindly, in the common work.  SUB. 
Let me not breath, if I meant aught, beside.  
I only used those speeches, as a spur  
To him.  DOL. 
I hope we need no spurs Sr. Doewe?  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 smiled 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 stained scarves,  
(My noble Sovereign, and worthy General)  
Ere we contribute a new cruel garter  
To his most worsted worship.  SUB. 
Royal Dol!  
Spoken like Claridiana, and thyself.  FAC. 
For which at supper, thou shalt sit in triumph,  
And not be styled ` Do● common, but Do● 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 heaven,  
The Master do not troubleus, 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 busy at his hop-yardes, 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 Lawyer's 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 reserved.  SUB. 
Enough.  FAC. 
God be w'you, Sr.  
I pray you, let him know that I was here.  
His name is Dapper. I would gladly have stayed, But—    

ACT. 1.  

SCENE. 2.  DAPPER. FACE. SUBTLE. 
Captain, I am here  FAC. 
Who's that? he's come, I think, Doctor.  
Good faith, Sr, I was going away.  DAP. 
In truth,  
I am very sorry, Captain.  FAC. 
But I thought  
Sure, I should meet you.  DAP. 
I am very glad.  
I'had a scurvy 〈◊〉, or two, to make,  
And I had lent my watch last night, to one  
That dines● to day, at the Sheriffs: and so was robbed  
Of my pastime 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, Sr. 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 Sr. Why should you wish so?  
I dare assure you, I'll not be ungrateful.  FAC. 
I cannot think you will, Sr. 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 Sr with a Foole.  FAC. 
It was a Clerk, Sr.  DAP. 
A Clerk?  FAC. 
Nay, hear me, Sr. you know the Law  
Better, I think  DAP. 
I should Sr. and the danger.  
You know I show'd the Statute to you?  FAC. 
You did so.  DAP. 
And will I tell, then? By this 〈◊〉 of flesh,  
Would it might never wright good 〈◊〉 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 returned you all my answer.  
I would do much Sr. for your love— But this  
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 he's no Chiause:  
Let that Sr. move you.  SUB. 
Pray you, forbear.  FAC. 
He has  
Four Angels, here.  SUB. 
You do me wrong good Sr.  FAC. 
Doctor, wherein? To tempt you with these spirits?  SUB. 
To tempt my art, and love, Sir, to my peril.  
Fore heaven, 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 Sr.  FAC. 
Good deeds, Sr. Doctor Dogges-mouth. 'Slight I bring you  
No cheating Clim-o'the-Cloughs, or Claribels.  
That look as big as fine, and fifty, and flush,  
And spit out secrets, like hot Custard  DAP. 
Captain.  FAC. 
Nor any melancholic under-scribe,  
Shall tell the Vicar: but, a special Gentle,  
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 Ciphring perfect,  
Will take his oath, o'the Greek Testament,  
If need be, in his pocket: and can court  
His Mistress, out of ovid.  DAP. 
Nay, dear Captain.  FAC. 
Did you not tell me, so?  DAP. 
Yes, but I'd ha'you  
Use Mr. Doctor, with some more respect.  FAC. 
Hang him proud stag, with his broad velvet head.  
But, for your sake, I'd choke ere I would change  
An article of breath, with such a Puckfist.  
Come let's be gone.  SUB. 
Pray you, le'me speak with you.  DAP. 
His worship calls you, Captain.  FAC. 
I am sorry,  
I e'er embarked myself, in such a business.  DAP. 
Nay good Sr. He did call you.  FAC. 
Will he take, then?  SUB. 
First, hear me—  FAC. 
Not a syllable, ' less you take.  SUB. 
Pray ye Sr.  FAC. 
Upon no terms, but an Assumpsit.  SUB. 
Your Humour must be law.  FAC. 
Why now Sr. talk.  
Now, I dare hear you with mine honour. Speak.  
So may this Gentleman too  SUB. 
Why Sr.  FAC. 
No whispering,  SUB. 
'Fore Heaven, you do not apprehend the loss  
You do yourself, 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 Puppit-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're 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!  
d'ye 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, me thinks.  DAP. 
No, Sir, I mean  
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. 
ay, Sir, and reason too; the ground of art.  
he's o'the only best complexion  
The Queen of Fairy loves.  FAC. 
What! is he  SUB. 
Peace.  
He'll overhear 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'd 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 borne too!  SUB. 
He hears you, man.  DAP. 
Sir, I'll not be ingrateful.  FAC. 
Faith, I have a 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 on't.  DAP. 
Believe it, and I will, Sir.  FAC. 
And you shall, Sir.  
You have heard all?  DAP. 
No, what was't? Nothing, I Sir.  FAC. 
Nothing?  DAP. 
A little, Sir.  FAC. 
Well, a rare Star  
Reigned, 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 borne with a Caule o'your head.  DAP. 
Who says so?  FAC. 
Come.  
You know it well enough, though 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 Gad, Sir,  
I'll win ten thousand pound, and send you half.  
I fac is no oath.  SUB. 
No, no, he did but jest.  FAC. 
Go too. Go, thank the Doctor. He is 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 bathed, and fumigated, first;  
Besides, the Queen of Fairy does not rise,  
Till it be noon.  FAC. 
Not, if she danced, to night.  SUB. 
And she must bless it.  FAC. 
Did you never see  
Her royal Grace, yet?  DAP. 
Whom?  FAC. 
Your Aunt of Fairy?  SUB. 
Not, since she kissed him, in the cradle, Captain,  
I can resolve you that.  FAC. 
Well, see her Grace,  
What ere it cost you, for a thing that I know.  
It will be somewhat hard to compass: But,  
How ever, see her. You are made, believe it,  
If you can see her. Her Grace is a lone woman,  
And very rich, and if she take a fancy,  
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.  SUB. 
Who's there?  
Anon. (Conduct him forth, by the back way)  
Sir, against one a Clock, prepare yourself.  
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, bathe your fingers ends; and, wash your eyes;  
To sharpen your five Senses; and, cry Hum,  
Thrice; and then Buzz, as often; and then, Come.  FAC. 
Can you remember this?  DAP. 
I warrant you.  FAC. 
Well, then, away. 'Tis, but your bestowing  
Some twenty nobles, 'mong her Grace's Servants;  
And, put on a clean shirt: You do not know  
What grace her Grace may do you in clean linen.    

ACT. 1.  

SCENE. 3.  SUBTLE. DRVGGER. FACE. 
COme in. Good wives, I pray you forbear me, now.  
Troth I can do you no good, till afternoon.  
What is your name, say you, Abel Drugger?  DRU. 
Yes, Sir.  SUB. 
A seller of Tobacco?  DRU. 
Yes, Sir.  SUB. 
‛ Vmh.  
Free of the Grocers?  DRU. 
ay, an't please you.  SUB. 
Well.  
Your business, Abel?  DRU. 
This, an't please your worship,  
I'm 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 Worship,  
Which way I should make my door, by Necromantie.  
And, where my Shelves. And, which should be for Boxes,  
And, which for Potts, I would be glad to thrive, Sir.  
And, I was wished to your Worship, by a Gentleman,  
One Captain Face, that says you know men's Planets,  
And their good Angels, and their bad.  SUB. 
I do  
If I do see'hem.  FAC. 
What! my honest Abel?  
Thou art well met, here.  DRU. 
Troth, Sir, I was speaking,  
Just, as your Worship came here, of your Worship.  
I pray you, speak for me to Mr. Doctor.  FAC. 
He shall do any thing. Doctor, do you hear?  
This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow,  
He lets me have good Tobacco, 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,  
Wrapped up in greasy leather, or pissed clouts:  
But keeps it in fine Lily-pots, that opened,  
Smell like conserve of Roses, or French Beans.  
He has his Maple block, his silver tongues,  
Winchester pipes, and fire of juniper.  
A neat, spruce-honest-fellow, and no Goldmith.  SUB. 
he's a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on.  FAC. 
Already, Sir, ha'you found it? Lo'thee Abel!  SUB. 
And, in right way toward riches.  FAC. 
Sir.  SUB. 
This Summer.  
He will be of the Clothing of his company.  
And, next spring, called to the Scarlet. Spend what he can.  FAC. 
What, and so little beard?  SUB. 
Sir, you must think,  
He may have a receipt, 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'm amused, 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 Chest-nut, or your Olive-colourd face  
Does 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 borne upon a Wednesday.  DRU. 
Yes, indeed, Sir.  SUB. 
The Thumb, in Chiromantie, we give Venus;  
The Forefinger to jove; the Midst, to Saturn;  
The Ring to Sol, the Least, to Mercury:  
Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope,  
His House of life being Libra. Which foreshowed,  
He should be a Merchant, and should trade with Balance.  FAC. 
Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?  SUB. 
There is a Ship now, coming from Ormu's,  
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. 
ay, Sir.  SUB. 
Make me your Door, then, South; your broad side, West:  
And, on the eastside of your shop, aloft,  
Write Mathlaj, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;  
Upon the North-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel,  
They are the names of those Mercurian spirits,  
That do fright flies from boxes.  DRU. 
Yes, Sir,  SUB. 
And  
Beneath your threshold, bury me a Loadstone  
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 Citie-Dames.  
You shall deal much, with Minerals.  DRU. 
Sir, I have,  
At home, already—  SUB. 
ay, I know, youhave 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 Philosopher's stone.  FAC. 
Why, how now Abel! Is this true?  DRU. 
Good Captain,  
What must I give?  FAC. 
Nay, I'll not counsel thee.  
Thou hearst, what wealth, he says, spend what thou canst,  
thouart 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 keepeed 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  
Does raise him in the world.  DRU. 
I would entreat  
Another favour of his Worship.  FAC. 
What is't, Nab?  DRU. 
But, to look over, Sir, my Almanac,  
And cross out my Ill-dayes, that I may neither  
Bargain, nor trust upon them.  FAC. 
That he shall, Nab.  
Leave it, it shall be done, against afternoon.  SUB. 
And a direction for his shelves.  FAC. 
Now, Nab?  
Art thou well pleased, Nab?  DRU. 
Thank, Sir, both your Worships.  FAC. 
Away.  
Why, now, you smoky persecuter of Nature,  
Now, do you see, that something's to be done,  
Beside your Beech-coale, and your Corrosive waters,  
Your Crosselets, Crucibles, and Cucurbites?  
You must have stuff, brought home to you, to work on?  
And, yet, you think, I am at no expense.  
In searching out these veins, then following 'em,  
Then trying'hem out. 'Fore God, my intelligence  
Costs me more money, than my share oft comes too,  
In these rare works.  SUB. 
You're pleasant, Sir. How now?    

ACT. 1.  

SCENE. 4.  FACE. DOL. SUBTLE. 
WHat says, my dainty Dolkin?  DOL. 
Yonder Fishwife  
Will not away. And there's your Giantess,  
The Bawd of Lambeth.  SUB. 
heart, I cannot speak with'hem.  DOL. 
Not, afore night, I have told'hem, in a voice,  
Through the Trunk, like one of your Familiars.  
But I have spied Sir Epicure Mammon.  SUB. 
Where?  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, talked, as he were possessed on't,  
And, now, he's dealing pieces on't, away.  
Me thinks, I see him, entering Ordinaries,  
Dispensing for the pox; and Plaguy-houses,  
Reaching his dose; Walking morefield's for Lepers;  
And offering Citizens wives Pomander Bracelets,  
As his preservative, made of the Elixir;  
Searching the spital, 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 ashamed, of her long sleep, when Art,  
Who's but a Stepdame, shall do more, than she,  
In her best love to Mankind, ever could.  
If his Dream last, he'll turn the Age, to Gold.    

ACT. 2.  

SCENE. 1.  MAMMON. SURLY. 
COme on, Sir. Now, you set your foot, on Shore  
In Novo Orb; Here's the rich Pern:  
And there within, Sir, are the golden Mines  
Great Salomon's Op●. He was sailing to't  
Three years, but we have reached 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 Specta●ssimi.  
You shall no more deal with the hollow Die,  
Or the frail Card. No more be at charge of keeping  
The Livery-punke, for my 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  
Shall thirst of satin, or the covetous hunger  
Of velvet entrails, for a rude spun cloak,  
To be displayed at Madam Augusta's, make  
The sons of Sword, and Hazard fall before  
The golden Calf, and on their knees, whole nights,  
Commit I dolatry with Wine, and Trumpet's  
Or go a feasting, after Drum and Ensign.  
No more of this. You shall start up young Viceroys,  
And have your Punks, and Punquettees, my Surly.  
And unto thee, I speak it first, Berich.  
Where is my Subtle, there? Within Hough? Sir.  WITHIN 
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 centre.  
You are not faithful, Sir. This night, I'll change  
All, that is metal, in my house, to gold.  
And, early in the morning, will I send  
To all the Plumbers, and the Peuterers,  
And buy their Tin, and Led 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 cousin me so (and I  
Giuing'hem no occasion) sure, I'll have  
A Whore, shall pisse'hem 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 its virtue,  
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 hee'is 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 ancient patriarchs afore the flood)  
But taking, once a week, on a knives point,  
The quantity of a grain of Mustard, of it:  
Become stout Marsses, and beget young Cupids.  SUR. 
The decayed Vestals of Pickt-hatch would thank you,  
That keep the fire alive, there.  MAM. 
'Tis the secret  
Of Nature, naturized against all infections,  
Cures all diseases, coming of all causes,  
A month's grief, in a day; a years, in twelve:  
And, of what age so ever, 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 Waterwork, does with water,  MAM. 
You are incredulous.  SUR. 
Faith, I have a humour,  
I would not willingly be gulled. Your Stone  
Cannot transmute me  MAM. 
Pertinax, Surly,  
Will you believe Antiquity? Records?  
I'll show you a Book, where Moses, and his Sister,  
And Solomon have written, of the Art;  
I, and a Treatise penned 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 against worms.  MAM. 
'Tis like your Irish wood  
Against Cobwebs. I have a piece of jasons fleece, too,  
Which was no other, than a Book of Alchemy,  
Writ in large sheepskin, a good fat Ram-Vellam.  
Such was Pythagora's thigh, Pandora's tub;  
And, all that fable of Medea's charms,  
The manner of our work: The Bulls, our Furnace,  
Still breathing fire; our Argent-vive, the Dragon:  
The Dragon's teeth, Mercury sublimate,  
That keeps the whiteness, hardness and the biting;  
And they are gathered, into Jason's helm,  
(Th' Alembeke) and then sowed in Mars his field,  
And, thence, sublimed so often, till they are fixed.  
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. 2.  

SCENE. 2.  MAMMON. FACE. SURLY. 
Do we succeed? Is our day come? and holds 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.  
This day, thou shalt have Ingots: and, tomorrow,  
Give Lords th'affront. Is it, my Zephyrus, right?  
Blushes the Bolts-head?  FAC 
Like a Wench with Child, Sir,  
That were, but now, discovered 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? Take  
The covering of o'Churches.  MAM. 
That's true  FAC. 
Yes.  
Let'hem stand bare, as do their Auditory,  
Or cap 'em, new, with Shingles.  MAM. 
No, good Thatch.  
Thatch will lie light, upo'the rafters Lungs.  
Lungs, I will manumit thee, from the Furnace;  
I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff,  
Lost in the embers; and repair this brain,  
Hurt with the fume o'the Metals.  FAC. 
I have blown, Sir,  
Hard for your Worship; thrown by many a Coal,  
When 'twas not Beech; weighed those I put in, just,  
To keep your heat, still even; These bleared eyes  
Have waked, to read your several colours, Sir,  
Of the pale C●ron, the green Lion, the Crow,  
The Peacock's tail, the plumed Swan.  MAM. 
And, lastly,  
Thou hast descried the Flower, the Sanguis Agni?  FAC. 
Yes Sir  MAM. 
Where's Master?  FAC. 
At's prayers, 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 Seraglios.  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.  
thouart sure, thou sawst it blood?  FAC. 
Both blood, & spirit, Sir.  MAM. 
I will have all my beds, blown up; not stuffed:  
Down is too hard. And then, mine oval Room,  
Filled with such pictures, as Tiberius took  
From Elephantis: and dull Aretine  
But coldly imitated. Then, my Glasses,  
Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse,  
And multiply the figures, as I walk  
Naked between my Succubae. My mists  
I'll have of perfume, vapor'd'bout the room,  
To lose ourselves in; and my baths, like pits  
To fall into: from whence, we will come forth,  
And roll us dry in Gossamour, and Roses.  
Is it arrived at Ruby? Where I spy  
A wealthy Citizen, or rich Lawyer,  
Have a sublimed 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. And my flatterers,  
Shall be the best, and gravest of Divines,  
That I can get for money. My mere fools,  
Eloquent Burgesses, and then my Poets  
The same that writ so subtly 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, belie  
Ladies, who'are known most innocent, for them;  
Those will I beg, to make me Eunuches of●  
And they shall fan me, with ten Ostrich Tails  
A piece, made in a plume, to gather wind.  
We will be brave, Puff, now we ha'the Medicine.  
My Meat, shall all come in, in Indian shells,  
Dishes of Agat, set in Gold, and studded  
With Emeralds, sapphires, Hjacinths, and Rubies.  
The tongues of Carp, Dormice, and Camels heels,  
Boiled i'the spirit of Sol, and dissolved Pearl,  
(Apicius diet, against the Epilepsy)  
And I will eat these broths, with spoons of Amber,  
Headed with Diamant, and Carbuncle.  
My footboy shall eat Pheasants, calvered Salmon,  
Knots, Godwits, Lampreys: I myself will have  
The beards of Barbels, served, in stead of salads;  
Oiled muhrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps  
Of a fat pregnant Sow, newly cut off,  
Dressed with an exquisite, and poignant 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 Cobwebs; and for all my other raiment  
It shall be such, as might provoke the Persian:  
Were he to teach the world riot, a new.  
My Gloves of Fishes, and Birds-skinnes, perfumed  
With Gums of Paradise, and Eastern air—  SUR. 
And d'ye 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't alone, for me, still. Here he comes,  
Not a profane word, afore him: 'Tis poison.    

ACT. 2.  

SCENE. 3.  MAMMON. SUBTLE. SURLY. FACE. 
GGod marrow, Father.  SUB. 
Gentle Son, good morrow,  
And, to your friend, there. What is he, is with you?  MAM. 
An Heretic, that I did bring along,  
In hope, Sir, to convert him.  SUB. 
Son, I doubt  
You're 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 arnall appetite.  
Take heed, you do not cause the blessing leave you,  
With your ungoverned haste. I should be sorry,  
To see my labours, now, e'en ●t perfection,  
Got by long watching, and large patience,  
Not prosper, where my Love, and Zeal hath plac'd'hem.  
Which (heaven I call to witness, with yourself,  
To whom, I have poured my thoughts) in all my ends,  
Have looked no way, but unto public good,  
To pious uses, and dear Charity  
No grown a prodigy with men. Wherein  
If you, my Son, should, now, prevaricate,  
And, to your own particular lusts, employ  
So great, and catholic a bliss; Be sure,  
A curse will follow, yea, and overtake  
Your subtle, and most secret ways.  MAM. 
I know, Sir,  
You shall not need to fear me. I but come,  
To ha'you confute this Gentleman.  SUB. 
Who is,  
Indeed, Sir, somewhat caustive of belief  
Toward your Stone. Would not be gulled.  SUB. 
Well, Son,  
All that I can convince him in, is this,  
The Work is done: Bright Sol is in his rob.  
We have a medicine of the triple Soul,  
The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven,  
And make us worthy of it. Vlen spiegle.  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 vola●le substance, and his tincture:  
And let the water in Glass E. be feltered,  
And put into the Gripes egg. Lute him, well;  
And leave him closed in Balneo.  FAC. 
I will, Sir.  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  
Sulphur 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 Colleges, 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 filter?  SUB. 
Marry, yes.  
And bring me the complexion of Glass B.  MAM. 
Ha'you another?  SUB. 
Yes Son, were I assured  
Your piety were firm, we would not want  
The means to glorify it. But I hope the best:  
I mean to tinct C. in sand-heate, tomorrow,  
And give him imbibition.  MAM. 
Of white oil?  SUB. 
No Sir ofred. F. is come over the helm too,  
I thank my Maker, in S. Mary's bath,  
And shows Lac Virgins. Blessed be heaven.  
I sent you of his faeces there, calc●'d.  
Out of that calx, I'ha'wonne the salt of Mercury.  MAM. 
By pouring on your rectefied water?  SUB. 
Yes, and reverberating in Athanor.  
How now? What colour says it?  FAC. 
The Ground black, Sir.  MAM. 
That's your crows head.  SUR. 
Your Cockscomb's, is't not?  SUB. 
No, 'Tis not perfect, would it were the Crow.  
That work wants something.  SUR. 
O, I looked for this.  
The hay is a pitching.  SUB. 
Are you sure, you loos'd'hem  
I'their own menstrue?  FAC. 
Yes, Sir, and then married'hem,  
And put'hem in a Bolts-head, nipped 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 broke,  
And what was saved, was put into the Pelican,  
And signed with Hermes seal.  SUB. 
I thinke'twas so.  
We should have a new Amalgama.  SUR. 
O, this Ferret  
Is rank as any Polecat.  SUB. 
But I care not.  
Let him e'en die; we have enough, beside,  
In embryon. H. has 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 die now, if I might council Sir,  
For lucks-sake to the rest. It is not good.  MAM. 
He says right.  SUR. 
ay, 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 cozened, Do.  MAM. 
There ' 'tis.  SUB. 
This needs not. But that you will have it, so,  
To see conclusions of all. For two  
Of our inferior 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 Philosopher's vinegar?  FAC. 
I.  SUR. 
We shall have a salad.  MAM. 
When do you make projection?  SUB. 
Son, be not hasty, I exalt our Medicine,  
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 virtue.  
As, if at first, one Ounce convert 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.  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 Gentleman, you must bear withal.  
I told you, he had no faith.  SUR. 
And little hope, Sir,  
But, much less charity, should I gull myself.  SUB. 
Why what have you observed, 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 hatched so?  SVr. 
If I should?  SUB. 
Why, I think that the greater Miracle.  
No Egg, but differs from a Chicken, more,  
Then Metals in themselves.  SUR. 
That cannot be.  
The Egg's ordained 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. 
ay, 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. 
ay, what is that?  SUB. 
Marry, we say.  MAM. 
ay, 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 common to all Metals, and all Stones.  
For, where it is forsaken of that moisture,  
And hath more dryness, it becomes a Stone;  
Where it retains more of the humid fatness,  
It turns to Sulphur, 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'er all the means.  
Nature doth, first, beget th'imperfect; then  
Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that airy,  
And oily water, Mercury is engendered;  
Sulphur 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, then Nature doth in earth.  
Beside, who doth not see, in daily practice,  
Art can beget Bees, Hornets, Beetles, Wasps,  
Out of the Carcases, and dung of Creatures;  
Yea, Scorpions, of an herb, being rightly placed.  
And these are living Creatures, far more perfect,  
And excellent, than metal.  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.  
Rather, then I'll be brayed, 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 grease with other?  
Of your Elixir, your Lac virgins,  
Your Stone, your Medicine, and your Chrysosperm,  
Your Sal, your Sulphur, and your Mercury,  
Your Oil of height, your Tree of life, your Blood,  
Your Marchesite, your Tutie, your Magnesia,  
Your Toad, your Crow, your Dragon, and your Panther,  
Your Sun, your Moon, your Firmament, your Adrop,  
Your Lato, Azoch, Zernich, Chibrit, Heautarit,  
And then your Red man, and your white 〈◊〉;  
With all your Broths, your Menstrues, and Materials,  
Of Piss, and Eggshells, women's terms, Man's blood,  
Hair o'the head, burnt Clouts, Chalk, Merds, and Clay,  
Powder of bones, scale of Iron, glass.  
And worlds of other strange Ingredients,  
Would burst a man to name.  SUB. 
And all these, named,  
Intending but one thing: which art our Writers  
Used to obscure their Art.  MAM. 
Sir, so I told him.  
Because the simple I diet should not learn it,  
And make it vulgar.  SUB. 
Was not all the knowledge  
Of the Egyptians writ in mystic 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,  
Wrapped in perplexed Allegories?  MAM. 
I urged that.  
And cleared to him, that Sisyphus was damned  
To roll the ceaseless stone, only, because  
He would have made ours common. Who is this?  SUB. 
God's precious— What do you mean? Go in, good  
Lady;  
Let me entreat you. Where's this Varlet?  FAC. 
Sir?  DOL is seen. 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 is the matter? Good Sir!  
I have not seen you thus distempered. Who is't?  SUB. 
All Arts have still had, Sir, their adversaries,  
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.  FAC. 
Stay man, what is she?  FAC. 
A Lords Sister, Sir.  MAM. 
How! Pray thee stay?  FAC. 
She's mad Sir, & sent hither—  
(He'll be mad too.  MAM. 
I warrant thee.) Why sent hither?  FAC. 
Sir, to be cured.  SUB. 
Why Rascal!  FAC. 
Lo you. Here Sir.  MAM. 
Fore-God, a Bra●●●ante, 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. he's  
Too scrupulous, that way: It is his vice.  
No, he's a rare Physician, do him right.  
An excellent Paracelsian! and has done  
Strange cures with mineral physic. He deals all  
With spirits, he, He will not hear a Word  
Of Galen, or his tedious Recipees.  
How now, Lungs!  FAC. 
Softly, Sir, speak softly. I meant  
To ha' told your Worship all. This must not hear,  MAM. 
No, he will not be gulled; let him alone.  FAC. 
You're very right. Sir, she is a most rare scholar:  
And is gone mad, with studying Broughtons' works.  
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, divers have run mad upon the Conference.  
I do not know, Sir: I am sent in haste,  
To fetch a Viale.  SUR. 
Be not gulled, 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, Zephyrus.  
One word.  FAC. 
I dare not, in good faith.  MAM. 
Stay, Knave.  FAC. 
he's extreme 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 quicksilver,  
Over the helm; and circulate, like oil;  
A very Vegetal: discourse of State,  
Of Mathematics, Bawdry, any thing—  MAM. 
Is she no way accessible? no means,  
No trick, to give a man a taste of her—  
W●t? or so?  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, loath to be gulled.  
I do not like your Philosophical bawds.  
Their Stone is lechery enough, to pay for,  
Without this bait  MAM. 
‛Hart you abuse yourself.  
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'er saw her  
Till now?  MAM. 
O yes, but I forgot. I have (believe it)  
One o'the treacherou'st memories, I do think,  
Of all mankind.  SUB. 
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 Quicksilver;  
Or the hot Sulphur.  FAC. 
Here's one from Captain Face, Sir,  
Desires you meet him i'the Temple-Church,  
Some half hour hence, and upon earnest business.  
Sir, if you please to quit us, now; and come,  
Again, within two hours: You shall have  
My Master busy 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 Attorney, and to a second purpose.  
Now, I am sure, it is a Bawdy-house;  
I'll swear it, were the Marshal here, to thankeme.  
The naming this Commander, doth confirm it.  
Don Face! Why, he's the most authentic dealer  
I'these Commodities! The superintendant  
To all the queinter traffickers, in town.  
He is their Visitor, and does appoint  
Who lies with whom; and at what hour; what price;  
Which gown; and in what smock; what fall; what tire.  
Him will I prove, by a third person, to find  
The subtleties of this dark Labyrinth:  
Which, if I do discover, dear, Sir Mammon,  
You'll give your poor Friend leave, though 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.  
Sir Epicure, I shall leave you.  MAM. 
I follow you, straight.  FAC. 
But do so, good Sir, to avoid suspicion.  
This Gentleman has a parlous head.  MAM. 
But wilt thou  
Be constant to thy promise?  FAC. 
As my life, Sir.  
〈◊〉 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 yourself 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 busy himself, about projection.  MAM. 
Thou'st witched 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 borne to make thee, my good Weasel;  
Set thee on a bench: and, ha'thee twirl a Chain  
With the best Lords Vermin, 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. 2.  

SCENE. 4.  SUBTLE. FACE. DOL. 
HAs he bit? Has he bit?  FAC. 
And swallowed too, my Subtle.  
I ha' given him line, and now he plays, I faith.  SUB. 
And shall we twitch him?  FAC. 
Through both the gills.  
A Wench is a rare bay●, with which a Man  
No soon's taken, but he strait firks mad.  SUB. 
Dol, my Lord Whachums Sister, you must now  
Bear yourself statelike.  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'spoke to him. Well,  
I must not lose my wary Gamester, yonder.  SUB. 
O Monsieur Caution, that will not be gulled?  FAC. 
ay, 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.  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. 
God's 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 of, 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 Amstredam; the exiled Saints: that hope  
To raise their discipline, by it. I must use him  
In some strange fashion, now, to make him admire me.    

ACT. 2.  

SCENE. 5.  SUBTLE. FACE. ANANIAS. 
WHere is my Drudge?  FAC. 
Sir.  SUB. 
Take away the Recipient,  
And rectify your Menstrue, from the Phlegma.  
Then pour it, ' o the Sol, in the Cucurbite,  
And let'hem 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 dulcify, calcine?  
Know you the sapor pontic? sapor stipstick?  
Or, what is Homogene, or Heterogene?  ANA. 
I understand no Heathen language, truly.  SUB. 
Heathen, you Knipper-doling? Is Arssacra,  
Or Chrysopoeia, or Spagirica,  
Or the Pamphysic, or Panarchic knowledge,  
A Heathen language?  ANA. 
Heathen Greek, I take it.  SUB. 
How? Heathen Greek?  ANA. 
All's Heathen, but the Hebrew.  SUB. 
S'rah, 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 spheres.  SUB. 
What's the proper passion of Metals?  FAC. 
Malleation.  SUB. 
What's your Vltimum 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 viscosity,  
His oleositie, and his suscitabilitie.  SUB. 
How do you sublime him?  FAC. 
With the calce of eggshells,  
White Marble, Talc.  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. 
This'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 dissolved,  
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 exiled 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 Mr. Wholesome,  
Your Teacher?  ANA. 
From Tribulation Wholesome,  
Our very zealous Pastor.  SUB. 
Good. I have  
Some Orphans goods to come here.  ANA. 
Of what kind, Sir?  SUR. 
Pewter, and Brass, Andirons, and Kitchen ware,  
Metals, that we must use our medicine on:  
Wherein the Brethren may have a pennyworth.  
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'd cousin, else,  
And, if their Parents were not of the Faithful?  
I will not trust you, now I think on't,  
Till I ha' talked 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. 
Ye have had,  
For the Instruments, as bricks, and some, and glasses,  
Already thirty pound; and, for Materials,  
They say, some ninety more: And, they have heard, since,  
That one, at Hiedelberg, made it, of an Egg  
And a small paper of Pinne-dust.  SUB. 
What's your name?  ANA 
My name is Ananias.  SUB. 
Out, the Varlet  
That cozened the Apostles! Hence, away,  
Flee Mischief; had your holy Consistory  
No name to send me, of another sound;  
Then wicked Ananias? Send your Elders,  
Hither, to make atonement for you, quickly,  
And give me satisfaction; or out goes  
The fire: and down th' Alembekes, and the Furnace.  
Piger Henricus, or what not. Thou wretch,  
Both Sericon, and Bufo, shall belost,  
Tell 'hem. All hope of rooting out the Bishops,  
Or th' Antichristian Hierarchy shall perish,  
If they stay threescore minutes. The Aqueitie,  
Terreity, and Sulphureitie  
Shall run together again, and all be annulled  
Thou wicked Ananias. This willfetch 'em,  
And make'hem hast towards their gulling more.  
A man must deal like a rough Nurse, and fright  
Those, that are froward, to an appetite.    

ACT. 2.  

SCENE. 6.  FACE. SUBTLE. DRVGGER. 
he's busy 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 ye 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. 
ay, a good lucky one, a thriving Sign, Doctor.  SUB. 
I was devising now.  FAC. 
'Slight, do not say so,  
He will repent he give you any more.  
What say you to his Constellation, Doctor?  
The Balance?  SUB. 
No, that way is stale, and Common.  
A Towns. Man, borne in Taurus, gives the Bull;  
Or the Bulls-head: In Aries, the Ram.  
A poor devise. No. I will have his Name  
Formed in some mystic character; whose radij,  
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 R●g, that's Drug:  
And, right anent him, a Dog snarling Ere;  
There's Drugger, Abel Drugger. That's his sign.  
And here's now Mystery, and Hieroglyphic.  
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. 
Sir, there is lodged hard by me  
A rich young Widow.  FAC. 
Good! a Bona roba?  DRU. 
But nineteen, at the most.  FAC. 
Very good, Abel.  DRU. 
Marry she's not in fashion, yet; she wears  
A hood: but't stands a cop.  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 physic 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 does strangely long to know her fortune.  FAC. 
God's 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  
Followed and sought: Nab, thou shalt tell her this.  
she'll be more known, more talked 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 despair, my little Nab,  
Knowing, what the Doctor has set down for thee,  
And seeing so many, o'the City, dubbed?  
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 does 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 Country.  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,  
With 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 haply may persuade. Go to.  
‛ Shalt give his Worship, a new Damask suit  
Upon the premises.  SUB. 
O good Captain.  FAC. 
He shall,  
He is the honestest fellow, Doctor. Say 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  
Why he came now. He dealt with me, in private,  
To get a medicine for 'hem.  SUB. 
And shall, Sir. This works.  FAC. 
A wife, a wife, for one on'vs, my dear Subtle:  
we'll e'en 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. 
ay, 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 Doll must ha' no breath on't.  SUB. 
Mum.  
Away, you to your Surly yonder, Catch him.  FAC. 
Pray God I ha'not stayed too long.  SUB. 
I fear it.    

ACT. 3.  

SCENE. 1.  TRIBULATION. ANANIAS. 
THese Chastisements are common to the Saints,  
And such rebukes th' Elect must bear, with patience;  
They are the exercises of the Spirit,  
And sent 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 profane person, indeed.  ANA. 
He bears  
The visible mark of the beast, in his forehead.  
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 man's 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 profane, or choleric than your Glassemen?  
More Antichristian than your Bell-founders?  
What makes the Devil so devilish, I would ask you,  
Satan, our common enemy, but his being  
Perpetually about the fire, and boiling  
Br●stone, and Arsnike? We must give, I say,  
Unto the motives, and the stirrers up  
Of humours 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 brethren's blessing of Heidelberg, weighing  
What need we have, to hasten on the Work,  
For the restoring of the silenced Saints,  
Which ne'er will be, but by the Philosopher's Stone.  
And, so a learned Elder, one of Scotland,  
Assured me; Aurum potabile being  
The only medicine, for the civil Magistrate,  
T'incline him to a feeling of the cause:  
And must be daily used, 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. 3.  

SCENE. 2.  SUBTLE. TRIBULATION. ANANIAS. 
O Are you come? 'Twas time. Your threescore minutes  
Were at the last thread, you see, And, down had gone  
Furnus acediae, Turris circulatorius,  
Lembeke, Bolts-head, Retort, and Pelican  
Had all been cinders. Wicked Ananias!  
Art thou returned? Nay then it goes down, yet.  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 qualify.  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 qualefies more.  TRI. 
And, for the Orphans goods, let them be valued,  
Or what is needful, else, to the holy Work,  
It shall be numbered: 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 discoursed so unto you, of our Stone?  
And, of the good that it shall bring your cause?  
show'd you (beside the main of hiring forces  
Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your friends,  
From the Indies, to serve you, with all their Fleet)  
That even the medicinal 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 strait: There you have made a Friend.  
Another has the Palsy, or the Dropsy,  
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,  
Though not of mind, and hath her face decayed  
Beyond all cure of painting; you restore  
With the Oil of Talck: There you have made a Friend.  
And all her friends. A Lord, that is a Leper,  
A Knight, that has the bone-ache, or a Squire  
That hath both these, you make'hem smooth, and sound,  
With a bare fricace of your medicine: Still,  
You increase your Friends.  TRI. 
ay, 'tis very pregnant.  SUB. 
And, then, the turning of this Lawyer's pewter  
To plate, at Christmas.  ANA. 
Christ-tide, I pray you.  SUB. 
Yet, Ananias?  ANA. 
I have done.  SUB. 
Or changing  
His parcel guilt, to massy Gold. You cannot  
But raise you Friends. With all, 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, ourselves, I take it.  SUB. 
You may be any thing, and leave of 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 phlegmatic people, It is your Bell.  ANA. 
Bells are profane, a tune may be religious.  SUB. 
No warning with you? Then, farewell my patience.  
'Slight, it shall down: I will not be thus tortured.  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 yourself) allow a tune, somewhere.  
Which, now, being toward 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 Bands, broke but one day,  
And say, they were forfeited, by providence.  
Nor shall you need, o'er night, to eat huge meals,  
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 linen.  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 against 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 yourselves,  
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 holy cause,  
As very notable means; and whereby, also,  
Themselves grow soon, and profitably famous.  SUB. 
O, but the Stone, all's idle to'it! nothing!  
The art of Angels, Nature's 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 'hem.  TRI. 
Peace.  ANA. 
They are Popish, all.  
I will not peace. I will not—  TRI. 
Ananias.  ANA. 
Please the profane, to grieve the godly. I may not.  SUB. 
Well, Ananias, thou shalt overcome.  TRI. 
It is an ignorant zeal, that haunts him, Sir.  
But truly, else, a very faithful Brother;  
A Butcher: 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.  
Though I desire the Brethren, too, good Gainers.  
There, they are, within. When you have viewed, & bought 'em,  
And ta'en the Inventory of what they are,  
theyare ready for projection; there's no more  
To do; Cast on the medicine: So much Silver  
As there is Tin there, so much Gold as Brass,  
I'll give 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 filled three Cars,  
Unloaded now: you shall make six millions of 'hem.  
But I must ha'more coals laid in.  TRI. 
How!  SUB. 
Another load,  
And then we ha' finished. We must now increase  
Our fire to Ignis arden's, we are passed  
Fimus equinus, Balnei, Cineris,  
And all those lenter heats. If the holy Purse  
Should, with this draft, fall low, and that the Saints  
Do need a present sum; I have trick  
To melt the Pewter, you shall buy now, instantly,  
And, with a tincture, make you as good ` Dutch collars,  
As any are in Holland  TRI. 
Can you so?  SUB. 
ay, and shall bide the third examination.  ANA. 
It will be joyful tidings to the Brethren.  SUB. 
But you must carry it, secret  TRI. 
ay, but stay  
This act of coining, is it lawful?  ANA. 
Lawful?  
We know no Magistrate Or, if we did,  
This's foreign 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't be done?  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 strait. Who is it? Face? Appear.    

ACT. 3.  

SCENE. 3.  SUBTLE. FACE. DOL. 
HOw now? Good prize?  FAC. 
Good pox. Yond costive Cheater  
Never came on.  SUB. 
How then?  FAC. 
I ha' walked the round,  
Till now, and no such thing.  SUB. 
And ha' you quit him?  FAC. 
Quit him? and 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' gulled him,  
Had been a mastery.  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 compear, and my party-baud)  
Who is come hither, private, for his Conscience,  
And brought munition with him, six great slops,  
Bigger than three Dutch Hoys, beside round trunks,  
Furnished with Pistolets, and Pieces of eight,  
Will strait be here, my Rogue, to have thy Bath  
That is the colour, and to make his battery  
Upon our Dol, our Castle, our Cinqueport,  
Our Dover Pire, our what thou wilt. Where is she?  
She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen,  
The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit,  
For she must feel his Epididimis.  
Where is the Doxy?  SUB. 
I'll send her to thee:  
And but dispatch my brace of little john Leydens,  
And come again myself.  FAC. 
Are they within then?  SUB. 
Numbering the sum.  FAC. 
How much?  SUB. 
A hundred marks, boy,  FAC. 
Why this's a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon?  
Three o' my Clerk. 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 Lo: General, how fares our Camp?  FAC. 
As, with the few, that had entrenched themselves  
Safe, by their discipline, against a world, Dol:  
And laughed, 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 Doll;  
And thou mayst make his ransom, what thou wilt,  
My Dowsabel: He shall be brought here, fettered  
With thy fair looks, before he see's thee, and thrown  
In a Downbed, 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 Blackbirds were i'the great frost,  
Or Bees are with a basin: and so hive him  
I'the Swanskin Coverlid, and cambric Sheets,  
Till he work Honey, and Wax, my little Gods-gift.  DOL. 
What is he, General.  FAC. 
An Adalantado,  
A grand, 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 Banque, my Face. I would, we knew  
Another chapman, now, would buy 'em outright.  FAC. 
'Slid, Nab shall do't, against he ha' the Widow,  
To furnish household.  SUB. 
Excellent well thought on,  
Pray God, he come.  FAC. 
I pray, he keep away  
Till our new business be overpassed.  SUB. 
But, Face,  
How cam'st thou, by this secret Don? 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 Doll,  
You must go tune your Virginal, no losing  
O'the least time. And, do you hear? good action.  
Firke like a Flounder, kiss like a Scallop, close;  
And tickle him with thy Mother-tongue. His great  
Verdugo-ship has not a jot of language:  
So much the easier to be cossined, my Dolly.  
He will come here, in a hired Coach, obscure,  
And our own Coachman, whom I have sent, as Guide,  
No creature else. Who's that?  SUB. 
It i'not he?  FAC. 
O no, not yet this hour.  SUB. 
Who is't?  DOL. 
Dapper,  
Your Clerk.  FAC. 
God's will, then, Queen of Fairy,  
On with your tire; and, Doctor, with your robes.  
Let's us dispatch him, for God's sake.  SUB. 
'Twill be long.  FAC. 
I warrant you, take but the QQ ˢ I give you,  
It shall be brief enough, 'Slight, here are more.  
Abel, and I think, the angry Boy, the Heir,  
That fame would quarrel.  SUB. 
And the Widow?  FAC. 
No,  
Not that I see. Away. O Sir, you are welcome.    

ACT. 3.  

SCENE. 4.  FACE. DAPPER. DRVGGER. KASTRIL. 
THe Doctor is within, a moving for you;  
I have had the most ado to win him to it;  
He swears, you'll be the Darling o'the Dice:  
He never heard her Highness dote, till now.  
Your Aunt has given 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!  
Hast brought the Damask? Nab. No Sir, here's Tobacco.  FAC. 
'Tis Well done. Thou'lt bring the Damasketoo?  DRU. 
Yes, here's the Gentleman, Captain, Mr. Kastrill,  
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 Kastrill, Sir?  KAS. 
ay, and the best o'the Kastrills, I'd 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, ye are but young  
About the town, that can make that a question.  KAS. 
Sir, not so young, but I have heard some speech  
Of the angry Boys, and seene'hem take Tobacco;  
And in his shop: and I can take it too.  
And I would fain be one of'hem, and go down  
And practise i'the country.  FAC. 
Sir, for the Duello,  
The Doctor, I assure you, shall inform you,  
To the least shadow of a hair: and show 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 borne, whether in a right line,  
Or a halfe-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 show you; or in circle:  
But never in diameter. The whole Town  
Study his Theorems, and dispute them, ordinarily.  
At the eating Academies.  KAS. 
But, does he teach  
Living, by the Wits, too?  FAC. 
Any thing, what ever.  
You cannot think that subtlety, but he reads it.  
He made me a Captain; I was a stark Pimp,  
Iusto'your standing, before 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. 
ay, '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. 
ay, forty thousand.  KAS. 
Are there such?  FAC. 
I Sir.  
And Gallants, yet. Here's a young Gentleman,  
Is borne to nothing, forty marks a year,  
Which I count nothing. he's to be initiated,  
And have a Fly o'the Doctor. He will win you  
By unresistible luck, within this fortnight,  
Enough to buy a Baronry. They will set him  
Upmost, at the Groom-porters, all the Christmas.  
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 linen, and the sharpest knife,  
The Partridge next his trencher: and, somewhere,  
The dainty bed, in private, with the Dainty.  
You shall ha'your Ordinaries bid for him,  
As Playhouses for a ` Poet;; and the Master  
Pray him, aloud, to name what Dish he affects,  
Which must be buttered 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. 
God'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, aforehand,  
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 admired 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 show a Perspective, where on one side  
You shall behold the faces, and the persons  
Of all sufficient young Heirs, in town,  
Whose bonds are currant for commodity;  
On th'other side, the Merchant's 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 delivered, be it Pepper, Soap,  
hops, or Tobacco, Otemeale, Woad, or Cheeses.  
All which you may so handle, to enjoy,  
To your own use, and never stand obliged.  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 too far, and near, all over England  
To have his counsel, and to know their Fortunes.  KAS. 
God's will, my Sister 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'er at Tavern,  
But once in's life.  DRU. 
Truth, and no more I was not.  FAC. 
And, than 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 stomach—  FAC. 
And he has no head  
To bear any Wine; for, what with the noise o'the Fiddlers,  
And care of his shop, for he dares keep no Servants—  DRU. 
My head did so ache—  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 Seacoale-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. 
ay, that was with the grief  
Thou tookst for b●ing seast at eighteen pence,  
For the waterwork  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 spite  FAC. 
Nay, so says the Doctor.  KAS. 
Pray thee Tobacco-Boy, Go fetch my Sister,  
I'll see this learned Boy, before I go:  
And so shall ●he.  FAC. 
Sir, he is bu●e now:  
But, if you have a Sister to fetch 〈◊〉,  
Perhaps, your own pains may command her sooner;  
And he, by that time, will be free.  〈◊〉. 
I go, Sir.  FAC. 
Drugger, she's thine; the Damask. Subtle, and I  
Must wrestle for her. Come on, Mr. Dapper.  
You see, how I turn Clients, here, away,  
To give your cause dispatch. Ha'you performed  
The ceremonies were enjoined 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 a fire  
But that she will not show it, t'have a sight on you.  
Ha' you provided for her Grace's Servants?  DAP. 
Yes here are sixscore Edward shillings.  FAC 
Good.  DAP. 
And an old Harry's Sovereign.  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 mary's.  FAC 
I those same  
Are best of all. Where are they? Hark, the Doctor.    

ACT. 3.  

SCENE. 5.  SUBTLE. FACE. DAPPER. DOL. 
IS yet her Grace's Cousin come?  FAC. 
He is come.  SUB. 
And is he fasting?  FAC. 
Yes.  SUB. 
And hath cried 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 Cousin,  
Hoping, that he hath vinegard his senses,  
As he was bid, the Fairy Queen dispenses,  
By me, this rob, the Petticoat of Fortune;  
Which that he strait 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 rend;  
And prays him, for a scarf, he now will wear it  
(With as much love, as than her Grace did tear it)  
About his eyes to show, 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 Grace's 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.  DAP. 
Truly there's all  FAC. 
All what?  DAP. 
My money, truly.  FAC. 
Keep nothing, that is transitory, about you,  
Bid 〈◊〉 play music. Look, the 〈◊〉 are come  
To pinch you, if you tell not truth. Advise you.  DAP. 
O, I have a paper with a Spur-riall 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 other pocket?  SUB. 
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 Grace's Nephew.  
Ti ti ti? What care you? Good faith, you shall care.  
Deal plainly, Sir, and shame the Fairies. Show  
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, sing she forsook me.  FAC. 
I thought, 'twas something. And, would you incur  
Your Aunt's displeasure for these trifles? Come  
I had rather you had thrown away twenty halfe-crownes.  
You may wear your leaden Heart still. How now?  SUB. 
What news, Dol?  DOL. 
Yonder's your Knight, Sir Mammon.  FAC. 
God's lid, We never thought of him, till now.  
Where is he?  DOL. 
Here, hard by. he's at the door.  SUB. 
And, you are not ready, now? Dol, get his suit.  
He must not be sent back.  FAC. 
O by no means.  
What shall we do with this same Puffin, here,  
Now he's o'the Spit?  SUB. 
Why lay him back a while,  
With some devise, Ti, ti ti, ti ti ti. Would her Grace speak with me?  
I come. Help Dol.  FAC. 
Who's there? Sir Epicure;  
My Master's i'the way. Please you to walk  
Three or four turns, but till his back be turned,  
And I am for you. Quickly, Dol.  SUB. 
Her Grace  
Commends her kindly to you, Mr. Dapper.  DAP. 
I long to see her Grace.  SUB. 
She, now, is set  
At Dinner, in her bed; and she 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 loose  
All we ha' done.  SUB. 
He must nor see, nor speak  
To any body, till then.  FAC. 
For that, we'll put Sir,  
A stay in ' is mouth.  SUB. 
Of what?  FAC. 
Of Gingerbread.  
Make you it fit. He that hath pleased her Grace,  
Thus far, shall not now crinckle, 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 show you Fortunes privy lodgings.  FAC. 
Are they perfumed? and his bath ready?  SUB. 
All.  
Only the Fumigation's somewhat strong.  FAC. 
Sir Epicure,, I am yours, Sir, by and by.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 1.  FACE. MAMMON. DOL. 
O Sir, youare come i'the only, finest time—  MAM. 
Where's Master?  FAC. 
Now preparing for projection, Sir.  
Your stuff will b' all changed 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, on you,  
Touching your bounty & 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,  
Against the least act of sin. Physic, or Mathematics,  
Poetry, State, or bawdry (as I told you)  
She will endure and never startle; But  
No word of controversy.  MAM. 
I am schooled, good Lungs.  FAC. 
And you must praise her House, remember that,  
And her Nobs  MAM. 
Let me, alone:  
No He●ld, no nor Antiquary, Lungs,  
Shall do it better. Go  FAC. 
Why this is yet  
A kind of 〈◊〉, to have  
Dol●ommon for a great Lady.  MAM. 
Now, Epicure,  
Heighten thyself, talk to her, all in Gold;  
Rain her as many showers as jove did drops  
Unto his 〈◊〉,: Show the God a Miser,  
Compa'rd 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 Ladyship.  MAM. 
Madame, 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?  DOL. 
My Lord, my Brother is, though I no Lady, Sir.  FAC. 
Well said my Guiny- 〈◊〉  MAM. 
Right noble Madam—  FAC. 
O, we shall have most fierce Idolatry!  MAM. 
'Tis your prerogative.  DOL. 
Rather your Courtesy.  MAM. 
Were there nought else t'enlarge your virtues, to me,  
These answers speak your breeding, and your blood.  DOL. 
Blood we boast none, Sir, a poor Baron's Daughter.  MAM. 
Poor, and got you? Profane not, had your Father  
Slept all the happy remnant of his life  
After that act, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 but there still, and panted,  
H'had done enough to make himself, his issue,  
And his posterity noble  DOL. 
Sir, although  
We may besaid to 〈◊〉 the guilt, and trappings,  
The 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉; yet we strive to keep.  
The ●eedes, and the 〈◊〉.  MAM. 
I do see  
The old 〈◊〉, Virtue, was not lost,  
Nor the Drug, Money, used to make your compound.  
There is a strange Nobility, i'your eye;  
This lip, that chin. Me thinks you do resemble  
One o'the Austrian Princes.  FAC. 
Very like,  
Her Father was an Irish Costermonger.  MAM. 
The house of Valois, just, had such a Nose;  
And such a Forehead, yet, the Medic●  
Of Floren● boast.  DOL. 
Troth, and I have been likened  
To all these Princes.  FAC. 
I'll be sworn, I heard it.  MAM. 
I know not, how; It is not any one,  
Butee'n the very choice of all their features.  FAC. 
I'll in, and laugh.  MAM 
A certain touch, or air,  
That 〈◊〉 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 in'is sweet flame:  
The Phoe●x 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. 
Na● Oaths are made o'the same air, Sir.  MAM. 
Nature  
Never bestowed upon mortality,  
A more unblamed, a more harmonious feature:  
She played the Stepdame 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  
Ye are lodged, here, i'the house of a rare man,  
An excellent Artist; But, what's that to you?  DOL. 
Yes, Sir. I study here the Mathematiques,  
And distillation.  MAM. 
O, I cry your pardon.  
he's a Divine Instructor, can extract  
The souls of all things, by his art, call all  
The virtues, and the miracles of the Sun,  
Into a temperate furnace: teach dull Nature  
What her own forces are. A man, the Emperor  
Has courted, above Kelley: sent his medals,  
And chains, t'invite him.  DOL. 
ay, and for his Physic, Sir.  MAM. 
Above the art of Aesculapius,  
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 mould,  
A Cloister, had done well: but, such a feature  
That might stand up the Glory of a Kingdom  
To live recluse? is a mere solecism,  
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,  
Then i'the quarry?  DOL. 
Yes.  MAM. 
Why you are like it.  
You were created, Lady, for light.  
Hear, 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, of 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 jealousy.  
I am the Lord, of the Philosopher's 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 pleased, Sir,  
To work on the ambition of our sex.  MAM. 
I'm pleased, the Glory of her sex should know,  
This nook, here, of the Friars, is no climate  
For her, to live obscurely in, to learn  
Physic and Surgery, for the Constable's wife  
Of some odd Hundred in Essex; but come forth,  
And taste the air of Palaces, eat, drink  
The toils of Empirics, and their boasted practice:  
Tincture of Pearl, and Coral, Gold, and Amber;  
Be seen at Feasts, and Triumphs; have it asked,  
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 mentioned,  
Queens may look pale: and, we, but showing our love,  
Nero's Poppaea 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 seize  
You, and your Stone, it being a wealth unfit  
For any private subject  MAM. 
If he knew it.  DOL. 
Yourself 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 loathed prison,  
By speaking of it.  MAM. 
'Tis no idle fear.  
we'll therefore go with all, my Girl, and live  
In a free State, where we will eat our Mullets,  
Soused in high-countrey Wines, sup Pheasants eggs,  
And have our Cockles, boiled in Silver shells,  
Our Shrimps to swim again as when they lived,  
In a rare butter, made of Dolphin's milk,  
Whose cream does look like opals: And, with these  
Delicate meats, set ourselves 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 thyself,  
And vary oftener, for thy pride, than she:  
Or Act, her wise, and almost-aequall servant.  FAC. 
Sir, you are too loud. I hear you, every word,  
Into the Laboratory: 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 'hem.  FAC. 
O, it is well, Sir. Subtle—    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 2.  FACE. SUBTLE. KASTRIL. DAME PLIANT. 
DOst thou not laugh?  SUB. 
Yes. Are they gone?  FAC. 
All's clear.  SUB. 
The Widow is come.  FAC. 
And your quarreling 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 ha'the first kiss, 'cause I am not ready.  SUB. 
Yes, and perhaps hit you through 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 strait.  
But Mr. Doctor, his Lieutenant, is here.  SUB. 
Come near, my Worshipful Boy, my Terre Fili,  
That is, my Boy of Land; Make thy approaches:  
Welcome, I know thy lusts, and thy desires,  
And I will serve, and satisfy 'hem. Begin.  
Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this line;  
Here is my Centre: Ground thy Quarrel.  KAS. 
You lie.  SUB. 
How, Child of wrath, and anger! The loud lie?  
For what, my so deign Boy?  KAS. 
Nay, that look you too;  
I am aforehand.  SUB. 
O, this's no true Grammar,  
And as ill Logic. 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, 〈◊〉, formal, final,  
And ha' your elements perfect.  KAS. 
What is this  
The angry tongue he talks in?  SUB. 
That false precept,  
Of being aforehand, has deceived a number;  
And made 'em enter Quarrels, oftentimes,  
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,  
My soft, and buxom Widow.  KAS. 
Is she, i'faith?  SUB. 
Yes, or my art is an egregio is liar.  KAS. 
How know you?  SUB. 
By inspection, on her forehead;  
An● subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted  
Often, to make a judgement 'Slight, she melts  
Like a Myrobalane! Here is, yet, a line  
In 〈◊〉 frontis, tells me, he is no Knight.  PLI. 
What is he then, Sir?  SUB. 
Let me see your Hand.  
O, your Linea Fortunae makes it plain;  
And 〈◊〉, here, in Monte veneris:  
But, most of all, Iactura 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 other rare man. 'Save you Captain.  FAC 
Good Mr. Kastril. Is this your Sister?  KAS. 
I Sir.  
Please you to kiss her, and be proud to know her?  FAC. 
I shall be proud to know you, Lady.  PLI. 
Brother,  
He calls me Lady, too.  KAS. 
ay, peace. ay, 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'hem up, and shew'hem  
Some Fustian Book, or the Dark Glass.  FAC. 
'Fore God,  
She is a delicate Dab chick! I must have her.  SUB. 
Must, you? ay, 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 show you both the Grammar, and Logic,  
And 〈◊〉 of quarreling, my whole method,  
Drawn out in Tables, and my Instrument,  
That hath the several Sca●e upon't, shall make you  
Able to quarrel, at a straws breadth, by Moonlight.  
And, Lady, I'll have you look in a Glass,  
Some half an hour, but to clear your eyesight,  
Against you see your Fortune, which is greater,  
Than I may judge upon the sudden, trust me.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 3.  FACE. SUBTLE. SURLY. 
WHere 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 disposed 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?  
'Sblood, I will serve her with thee, for a—  FAC. 
Nay,  
But understand: I'll give you composition.  SUB. 
I will not treat with thee: what, sell my Fortune?  
'Tis better than my Birthright. 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 overlook us like a Tyrant.  
Brain of a Tailor! Who comes here? Don Ion●  SUR. 
Sennores, beso las manos, à vuestras mercedes.  SUB. 
Would you had stooped a little, and kissed our an●s.  FAC. 
Peace Subtle.  SUB. 
Stab me; I shall never hold, man.  
He looks in that deep Ruff, like a Head in a platter,  
Served in by a short Cloak upon two tressils.  FAC. 
Or, what do you say to a Collar of Brawn, cut down  
Beneath the sauce, 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'alua's time: Count Egmont's Bastard.  SUB. 
Don,  
Your scurvy, yellow Madril 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 cousin you in. Do you mark? you shall  
Be cozened, Diego.  FAC. 
Cozened, do you see?  
My worthy Donzel, Cozened.  SUR. 
Entiendo.  SUB. 
Do you intent it? So do we dear Don.  
Have you brought Pistolets? or Portague?  
My solemn Don? Dost thou feel any?  FAC. 
Full.  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 Sennorà?  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?  SUB. 
For what?  FAC. 
Why, Dol's employed, 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, Hee'li suspect it.  
And then he will not pay, not half so well.  
This is a travelled Punque-Master, and does 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 her mosa, q● 〈◊〉 tan  
à ver la, como la bien 〈◊〉 de mi vida,  FAC. 
Mi vida? 'Slid, Subtle, he puts me in mind o'the Widow.  
What dost thou say to draw her 〈◊〉 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 Maiden head, to be feared, or lost.  
What dost thou think on't, 〈◊〉?  SUB. 
Who I? Why—  FAC. 
The Credit of our house 〈◊〉 is engaged.  SUB. 
You made me an offer for my share ere while.  
What wilt thou gi 〈◊〉?  FAC. 
O, by that light,  
I'll not buy now. You know your doom to me.  
Even 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. 
〈◊〉, per que se tàrdatànta?  SUB. 
Faith, I am not fit, I am old.  FAC. 
That's now no reason, Sir.  SUR. 
Puede, ser, de hazer burla de miamor.  FAC. 
You hear the Don, too? By this air, I call,  
And lose the hinges. ●ol.  SUB. 
A plague of Hell—  FAC. 
Will you then do?  SUB. 
Ye are a terrible Rogue,  
I'll think of this: will you, Sir, call the Widow?  FAC. 
Yes And 'llle take her too, with all her faults,  
Now, I do think on't better.  SUB. 
With all my heart, Sir.  
Am I discharged 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 〈◊〉 barbas.  SUB. 
He swears by his beard.  
Dispatch, and call the Brother too.  SUR. 
Tiengo dùd●, Sennores,  
Que no me hágan algunatraycion.  SUB. 
How, Issue on? Yes, praesto Sennor. Please you  
Entratha the 〈◊〉, worthy Don;  
Where if it please the Fates, in your B●thada,  
You shall be soaked, and stroked, and tubed, and rubbed,  
And scrubbed, and fubbed, dear Don, before you go.  
You shall in faith, my sciruie Baboon Don;  
Be curried, clawed, and flawed, and tawed, indeed.  
I will the heartilier go about it now,  
And make the Widow a Punk, so much the sooner,  
To be revenged on this impetuous Face:  
The quickly doing of it is the grace.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 4.  FACE. KASTRIL. Da: PLIANT. SUBTLE. SURLY. 
COme 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?  FAC. 
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.  FAC. 
Ask from your Courtier, to your Inns of Courtman,  
To your mere Milliner; They will tell you all  
Your Spanish jennet is the best Horse. Your Spanish  
Stoop is the best Garb. Your Spanish Beard  
Is the best Cut. Your Spanish ruffs are the best  
Wear. Your Span 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the best Dance.  
Your Spanish 〈◊〉 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 honoured 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 ha 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 〈◊〉.  SUB. 
No?  PLI 
Never, sin eighty e●t could I abide'hem.  
And that was some three year afore I was borne in truth.  SUB. 
Come, you must love him, or be miserable:  
Choose, which you will.  FAC. 
By this good rush, persuade her,  
She will cry strawberry else, within this twelvemonth.  SUB. 
Nay, Shads, and Mackrell, which is worse.  FAC. 
Indeed, Sir?  KAS. 
God's 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 maul you.  FAC. 
Nay good Sir.  
Be not so fierce.  SUB. 
No my enraged Child,  
She will be ruled. What when she comes to taste  
The pleasures of a Countess, to be courted—  FAC. 
And kissed, and ruffled—  SUB. 
ay, 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, then at their prayers—  SUB. 
Is served  
Upon the knee—  FAC. 
And has her Pages, Ushers.  
Footmen, & Coaches—  SUB. 
Her six Mares—  FAC. 
Nay eight—  SUB. 
To hurry her through London, to th' Exchange,  
Bedlam, the China-Houses—  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.  SUR. 
Que es èsto Senores, que non seve●ga?  
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 todos los dioses, la mas acabada  
Hermosùra, que he visto en miuìda!  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 Court-liest language.  FAC. 
List Sir.  SUR. 
El Solha perdido su lumbre, con el  
Resplandor, que tràe esta dama. Valga me dios!  FAC. 
He ' admires your Sister.  KAS. 
Must not she make curtsy?  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 tàrda?  KAS. 
Nay, see: she will notunderstand him. Gull.  
Noddy.  PLI. 
What say you Brother?  KAS. 
Ass, my Sister,  
Go kiss 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 indignaesta  
Alle gar àtànta 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 seruida, 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 quarreling 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. 
ay, I knew that, at first.  
This match will advance the House of the Kestrels.  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 guessed it.  
Come, let's go practise.  KAS. 
Yes, but do you think, Doctor.  
I e'er shall quarrel well?  SUB. 
I warrant you.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 5.  DOL. MAMMON. FACE. SUBTLE. 
FOr after Alexander's death—  MAM. 
Good Lady—  DOL. 
That Perdiccas and Antigonus were slain,  
The two that stood, Seleuc ', and Ptolomee—  MAM. 
Madame.  DOL. 
Made up the two legs, and the fourth Beast.  
That was Gog-North, and Egypt-South: which after  
Was called 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 Aegypt-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, & 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  
Shall see the ancient used 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 voices, 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 profane Greek, to raise the building up  
Of Helen's house, against the Ismaelite,  
King of Thogarma, and his Habergions  
Brimstony, blue, and fiery; and the force  
Of King Abaddon, & 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  
Of a fifth Monarchy I would erect,  
Which the Philosopher's stone (by chance) And  
Falls on the other four strait.  FAC. 
Out of 〈◊〉  
I told you so. 'Slid stop her mouth.  MAM 
Is't  FAC. 
She'll never leave else. If the old man hea  
We are but feceses, Ashes.  SUB. 
What's to do  FAC. 
O, we are lost. Now she hears him, she 〈◊〉  MAM. 
Where shall I hide me?  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 lived too long.  MAM. 
Nay good, dear Father,  
There was no'vnchast purpose.  SUB. 
Not, and flee me,  
When I come in?  MAM. 
That was my Error.  SUB. 
Error?  
Gild, 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 gone back this half hour:  
And all the rest of our less Works stand still.  
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, than I wonder less, if you, for whom  
The blessing was prepared, would so tempt heaven:  
And lose your fortunes.  MAM. 
Why Sir?  SUB. 
This will hinder  
The Work, a Month at least.  MAM. 
Why, if it do,  
What remedy? but think it not, good Father:  
Our purposes were honest.  SUB. 
As they were,  
So the reward will prove. How now! Ay me.  
God, and all Saints be good to us. What's that?  FAC. 
O Sir, we are defeated: all the Works  
Are flown in fumo. Every Glass is burst.  
Furnace, and all rend down: as if a Bolt  
Of thunder had been driven through the house.  
Retorts, Receivers, Pelicans, Bolt-heads,  
All struck in shivers. Help good Sir. Alas,  
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.  
Who's there? My Lord her Brother is come.  MAM. 
Ha, Lungs?  FAC. 
His Coach is at the door. Avoid his sight,  
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? Will nothing be preserved,  
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 punished.  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 cursed fruits of vice, and lust!  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 Tragedy.  MAM. 
I'll go.  FAC. 
ay, and repent at home, Sir. It may be,  
For some good penance, you may ha' it, yet  
A hundred pound to the Box at Bedlam.  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. 
Will nought be saved, that's good for medicine, thinkst thou?  FAC. 
I cannot tell Sir. There will be, perhaps,  
Something, about the scraping of the Shards,  
Will cure the Itch, though not your itch of mind, Sir.  
It shall be saved 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 hoped for, were in his blood.  
Let us be light, though.  SUB. 
ay, 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: She 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.  
Will you go fetch Don Diego off the while?  SUB. 
And fetch him over too, if you'll be pleased Sir:  
Would Dol were, in her place, to pick his pockets now.  FAC. 
Why you can do it as well, if you would set to't.  
I pray you prove your virtue.  SUB. 
For your sake, Sir.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 6.  SURLY. Da: PLIANT. SUBTLE. FACE. 
LAdy, you see into what hands, you are fallen;  
'mongst what a Nest of villains! and how near  
Your honour was t'have catched a certain clap  
(Through your credulity) had I but been  
So punctually forward, as Place. Time,  
And other circumstance would ha' made a man.  
For ye are a handsome woman: would ye were wise, too.  
I am a Gentleman, come here disguised,  
Only to find the Knaveries of this Citadel,  
And where I might have wronged your honour, and have not,  
I claim some interest in your love. You are,  
They say, a Widow, rich: and I am a Bateheler,  
Worth nought. Your fortunes may make me a man,  
As mine ha' preserved you a woman. Think upon it,  
And whether, I have deserved you, or no.  PLI. 
I will, Sir.  SUR. 
And for these Household-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?  
Donzell, me thinks you look melancholic,  
After your Coitum, and scurvy! Truly,  
I do not like the dullness of your eye:  
It hath a heavy cast, 'tis upsee Dutch,  
And says you are a lumpish Whoremaster.  
Be lighter, I will make your pockets so.  SUR. 
Will you, Don Bawd, and Pickpurse? How now? Reel you?  
Stand up Sir, you shall find since I am so heavy,  
I'll give 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-Baud, all Rascal.  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 learned t' anoint your boot with Brimstone,  
Then rub men's Gold on't, for a kind of touch,  
And say 'twas nought, when you had changed the colour,  
That you might have't for nothing. And this Doctor,  
Your sooty, smoaky-bearded compear, He  
Will close you so much Gold, in a Bolts-head,  
And, on a turn, convey (i'the stead) another  
With sublimed 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 Ephemerideses,  
And holds intelligence, with all the Bawds,  
And Midwives of three Shires. While you send in—  
Captain, (what is he gone?) Dam'sells with child,  
Wives, that are barren, or, the waiting-Maide  
With the Green-sickness. Nay Sir, you must tarry  
Though he be 'scaped; and answer, by the ears, Sir.    

ACT. 4.  

SCENE. 7.  FACE. KASTRIL. SURLY, SUBTLE. DRVGGER. ANANIAS. Da: PLIANT. DOL. 
WHy, now's the time, if ever you will quarrel  
Well (as they say) and be a trueborn Child.  
The Doctor, and your Sister both are abused.  KAS. 
Where is he? Which is he? He is a Slave  
What ere he is, and the Son of a Whore. Are you  
The Man, Sir, I would know?  SUR. 
I should be loath, Sir,  
To confess so much.  KAS. 
Then you lie, i' your throat.  SUR. 
How?  FAC. 
A very errant Rogue, Sir, and a Cheater,  
Employed here, by another conjuror,  
That does not love the Doctor, and would cross him  
If he knew how—  SUR. 
Sir you are abused.  KAS. 
You lie,  
And 'tis no matter.  FAC. 
Well said, Sir. He is  
The impudentest Rascal—  SUR. 
You are indeed. Will 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. 
ay,  
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' cozened thee o'the Widow.  
He owes this honest Drugger, here, seven pound,  
He has had on him, in two-peny'orths of Tobacco.  DRU. 
Yes Sir. And he hath damned 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 villainy!  FAC. 
Nay, Sir you must quarrel him out o'the house.  KAS. 
I will.  
Sir, if you get not out o' doors, you lie,  
And you are a Pimp.  SUR. 
Why this is madness, Sir,  
Not valour in you: I must laugh at this.  KAS. 
It is my humour: you are a Pimp, and a Trig,  
And an Amadis de Gaul, or a Don Quixote.  DRU. 
Or a Knight o'the curious coxcomb. Do you see?  ANA. 
Peace to the Household.  KAS. 
I'll keep peace, for no man.  ANA. 
Casting of collars 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 profane,  
Lewd, superstitious, and idolatrous Breeches.  SUR. 
New Rascals!  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 and 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 determined, that thou shouldst ha' come,  
In a Spanish suit, and ha' carried her so; and he  
A Brokerly slave, goes, puts it on himself.  
Hast brought the Damask?  DRU. 
Yes Sir.  FAC. 
Thou must borrow,  
A Spanish suit. Hast thou no credit with the Players?  DRU. 
Yes Sir, did you never see me play the Pool?  FAC. 
I know not Nab. Thou shalt, if I can help it.  
Hieronimo's old Cloak, Ruff, and Hat will serve:  
I'll tell thee more, when thou bringst 'hem.  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 revealed no less, to them, than me,  
That casting of Money is most lawful.  SUB. 
True.  
But here, I cannot do it; if the House  
Should chance to be suspected, all would out.  
And we be locked 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 collars,  
Presently, out of hand. And so, I told him,  
A Spanish Minister came here to spy  
Against the Faithful—  FAC. 
I conceive. Come Subtle,  
Thou art so down upon the least disaster!  
How wouldst though ha' done, if I had not helped thee out?  SUB. 
I thank thee Face, for the Angry Boy, i faith.  FAC. 
Who would ha'lookt, it should ha'been that Rascal?  
Surly? He had died his beard, and all. Well, Sir,  
Here's Damask come, to make you a suit.  SUB, 
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,  
Now she is honest, I will stand again.  FAC. 
You will not offer it?  SUB. 
Why?  FAC. 
Stand to your word,  
Or— Here comes Dol. She knows—  SUB. 
Ye 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 looked for.  FAC. 
Who's that?  DOL. 
Your Master:  
The Master of the House.  SUB. 
How Dol?  FAC. 
She lies.  
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 proveill 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 then we'll share.  
Let Mammon's Brass, and Pewter keep the Cellar:  
we'll have another time for that. But, Dol,  
Pray 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. 5.  

SCENE. 1.  LOVE-WIT. NEIGHBOURS. 
HAs there been such resort, say you?  NEI. 1. 
Daily, Sir.  NEI. 2. 
And nightly, too.  NEI. 3. 
ay, some as brave as Lords.  NEI. 4. 
Ladies, & Gentlewomen.  NEI. 5. 
Citizen's 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. 
Tobacco-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 Lobstar, 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 promised cure  
Of Agues, or the Toothache?  NEI. 2. 
No such thing, Sir.  LOV. 
Nor heard a Drum struck, for Baboons, or Puppets?  NEI. 5 
Neither Sir.  LOV. 
What devise 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 him nothing else. If he have eat 'em,  
A plague o' the Moth, say I. Sure he has got  
Some bawdy Pictures, to call all this Ging;  
The Friar, and the Nun; or the new Motion  
Of the Knight's Courser, covering the Parson's Mare;  
The Boy of six year old, with the great thing:  
Or't may be, he has the fleas that run at ●ilt,  
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 mont'h.  LOV. 
How!  NEI. 4. 
Not these five weeks, Sir.  NEI. 
These six weeks, at the least.  LOV. 
Ye amaze me, Neighbours.  NEI. 5. 
Sure, if your Worship know not where he is,  
he's flipt away.  NEI. 6. 
Pray God, he be not made away.  LOV. 
Ha? It's no time to question, then.  NEI. 6. 
About  
Some three weeks since, I heard a doleful cry,  
As I sat up, a mending my wives stockings.  LOV. 
This's strange! that none will answer! Didst thou hear  
A cry, sayst 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. .5  

SCENE. 2.  LOVE-Wit. FACE. NEIGHBOURS. 
I Will.  FAC. 
What mean you Sir?  NEI. 1.2.4. 
O, Here's 〈◊〉  FAC. 
Good Sir, Come from the door.  Lov. 
Why? what's the matter?  FAC. 
Yet farther, you are to 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 Buttery, had it on her  
A week, before I spied it: But I got her  
Conveyed away, i'the night. And so I shut  
The house up for a Month-  LOV. 
How!  FAC. 
Purposing them, Sir.  
IT have burnt Rose-vinegar, Triackle, and Tar,  
And, ha' made it sweet, that you should ne'er ha'knowne it:  
Because I knew the News would but afflict you, Sir.  LOV. 
Breath 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, tagrag, been seen to flock here  
In threaves, these ten weeks, as to a second Hogsden,  
In days of Pimlico, and eyebright.  FAC. 
Sir.  
Their wisdoms will not say so.  LOV. 
To day, they speak  
Of Coaches, and Gallants; one in a French-hood,  
Went in, they tell me: and another was seen  
In a Velvet Gown, at the window. diverse more  
Pass in and out.  Fac. 
They did pass through the doors then,  
Or walls, I assure their Eyesights, and their Spectacles;  
For here, Sir, are the keys; and here have been,  
In this my pocket, now, about 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 opened.  LOV. 
Strange!  NEI. 1. 
Good faith, I think I saw a Coach!  NEI. 2. 
And I too,  
I'd ha' been sworn!  LOV. 
Do you but think it now?  
And but one Coach?  NEI. 4. 
We cannot tell, Sir. leremy  
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''at.  LOV. 
Fine Rogues, to have your testimonies built on!  NEI. 3. 
Is jeremy come?  MEI. 1. 
O yes, you may leave your tools,  
We were deceived 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. 5.  

SCENE. 3.  SURLY. MAMMON. LOVE-Wit. FACE. NEIGHBOURS. KASTRIL. ANA. TRIBULATION. DAPPER. SUBTLE. 
NO Sir, He was a great Physician. This,  
It was no Bawdy-house: But a mere Chancel.  
You knew the Lord, and his Sister.  MAM. 
Nay good Surly—  SUR. 
The happy word, Be rich—  MAM. 
Play not the Tyrant—  SUR. 
Should be to day pronounced, to all your friends.  
And where be your Andirons now? And your Brass Pots?  
That should ha'been Golden Flagons, and great Wedges?  MAM. 
Let me but breath. What! They ha'shut their doors,  
Me thinks.  SUR. 
ay, now, 'tis Holiday with them.  MAM. 
Rogues,  
Cozeners, Impostors, Bawds.  FAC. 
What mean you, Sir?  MAM. 
To enter if we can.  FAC. 
Another man's 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, & 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 Housekeeper,  
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 Rascal. 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 
ay, 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 Moon has crazed 'em all. (O me,  
The angry Boy come too? he'll make a noise  
And near away till he have betrayed us all.)  KAS. 
What Rogues, Bawds, Slaves, you'll open the door anon.  
Punk, Cockatrice, my Sister. 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 Sister.  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.  ANA. 
Come forth, you Seed of Vipers, Sons of Belial,  
Your wickedness is broke forth: Abomination  
Is in the House.  KAS. 
My sister's there.  ANA. 
The place,  
It is become a Cage of unclean birds.  KAS. 
ay, I will fetch the Scavenger, and the Constable.  TRI. 
You shall do well.  ANA. 
we'll join, to weed them out.  KAS. 
You will not come then? Punk, devise, my Sister?  ANA. 
Call her not Sister. She is 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 turned Bedlam.  FAC. 
These are all broke loose,  
Out of S. Katherine's, 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 and the Lock be changed.  LOV. 
It mazes me!  FAC. 
Good faith, Sir, I believe,  
There's no such thing. 'Tis all Deceptio visus.  
Would I could get him away.  DAP. 
Mr. Captain. Mr. 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 Aunt's 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 leremy,  
The truth, the shortest way.  FAC. 
Dismiss this rabble, Sir.  
What shall I do? I am catched.  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 medicine,  
To draw so many several sorts of wildfowl?  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 recompense, that you shall gi'me thanks for,  
Will 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. 5.  

SCENE. 4.  SUBTLE. DAPPER. FACE. DOL. 
HOw! ha you eaten your gag?  DAP. 
Yes faith, it crumbled  
Away i' my mouth.  SUB. 
You ha' spoiled all then.  DAP. 
No,  
I hope my Aunt of Fairy will forgive me.  SUB. 
Your Aunt's a gracious Lady, but in truth  
You were to blame.  DAP. 
The fume did overcome me,  
And I did do't to stay my stomach. Pray you  
So satisfy her Grace. Here comes the Captain.  FAC. 
How now! Is his mouth down?  SUB. 
ay, he has spoken!  FAC. 
(A pox, I heard him, and you too.) he's undone, then.  
I have been fain to say, the House is haunted  
With Spirits, to keep Churl 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. 
Show him his Aunt, and let him be dispatched:  
I'll send her to you.  SUB. 
Well Sir, your Aunt her Grace,  
Will give you audience presently, on my suit,  
And the captains word, that you did not eat your gag,  
In any contempt of her Highness.  DAP. 
Not I, in troth, Sir.  SUB. 
Here she is come. Down o' your knees, and wriggle:  
She has a stately presence. Good. Yet nearer,  
And bid God save her.  DAP. 
Madame.  SUB. 
And your Aunt.  DAP. 
And my most Gracious Aunt, God save your Grace.  DOL. 
Nephew, we thought to have been angry, with you;  
But that sweet face of yours, hath turned the tide,  
And made it flow with joy, that ebbed of love.  
Arise, and touch our velvet Gown.  SUB. 
The Skirts,  
And kisse'hem. So.  DOL. 
Let me now struck that head.  
Much, Nephew, shalt thou win; much shalt thou spend;  
Much shalt thou give away, much shalt thou Lend.  SUB. 
ay, much indeed. Why do you not thank her Grace?  DAP. 
I cannot speak, for joy..  SUB. 
See, the kind wretch!  
Your Grace's kinsman right.  DOL. 
Give me the Bird.  
Here is your Fly in a Purse, about your neck, cozen,  
Wear it, and feed it, about this day seu ' night,  
On your right wrist.  SUB. 
Open a vain, with a Pin,  
And let it suck but once a week. Till then,  
You must not look on't.  DOL. 
No. And Kinsman,  
Bear yourself worthy of the blood you come on.  SUB. 
Her Grace would ha' you eat no more Woolsack pies,  
Nor Dagger Frumenty.  DOL. 
Nor break his fast,  
In Heaven, and Hell.  SUB. 
she's with you every where.  
Nor play with Costermongers at Mumchance, Tray-trip,  
God make you rich (when as your Aunt has done it:) but keep  
The Gallantest company, and the best Games.  DAP. 
Yes, Sir.  SUB. 
Gleek and Primero; and what you get be true to us.  DAP. 
By this hand, I will.  SUB. 
You may bring's a Thousand pound,  
Before to morrow night, (if but three Thousand  
Be stirring) if 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 five 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. 
ay, Sir, I mean.  SUB. 
Or gi't away. A pox on't.  FAC. 
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 suit,  
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 packed up all?  DOL. 
Yes.  FAC. 
And how do you like  
The Lady Pliant?  DOL. 
A good dull Innocent.  SUB. 
Here's your Hieronimo's cloak, and hat.  FAC. 
Give me 'hem.  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 gulled her of her jewels, or her Bracelets?  DOL. 
No, but I will do't.  SUB. 
Soon at night, my Dolly,  
When we are shipped, and all our goods aboard,  
Eastward for Ratcliff, we will turn our course  
To Brainford, Westward, if thou sayst the word,  
And take our leaves of this ore-weening Rascal,  
This peremptory Face.  DOL. 
Content. I'm weary of him,  SUB. 
Thou'hast cause, when the Slave will run a wiving, 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 tortured else  
Extremely in her sleep, say, and ha' strange things  
Come to her, wilt thou?  DOL. 
Yes.  SUB. 
My fine Flittermouse,  
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—  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 him 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 tie as ours was.  DOL. 
Let me alone to fit him.  FAC. 
Come my Venturers.  
You ha' packed up all? Where be the Trunks? Bring forth.  SUB. 
Here.  FAC. 
Let's see 'hem. Where's the Money?  SUB. 
Here,  
In this.  FAC. 
Mammon's ten pound: Eight score before.  
The brethren's money, this. Druggers and Dappers.  
What Paper's 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 Mistress?  DOL. 
Yes.  FAC. 
What box is that?  SUB. 
The Fishwives rings, I think.  
And th'alewives single money. Is't not Dol?  DOL. 
Yes; and the whistle, that the sailors wife  
Brought you, to know, and her Husband were with Ward.  FAC. 
we'll wet it to morrow: and our Silver-beakers,  
And Tavern cups. Where be the French Petticoats,  
And Girdles, and Hangers?  SUB. 
Here, i'the Trunk,  
And the Bolts of Lawn.  FAC. 
Is Druggers Damask, there?  
And the Tobacco?  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 pardoned me, and he will keep 'hem.  
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 backside;  
Or lend you a sheet, to save your Velvet Gown, Doll.  
Here will be Officers presently; bethink you,  
Of some course suddenly to scape the Dock,  
For thither you'll come else. Hark you, Thunder.  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 somewhere:  
Thou shalt ha'my Letter to Mrs Amo.  DOL. 
Hang you—  FAC. 
Or Madam Imperial.  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 myself  
That I may walk a greater devil, than thou,  
And haunt thee i'the Flock-bed, and the Buttery.    

ACT. 5.  

SCENE. 5.  LOVE-Wit. OFFICERS. MAMMON. SURLY. FACE. KASTRIL. ANANIAS. TRBULATION. DRVGGER. Da: PLIANT. 
WHat 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 strait.  FAC. 
Sir, Ha' you done?  
Is it a Marriage? perfect?  LOV. 
Yes, my Brain?  FAC. 
Off with your Ruff, and Cloak then, be yourself, Sir.  SUR. 
Down with the door.  KAS. 
'Slight, ding it open.  LOV. 
Hold.  
Hold Gentlemen, what means this violence?  MAM. 
Where is this Collier?  SUR. 
And my Captain Face?  MAM. 
These day-owls.  SUR. 
That are Birding in men's purses.  MAM. 
Madame Suppository.  KAS. 
Doxy, my Sister.  ANA. 
Locusts  
Of the foul pit  TRI. 
Profane as Bel, and the Dragon.  ANA. 
Worsethen the Grasshoppers, 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 Chemical Cozener.  SUR. 
And the Captain Pandarus.  KAS. 
The Nun my Sister.  MAM. 
Madame Rabbi.  ANA. 
Scorpions,  
And Caterpillars.  LOV. 
Fewer at once, I pray you.  OFF. 
One after another, Gentlemen, I charge you,  
By virtue of my staff—  ANA. 
They are the vessels  
Of shame, and of dishonour.  LOV. 
Goodzeale, 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' God's name.  
I am but newly come to town, and finding  
This tumult 'bout my door (to tell you true)  
It somewhat mazed me; till my Man, here, (fearing  
My more displeasure) told me 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?  LOV. 
You may go in, and search, Sir. Here, I find  
The empty Walls, worse than I left'hem, smoked,  
A few cracked pots, and Glasses, and a Furnace,  
The Ceiling filled with To●sies of the Candle:  
And Madam, with a Dildo, writ o'the walls.  
Only one Gentlewoman, I met here,  
That is within, that said she was a Widow—  KAS. 
I that's my Sister. I'll go thump her. Where is she?  LOV. 
And should ha' married a Spanish Count, buthe,  
When he came to't, neglected her so grossly,  
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 does blame ye extremely, and says  
You swore, and told her, you had ta'en the pains,  
To die your beard, and umbre o'er your face,  
Borrowed a Suit, and Ruff, all for her Love;  
And then did nothing What an over sight,  
And want of putting forward, Sir, was this!  
Well fare an old Hargubuzier, yet,  
Could prime his powder, and give fire, and hit,  
All in a twinkling.  MAM. 
The whole Nest are fled!  LOV. 
What sort of Birds were they?  MAM. 
A kind of choughs,  
Or thievish Daws, Sir, that have picked 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 have 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 knowledge,  
That they are yours, but by public means.  
If you can bring certificate, that you were gulled of 'em,  
Or any formal Writ, out of a Court,  
That you did cozen yourself; I will not hold them.  MAM. 
I'll rather loose'hem.  LOV. 
That you shall not, Sir,  
By me, in troth. Upon these termesthey ' are yours.  
What should they ha' been, Sir, turned into Gold all?  MAM. 
No.  
I cannot tell. It may be they should. What then?  LOV. 
What a great loss in hope have you sustained?  MAM. 
Not I, the Common wealth has.  FAC. 
ay, 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 morefield's, the Younkers,  
And Tits, and Tomboys should have fed on gratis.  MAM. 
I will go mount a Turnep-cart, and preach  
The end o'the world within these two months. Surly,  
What! in a Dream?  SUR. 
Must I needs cheat myself,  
With that same foolish vice of Honesty!  
Come let us go, and hearken out the Rogues.  
That Face I'll mark for mine, if ere 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 myself, Sir.  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 defy  
The wicked Mammon, so do all the Brethren,  
Thou profane man.. I ask thee, with what conscience  
Thou canst advance that Nemrod, against us,  
That have the seal? Were not the Shillings numbered,  
That made the Pounds? were not the Pounds told out,  
Upon the second day of the fourth week,  
In the eight month, upon the table dormant,  
The year, of the last patience of the Saints,  
Six hundred and ten.  LOV. 
Mine earnest vehement Butcher,  
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 Amstredam, 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 falsehood, and this cave of cozenage.  LOV. 
Another too?  DRU. 
Not I Sir, I am no Brother.  LOV. 
Away you Harry Nicholas, do you talk?  FAC. 
No this was Abel Drugger. Good Sir, go.  
And satisfy him; tell him, all is done:  
He stayed 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 can get off the Angry Child now, Sir—  KAS. 
Come on, you Yew, you have matched most sweetly, ha' you not?  
Did not I say, I would never ha' you tupped  
But by a dubbed 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 lie, Boy;  
As sound as you: and I am afore-handwith you.  KAS. 
Anon?  LOV. 
Come, will you quarrel? I will feeze you, sirrah.  
Why do you not buckle to your tools?  KAS. 
God's light!  
This is a fine Old Boy, as ere I saw!  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 choose i'faith,  
And I should be hanged for't. Sister, I protest  
I honour thee, for this match.  LOV. 
O do you so, Sir.  KAS. 
Yes, and thou canst take Tobacco, and drink, Old Boy,  
I'll give her five hundred pound more, to her Marriage,  
Then her own State.  LOV. 
Fill a pipeful, jeremy.  FAC. 
Yes, but go in, and take it, Sir.  LOV. 
We will.  
I will be ruled by thee in any thing, jeremy.  KAS. 
'Slight, thou art not Hidebound, thou art a jovy Boy!  
Come let's in pray thee, and take our W●ffes.  LOV. 
Whiff in with your Sister, brother Boy. That Master  
That had received such happiness by a Servant,  
In such a Widow, and with so much wealth,  
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 candour. Therefore Gentlemen,  
And kind Spectators, if I have out stripped  
An old man's 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 thyself, 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 myself  
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.    
The end.