And I would fain keep it half a year longer. Face. Out on thee, Nab. 'Slight, there was such an offer, 'Shalt keep 't no longer, I'll gi' it him for thee. Drug. Will ye? Face. Doctor, Nab prays your worship to drink this, and swears He will appear more grateful, as your skill Drug. I would intreat Face. What is't, Nab? Drug. But to look over, sir, my almanack, And cross out my ill days, that I may neither Bargain nor trust upon them. Face. That he shall, Nab. Leave it, it shall be done, 'gainst afternoon. Art thou well pleased, Nab? Drug. Thank, sir, both your worships, I am a made man. Face. Away. Why, now you smoaky prosecutor of nature! 600 [Exit. Now do you see, that something's to be done, Beside your beech-coal, and your cor'sive waters, "Your crosslets, crucibles, and cucurbites? "You must have stuff, brought home to you, to work on ?" And yet, you think, I am at no expence In searching out these veins, then following them, Then trying them out. 'Fore God, my intelligence Costs me more money than my share oft comes to In these rare works. Sub. You are pleasant, sir.-How now ? 620 Enter DOL. Face. What says my dainty Dolkin? Dol. Yonder fish-wife Will not away. And there's your giantess, The bawd of Lambeth. Sub. Heart, I cannot speak with them. Dol. Not afore night, I have told them, 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- Sub. Oh, I did look for him With the sun's rising: marvel, he could sleep! 640 Dispensing for the pox, and plaguy houses, "Reaching his dose, walking Moorfields for lepers, "Searching the spittal, to make old bawds young; "And the highways, for beggars to make rich : " I see no end of my labours. He will make "Nature asham'd of her long sleep; when art, "Who's but a step dame, shall do more than she," He's, in belief of chymistry, so bold, If his dream last, he'll turn the age to gold. Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. MAMMON and SURLY. Mammon. COME on, sir. Now you set your foot on shore And there within, sir, are the golden mines, I will pronounce the happy word, Be rich. And have your punques, and punquetees, my Surly, Where is my Subtle, there? Face. [Within.] Sir, he'll come to you, by and by. Mam. That's his fire-drake. His lungs, his Zephirus, he that puffs his coals, Till he firk Nature up in her own centre. You are doubtful, sir. This night, I'll change And, early in the morning, will I send And buy their tin, and lead up; and to Lothbury, 20 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 Sur. No faith. admire now? Mam. But when you see the effects of the great medicine, You will believe me. Sur. Yes, when I see't, I will. Mam. 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, To whom he will. In eight and twenty days, Sur. No doubt, he's that already. Mam. Nay, I mean, Restore his years, renew him, like an eagle, 40 To the fifth age; make him get sons and daughters, Become stout Marses, and beget young Cupids. Sur. The decay'd vestals of Drury-Lane would thank you, That keep the fire alive there. Mam. 'Tis the secret Of Nature, naturiz'd 'gainst all infections, A month's grief in a day; a year's in twelve: Past all the doses of your drugging doctors. Sur. Faith I have a humour, I would not willingly be gull'd. Your Stone Mam. Surly, Will you believe antiquity? Records ? I'll shew you a book, where Moses, and his sister, And Solomon, have written of the art; Ay, and a treatise penn'd by Adam. Sur. How! 60 Mam. O' the Philosopher's Stone, and in High Dutch. Sur. Did Adam, write, sir, in High Dutch? Which proves it was the primitive tongue? How now? Do we succeed; Is our day come? and holds it? Face. 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. |