University of Virginia Library

Scene IIII.

Face
, Dol, Svbtle.
VVhat say's, my daintie Dolkin?

Dol.
Yonder fish-wife
Will not away. And there's your giantesse,
The bawd of Lambeth.

Svb.
Hart, I cannot speake with 'hem.

Dol.
Not, afore night, I haue told 'hem, in a voice,
Thorough the trunke, like one of your familiars.
But I haue spied sir Epicvre Mammon—

Svb.
Where?

Dol.
Comming along, at far end of the lane,
Slow of his feet, but earnest of his tongue,
To one, that's with him.

Svb.
Face, goe you, and shift,
Dol, you must presently make readie, too—

Dol.
Why, what's the matter?

Svb.
O, I did looke for him
With the sunnes rising: 'Maruaile, he could sleepe!
This is the day, I am to perfect for him
The magisterium, our great worke, the stone;
And yeeld it, made, into his hands: of which,
He has, this month, talk'd, as he were possess'd.
And, now, hee's dealing peeces on't, away.
Me thinkes, I see him, entring ordinaries,
Dispensing for the poxe; and plaguy-houses,
Reaching his dose; walking more-fields for lepers;
And offring citizens-wiues pomander-bracelets,
As his preseruatiue, made of the elixir;
Searching the spittle, to make old bawdes yong;
And the high-waies, for beggars, to make rich:
I see no end of his labours. He will make
Nature asham'd, of her long sleepe: when art,
Who's but a step-dame, shall doe more, then shee,
In her best loue to man-kind, euer could.
If his dreame last, hee'll turne the age, to gold.