University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

Mammon
, Face, Svrly.
Doe wee succeed? Is our day come? and hold's it?

Fac.
The euening will set red, vpon you, sir;
You haue colour for it, crimson: the red ferment
Has done his office. Three houres hence, prepare you
To see proiection.

Mam.
Pertinax, my Svrly,
Againe, I say to thee, aloud: be rich.
This day, thou shalt haue ingots: and, to morrow,
Giue lords th'affront. Is it, my Zephyrvs, right?
Blushes the bolts-head?

Fac.
Like a wench with child, sir,
That were, but now, discouer'd to her master.

Mam.
Excellent wittie Lungs! My onely care is,
Where to get stuffe, inough now, to proiect on,
This towne will not halfe serue me.

Fac.
No, sir? Buy
The couering of o' churches.

Mam.
That's true.

Fac.
Yes.
Let 'hem stand bare, as doe their auditorie.
Or cap 'hem, new, with shingles.

Mam.
No, good thatch:
Thatch will lie light vpo' the rafters, Lungs.
Lungs, I will manumit thee, from the fornace;
I will restore thee thy complexion, Puffe,
Lost in the embers; and repaire this braine,
Hurt wi'the fume o'the mettalls.

Fac.
I haue blowne, sir,
Hard, for your worship; throwne by many a coale,
When 'twas not beech; weigh'd those I put in, iust,
To keepe your heat, still euen; These bleard-eyes
Haue wak'd, to reade your seuerall colours, sir,
Of the pale citron, the greene lyon, the crow,
The peacocks taile, the plumed swan.

Mam.
And, lastly,
Thou hast descryed the flower, the sanguis agni?

Fac.
Yes, sir.

Mam.
Where's master?

Fac.
At's praiers, sir, he,
Good man, hee's doing his deuotions,
For the successe.

Mam.
Lungs, I will set a period,
To all thy labours: Thou shalt be the master
Of my seraglia.

Fac.
Good, sir.

Mam.
But doe you heare?
I'll geld you, Lungs.

Fac:
Yes, sir.

Mam.
For I doe meane
To haue a list of wiues, and concubines,
Equall with Salomon; who had the stone
Alike, with me: and I will make me, a back
With the elixir, that shall be as tough
As Hercvles, to encounter fiftie a night.
Th'art sure, thou saw'st it bloud?

Fac.
Both bloud, and spirit, sir.

Mam.
I will haue all my beds, blowne vp; not stuft:
Downe is too hard. And then, mine oual roome,
Fill'd with such pictures, as Tiberivs tooke
From Elephantis: and dull Aretine
But coldly imitated. Then, my glasses,
Cut in more subtill angles, to disperse,
And multiply the figures, as I walke
Naked betweene my succubæ. My mists
I'le haue of perfume, vapor'd 'bout the roome,
To loose our selues in; and my baths, like pits
To fall into: from whence, we will come forth,
And rowle vs drie in gossamour, and roses.
(Is it arriu'd at ruby?)—Where I spie
A wealthy citizen, or rich lawyer,
Haue a sublim'd pure wife, vnto that fellow
I'll send a thousand pound, to be my cuckold.

Fac.
And I shall carry it?

Mam.
No. I'll ha' no bawds,
But fathers, and mothers. They will doe it best.
Best of all others. And, my flatterers
Shall be the pure, and grauest of Diuines,
That I can get for money. My mere fooles,
Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets
The same that writ so subtly of the fart,
Whom I will entertaine, still, for that subiect.
The few, that would giue out themselues, to be
Court, and towne-stallions, and, each where, belye
Ladies, who are knowne most innocent, for them;
Those will I begge, to make me eunuchs of:
And they shall fan me with ten estrich tailes
A piece, made in a plume, to gather wind.
We will be braue, Puffe, now we ha' the med'cine.
My meat, shall all come in, in Indian shells,
Dishes of agate, set in gold, and studded,
With emeralds, saphyres, hiacynths, and rubies.
The tongues of carpes, dormise, and camels heeles,
Boil'd i'the spirit of Sol, and dissolu'd pearle,
(Apicivs diet, 'gainst the epilepsie)
And I will eate these broaths, with spoones of amber,
Headed with diamant, and carbuncle.
My foot-boy shall eate phesants, caluerd salmons,
Knots, godwits, lamprey's: I my selfe will haue
The beards of barbels, seru'd, in stead of sallades;
Oild mushromes; and the swelling vnctuous paps
Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,
Drest with an exquisite, and poynant sauce;
For which, Ile say vnto my cooke, there's gold,
Goe forth, and be a knight.

Fac.
Sir, I'll goe looke
A little, how it heightens.

Mam.
Doe. My shirts
I'll haue of taffata-sarsnet, soft, and light
As cob-webs; and for all my other rayment
It shall be such, as might prouoke the Persian;
Were he to teach the world riot, a new.
My gloues of fishes, and birds-skins, perfum'd
With gummes of paradise, and easterne aire—

Svr.
And do you thinke to haue the stone, with this?

Mam.
No, I doe thinke, t'haue all this, with the stone.

Svr.
Why, I haue heard, he must be homo frugi,
A pious, holy, and religious man,
One free from mortall sinne, a very virgin.

Mam.
That makes it, sir, he is so. But I buy it.
My venter brings it me. He, honest wretch,
A notable, superstitious, good soule,
Has worme his knees bare, and his slippers bald,
With prayer, and fasting for it: and, sir, let him
Do'it alone, for me, still. Here he comes,
Not a prophane word, afore him: 'Tis poyson.