University of Virginia Library

Scene. I.

Meer-craft. Fitz-dottrel. Ingine. Traines. Pvg.
[Mer.]
Sir, money's a whore, a bawd, a drudge;
Fit to runne out on errands: Let her goe.
Via pecunia! when she's runne and gone,
And fled and dead; then will I fetch her, againe,
With Aqua-vitæ, out of an old Hogs-head!
While there are lees of wine, or dregs of beere,
I'le neuer want her! Coyne her out of cobwebs,
Dust, but I'll haue her! Raise wooll vpon egge-shells,
Sir, and make grasse grow out o' marro-bones.
To make her come. (Commend mee to your Mistresse,
Say, let the thousand pound but be had ready,
To a waiter.
And it is done) I would but see the creature
(Of flesh, and blood) the man, the prince, indeed,
That could imploy so many millions
As I would help him to.

Fit.
How, talks he? millions?

Mer.
(I'll giue you an account of this to morrow.)
To another.
Yes, I will talke no lesse, and doe it too;
If they were Myriades: and without the Diuell,
By direct meanes, it shall be good in law.

Ing.
Sir.

Mer.
Tell Mr. Wood-cock, I'll not faile to meet him
Vpon th'Exchange at night. Pray him to haue
The writings there, and wee'll dispatch it: Sir,
You are a Gentleman of a good presence,
A handsome man (I haue considered you)
As a fit stocke to graft honours vpon:
I haue a Proiect to make you a Duke, now.
That you must be one, within so many moneths,
As I set downe, out of true reason of state,
You sha' not auoyd it. But you must harken, then.

Ing.
Harken? why Sr, do you doubt his eares? Alas!
You doe not know Master Fitz-dottrel.

Fit.
He do's not know me indeed. I thank you, Ingine,
For rectifying him.

Mer.
Good! Why, Ingine, then
I'le tell it you. (I see you ha' credit, here,
And, that you can keepe counsell, I'll not question.)
Hee shall but be an vndertaker with mee,
In a most feasible bus'nesse. It shall cost him
Nothing.

Ing.
Good, Sr.

Mer.
Except he please, but's count'nance;
(That I will haue) t'appeare in't, to great men,
For which I'll make him one. Hee shall not draw
A string of's purse. I'll driue his pattent for him.
We'll take in Cittizens, Commoners, and Aldermen,
To beare the charge, and blow 'hem off againe,
Like so many dead flyes, when 'tis carryed.
The thing is for recouery of drown'd Land,
Whereof the Crown's to haue a moiety,
If it be owner; Else, the Crowne and Owners
To share that moyety: and the recouerers
T'enioy the tother moyety, for their charge.

Ing.
Throughout England?

Mer.
Yes, which will arise
To eyghteene millions, seuen the first yeere:
I haue computed all, and made my suruay
Vnto an acre, I'll beginne at the Pan,
Not, at the skirts: as some ha' done, and lost,
All that they wrought, their timber-worke, their trench,
Their bankes all borne away, or else fill'd vp
By the next winter. Tut, they neuer went
The way: I'll haue it all.

Ing.
A Gallant tract
Of land it is!

Mer.
'Twill yeeld a pound an acre.
Wee must let cheape, euer, at first. But Sir,
This lookes too large for you, I see. Come hither,
We'll haue a lesse. Here's a plain fellow, you see him,
Has his black bag of papers, there, in Buckram,
Wi'not be sold for th'Earledome of Pancridge: Draw,
Gi'me out one, by chance. Proiect; foure dogs skins?
Twelue thousand pound! the very worst, at first.

Fit.
Pray you let's see't Sir.

Mer.
'Tis a toy, a trifle!

Fit.
Trifle! 12. thousand pound for dogs-skins?

Mer.
Yes,
But, by my way of dressing, you must know, Sir,
And med'cining the leather, to a height
Of improu'd ware, like your Borachio
Of Spaine, Sir. I can fetch nine thousand for't—

Ing.
Of the Kings glouer?

Mer.
Yes, how heard you that?

Ing.
Sir, I doe know you can.

Mer.
Within this houre:
And reserue halfe my secret. Pluck another;
See if thou hast a happier hand: I thought so.
Hee pluckes out the 2. Bottle-ale.
The very next worse to it! Bottle-ale.
Yet, this is two and twenty thousand! Pr'y thee
Pull out another, two or three.

Fit.
Good, stay, friend,
By bottle-ale, two and twenty thousand pound?

Mer.
Yes, Sir, it's cast to penny-hal'penny-farthing,
O'the back-side, there you may see it, read,
I will not bate a Harrington o'the summe.
I'll winne it i'my water, and my malt,
My furnaces, and hanging o'my coppers,
The tonning, and the subtilty o' my yest;
And, then the earth of my bottles, which I dig,
Turne vp, and steepe, and worke, and neale, my selfe,
To a degree of Porc'lane. You will wonder,
At my proportions, what I will put vp
In seuen yeeres! for so long time, I aske
For my inuention. I will saue in cork,
In my mere stop'ling, 'boue three thousand pound,
Within that terme: by googing of 'hem out
Iust to the size of my bottles, and not slicing.
There's infinite losse i'that. What hast thou there?
Hee drawes out another. Raisines.
O'making wine of raisins: this is in hand, now,

Ing.
Is not that strange, Sr, to make wine of raisins?

Mer.
Yes, and as true a wine, as th'wines of France,
Or Spaine, or Italy, Looke of what grape
My raisin is, that wine I'll render perfect,
As of the muscatell grape, I'll render muscatell;
Of the Canary, his; the Claret, his;
So of all kinds: and bate you of the prices,
Of wine, throughout the kingdome, halfe in halfe.

Ing.
But, how, Sr, if you raise the other commodity,
Raysins?

Mer.
Why, then I'll make it out of black-berries:
And it shall doe the same. 'Tis but more art,
And the charge lesse. Take out another.

Fit.
No, good Sir.
Saue you the trouble, I'le not looke, nor heare
Of any, but your first, there; the Drown'd land:
If't will doe, as you say.

Mer.
Sir, there's not place,
To gi'you demonstration of these things.
They are a little to subtle. But, I could shew you
Such a necessity in't, as you must be
But what you please: against the receiu'd heresie,
That England beares no Dukes. Keepe you the land, Sr,
The greatnesse of th'estate shall throw't vpon you.
If you like better turning it to money,
What may not you, Sr, purchase with that wealth?
Say, you should part with two o'your millions,
To be the thing you would, who would not do't?
As I protest, I will, out of my diuident,
Lay, for some pretty principality,
In Italy, from the Church: Now, you perhaps,
Fancy the smoake of England, rather? But—
Ha' you no priuate roome, Sir, to draw to,
T'enlarge our selues more vpon.

Fit.
O yes, Diuell!

Mer.
These, Sir, are bus'nesses, aske to be carryed
With caution, and in cloud.

Fit.
I apprehend,
They doe so, Sr. Diuell, which way is your Mistresse?

Pvg.
Aboue, Sr. in her chamber.

Fit.
O that's well.
Then, this way, good, Sir.

Mer.
I shall follow you; Traines,
Gi'mee the bag, and goe you presently,
Commend my seruice to my Lady Tail-bush.
Tell her I am come from Court this morning; say,
I' haue got our bus'nesse mou'd, and well: Intreat her,
That shee giue you the four-score Angels, and see 'hem
Dispos'd of to my Councel, Sir Poul Eytherside.
Sometime, to day, I'll waite vpon her Ladiship,
With the relation.

Ing.
Sir, of what dispatch,
He is! Do you marke?

Mer.
Ingine, when did you see
My cousin Euer-ill? keepes he still your quarter?
I'the Bermudas?

Ing.
Yes, Sir, he was writing
This morning, very hard.

Mer.
Be not you knowne to him,
That I am come to Towne: I haue effected
A businesse for him, but I would haue it take him,
Before he thinks for't.

Ing.
Is it past?

Mer.
Not yet.
'Tis well o'the way.

Ing.
O Sir! your worship takes
Infinit paines.

Mer.
I loue Friends, to be actiue:
A sluggish nature puts off man, and kinde.

Ing.
And such a blessing followes it.

Mer.
I thanke
My fate. Pray you let's be priuate, Sir?

Fit.
In, here.

Mer.
Where none may interrupt vs.

Fit.
You heare, Diuel,
Lock the streete-doores fast, and let no one in
(Except they be this Gentlemans followers)
To trouble mee. Doe you marke? Yo' haue heard and seene
Something, to day; and, by it, you may gather
Your Mistresse is a fruite, that's worth the stealing
And therefore worth the watching. Be you sure, now,
Yo' haue all your eyes about you; and let in
No lace-woman; nor bawd, that brings French-masques,
And cut-works. See you? Nor old croanes, with wafers,
To conuey letters. Nor no youths, disguis'd
Like country-wiues, with creame, and marrow-puddings.
Much knauery may be vented in a pudding,
Much bawdy intelligence: They' are shrewd ciphers.
Nor turne the key to any neyghbours neede;
Be't but to kindle fire, or begg a little,
Put it out, rather: all out, to an ashe,
That they may see no smoake. Or water, spill it:
Knock o'the empty tubs, that by the sound,
They may be forbid entry. Say, wee are robb'd,
If any come to borrow a spoone, or so.
I wi'not haue good fortune, or gods blessing
Let in, while I am busie.

Pvg.
I'le take care, Sir.
They sha' not trouble you, if they would.

Fit.
Well, doe so.