University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Face, Subtle and Dol Common.
Face.
Believe it, I will.

Sub.
Do thy worst. I dare thee.

Face.
Sirrah, I'll strip you out of all your sleights.

Dol.
Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen?

Sub.
O, let the wild sheep loose. 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 somebody.’

Face.
Sirrah!

Sub.
I shall mar
All that the taylor has made, if you approach.

Face.
You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave,
Dare you do this?

Sub.
Yes faith, yes faith.

Face.
Why, who
Am I, my mungrel? Who am I?

Sub.
I'll tell you,
Since you know not yourself—

Face.
Speak lower, rogue.

Sub.
Yes, you were once (time not long pass'd) the good,
Honest, plain, livery-man, that kept
Your master's worship's house here in the Friars,
For the vacations.

Face.
Will you be so loud?

Sub.
Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain.

Face.
By your means, Doctor Dog?

Sub.
Within man's memory,
All this I speak of.

Face.
Why, I pray you, have I
Been countenanced by you, or you by me?
Do but collect, Sir, where I met you first.

Sub.
I do not hear well.

Face.
But I shall put you in mind, Sir; at Pie-Corner,
Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks' stalls;
Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk
Piteously costive, with your pinch'd-horn nose,
And your complexion of the Roman watch,
Stuck full of black and melancholic worms,
Like powder corn shot at th'Artillery-yard.

Sub.
I wish you could advance your voice a little.

Face.
When you went pinn'd up in the several rags.
You had rak'd and pick'd from dunghills, before day;
Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes
A felt of rug, and a thin thredden cloak,
That scarce would cover your no-buttocks—

Sub.
So, Sir!

Face.
When all your alchymy, and your algebra,
Your minerals, vegetals, and animals,
Your conjuring, coz'ning, and your dozen of trades,
Could not relieve your corpse with so much linen
Would make you tinder but to see a fire;
I gave you count'nance, credit for your coals,
Your stills, your glasses, your materials;
Built you a furnace, drew you customers,
Advanc'd all your black arts; lent you, beside,
A house to practise in—

Sub.
Your master's house?

Face.
Where you have studied the more thriving skill.
Of bawd'ry 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 butt'ry hatch still lock'd, and save the chippings,
‘Sell the dole-beer to aqua-vitæ men,
‘The which, together with your Christmas vails
‘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.

‘Face.
You might talk softlier, rascal.

‘Sub.
No, you Scarabe;
‘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.

‘Face.
The place has made you valiant.

‘Sub.
No, your cloaths.
‘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 wat'ring pots!
‘Sublim'd thee, and exalted thee, and fix'd thee
‘I' the third region, call'd our State of Grace
‘Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains
‘Would twice have won me the philosopher's work!
‘Made thee a second in mine own great art!
‘And have I this for thanks? Do you rebel?
‘Do you fly out i'the projection?
‘Would you begone now?

‘Dol.
Gentlemen, what mean you?
‘Will you mar all?

‘Sub.
Slave, thou hadst no name—

‘Dol.
Will you undo yourselves with civil war?

‘Sub.
Never been known, past equi elibanum,
‘The heat of horse-dung, under ground, in cellars,
‘Or an ale-house darker than deaf John's; been lost
‘To all mankind, but laundresses and tapsters,
‘Had not I been.

‘Dol.
Do you know who hears you, sovereign?

‘Face.
Sirrah—

‘Dol.
Nay, general, I thought you were civil—’

Face.
I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud.

Sub.
And hang thyself, I care not.

Face.
Hang thee, Collier,
And all thy pots and pans, in picture, ‘I will,
‘Since thou hast mov'd me—

‘Dol.
Oh, this 'll o'erthrow all.

‘Face.
Write thee up bawd in Pawl's, have all thy tricks
‘Of coz'ning with a hollow coal, dust, scrapings,
‘Searching for things lost with a sieve and shears,
‘Erecting figures in your rows of houses,
‘And taking in of shadows with a glass,
‘Told in red letters; and face cut for thee,
‘Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's.

‘Dol.
Are you sound?
‘Ha' you your senses, masters?

‘Face.
I will have
‘A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures,
‘Shall prove a true philosopher's stone to printers.’

Sub.
Away, you trencher-rascal.

Face.
Out, you dog-leach,
The vomit of all prisons.

Dol.
Will you be
Your own destructions, gentlemen?

Sub.
Cheater.

Face.
Bawd.

Sub.
Cow-herd.

Face.
Conjurer.

Sub.
Cut-purse.

Dol.
We are ruined! lost! Ha'you no more regard
To your reputations? Where's your judgment? 'Slight,
Have yet some care of me, o' your republick—

Face.
Away, this brach. I'll bring the rogue within
The statute of sorcery, 'tricesimo tertio
‘Of Harry the Eighth; ay, and, perhaps, thy neck
‘Within a noose, for laundring gold, and barbing it.’

Dol.
You'll bring your head within a cockscomb, will you?
[She catches out Face's sword, and breaks Subtle's glass.
And you, Sir, 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 ne'er a snarling dog-bolt o' you both.
Ha' you together cozen'd all this while,
And all the world? and shall it now be said,
Yo' have made most courteous shift to cozen 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 Black-Friars 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.

Face.
It is his fault;
He ever murmurs, and objects his pains;
And says, the weight of all lies upon him.

Sub.
Why, so it does.

Dol.
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! Ay, and do. Death on me!
Help me to throttle him.

Sub.
Dorothy, Mistress Dorothy!
'Ods 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 and Luna—help me.

Sub.
Would I were hang'd then. I'll conform myself.

Dol.
Will you, Sir? Do so then, and quickly: swear.

Sub.
What shall I swear?

Dol.
To leave your faction, Sir,
And labour kindly in the common work.

Sub.
Let me not breathe, if I meant ought beside.
I only us'd those speeches as a spur
To him.

Dol.
I hope we need no spurs, Sir. Do we?

Face.
'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 smil'd twice sin' the king came in)
A feast of laughter at our follies? No, agree.
And may Don Provost ride a feasting long,
In his old velvet jerkin,
(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.

Face.
For which, at supper, thou shalt sit in triumph,
And not be stil'd Dol Common, but Dol Proper,
Dol Singular: ‘the longest cut, at night,
‘Shall draw thee for his Dol Particular.’

[One knocks.
Sub.
Who's that? [Knocks]
To the window,
Pray heav'n
The master do not trouble us this quarter.

Face.
Oh, 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-yards 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:
‘Tho' we break up a fortnight, 'tis no matter.’

Sub.
Who is it, Dol?

Dol.
A fine young quodling.

Face.
Oh,
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.
Oh, let him in.

Face.
Get you
Your robes on: I will meet him, as going out.

Dol.
And what shall I do?

Face.
Not be seen. Away.
Seem you very reserv'd.

Sub.
Enough.

Face.
God be with you, Sir.
I pray you let him know that I was here.
His Name is Dapper. I would gladly have staid, but—

Enter Dapper.
Dap.
Captain, I am here.

Sub.
Who's that?

Face.
He's come, I think, Doctor.
Good faith, Sir, I was going away.

Dap.
In truth,
I am very sorry, Captain.

Face.
But I thought
Sure I should meet you.

Dap.
Ay, I am very glad.
I had a scurvy writ or two to make,
And I had lent my watch last night to one
That dines to day at the sheriff's, and so was robb'd
Of ny pass-time? Is this the cunning-man?

Face.
This is his worship.

Dap.
Is he a doctor?

Face.
Yes.

Dap.
And ha' your broke with him, Captain?

Face.
Ay.

Dap.
And how?

Face.
Faith, he does make the matter, Sir, so dainty,
I know not what to say.

Dap.
Not so, good Captain.

Face.
Would I were fairly rid on't, believe me.

Dap.
Nay, now you grieve me, Sir. Why should you wish so?
I dare assure you, I'll not be ungrateful.

‘Face.
I cannot think you will, Sir. 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, Sir, with a fool.

‘Face.
It was a clerk, Sir.

‘Dap.
A clerk!

‘Face.
Nay, hear me, Sir, you know the law
‘Better, I think.—

‘Dap.
I should, Sir, and the danger.
‘You know, I shew'd the statute to you.

‘Face.
You did so.

‘Dap.
And will I tell then? By this hand of flesh,
‘Would it might never write good court-hand more,
‘If I discover. What do you think of me,
‘That I am a Chiause?

‘Face.
What's that?

‘Dap.
The Turk was, here—
‘As one would say, do you think I am a Turk?’

Face.
I'll tell the Doctor so.

Dap.
Do, good sweet Captain.

Face.
Come, noble Doctor, pray thee let's prevail;
This is the gentleman, and he is no Chiause.

Sub.
Captain, I have return'd you all my answer.
I would do much, Sir, for your love—but this
I neither may, nor can.

Face.
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, Sir, move you.

Sub.
Pray you, forbear.

Face.
He has
Four angels here.

Sub.
You do me wrong, good Sir.

Face.
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.

Face.
I draw you! a horse draw you, and a halter.
You and your flies together.

Dap.
Nay, good Captain.

Face.
That know no difference of men.

Sub.
Good words, Sir.

Face.
Good deeds, Sir, Doctor Dogs-meat.

Dap.
Nay, dear Captain,
Use master Doctor with some more respect.

Face.
Hang him, proud stag, with his broad velvet head.
But for your sake, I'd choak, ere I would change
An article of breath with such a puckfoist—
Come, let's be gone.

Sub.
Pray you, let me speak with you.

Dap.
His Worship calls you, Captain.

Face.
I am sorry
I e'er embark'd myself in such a business.

Dap.
Nay, good Sir, he did call you.

Face.
Will he take then?

Sub.
First hear me—

Face.
Not a syllable, 'less you take.

Sub.
Pray ye, Sir—

Face.
Upon no terms, but an assumpsit.

Sub.
Your humour must be law.

[He takes money.
Face.
Why now, Sir, talk.
Now I dare hear you with mine honour. Speak.
So may this gentleman too.

Sub.
Why, Sir—

Face.
No whispering.

Sub.
Fore heaven, you do not apprehend the loss
You do yourself in this.

Face.
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,
If it be set him.

‘Face.
How!

‘Sub.
Yes, and blow up gamester after gamester,
‘As they do crackers in a puppet-play.
‘If I do give him a familiar,
‘Give you him all you play for: never set him;
‘For he will have it.

‘Face.
You are 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.

‘Face.
'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.
Ay, 'tis true, Sir;
‘But I do think now I shall leave the law,
‘And therefore—

‘Face.
Why, this changes quite the case!
‘Do you think that I dare move him?

‘Dap.
If you please, Sir;
‘All's one to him, I see.

‘Face.
What! for that money?
‘I cannot with my conscience: nor should you
‘Make the request, methinks.

‘Dap.
No, Sir, I mean
‘To add consideration.

‘Face.
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 month, conceive me.

‘Face.
Indeed!

‘Sub.
He'll draw you all the treasure of the realm,
‘If it be set him.”

Face.
Speak you this from art?

Sub.
Ay, Sir, and reason too, the ground of art.
He is o' the only best complexion
The queen of fairy loves.

Face.
What! is he!

Sub.
Peace.
He'll over-hear you. Sir, should she but see him—

Face.
What?

Sub.
Do not you tell him.

Face.
Will he win at cards too?

Sub.
He will, he will,
‘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.’

Face.
Indeed, a strange success that some men should be born to!

Sub.
He hears you, man.

Dap.
Sir, I'll not be ungrateful.

Face.
Faith, I have confidence in his good nature:
You hear, he says he will not be ungrateful.

Sub.
Why, as you please; my venture follows yours.

Face.
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.

Face.
And you shall, Sir.
You have heard all?

Dap.
No, what was't? Nothing, I, Sir.

Face.
Nothing?

[Face takes him aside.
Dap.
A little, Sir.

Face.
Well, a rare star
Reign'd at your birth.

Dap.
At mine, Sir! No.

Face.
The Doctor
Swears that you are—

Sub.
Nay, Captain, you'll tell all now.

Face.
Allied to the Queen of Fairy.

Dap.
Who! that I am?
Believe it, no such matter.—

Face.
Yes, and that
You were born with a caul o' your head.

Dap.
Who says so?

Face.
Come,
You know it well enough, tho' you dissemble it.

Dap.
I-fac, I do not; you are mistaken.

Face.
How!
Swear by your fac! and in a thing so known
Unto the Doctor? How shall we, Sir, trust you
I'th'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 Jove, Sir,
I'll win ten thousand pound, and send you half.
I-fac's no oath.

Sub.
No, no, he did but jest.

Face.
Go to. Go thank the Doctor. He's your friend,
To take it so.

Dap.
I thank his Worship.

Face.
Do you think that will do? No, no;
Give him another angel.

Dap.
Must I?

Face.
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.
Oh, good Sir!
There must be a world of ceremonies pass;
You must be bath'd and fumigated first:
Besides, the Queen of Fairy does not rise
Till it be noon.

Face.
Not if she danc'd to-night.

Sub.
And she must bless it.

Face.
Did you never see
Her Royal Grace yet?

Dap.
Whom?

Face.
Your aunt of Fairy.

Sub.
Not since she kiss'd him in the cradle, Captain;
I can resolve you that.

Face.
Well, see her Grace,
Whate'er it cost you, for a thing that I know.
It will be somewhat hard to compass; but,
However, 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 phant'sy,
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?

Face.
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.

Face.
Enough.

Sub.
Who's there?
[One knocks without.
Anon. Conduct him forth by the back way.—
Sir, against one o'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 buz as often; and then come.

Face.
Can you remember this?

Dap.
I warrant you.

Face.
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.

Dap.
Hum—buz.

[Exit.
Face.
Hum—buz.

[Exit.
Sub.
Come in.

Enter Drugger.

[Within.]
I will see the Doctor.

Sub.
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?

Drug.
Yes, Sir.

Sub.
A seller of tobacco?

Drug.
Yes, Sir.

Sub.
Umh.
Free of the Grocers?

Drug.
Yes, I'm free of the Grocers.

Sub.
Well—
Your business, Abel?

Drug.
This an't please your worship.
I am a young beginner, and am building
Of a new shop, an't like your worship, just
At corner of a street (here is the plot on't):
And I would know by art, Sir, of your worship,
Which way I should make my door, by necromancy,
And where my shelves; and which should be for boxes,
And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, Sir.
And I was wish'd 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 them.

Enter Face.
Face.
What! my honest Abel?
Thou art well met here.

Drug.
Troth, Sir, I was speaking
Just as your worship came here, of your worship.
I pray you speak for me to master doctor.

Face.
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.

Drug.
No, I never sophisticate it.

Face.
Nor wrap it up in piss'd clouts.

Drug.
Oh, fye for shame, Captain.

Face.
He's a neat, spruce, honest fellow, and no goldsmith.

Drug.
No, I am no goldsmith.

Sub.
He's a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on—

Face.
Already, Sir, ha'you found it! Lo'thee, Abel!

Sub.
And in right way towards riches—

Face.
Sir.

Sub.
This summer
He will be of the cloathing of his company,
And next spring call'd to the scarlet, spend what he can.

Face.
What, and so little beard?

Sub.
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.

Face.
'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soon?
I am amaz'd 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 chesnut, or your olive colour'd 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.

Face.
Which finger's that?

Sub.
His little finger. Look,
You were born upon a Wednesday?

Drug.
‘Yes, indeed, Sir,’ and so I was.

Sub.
The thumb in Chiromancy, we give Venus;
The fore-finger, 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 foreshew'd
He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance.

Face.
Why this is strange? Is't not, honest Nab?

Drug.
Yes, very strange.

Sub.
There is a ship now, coming from Ormus,
That shall yield him such a commodity
Of drugs—Come hither, Abel;
This is the west, and this is the south.

Drug.
Yes, Sir.

Sub.
And those are your two sides?

Drug.
Ay, Sir.

Sub.
Make me your door then south; your broadside, west:
And, on the east-side of your shop, aloft,
Write Mathlai, Tarmael, and Baraborat:
Upon the north-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel.
They are the names of those Mercurial spirits,
That do fright flies from boxes.

Drug.
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.

Face.
That's a secret, Nab.

Sub.
And, on your stall, a puppet, with a vice,
And a court-fucus to call city-dames.
You shall deal much with minerals,

Drug.
Sir, I have
At home, already.

Sub.
Ay, I know, you have, Arsnike,
Vitriol, Salt-tartre, Argale, 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.

Face.
Why, how now, Abel! is this true?

Drug.
Good Captain,
What must I give?

Face.
Nay, I'll not counsel thee.
Thou hear'st what wealth (he says spend what thou canst)
Th'art like to come to.

Drug.
I would give him a crown.

Face.
A crown! and towards such a fortune? Heart,
Thou shalt rather gi' him thy shop. No gold about thee?

Drug.
Yes, I have a Portague, I have kept this half year,
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
Does raise him in the world.

Drug.
I would intreat
Another favour of his worship.

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.

Sub.
And a direction for his shelves.

Face.
Now, Nab,
Art thou well pleased, Nab?

Drug.
Thank, Sir, both your worships,
I am a made man.

[Exit.
Face.
Away.
Why, now you smoaky persecutor of nature!
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?

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—

Dol.
Why, what's the matter?

Sub.
Oh, I did look for him
With the sun's 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, talk'd, as he were possess'd,
‘And now he's dealing pieces on't away.
‘Methinks I see him entering ordinaries,
‘Dispensing for the pox, and plaguy houses,
‘Reaching his dose, walking Moorfields for lepers,
‘Searching the spittle, 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.