The ring, to Sol; the least, to Mercury:|
Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope,
His house of life being Libra; which fore-shew'd,
He should be a Merchant, and should trade with Ballance.
Fac. Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?
Sub. There is a Ship now, coming from Ormus,
That shall yield him, such a commodity
Of drugs This is the West, and this the South?
Dru. Yes, Sir. Sub. And those are your two sides?
Dru. I, Sir.
Sub. Make me your Door, then, South; your Broad-
And, on the East-side of your Shop, aloft,
Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;
Upon the North-part, Rael, Velel, Thiel.
They are the names of those Mercurial Spirits,
That do fright Flyes from Boxes. Dru. Yes, Sir. Sub. And
Beneath your threshold, bury me a Load-stone
To draw in Gallants, that wear Spurs: The rest,
They'll seem to follow. Fac. 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. Dru. Sir, I have
At home, already Sub. I, I know, you have Arsnike,
Vitriol, Sal-tartre, Argaile, 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 Philosophers stone.
Fac. Why, how now, Abel! is this true? Dru. Good
What must I give? Fac. Nay, I'll not counsel thee.
Thou hear'st what Wealth (he says, spend what thou
Th'art like to come too. Dru. I would gi' him a Crown.
Fac. A Crown! and toward such a Fortune? Heart,
Thou shalt rather gi' him thy Shop. No Gold about thee?
Dru. Yes, I have a Portague, I ha' kept this half year.
Fac. Out on thee, Nab. 'Slight, there was such an offer
'Shalt keep't no longer, I'll gi' it him for thee?
Doctor, Nab prays your Worship to drink this, and
He will appear more grateful, as your skill
Do's raise him in the World. Dru. I would intreat
Another favour of his Worship. Fac. What is't, Nab?
Dru. But, to look over, Sir, my Almanack,
And cross out my ill-days, that I may neither
Bargain, nor trust upon them. Fac. That he shall Nab.
Leave it, it shall be done, 'gainst Afternoon.
Sub. And a direction for his Shelves. Fac. Now, Nab?
Art thou well pleas'd, Nab? Dru. 'Thank, Sir, both your
Why, now you smoky persecuter of Nature!
Now do you see, that some-thing'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 'em,
Then trying 'em out. 'Fore God, my intelligence
Cost me more Money, than my share oft comes too,
In these rare Works. Sub. You'are pleasant, Sir. How now?
Act I. Scene IV.
Face, Dol, Subtle.
Hat 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 'em.
Dol. Not afore night, I have told 'em, in a Voice,
Thorough 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. O, I did look for him
With the Suns 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,
Me thinks I see him entring Ordinaries,
Dispensing for the Pox, and Plaguy-houses,
Reaching his Dose, walking Moore-fields for Lepers,
And offering Citizens-wives Pomander-braclets,
As his perservative, made of the Elixir;
Searching the Spittle, to make old Bawds young;
And the High-ways, for Beggars, to make rich:
I see no end of his Labours. He will make
Nature asham'd, of her long sleep: when Art,
Who's but a Step-dame, shall do more than she,
In her best to love to Mankind, ever could.
If his Dream last, he'll turn the Age to Gold.
Act II. Scene I.
Ome on, Sir. Now, you set your Foot on Shore
In novo Orbe; Here's the rich Peru:
And there within, Sir, are the Golden Mines,
Great Solomon's Ophir! He was sayling to't,
Three years, but we have reach'd it in ten Months.
This is the day, wherein, to all my Friends,
I will pronounce the happy word, Be Rich.
This day you shall be spectatissimi.
You shall no more deal with the hollow Dye,
Or the frail Card. No more be at charge of keeping
The Livery-punk, for the young Heir, that must
Seal, at all Hours, in his Shirt. No more,
If he deny, ha' him beaten to't, as he is
That brings him the Commodity. No more
Small thirst of Sattin, or the Covetous hunger
Of Velvet Entrails, for a rude-spun Cloke,
To be displaid at Madam Augusta's, make
The Sons of Sword, and Hazzard fall before
The Golden Calf, and on their Knees, whole Nights,
Commit Idolatry with Wine, and Trumpets:
Or go a feasting, after Drum and Ensign.
No more of this. You shall start up young Vice-rois,
And have your Punques, and Punquetees, my Surly.
And unto thee, I speak it first, Be Rich.
Where is my Subtle, there? Within hough?
He'll come to you, by and by.
Mam. That's his Fire-drake,
His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffs his Coals,
Till he firk Nature up, in her own Center.
You are not faithful, Sir. This night, I'll change
All, that is Metal, in thy House, to Gold.
And, early in the Merning, will I send
To all the Plumbers, and the Pewterers,
And buy their Tin, and Lead up: and to Lothbury,
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 admire now?
Sur. No faith. Mam. But when you see th' effects
of the great Medicine!
Of which one part projected on a hundred
Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon,
Shall turn it to as many of the Sun;
Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum:
You will believe me. Sur. Yes, when I see't, I will.
But, if my Eyes do cozen me so (and I