I have a Project to make you a Duke now.|
That you must be one, within so many Months,
As I set down, out of true Reason of State,
You sha' not avoid it. But you must harken then.
Ing. Harken? why Sir, do you doubt his Ears? Alas!
You do 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'll tell it you. (I see you ha' Credit, here,
And, that you can keep counsel, I'll not question.)
He shall but be an undertaker with me,
In a most feasible Business. It shall cost him
Nothing. Ing. Good, Sir.
Mer. Except he please, but's Countenance;
(That I will have) t'appear in't, to great Men,
For which I'll make him one. He shall not draw
A String of's Purse. I'll drive his Pattent for him.
We'll take in Citizens, Commoners, and Aldermen,
To bear the charge, and blow 'em off again,
Like so many dead Flyes, when 'tis carried.
The thing is for recovery of drown'd Land,
Whereof the Crown's to have a Moiety,
If it be Owner; Else the Crown and Owners
To share that Moiety, and the Recoverers
T'enjoy the t'other Moiety for their charge.
Ing. Throughout England? Mer. Yes, which will arise
To Eighteen Millions, Seven the first year:
I have computed all, and made my Survey
Unto my Acre: I'll begin at the Pan,
Not at the Skirts; as some ha' done, and lost
All that they wrought, their Timber-work, their Trench,
Their Banks, all born away, or else fill'd up
By the next Winter. Tut, they never went
The way: I'll have it all. Ing. A Gallant Tract
Of Land it is! Mer. 'Twill yield a Pound an Acre.
We must let cheap, ever at first. But Sir,
This looks too large for you, I see. Come hither,
We'll have a less. Here's a plain Fellow, you see him,
Has his black Bag of Papers there, in Buckram,
Wi' not be sold for th' Earldom of Pancridge: Draw,
Gi' me out one by chance. Project; four Dogs Skins?
Twelve thousand Pound! the very worst at first.
Fit. Pray you let's see't, Sir. Mer. 'Tis a Toy, a Trifle!
Fit. Trifle! Twelve thousand Pound for Dogs Skins?
Mer Yes, but, by my way of dressing, you must
And med'cining the Leather, to a height
Of improv'd Ware, like your Borachio
Of Spain, Sir, I can fetch Nine thousand for't
Ing. Of the Kings Glover?
Mer. Yes, how heard you that?
Ing. Sir, I do know you can.
Mer. Within this Hour:
And reserve half my Secret. Pluck another;
See if thou hast a happier Hand: I thought so.
[He plucks out the 2. Bottle-ale.
The very next worse to it! Bottle-ale.
Yet, this is Two and twenty thousand?
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 Sum.
I'll win it i' my Water, and my Malt,
My Furnaces, and hanging o' my Coppers,
The tonning, and the subtility o' my Yest;
And, then the Earth of my Bottles, which I dig,
Turn up, and steep, and work, and neal, my self,
To a degree of Porc'lane. You will wonder,
At my Proportions, what I will put up
In Seven years! for so long time I ask
For my Invention. I will save in Cork,
In my mere stop'ling, 'bove Three thousand Pound
Within that Term: by googing of 'em out
Just to the size of my Bottles, and not slicing.
There's infinite loss i' that. What hast thou there?
O' making Wine of Raisins: this is in hand now,
[He draws out another. Raisins.
Ing. Is not that strange, Sir, to make Wine of Raisins?
Mer. Yes, and as true a Wine as th' Wines of France,
Or Spain, or Italy: Look 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 Kingdom half in half.
Ing. But, how, Sir, if you raise the other Commodity,
Raisins? Mer. Why, then I'll make it out of Black-berries:
And it shall do the same. 'Tis but more Art,
And the Charge less. Take out another. Fit. No, good Sir,
Save you the trouble. I'll not look, nor hear
Of any, but your first, there: the Drown'd-land:
If't will do, as you say. Mer. Sir, there's not Place
To gi' you demonstration of these things,
They are a little to subtile. But, I could shew you
Such a necessity in't, as you must be,
But what you please: against the receiv'd Heresie,
That England bears no Dukes. Keep you the Land, Sir,
The greatness of th' Estate shall throw't upon you.
If you like better turning it to Money,
VVhat may not you, Sir, 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 Divident,
Lay, for some petty Principality,
In Italy, from the Church: Now, you perhaps,
Fancy the Smoak of England, rather? But
Ha' you no private Room, Sir, to draw to,
T' enlarge our selves more upon? Fit. O yes, Divel!
Mer. These, Sir, are Businesses, ask to be carried
With caution, and in Cloud. Fit. I apprehend,
They do so, Sir. Divel, which way is your Mistris?
Pug. Above, Sir, in her Chamber. Fit. O that's well.
Then, this way, good Sir.
Mer. I shall follow you; Trains,
Gi' me the Bag, and go you presently,
Commend my Service to my Lady Tailbush.
Tell her I am come from Court this Morning; say,
I have got our business mov'd, and well: Intreat her,
That she give you the Four-score Angels, and see 'em
Dispos'd of to my Council, Sir Poul Eitherside.
Sometime, to day, I'll wait upon her Ladiship,
With the Relation. Ing. Sir, of what dispatch,
He is! Do you mark? Mer. Ingine, when did you see
My Cousin Ever-ill?keeps he still your Quarter
I' the Bermudas? Ing. Yes, Sir, he was writing
This morning, very hard. Mer. Be not you known to
That I am come to Town: I have effected
A Business for him, but I would have 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
Infinite pains. Mer. I love Friends, to be active:
A sluggish Nature puts off Man, and kind.
Ing. And such a Blessing follows it. Mer. I thank
My Fate. Pray you let's be private, Sir. Fit. In, here.
Mer. Where none may interrupt us.
Fit. You hear, Divel,
Lock the Street-doors fast, and let no one in
(Except they be this Gentlemans Followers)
To trouble me. Do you mark? Yo' have heard and seen
Something to day; and, by it, you may gather
Your Mistris is a Fruit, that's worth the stealing,
And therefore worth the watching. Be you sure, now,
Yo' have all your Eyes about you; and let in
No Lace-woman; nor Bawd, that brings French-Masks,
And Cut-works. See you? Nor old Croans, with
To convey Letters. Nor no youths, disguis'd
Like Country-wives, with Cream, and Marrow-puddings.