Face. That he fhall, Nab.

Leave it, it shall be done, 'gainst afternoon.

Sub. And a direction for his fhelves.

Face. Now, Nab,

Art thou well pleased, Nab?

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

Face. Away.

Why, now you fmoaky perfecutor of nature!
Now do you fee, that fomething's to be done,
Befide your beech-coal, and your cor'five waters,
• Your crofslets, crucibles, and cucurbites?

[Exit.

• You must have stuff, brought home to you, to work on ? And yet, you think, I am at no expence

In fearching out thefe veins, then following them,
Then trying them out. 'Fore God, my intelligence
Cofts me more money than my fhare oft comes to
In these rare works.

Sub. You are pleasant, Sir.-How now ?
Enter Dol.

Face. What fays my dainty Dolkin ?
Dol. Yonder fish-wife

Will not away. And there's your giantefs,
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 fpied 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 prefently make ready, too-
Dol. Why, what's the matter?

Sub. Oh, I did look for him

་

With the fun's rifing: marvel, he could fleep!
This is the day I am to perfect for him
The Magifterium, our Great-Work, the Stone;
And yield it, made into his hands; of which,
He has, this month, talk'd, as he were poffefs'd,
ཇ And now he's dealing pieces on't away.

• Methinks

,

• Methinks I fee him entering ordinaries,
Difpenfing for the pox, and plaguy houses,
Reaching his dofe, walking Moorfields for lepers,
Searching the fpittle, to make old bawds young;
And the highways, for beggars to make rich:
I fee no end of my labours. He will make
Nature afham'd of her long fleep; when art,
Who's but a step dame, fhall do more than fhe,'
He's, in belief of chymistry, fo bold,

If his dream laft, he'll turn the age to gold.

END of the FIRST ACT.

[Exeunt.

you fet

your foot on fhore

Co

In novo orbe;

here's the rich Peru:
And there within, Sir, are the golden mines,
Great Solomon's Ophir! He was failing 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 fhall be fpectatiffimi,

And have you punques, and punquetees, my Surly.
And unto thee, I speak it first, Be rich.-Face,
Where is my Subtle, there?. Within, ho!

Face. [Within.] Sir, he'll come to you, by and by.
Mam. That's his fire-drake.

His lungs, his Zephirus, he that puffs his coals,

Till he firk Nature up in her own center.

You are doubtful, Sir. This night, I'll change
All that is metal, in my houfe, to gold.

And, early in the morning, will I fend
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.

Sur. No, faith.

Mam. But when you fee the effects of the great me

You will believe me.

Sur. Yes, when I fee't, I will.
Mam. Why?

Do you think, I fable with you? I affure you,
He that has once the Flower of the Sun,
The perfect ruby, which we call Elixir,
Not only can do that, but by its virtue,
Can confer honour, love, refpect, long life,
Give safety, valour, yea, and victory,
To whom he will. In eight and twenty days,
I'll make an old man of fourscore' a child.
Sur. No doubt, he's that already.

Mam. Nay, I mean,

Reftore his years, renew him, like an eagle,

[dicine,

To the fifth age; make him get fons and daughters,

Become ftout Marfes, and beget young Cupids.

Sur. The decay'd veftals of Drury-Lane would thank

That keep the fire alive there.

Mam. 'Tis the secret

Of Nature, naturiz'd 'gainst all infections,

Cures all diseases coming of all causes;

A month's grief in a day; a year's in twelve:
And of what age foever, in a month.

Paft all the dofes of your drugging doctors.
You're ftill incredulous.

Sur. Faith I have a humour,

I would not willingly be gull'd. Your Stone
Cannot tranfmute me.

Mam. Surly,

Will you believe antiquity? Records?

I'll fhew you a book, where Mofes, and his fifter,.
And Solomon, have written of the art;

Ay, and a treatise penn'd by Adam.

Sur. How!

[you,

Mam. O' the Philofopher's Stone, and in High Dutch. Sur. Did Adam write, Sir, in High Dutch?

Mam. He did.

Which proves it was the primitive tongue. How now?

Enter Face.

Do we fucceed? Is our day come? and holds it ?

I

Face.

Face. The evening will fet red upon you, Sir: You have colour for it, crimson: the red ferment

Has done his office; three hours hence, prepare you To fee projection.

Mam. My Surly,

Again, I fay to thee, aloud, Be rich;

This day, thou fhalt have ingots; and, to-morrow,
Give lords th' affront. Is it, my Zephirus, right?
Blushes the bolt's-head?

Face. Like a wench with child, Sir,

That were, but now, difcover'd to her master.
Mam. Excellent witty, Lungs! My only care is,
Where to get stuff enough now, to project on.
This town will not half ferve me.

Face. No, Sir? Buy

The covering off o' churches.

Mam. That's true.

Face. Yes,

Let them stand bare, as do their auditory;

Or

cap them new with shingles.

Mam. No, good thatch :

Thatch will lie light upon the rafters, Lungs.
Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace ;
I will restore thee thy complexion, Puffe,
Loft in the embers; and repair this brain,
Hurt wi' the fume o' the metals.

Face. I have blown, Sir,

Hard for your worship; these blear'd eyes
Have wak'd, to read your feveral colours, Sir;
Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,
The peacock's tail, the plumed fwan.
Mam. And lastly,

Thou haft defcry'd the flower.

Face. Yes, Sir.

Mam. Where's master?

Face. At his prayers, Sir: he,

Good man, he's doing his devotions,
For the fuccefs.

Mam. Lungs, I will fet a period

To all thy labours: thou shalt be the master

Of my Seraglio.

Face. Good, Sir.

Mam. But do you hear?

I'll geld you, Lungs.

Face. Yes,' Sir.

Mam. For I do mean

To have a lift of wives and concubines,
Equal with Solomon, who had the Stone
Alike with me: 6 and I will make me a back
With the Elixir, that fhall be as tough
As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night."
Th'art sure thou saw’st it, blood?

Face. Both blood and fpirit, Sir.

Mam. I will have all my beds blown up; not stuff'd; Down is too hard..

(Is it arriv'd at ruby?)Where I fpy

A wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,

Have a fublim'd pure wife, unto that fellow
I'll fend a thousand pounds, to be my cuckold.
Face. And fhall I carry it ?

Mam. No, I'll have no bawds,

But fathers and mothers. They will do it beft,
Best of all others. And my flatterers

Shall be the pure, and gravest of divines

That I can get for money. My meet fools,
Eloquent burgeffes.

We will be brave, Puffe, now we have the medicine.
My meat fhall all come in, in Indian fhells.

Difhes of agate fet in gold, and ftudded

With emeralds, faphirs, hyacinths, and rubies.
My foot-boy fhall eat phenfants, calver'd falmons,
Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will have.
The beards of barbels ferv'd instead of fallads;
Oil'd mushrooms, and the fwelling unctuous paps
Of a fat pregnant fow, newly cut off,'
Drefs'd with an exquifite and poignant fauce;
For which, I'll fay unto my cook, there's gold,
Go forth, and be a knight.

A little, how it heightens.

Mam. Do. My fhirts

[Exit.

I'll have of taffata-farfuet, foft and light

As cob-webs, and for all my other rayment,

It fhall be fuch as might provoke the Perfian,

Were