Face. Softly, sir; speak softly. I meant To have told your worship all. This must not hear. 550 Face. You are very right, sir; she is a most rare scholar, And is gone mad with studying Broughton's works.1 If you but name a word touching the Hebrew She falls into her fit, and will discourse So learnedly of genealogies, As you would run mad, too, to hear her, sir. Mam. How might one do t'have conference with her, Lungs? Face. Oh, divers have run mad upon the conference : I do not know, sir. I am sent in haste To fetch a vial. Sur. Be not gull'd, Sir Mammon. Mam. Wherein? Pray ye, be patient. Sur. Yes, as you are, And trust confederate knaves and sharks and bawds. Mam. You are too foul, believe it.—Come here, Ulen, One word. Face. I dare not, in good faith. Mam. Stay, knave. Face. He is extreme angry that you saw her, sir. 560 [Going. 570 Mam. Drink that (gives him money). What is she when she's out of her fit? Face. Oh, the most affablest creature, sir! So merry! So pleasant! She'll mount you up like quicksilver Over the helm, and circulate like oil, A very vegetal; discourse of state, Of mathematics, frolic, anything Mam. Is she no way accessible? no means, 1 A celebrated divine and Hebrew scholar in Elizabeth's time. No trick to give a man a taste of her wit Or so? Sub. (within). Ulen! Face. I'll come to you again, sir. Mam. Surly, I did not think one of your breeding Would traduce personages of worth. Sur. Sir Epicure, Your friend to use; yet still loth to be gulled: I do not like your philosophical bawds. Their stone is lechery enough to pay for Mam. 'Heart, you abuse yourself. I know the lady, and her friends, and means, Sur. And yet you never saw her Till now! Mam. Oh yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it, One of the treacherousest memories, I do think, Of all mankind. Sur. What call you her brother? Mam. My lord He will not have his name known, now I think on it. Sur. A very treacherous memory! Mam. On my faith Sur. Tut, if you have it not about you, pass it Till we meet next. Mam. Nay, by this hand, 'tis true, He's one I honour, and my noble friend; Sur. Heart! can it be That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need, 580 [Exit. 590 600 A wise, sir, too, at other times, should thus, With his own oaths and arguments, make hard means Your lapis mineralis and your lunary, Give me your honest trick yet at primero, Or gleek:1 and take your lutum sapientis, Your menstruum simplex! I'll have gold before you, Or the hot sulphur. Re-enter FACE. Face. Here's one from Captain Face, sir (to SURLY), Desires you meet him in the Temple Church 610 620 Some half-hour hence, and upon earnest business. and come Again within two hours, you shall have My master busy examining o' the works; And I will steal you in unto the party, That you may see her converse. Sir, shall I say You'll meet the captain's worship? Sur. Sir, I will. But, by attorney and to a second purpose, [Walks aside. I'll swear it, were the marshal here to thank me : 630 The naming this commander doth confirm it. To all the quainter traffickers in town! He is the visitor, and does appoint Who visits whom, and at what hour; what price; 1 A game of cards. Which gown, and in what smock; what fall1; what tire. The subtleties of this dark labyrinth : Which if I do discover, dear Sir Mammon, You'll give your poor friend leave, though no philosopher, To laugh for you that are, 'tis thought, shall weep. Face. Sir, he does pray you'll not forget. Sur. I will not, sir. Sir Epicure, I shall leave you. 640 [Exit. Mam. I follow you straight. Face. But do so, good sir, to avoid suspicion. This gentleman has a parlous head. Mam. But wilt thou, Ulen, Be constant to thy promise? Face. As my life, sir. 650 Mam. And wilt thou insinuate what I am, and praise me, And say I am a noble fellow? Face. Oh, what else, sir? And that you'll make her royal with the stone, An empress and yourself, King of Bantam. Mam. Wilt thou do this? May busy himself about projection. Mam. Thou hast witch'd me, rogue: take, go. And the weights too. Slave, I could bite thine ear. Away, thou dost not care for me. Face. Not I, sir! Mam. Come, I was born to make thee, my good weasel, Set thee on a bench, and have thee twirl a chain With the best lord's vermin of 'em all. Face. Away, sir. Mam. A count, nay, a count palatine Face. Good, sir, go. Mam. Shall not advance thee better: no, nor faster. Re-enter SUBTLE and DOL. Sub. Has he bit? has he bit? Face. And swallowed too, my Subtle. I have given him line, and now he plays, i' faith. Face. Thorough both the gills. For here is a rare bait, with which a man No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad. 671 [Exit. Sub. Dol, my Lord What's'hums sister, you must now Bear yourself statelich. Dol. Oh, let me alone. I'll not forget my race, I warrant you. I'll keep my distance, laugh and talk aloud; Have all the tricks of a proud scurvy lady, And be as rude as her woman. Face. Well said, sanguine! Sub. But will he send his andirons? Face. His jack too, And's iron shoeing-horn; I have spoke to him. Well, 680 690 |