Out at my

Face.

Dol.

What to do? Lick figs

4

Rogue, rogue, out of all your sleights. Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen? Subt. 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.

All that the tailor has made, if you approach.

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

Subt.

Face.

Yes, faith! yes, faith!

Am I, my mongrel? Who am I?

Subt.

Since you know not yourself.

Why, who

I'll tell you,

ΙΟ

Face.

Speak lower, rogue.

16

Subt. Yes, you were once (time's not long past) the good, Honest, plain, livery three-pound-thrum, that kept Your master's worship's house here in the Friars, For the vacations

Face.

Subt.

Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain. Face. By your means, doctor dog?

Will you be so loud?

Subt.

Within man's memory,

All this I speak of.

Why, I pray you, have I

21

Face.

Been countenanced by you, or you by me?
Do but collect, sir, where I met you first.
Subt. I do not hear well.
Face.
Not of this, I think it.
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 pinched-horn nose,
And your complexion of the Roman wash,
Stuck full of black and melancholic worms,
Like powder-corns shot at th' artillery-yard.
Subt. I wish you could advance voice a little.
Face. When you went pinned up in the several rags
You had raked and picked from dunghills, before day;
Your feet in mouldy slippers, for

your

your kibes,

A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloak,
That scarce would cover your no-buttocks-

25

30

35

Subt.
Face.

So, sir!

When all your alchemy, and your algebra,
Your minerals, vegetals, and animals,

Your conjuring, coz'ning, and your dozen of trades,
Could not relieve your corps with so much linen
Would make you tinder, but to see a fire;
I gave you countenance, credit for your coals,
Your stills, your glasses, your materials;
Built you a furnace, drew you customers,
Advanced all your black arts; lent

A house to practise in

Subt.

you, beside,

Your master's house!

Face. Where you have studied the more thriving skill Of bawdry since.

Subt.

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 buttry-hatch still locked, and save the chippings,
Sell the dole beer to aqua-vitæ men,

up house.

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
Face. You might talk softlier, rascal.
Subt.
No, you
I'll thunder you in pieces: I will teach you
How to beware to tempt a Fury again,

40

45

50

55

scarab.

60

No, your clothes.—

That carries tempest in his hand and voice.
Face. The place has made you valiant.
Subt.
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 watering pots,
Sublimed thee, and exalted thee, and fixed thee
In the third region, called the high state of grace?
Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains
Would twice have won me the philosopher's work?
Put thee in words and fashion? made thee fit
For more than ordinary fellowships?

Giv'n thee thy oaths, thy quarrelling dimensions?
Thy rules to cheat at horse-race, cock-pit, cards,
Dice, or whatever gallant tincture else?
Made thee a second in mine own great art?

And have I this for thanks? Do

Do you rebel?
Do you fly out i' the projection?
Would you be gone
Dol.

Would you mar all?

now?

65

70

75

Gentlemen, what mean you? 80

Subt.
Slave, thou hadst had no name-
Dol. Will you undo yourselves with civil war?
Subt. Never been known, past equi clibanum,
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,

85

Had not I been.
Dol.

Face. Sirrah

Dol.

Face.
Subt.

Do

Nay, general, I thought that you were civil-
I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus loud.
And hang thyself, I care not.

Face.
And all thy pots and pans, in picture, I will,

Hang thee, collier,

91

Since thou hast moved me

Dol.

Face. Write thee up bawd in Paul'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 a face cut for thee,
Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's!

Dol.

Have you your senses, masters?

Face.

Are you sound?

I will have

A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures,
Shall prove a true philosopher's stone to printers.
Subt. Away, you trencher-rascal !

Face.

The vomit of all prisons

Dol.

95

100

Your own destructions, gentlemen?

Face.