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. Oh, I did look for him

With the sun's 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 talked, as he were possessed.
He's in belief of chemistry so bold,

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

Enter MAMMON and SURLY.

Mam. Come 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 sailing to't
Three years, but we have reached 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,

And have your 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 centre.
You are doubtful, sir. This night, I'll change
All that is metal, in my house, to gold.
And, early in the morning, will I send
To all the plumbers, and the pewterers,

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,

Restore his years, renew him, like an eagle,
To the fifth age; make him get sons and daugh-
ters,

Become stout Marses, and beget young cupids. Sur. The decayed vestals of Drury-Lane would thank you,

That keep the fire alive there.
Mum. Tis the secret

Of Nature, naturized '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 soever, in a month.
Past all the dozes of your drugging doctors.

You're still incredulous?

Sur. Faith I have a humour,

I would not willingly be gulled. Your stone
Cannot transmute me.

Mam. Surly,

bury,

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 the effects of the great medicine,

You will believe me?

Sur. Yes, when I see it, I will.

Mam. Why,

Do you think, I fable with you? I assure 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, respect, long life,

Sur. How!

row,

Give lords the affront. Is it, my Zephirus, right? Blushes the bolt's-head?

Face. Like a wench with child, sir, That were, but now, discovered 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 serve 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.

Mum. 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, Lost in the embers; and repair this brain, Hurt wi' the fume o' the metals.

Face. I have blown, sir,

Hard for your worship; these bleared eyes
Have waked, to read your several colours, sir;
Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,
The peacock's tail, the plumed swan.
Mam. And lastly,

Thou hast descryed the flower?
Face. Yes, sir.

Mam. Where's master?

Face. At his prayers, sir: he,

Good man, he's doing his devotions,
For the success,

Mam. Lungs, I will set a period

To all thy labours: thou shalt be the master

Of my seraglio.

For I do mean

To have a list of wives and concubines,

Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me:

Thou art sure thou saw'st it, blood?

Face. Both blood and spirit, sir.

stuffed;

Down is too hard.

(Is it arrived at ruby?)

Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,
Have a sublimed pure wife, unto that fellow
I'll send a thousand pounds, to be my cuckold.
Face. And shall I carry it?
Mam. No, I'll have no bawds,

But fathers and mothers. They will do it best,
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 burgesses.

We will be brave, Puffe, now we have the medicine.

My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells. Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded With emeralds, saphirs, hyacinths, and rubies.

This argues something, worthy of a fear

Of importune, and carnal appetite;

Take heed, you do not cause the blessing leave

Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief
Toward your stone; would not be gulled.
Sub. Well, son.

All, that I can convince him in, is this:
The work is done; bright Sol is in his robe.
We have a medicine of the triple soul;
Thanks be to Heaven,

And make us worthy of it! Ulen Spigel!
Face. [Within.] Anon, sir.

Sub. Look well to the register,

And let your heat still lessen by degrees,
To the Aludels.

And bring me the complexion of glass B.
Face. I will, sir.

Sur. What a brave language here is! next to canting!

Sub. I have another work, you never saw, son, That three days since passed the philosopher's wheel,

In the lent heat of Athanor; and is become
Sulphur of Nature.

Mam. But 'tis for me?

Sub. What need you?

You have enough, in that is perfect.

Sub. Son, be not hasty. I exalt our medicine,

By hanging him in balneo vaporoso,

And giving him solution, then congeal him,

And then dissolve him, then again congeal him:

For look, how oft I iterate the work,

So many times I add unto his virtue.

Get

you your stuff here against afternoon,

Your brass, your pewter, and your andirons.
Mam. Not those of iron?

Sub. Yes, you may bring them too.

We'll change all metals.

Sur. I believe you in that.

Mam. Then I may send my spits?

Sub. Yes, and your racks.

Sur. And dripping-pans, and pot-hangers, and hooks,

Shall he not?

Sub. If he please.

Sur. To be an ass.

Sub. How, sir!

Mam. This gentleman you must bear withal. I told you, he had no faith.

Sur. And little hope, sir;

But much less charity, should I gull myself.
Sub. Why, what have you observed, sir, in our art,
Seems so impossible?

Sur. But your whole work, no more.
That you should hatch gold in a furnace, sir,
As they do eggs
in Egypt!

Mam. What's the matter, good sir?

I have not seen you thus distempered? Who is't? Sub. All arts have still had, sir, their adversaries;

But ours the most ignorant. What now?

[FACE returns. Face. 'Twas not my fault, sir; she would speak with you.

Sub. Would she, sir? Follow me.

Mam. Stay, Lungs.

Face. I dare not, sir.

Mam. How! Pray thee stay.

Face. She's mad, sir, and sent hither

Mam. Stay, man, what is she?
Face. A lord's sister, sir.

He'll be mad too.

silver,

Now, I am sure it is a bawdy-house;
I'll swear it, were the marshall here to thank me;
The naming this commander doth confirm it.
Don Face! why 'tis the most authentic dealer
In these commodities-The superintendant
To all the quainter traffickers in town.
Him will I prove, by a third person, to find
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

Bear yourself stately.

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 spoken to him.
Well,

I must not lose my wary gamester, yonder. Sub. Oh, monsieur Caution, that will not be gulled?

Face. Ay; if I can strike a fine hook into him, now!

The Temple Church, there I have cast mine angle. Well, pray for me; I'll about it. [One knocks. Sub. What, more gudgeons?

Dol, scout, scout! stay, Face, you must go to the [Exit FACE.

door.