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Your brass, your pewter, and your andirons.
Mam. Not those of iron ?
Sub. Yes, you may bring them too.
Sur. I believe you in that.
Sur. And dripping-pans, and pot-hangers, and hooks? Shall he not?
Sub. If he please.
Mam. This gentleman you must bear withal :
Sur. And as little hope, sir;
Sub. Why, what have you observ'd, sir, in our art, Seems so impossible ?
Sur. But your whole work, no more.
Sub. Sir, do you
Sur. If I should ?
Sub. Why, I think that the
Sur. That cannot be.
Sub. The same we say of lead, and other metals, Which would be gold, if they had time. 19 That you should ba th gold in a furnace, fir,
As they do eggs in Ægypt.) Besides the accounts given us by Sandys and other later travellers, of the manner of hatching chickens at Grand Cairo, the reader may consult an exact rela 1737. the celebrated Mr. John Greaves, ad vol, of his works, edit.
Mam. And that
Sub. I, for 'twere absurd
Sur, I, what is that?
Mam. I, now it heats: stand father,
Sub. It is, of the one part;
Seeds of them, by our fire, and gold in them ;
Mam. Well said, father!
Sur. Pray you, fir, stay.
Sur. What else are all your terms,
white woman, With all your broths, your menstrues, and materials, Of piss and egg-shells, womens terms, mans blood, Hair o'th' head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay, Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass, And worlds of other strange ingredients, Would burit a man to name? Sub. And all these nam'd,
Intending but one thing; which art our writers
Mam. Sir, so I told him,
Sub. Was not all the knowledge
Mam. I urg'd that,
[Dol is seen. Sub.God's precious-What do you mean? go in good Let me entreat you. Where's this varlet? [lady,
Fac. Sir ?
Mam. What's the matter, good sir?
Sub. All arts have still had, sir, their adversaries; But ours the most ignorant. What now?
[Face returns. Fac. 'Twas not my fault, sir; she would speak with Sub. Would she, fir? Follow me.
[you. Mom. Stay, lungs. Fac. I dare not, fir. Mam. How !
pray Fac. She's mad, sir, and sent hitlerMam. Stay man, what is the ?
Fac. A lord's fifter, sir. (He'll be mad too.
Mam. I warrant thee.)
Fac. Sir, to be cur'd.
(He goes out. Mam. 'Fore God, a Bradamante, a brave piece". Sur. Heart, this is a bawdy-house! I'll be burnt else.
Mam. O, by this light, no. Do not wrong him. H'is Too scrupulous that way. It is his vice. No, h’is a rare physician, do him right, An excellent Paracelsian, and has done Strange cures with mineral physick. He deals all With spirits, he. He will not hear a word Of Galen, or his tedious Recipe's. How now, lungs !
[Face again. Fac. Softly, sir, speak softly. I meant To ha' told your worship all. This must not hear.
Mam. No, he will not be gulld: let him alone.
Fac. Y’are very right, sir, she is a most rare scholar, And is gone mad with studying Broughton's works**. 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, fir. [lungs?
Mam.How might one do' t' have conference with her,
Fac. O divers have run mad upon the conference. I do not know, fir : I am sent in haste, To fetch a vial.
Sur. Be not gullid, fir Mammon.
19 'Fore God, a BRADAMANTE.) An heroine in Orlando Furiolo.
20 She is gone mad with Audying BROUGHTON's works. ] Mr. Hugh Broughton, a celebrated rabbinin Queen Elizabeth's days, and a great publisher. See STRYP W’hitgift, and Annals of Queen Elizabeth, vol. 2
Dr. GREY, VOL. III.