Dol. And last Gog-dust, and Egypt-dust, which fall In the last link of the fourth chain. And these

Be stars in story, which none see or look at
Mam. What shall I do?

Dol. For, as he says, except

We call the rabins, and the heathen Greeks

Mam. Dear lady.

Dol. To come from Salem, and from Athens, And teach the people of Great-Britain――――

Enter FACE.

Face. What's the matter, sir.

Dol. To speak the tongue of Eber and Javan

Mam. Oh, she's in her fit.

Del. We shall know nothing

Face. Death, sir,

We are undone. My master will hear!

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"Dol. A wisdom, which Pythagoras held most

high

"Mam. Sweet honourable lady.

"Dol. To comprize

"All sounds of voices in few marks of letters“Face. Nay, you must never hope to lay her now. "Dol. And so we may arrive by Talmud skill, "And profane Greek, to raise the building up "Of Helen's house against the Ismaelite,

"King of Thogarma, and his Habergions

"

Brimstony, blue, and fiery; and the force

"Of king Abaddon, and the beast of Cittim, “Which rabbi David Kimchi, Omkelos,

480

"And Aben Ezra do interpret Rome.

"Face. How did you put her into't? "Mam. Alas, I talk'd

"Of a fifth monarchy I would erect,

"[They speak together.

"With the philosopher's stone (by chance) and she "Falls on the other four straight.

"Face. Out of Broughton.

"I told you so. 'Slid, stop her mouth.

"Mam. Is't best.

"Face. She'll never leave else. If the old man hear her,

"We are but faces, ashes."

Sub. [within.] What's to do there?

Face. Oh,we are lost. Now she hears him, she is quiet. Mam. Where shall I hide me ?

[Upon Subtle's entry they disperse.

Sub. How, what sight is here!

Close deeds of darkness, and that shun the light! 500
Bring him again; who is he?-What, my son !
Oh, I have liv'd too long.

Mam. Nay, good, dear father,

There was no unchaste purpose.

Guilt, guilt, my son. Give it the right name. No marvel

If I found check in our great work within,
When such affairs as these were managing!

Mam. Why, have you so ?

Sub. It has stood still this half hour;

And all the rest of our less works gone back.
Where is the instrument of wickedness,

My lewd false drudge ?

Mam. Nay, good sir, blame not him;
Believe me, 'twas against his will, or knowledge.
I saw her by chance.

Sub. Will you commit more sin
T'excuse a varlet?

Mam. By my hope, 'tis true, sir.

Sub. Nay, then I wonder less, if you for whom

520

The blessing was prepared, would so tempt heaven; And lose your fortunes.

Mam. Why, sir?

Sub. This 'll retard

The work, a month at least.

Mam. Why, if it do,

What remedy? but think it not, good father:

Our purposes were honest.

Sub. As they were,

So the reward will prove. [A great crack and noise within.]
How now! Ay me.

God, and all saints be good to us! What's that?
Face. Oh, sir, we are defeated: all the works

Are flown in fumo :

Retorts, receivers, pellicanes, bolt-heads,

All struck in shivers! Help, good sir! alas!

[Subtle falls down as in a swoon.

Coldness and death invade him. Nay, șir Mammon,

K

Do the fair office of a man! You stand,

As you were readier to depart than he.

540

[One knocks.

Who's there? My Lord, her brother is come.

Mam. Ha, Lungs?

Face. His coach is at the door. Avoid his sight, For he's as furious as his sister is mad. [One knocks.

Mam. Alas!

Face. My brain is quite undone with the fume, sir. I ne'er must hope to be mine own man again.

Mam. Is all lost, Lungs? Will nothing be preserv'd, Of all our cost?

Face. Faith, very little, sir:

A peck of coals or so, which is cold comfort, sir. Mam. Oh, my voluptuous mind! I'm justly punish'd. Face. And so am I, sir.

Mam. Cast from all my hopes

Face. Nay, certainties, sir.

Mam. By mine own base affections.

Sub. Oh, the curs'd fruits of vice and lust!

Over us still, and will not fall, Oh justice !

Upon us, for this wicked man?

Face. Nay, look, sir,

You grieve him now with staying in his sight:

Good sir, the nobleman will come too, and take you,

And that may breed a tragedy.

Mam. I'll go.

Face. Ay, and repent at home, sir. It may be,
For some good penance you may have it yet;
A hundred pounds to the box at Bethlem.
Mam. Yes.

Face. For the restoring such as ha' lost their wits. Mam. I'll do't.

Face. I'll send one to you to receive it.

Mam. Do.

Is no projection left?

Face. All flown, or stinks, sir.

Mam. Will nought be sav'd that's good for med'cine, think'st thou ?

Face. I cannot tell, sir. There will be, perhaps, Something, about the scraping of the shards,

Will cure the itch:

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It shall be sav'd for you, and sent home. Good sir. This way, for fear the lord should meet you.

Sub. Face.

Face. Ay.

Sub. Is he gone?

Face. Yes, and as heavily

[Exit Mammon.

As all the gold he hop'd for were in his blood.

Let us be light though.

Sub. Ay, as balls, and bound

And hit our heads against the roof for joy
There's so much of our care now cast away.

Face. Now to our don.

Sub. Yes, your young widow, by this time,