Face. He is extreme angry that you saw her, sir. 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 quick-silver, Over the helm; and circulate, like oil, A very vegetal: discourse of state, Of mathematics, bawdry, any thing Mam. Is she no ways accessible? No means, No trick to give a man a taste of her-wit- 420 Or so ? [Sub. within.] Ulen. Face. I'll come to you again, sir, [Exit 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 gull'd. I do not like your philosophical bawds. Their Stone is enough to pay for, Without this bait. 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? 440 Mam. My Lord He will not have his name known, now I think on't, Sur. A very treacherous memory! Sur. Tut, if you ha' 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, And I respect his house. Sur. Heart! can it be, That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need, A wise sir, too, at other times, should thus, With his own oaths and arguments, make hard means To gull himself; "An this be your elixir, "Your lapis mineralis, and your lunary, "Give me your honest trick yet at primero ; "I'll have gold before you, "And with less danger of the quick-silver, "Or the hot sulphur." Enter FACE. 461 Face. Here's one from captain Face, sir, [To Surly. Desires you to meet him i' the Temple Church, Some half hour hence, and upon earnest business. Sir, if you please to quit us now, and come [He whispers Mammon. Again within two hours, you shall have Sir, shall I say You'll meet the captain's worship? Sur. Sir, I will. Now, I am sure it is a bawdy-house; [Exit Face. "I'll swear it, were the marshal here to thank me;" 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. 480 Enter FACE. Face. Sir, he does pray, you'll not forget. Sur. I will not, sir. Sir Epicure, I shall leave you. Mam. I follow you, straight. Face. But do so, good sir, to avoid suspicion : This gent'man has a parlous head. Mam. But wilt thou, Ulen, Be constant to thy promise? Face. As my life, sir. [Exit. Mam. And wilt thou insinuate what I am, and And say praise me, I am a noble fellow ? Face. Oh, what else, sir? And that you'll make her royal, with the Stone, 2 An empress, and yourself King of Bantam. Mam. Wilt thou do this? Face. Will I, sir! Mam. Lungs, my Lungs! I love thee. Face. Send your stuff, sir, that my master May busy himself about projection. 500 Mam. Th' hast witch'd me, rogue! Take, go. Face. Your jack and all, sir. Mam. Thou art a villain-I will send my jack, 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 ha' thee twirl a chain With the best lord's vermin of them all. Face. Away, sir. Mam. A count, nay, a count-palatine Face. Good sir, go. Mam. Shall not advance thee better; no, nor faster. [Exit Mam. Enter SUBTLE and DoL. Sub. Has he bit? Has he bit? Face. And swallow'd too, my Subtle. I ha' given him line, and now he plays, i'faith. Face. Thorough both the gills. A wench is a rare bait, "with which a man "No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad. 520 Sub. Dol, my Lord What'shum's sister, you must now Bear yourself statelich. Dol. Oh, let me alone. I'll not forget my race, I warrant you. And be as rude as her woman, Face. Well said, Sanguine, Sub. But will he send his andirons ? And's iron shoeing-horn; I ha' spoken to him. Well, Sub. Oh, monsieur Caution, that will not be gull'd? 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? door. Dol, scout, scout? stay, Face, you must go to the [Exit Face. Pray Heaven it be my Anabaptist. Who is't, Dol? Dol. I know him not. He looks like an end of gold and silver-man, Sub. God's-so! 'tis he; he said he would send What call you him? The sanctified elder, that should deal 540 For Mammon's jack and andirons-Let him in. Stay, And help me off with my gown- -Away, Madam, to your withdrawing chamber. Now, F [Exit Dol. |