Part 6

SUB. Ods so! 'tis he, he said he would send what call you him? The sanctified elder, that should deal For Mammon's jack and andirons. Let him in. Stay, help me off, first, with my gown. [EXIT FACE WITH THE GOWN.] Away, Madam, to your withdrawing chamber. [EXIT DOL.] Now, In a new tune, new gesture, but old language.-- This fellow is sent from one negociates with me About the stone too, for the holy brethren Of Amsterdam, the exiled saints, that hope To raise their discipline by it. I must use him In some strange fashion, now, to make him admire me.-- [ENTER ANANIAS.] [ALOUD.] Where is my drudge?

[RE-ENTER FACE.]

FACE. Sir!

SUB. Take away the recipient, And rectify your menstrue from the phlegma. Then pour it on the Sol, in the cucurbite, And let them macerate together.

FACE. Yes, sir. And save the ground?

SUB. No: terra damnata Must not have entrance in the work.--Who are you?

ANA. A faithful brother, if it please you.

SUB. What's that? A Lullianist? a Ripley? Filius artis? Can you sublime and dulcify? calcine? Know you the sapor pontic? sapor stiptic? Or what is homogene, or heterogene?

ANA. I understand no heathen language, truly.

SUB. Heathen! you Knipper-doling? is Ars sacra, Or chrysopoeia, or spagyrica, Or the pamphysic, or panarchic knowledge, A heathen language?

ANA. Heathen Greek, I take it.

SUB. How! heathen Greek?

ANA. All's heathen but the Hebrew.

SUB. Sirrah, my varlet, stand you forth and speak to him, Like a philosopher: answer in the language. Name the vexations, and the martyrisations Of metals in the work.

FACE. Sir, putrefaction, Solution, ablution, sublimation, Cohobation, calcination, ceration, and Fixation.

SUB. This is heathen Greek to you, now!-- And when comes vivification?

FACE. After mortification.

SUB. What's cohobation?

FACE. 'Tis the pouring on Your aqua regis, and then drawing him off, To the trine circle of the seven spheres.

SUB. What's the proper passion of metals?

FACE. Malleation.

SUB. What's your ultimum supplicium auri?

FACE. Antimonium.

SUB. This is heathen Greek to you!--And what's your mercury?

FACE. A very fugitive, he will be gone, sir.

SUB. How know you him?

FACE. By his viscosity, His oleosity, and his suscitability.

SUB. How do you sublime him?

FACE. With the calce of egg-shells, White marble, talc.

SUB. Your magisterium now, What's that?

FACE. Shifting, sir, your elements, Dry into cold, cold into moist, moist into hot, Hot into dry.

SUB. This is heathen Greek to you still! Your lapis philosophicus?

FACE. 'Tis a stone, And not a stone; a spirit, a soul, and a body: Which if you do dissolve, it is dissolved; If you coagulate, it is coagulated; If you make it to fly, it flieth.

SUB. Enough. [EXIT FACE.] This is heathen Greek to you! What are you, sir?

ANA. Please you, a servant of the exiled brethren, That deal with widows' and with orphans' goods, And make a just account unto the saints: A deacon.

SUB. O, you are sent from master Wholesome, Your teacher?

ANA. From Tribulation Wholesome, Our very zealous pastor.

SUB. Good! I have Some orphans' goods to come here.

ANA. Of what kind, sir?

SUB. Pewter and brass, andirons and kitchen-ware, Metals, that we must use our medicine on: Wherein the brethren may have a pennyworth For ready money.

ANA. Were the orphans' parents Sincere professors?

SUB. Why do you ask?

ANA. Because We then are to deal justly, and give, in truth, Their utmost value.

SUB. 'Slid, you'd cozen else, And if their parents were not of the faithful!-- I will not trust you, now I think on it, 'Till I have talked with your pastor. Have you brought money To buy more coals?

ANA. No, surely.

SUB. No! how so?

ANA. The brethren bid me say unto you, sir, Surely, they will not venture any more, Till they may see projection.

SUB. How!

ANA. You have had, For the instruments, as bricks, and lome, and glasses, Already thirty pound; and for materials, They say, some ninety more: and they have heard since, That one at Heidelberg, made it of an egg, And a small paper of pin-dust.

SUB. What's your name?

ANA. My name is Ananias.

SUB. Out, the varlet That cozen'd the apostles! Hence, away! Flee, mischief! had your holy consistory No name to send me, of another sound, Than wicked Ananias? send your elders Hither to make atonement for you quickly, And give me satisfaction; or out goes The fire; and down th' alembics, and the furnace, Piger Henricus, or what not. Thou wretch! Both sericon and bufo shall be lost, Tell them. All hope of rooting out the bishops, Or the antichristian hierarchy, shall perish, If they stay threescore minutes: the aqueity, Terreity, and sulphureity Shall run together again, and all be annull'd, Thou wicked Ananias! [EXIT ANANIAS.] This will fetch 'em, And make them haste towards their gulling more. A man must deal like a rough nurse, and fright Those that are froward, to an appetite.

[RE-ENTER FACE, IN HIS UNIFORM, FOLLOWED BY DRUGGER.]

FACE. He is busy with his spirits, but we'll upon him.

SUB. How now! what mates, what Baiards have we here?

FACE. I told you, he would be furious.--Sir, here's Nab, Has brought you another piece of gold to look on: --We must appease him. Give it me,--and prays you, You would devise--what is it, Nab?

DRUG. A sign, sir.

FACE. Ay, a good lucky one, a thriving sign, doctor.

SUB. I was devising now.

FACE. 'Slight, do not say so, He will repent he gave you any more-- What say you to his constellation, doctor, The Balance?

SUB. No, that way is stale, and common. A townsman born in Taurus, gives the bull, Or the bull's-head: in Aries, the ram, A poor device! No, I will have his name Form'd in some mystic character; whose radii, Striking the senses of the passers by, Shall, by a virtual influence, breed affections, That may result upon the party owns it: As thus--

FACE. Nab!

SUB. He shall have "a bell," that's "Abel;" And by it standing one whose name is "Dee," In a "rug" gown, there's "D," and "Rug," that's "drug:" And right anenst him a dog snarling "er;" There's "Drugger," Abel Drugger. That's his sign. And here's now mystery and hieroglyphic!

FACE. Abel, thou art made.

DRUG. Sir, I do thank his worship.

FACE. Six o' thy legs more will not do it, Nab. He has brought you a pipe of tobacco, doctor.

DRUG. Yes, sir; I have another thing I would impart--

FACE. Out with it, Nab.

DRUG. Sir, there is lodged, hard by me, A rich young widow--

FACE. Good! a bona roba?

DRUG. But nineteen, at the most.

FACE. Very good, Abel.

DRUG. Marry, she's not in fashion yet; she wears A hood, but it stands a cop.

FACE. No matter, Abel.

DRUG. And I do now and then give her a fucus--

FACE. What! dost thou deal, Nab?

SUB. I did tell you, captain.

DRUG. And physic too, sometime, sir; for which she trusts me With all her mind. She's come up here of purpose To learn the fashion.

FACE. Good (his match too!)--On, Nab.

DRUG. And she does strangely long to know her fortune.

FACE. Ods lid, Nab, send her to the doctor, hither.

DRUG. Yes, I have spoke to her of his worship already; But she's afraid it will be blown abroad, And hurt her marriage.

FACE. Hurt it! 'tis the way To heal it, if 'twere hurt; to make it more Follow'd and sought: Nab, thou shalt tell her this. She'll be more known, more talk'd of; and your widows Are ne'er of any price till they be famous; Their honour is their multitude of suitors. Send her, it may be thy good fortune. What! Thou dost not know.

DRUG. No, sir, she'll never marry Under a knight: her brother has made a vow.

FACE. What! and dost thou despair, my little Nab, Knowing what the doctor has set down for thee, And seeing so many of the city dubb'd? One glass o' thy water, with a madam I know, Will have it done, Nab: what's her brother, a knight?

DRUG. No, sir, a gentleman newly warm in his land, sir, Scarce cold in his one and twenty, that does govern His sister here; and is a man himself Of some three thousand a year, and is come up To learn to quarrel, and to live by his wits, And will go down again, and die in the country.

FACE. How! to quarrel?

DRUG. Yes, sir, to carry quarrels, As gallants do; to manage them by line.

FACE. 'Slid, Nab, the doctor is the only man In Christendom for him. He has made a table, With mathematical demonstrations, Touching the art of quarrels: he will give him An instrument to quarrel by. Go, bring them both, Him and his sister. And, for thee, with her The doctor happ'ly may persuade. Go to: 'Shalt give his worship a new damask suit Upon the premises.

SUB. O, good captain!

FACE. He shall; He is the honestest fellow, doctor.--Stay not, No offers; bring the damask, and the parties.

DRUG. I'll try my power, sir.

FACE. And thy will too, Nab.

SUB. 'Tis good tobacco, this! What is't an ounce?

FACE. He'll send you a pound, doctor.

SUB. O no.

FACE. He will do't. It is the goodest soul!--Abel, about it. Thou shalt know more anon. Away, be gone. [EXIT ABEL.] A miserable rogue, and lives with cheese, And has the worms. That was the cause, indeed, Why he came now: he dealt with me in private, To get a med'cine for them.

SUB. And shall, sir. This works.

FACE. A wife, a wife for one on us, my dear Subtle! We'll e'en draw lots, and he that fails, shall have The more in goods, the other has in tail.

SUB. Rather the less: for she may be so light She may want grains.

FACE. Ay, or be such a burden, A man would scarce endure her for the whole.

SUB. Faith, best let's see her first, and then determine.

FACE. Content: but Dol must have no breath on't.

SUB. Mum. Away you, to your Surly yonder, catch him.

FACE. 'Pray God I have not staid too long.

SUB. I fear it.

[EXEUNT.]

## ACT 3. SCENE 3.1.

THE LANE BEFORE LOVEWIT'S HOUSE.

ENTER TRIBULATION WHOLESOME AND ANANIAS.

TRI. These chastisements are common to the saints, And such rebukes, we of the separation Must bear with willing shoulders, as the trials Sent forth to tempt our frailties.

ANA. In pure zeal, I do not like the man; he is a heathen, And speaks the language of Canaan, truly.

TRI. I think him a profane person indeed.

ANA. He bears The visible mark of the beast in his forehead. And for his stone, it is a work of darkness, And with philosophy blinds the eyes of man.

TRI. Good brother, we must bend unto all means, That may give furtherance to the holy cause.

ANA. Which his cannot: the sanctified cause Should have a sanctified course.

TRI. Not always necessary: The children of perdition are oft-times Made instruments even of the greatest works: Beside, we should give somewhat to man's nature, The place he lives in, still about the fire, And fume of metals, that intoxicate The brain of man, and make him prone to passion. Where have you greater atheists than your cooks? Or more profane, or choleric, than your glass-men? More antichristian than your bell-founders? What makes the devil so devilish, I would ask you, Sathan, our common enemy, but his being Perpetually about the fire, and boiling Brimstone and arsenic? We must give, I say, Unto the motives, and the stirrers up Of humours in the blood. It may be so, When as the work is done, the stone is made, This heat of his may turn into a zeal, And stand up for the beauteous discipline, Against the menstruous cloth and rag of Rome. We must await his calling, and the coming Of the good spirit. You did fault, t' upbraid him With the brethren's blessing of Heidelberg, weighing What need we have to hasten on the work, For the restoring of the silenced saints, Which ne'er will be, but by the philosopher's stone. And so a learned elder, one of Scotland, Assured me; aurum potabile being The only med'cine, for the civil magistrate, T' incline him to a feeling of the cause; And must be daily used in the disease.

ANA. I have not edified more, truly, by man; Not since the beautiful light first shone on me: And I am sad my zeal hath so offended.

TRI. Let us call on him then.

ANA. The motion's good, And of the spirit; I will knock first. [KNOCKS.] Peace be within!

[THE DOOR IS OPENED, AND THEY ENTER.]

## SCENE 3.2.

A ROOM IN LOVEWIT'S HOUSE.

ENTER SUBTLE, FOLLOWED BY TRIBULATION AND ANANIAS.

SUB. O, are you come? 'twas time. Your threescore minutes Were at last thread, you see: and down had gone Furnus acediae, turris circulatorius: Lembec, bolt's-head, retort and pelican Had all been cinders.--Wicked Ananias! Art thou return'd? nay then, it goes down yet.

TRI. Sir, be appeased; he is come to humble Himself in spirit, and to ask your patience, If too much zeal hath carried him aside From the due path.

SUB. Why, this doth qualify!

TRI. The brethren had no purpose, verily, To give you the least grievance; but are ready To lend their willing hands to any project The spirit and you direct.

SUB. This qualifies more!

TRI. And for the orphans' goods, let them be valued, Or what is needful else to the holy work, It shall be numbered; here, by me, the saints, Throw down their purse before you.

SUB. This qualifies most! Why, thus it should be, now you understand. Have I discours'd so unto you of our stone, And of the good that it shall bring your cause? Shew'd you (beside the main of hiring forces Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your friends, From the Indies, to serve you, with all their fleet) That even the med'cinal use shall make you a faction, And party in the realm? As, put the case, That some great man in state, he have the gout, Why, you but send three drops of your elixir, You help him straight: there you have made a friend. Another has the palsy or the dropsy, He takes of your incombustible stuff, He's young again: there you have made a friend, A lady that is past the feat of body, Though not of mind, and hath her face decay'd Beyond all cure of paintings, you restore, With the oil of talc: there you have made a friend; And all her friends. A lord that is a leper, A knight that has the bone-ache, or a squire That hath both these, you make them smooth and sound, With a bare fricace of your med'cine: still You increase your friends.

TRI. Ay, it is very pregnant.

SUB. And then the turning of this lawyer's pewter To plate at Christmas.--

ANA. Christ-tide, I pray you.

SUB. Yet, Ananias!

ANA. I have done.

SUB. Or changing His parcel gilt to massy gold. You cannot But raise you friends. Withal, to be of power To pay an army in the field, to buy The king of France out of his realms, or Spain Out of his Indies. What can you not do Against lords spiritual or temporal, That shall oppone you?

TRI. Verily, 'tis true. We may be temporal lords ourselves, I take it.

SUB. You may be any thing, and leave off to make Long-winded exercises; or suck up Your "ha!" and "hum!" in a tune. I not deny, But such as are not graced in a state, May, for their ends, be adverse in religion, And get a tune to call the flock together: For, to say sooth, a tune does much with women, And other phlegmatic people; it is your bell.

ANA. Bells are profane; a tune may be religious.

SUB. No warning with you! then farewell my patience. 'Slight, it shall down: I will not be thus tortured.

TRI. I pray you, sir.

SUB. All shall perish. I have spoken it.

TRI. Let me find grace, sir, in your eyes; the man He stands corrected: neither did his zeal, But as your self, allow a tune somewhere. Which now, being tow'rd the stone, we shall not need.

SUB. No, nor your holy vizard, to win widows To give you legacies; or make zealous wives To rob their husbands for the common cause: Nor take the start of bonds broke but one day, And say, they were forfeited by providence. Nor shall you need o'er night to eat huge meals, To celebrate your next day's fast the better; The whilst the brethren and the sisters humbled, Abate the stiffness of the flesh. Nor cast Before your hungry hearers scrupulous bones; As whether a Christian may hawk or hunt, Or whether matrons of the holy assembly May lay their hair out, or wear doublets, Or have that idol starch about their linen.

ANA. It is indeed an idol.

TRI. Mind him not, sir. I do command thee, spirit of zeal, but trouble, To peace within him! Pray you, sir, go on.

SUB. Nor shall you need to libel 'gainst the prelates, And shorten so your ears against the hearing Of the next wire-drawn grace. Nor of necessity Rail against plays, to please the alderman Whose daily custard you devour; nor lie With zealous rage till you are hoarse. Not one Of these so singular arts. Nor call yourselves By names of Tribulation, Persecution, Restraint, Long-patience, and such-like, affected By the whole family or wood of you, Only for glory, and to catch the ear Of the disciple.

TRI. Truly, sir, they are Ways that the godly brethren have invented, For propagation of the glorious cause, As very notable means, and whereby also Themselves grow soon, and profitably, famous.

SUB. O, but the stone, all's idle to it! nothing! The art of angels' nature's miracle, The divine secret that doth fly in clouds From east to west: and whose tradition Is not from men, but spirits.

ANA. I hate traditions; I do not trust them--

TRI. Peace!

ANA. They are popish all. I will not peace: I will not--

TRI. Ananias!

ANA. Please the profane, to grieve the godly; I may not.

SUB. Well, Ananias, thou shalt overcome.

TRI. It is an ignorant zeal that haunts him, sir; But truly, else, a very faithful brother, A botcher, and a man, by revelation, That hath a competent knowledge of the truth.

SUB. Has he a competent sum there in the bag To buy the goods within? I am made guardian, And must, for charity, and conscience sake, Now see the most be made for my poor orphan; Though I desire the brethren too good gainers: There they are within. When you have view'd and bought 'em, And ta'en the inventory of what they are, They are ready for projection; there's no more To do: cast on the med'cine, so much silver As there is tin there, so much gold as brass, I'll give't you in by weight.

TRI. But how long time, Sir, must the saints expect yet?

SUB. Let me see, How's the moon now? Eight, nine, ten days hence, He will be silver potate; then three days Before he citronise: Some fifteen days, The magisterium will be perfected.

ANA. About the second day of the third week, In the ninth month?

SUB. Yes, my good Ananias.

TRI. What will the orphan's goods arise to, think you?

SUB. Some hundred marks, as much as fill'd three cars, Unladed now: you'll make six millions of them.-- But I must have more coals laid in.

TRI. How?

SUB. Another load, And then we have finish'd. We must now increase Our fire to ignis ardens; we are past Fimus equinus, balnei, cineris, And all those lenter heats. If the holy purse Should with this draught fall low, and that the saints Do need a present sum, I have a trick To melt the pewter, you shall buy now, instantly, And with a tincture make you as good Dutch dollars As any are in Holland.

TRI. Can you so?

SUB. Ay, and shall 'bide the third examination.

ANA. It will be joyful tidings to the brethren.

SUB. But you must carry it secret.

TRI. Ay; but stay, This act of coining, is it lawful?

ANA. Lawful! We know no magistrate; or, if we did, This is foreign coin.

SUB. It is no coining, sir. It is but casting.

TRI. Ha! you distinguish well: Casting of money may be lawful.

ANA. 'Tis, sir.

TRI. Truly, I take it so.

SUB. There is no scruple, Sir, to be made of it; believe Ananias: This case of conscience he is studied in.

TRI. I'll make a question of it to the brethren.

ANA. The brethren shall approve it lawful, doubt not. Where shall it be done?

[KNOCKING WITHOUT.]

SUB. For that we'll talk anon. There's some to speak with me. Go in, I pray you, And view the parcels. That's the inventory. I'll come to you straight. [EXEUNT TRIB. AND ANA.] Who is it?--Face! appear. [ENTER FACE IN HIS UNIFORM.] How now! good prize?

FACE. Good pox! yond' costive cheater Never came on.

SUB. How then?

FACE. I have walk'd the round Till now, and no such thing.

SUB. And have you quit him?

FACE. Quit him! an hell would quit him too, he were happy. 'Slight! would you have me stalk like a mill-jade, All day, for one that will not yield us grains? I know him of old.

SUB. O, but to have gull'd him, Had been a mastery.

FACE. Let him go, black boy! And turn thee, that some fresh news may possess thee. A noble count, a don of Spain, my dear Delicious compeer, and my party-bawd, Who is come hither private for his conscience, And brought munition with him, six great slops, Bigger than three Dutch hoys, beside round trunks, Furnished with pistolets, and pieces of eight, Will straight be here, my rogue, to have thy bath, (That is the colour,) and to make his battery Upon our Dol, our castle, our cinque-port, Our Dover pier, our what thou wilt. Where is she? She must prepare perfumes, delicate linen, The bath in chief, a banquet, and her wit, For she must milk his epididimis. Where is the doxy?

SUB. I'll send her to thee: And but despatch my brace of little John Leydens, And come again my self.

FACE. Are they within then?

SUB. Numbering the sum.

FACE. How much?

SUB. A hundred marks, boy.

[EXIT.]

FACE. Why, this is a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon! Three of my clerk! A portague of my grocer! This of the brethren! beside reversions, And states to come in the widow, and my count! My share to-day will not be bought for forty--

[ENTER DOL.]

DOL. What?

FACE. Pounds, dainty Dorothy! art thou so near?

DOL. Yes; say, lord general, how fares our camp?