That were the fountains, and first springs of wisdom,

Wrapt in perplexed allegories?

Jam. I urg'd that,

And clear'd to him, that Sysiphus was damn'd To roll the ceaseless stone, only, because

He would have made ours common. Who is this?
[DOL is seen.
Sub. God's precious-What do you mean:
Go in, good lady,

Let me intreat you. Where's this varlet?
Face. Sir?

Sub. You very knave! do you use me thus?
Face. Wherein, sir?

Sub. Go in and see, you traitor, go.
Mam. Who is it, sir?

Sub. Nothing, sir, nothing.

Mam. What's the matter? Good sir!

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

But ours the most ignorant. What now?

Too scrupulous that way. It is his vice.
No, he's a rare physician, do him right.
An excellent Paracelsian! And has done
Strange cures with mineral physic. He deals all
With spirits, he. He will not hear a word
Of Galen, or his tedious recipes. [FACE again.
How
now, Lungs!

Fece. Softly, sir, speak softly. I meant
To ha' told your worship all. This must not hear
Mam. No, he will not be gull'd; let him alone.
Face. You're 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, sir.
Mom. How might one do t' have conference
with her, Lungs?

Face. O, divers have run mad upon the conference.

I do not know, sir: I'm sent in haste,

To fetch a viol.

Face. O, the most affablest creature, sir! so merry!

So pleasant! She'll mount you up like quicksilver,
Over the helm; and circulate like oil,
A very vegetable: Discourse of state,
Of mathematics, bawdry, any thing-

Mam. Is she no way accessible? No means, No trick to give a man a taste of her-WitOr so? -Ulen.

Face. I'll come to you again, sir.

Mam. Surly, I did not think one o' 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 lechery enough to pay for,
Without this bait.

Mam. Heart, you abuse yourself.

I know the lady, and her friends, and means,
The original of this disaster. Her brother
Has told me all.

Sur. And yet, you ne'er saw her 'Till now.

Mam. O, yes, but I forgot. I have (believe it) One o' the treacherous'st memories, I do think, Of all mankind.

Sur. What call you her brother?

Mam. My lord

He will not have his name known, now I think on't.
Sur. A very treacherous memory!
Mam. O' iny faith-

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

But, by attorney, and to a second purpose.
Now, I am sure, it is a bawdy-house;

I'll swear it, were the marshal here to thank me!
The naming this commander doth confirm it.
Don Face! Why, he's the most authentic dealer
I' these commodities! The superintendant
To all the quainter traffickers in town.
He is their visitor, and does appoint

Who lies with whom; and at what hour, what price,

Which gown, and in what smock; what fall, what tire.

Him will I prove, by a third person, to find
The subtilties 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

Sur. I will not, sir.

Sir Epicure, I shall leave you.

Mum. I follow you straight.

SCENE IV.

SUBTLE, FACE, and DOL.

Sub. Has he bit? Has he bit? Face. And swallow'd too, my Subtle. I ha' giv'n him line, and now he plays, i'faith. Sub. And shall we twitch him?

Face. Through both the gills.

A wench is a rare bait, with which a man
No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad.
Sub. Dol, my lord Wha't'shum's sister, you

must now

Bear yourself statelich.

Doll. O, 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 ha' spoke to him. Well,
I must not lose my wary gamester, yonder.

Sub. O 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.

Sub. What, more gudgeons! [One knocks. Doll, scout, scout; stay, Face, you must go to the

door:

This gentleman has a par❜lous head.

Mum. But wilt thou, Ulen,

Be constant to thy promise?

Face. As my life, sir.

Dol. I know him not. He looks like a Gold

end-man.

Sub. Gods 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. Away,
Madam, to your withdrawing-chamber. Now,
In a new tune, new gesture, but old language.
This fellow is sent from one negotiates with me
About the stone too; for the holy brethren
Of Amsterdam, the exil'd saints; that hope
To raise their discipline by it. I must use him
In some strange fashion now, to make him ad-
mire me.

A Lullianist? a Ripley? filius artis ?
Can you sublime, and dulcify? calcine?
Know you the sapor pontic? sapor stipstic?
Or, what is homogene, or heterogene?

Ana. I understand no Heathen language, truly. Sub. Heathen, you knipper-doling! Is ars sacra, Or chrysopia, or spagirica,

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, i' the language.
Name the vexations, and the martyrizations
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's 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 oleasity, and his suscitability.
Sub. How do you sublime him?
Face. With the calce of egg-shells,
White marble, talek.

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's Heathen Greck 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 dissolv'd,
If you coagulate, it is coagulated,

If you make it to fly, it flieth.

Sub. Enough.

This's Heathen Greek to you? What are you, sir? Ana. Please you, a servant of the exil'd 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.

VOL. III.

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 gi' me satisfaction; or, out goes

The fire; and down th' alembecs, and the furnace,
Piger Henricus, or what not. Thou wretch,
Both Sericon and Bufo shall be lost,

Tell 'em. All hope of rooting out the bishops,
Or th' antichristian hierarchy, shall perish,
If they stay threescore minutes. The aqueitie,
Terreitie, and sulphureitie

Shall run together again, and all be annull'd,
Thou wicked Ananias.-This will fetch 'em,
Exit ANANIAS.

And make 'em haste towards their gulling more. A man must deal like a rough nurse, and fright Those, that are froward, to an appetite.

SCENE VI.

FACE, SUBTLE, and DRUGGER.

Face. He's busy with his spirits, but we'll upon him.

Sub. How now! What mates? What baiards ha' we here!

F

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.

doctor.

Sub. I was devising now.

Face. 'Sight, do not say so,

He will repent he ga' you any more.
What say you to his constellation, doctor?
The balance?

Sub. No, that way is stale and common.
A town's-man, 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 first 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 lodg'd, 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

Thou dost not know.

Drug. No, sir, she'll never marry

What?

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 o' 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 i' the country.
Face. How! to quarrel!

Drug. Yes, sir, to carry quarrels,

As gallants do, and manage 'em 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 'em 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 it.

I do not like the man: he is a heathen,
And speaks the language of Canaan truly.

Trib. 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.
Trib. 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.

Trib. 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,
Satan, 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, weigh-
ing

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.
Trib. Let us call on him then.

Ana. The motion's good,

And of the spirit; I will knock first: peace be within.

SCENE II.

SUBTLE, TRIBULATION, and ANANIAS.

Sub. O, are you come? 'Twas time. Your threescore minutes

Were at the last thread, you see; and down had gone

Furnus acedia, turris circulatorius:
Lembec, bolt's-head, retort, and pellicane,
Had all been cinders. Wicked Ananias!
Art thou returned? Nay, then, it goes down yet.
Trib. 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!

Trib. 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 qualities more!

Trib. And for the orphan's 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 discoursed so unto you of our stone,
And of the good that it shall bring your cause?
Shewed you, (beside the main of hiring forces
Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your friends,
From th' 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 decayed
Beyond all cure of paintings, you restore