DAP.
I thank his worship.
FAC.
So?
Another angel.
DAP.
Must I?
FAC.
Must you? 'Slight,
What else is thanks? Will you be trivial?
[Dapper gives money]
Doctor,
When must he come, for his familiar?
DAP.
Shall I not ha' it with me?
SUB.
Oh, good sir!
There must a world of ceremonies pass,
You must be bathed and fumigated first;
Besides, the Queen of Faery does not rise
Till it be noon.
FAC.
Not if she danced tonight.
SUB.
And she must bless it.
FAC.
Did you never see
Her royal Grace yet?
DAP.
Whom?
FAC.
Your aunt of Faery?
SUB.
Not since she kissed him in the cradle, Captain,
I can resolve you that.
FAC.
Well, see her Grace,
What e'er it cost you, for a thing that I know!
It will be somewhat hard to compass: but,
However, see her. You are made, believe it,
If you can see her. Her Grace is a lone woman,
And very rich, and if she take a fancy,
She will do strange things. See her, at any hand.
'Slid, she may hap to leave you all she has!
It is the Doctor's fear.
DAP.
How will't be done then?
FAC.
Let me alone, take you no thought. Do you
But say to me, Captain, I'll see her Grace.
DAP.
Captain, I'll see her Grace.
(One knocks without)
FAC.
Enough.
SUB.
Who's there?
Anon. (Conduct him forth, by the back way.)
Sir, against one o'clock, prepare yourself.
Till when you must be fasting; only, take
Three drops of vinegar in at your nose;
Two at your mouth; and one at either ear;
Then bathe your fingers' ends; and wash your eyes;
To sharpen your five senses; and cry 'hum',
Thrice; and then 'buzz', as often; and then, come.
[Exit]
FAC.
Can you remember this?
DAP.
I warrant you.
FAC.
Well then, away. 'Tis but your bestowing
Some twenty nobles 'mong her Grace's servants;
And put on a clean shirt. You do not know
What grace her Grace may do you in clean linen.
[Exeunt]
Scene 3
Enter Subtle, Abel Drugger
SUB.
Come in (good wives, I pray you forbear me now.
Troth I can do you no good, till afternoon):
What is your name, say you, Abel Drugger?
DRU.
Yes, sir.
SUB.
A seller of tobacco?
DRU.
Yes sir.
SUB.
'Umh.
Free of the Grocers?
DRU.
Aye, and't please you.
SUB.
Well –
Your business, Abel?
DRU.
This, and't please your worship,
I am a young beginner, and am building
Of a new shop, and't like your worship; just,
At corner of a street: (here's the plot on't.)
And I would know by art, sir, of your worship,
Which way I should make my door, by necromancy.
And where my shelves. And which should be for boxes.
And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, sir.
And I was wished to your worship by a gentleman,
One Captain Face, that says you know men's planets,
And their good angels, and their bad.
SUB.
I do,
If I do see 'em –
[Enter Face]
FAC.
What! My honest Abel?
Thou art well met, here!
DRU.
Troth, sir, I was speaking,
Just, as your worship came here, of your worship.
I pray you, speak for me to Master Doctor.
FAC.
He shall do anything. Doctor, do you hear?
This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow,
He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not
Sophisticate it with sack-lees, or oil,
Nor washes it in muscadel, and grains,
Nor buries it in gravel underground,
Wrapped up in greasy leather, or pissed clouts:
But keeps it in fine lily-pots, that opened,
Smell like conserve of roses, or French beans.
He has his maple block, his silver tongs,
Winchester pipes, and fire of juniper.
A neat, spruce-honest-fellow, and no goldsmith.
SUB.
He's a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on –
FAC.
Already, sir, ha' you found it? Lo' thee Abel!
SUB.
And in right way toward riches –
FAC.
Sir.
SUB.
This summer,
He will be of the clothing of his company:
And next spring, called to the scarlet. Spend what he can.
FAC.
What, and so little beard?
SUB.
Sir, you must think,
He may have a receipt, to make hair come.
But he'll be wise, preserve his youth, and fine for't:
His fortune looks for him another way.
FAC.
'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soon?
I am amused, at that!
SUB.
By a rule, Captain,
In metoposcopy, which I do work by,
A certain star i'the forehead, which you see not.
Your chestnut, or your olive-coloured face
Does never fail: and your long ear doth promise.
I knew't, by certain spots too, in his teeth,
And on the nail of his mercurial finger.
FAC.
Which finger's that?
SUB.
His little finger. Look.
You were born upon a Wednesday?
DRU.
Yes, indeed, sir.
SUB.
The thumb, in chiromanty, we give Venus;
The forefinger to Jove; the midst, to Saturn;
The ring to Sol; the least, to Mercury;
Who was the lord, sir, of his horoscope,
His house of life being Libra, which foreshowed,
He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance.
FAC.
Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?
SUB.
There is a ship now, coming from Ormus,
That shall yield him such a commodity
Of drugs – This is the west, and this the south?
DRU.
Yes, sir.
SUB.
And those are your two sides?
DRU.
Aye, sir.
SUB.
Make me your door, then, south; your broad side, west:
And on the east side of your shop, aloft,
Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;
Upon the north part, Rael, Velel, Thiel.
They are the names of those Mercurial spirits,
That do fright flies from boxes.
DRU.
Yes, sir.
SUB.
And
Beneath your threshold, bury me a lodestone
To draw in gallants, that wear spurs. The rest,
They'll seem to follow.
FAC.
That's a secret, Nab!
SUB.
And on your stall, a puppet, with a vice,
And a court-fucus to call city-dames.
You shall deal much, with minerals.
1 comment