I'll ha' no bawds,

But fathers and mothers. They will do it best.

Best of all others. And my flatterers

Shall be the pure and gravest of Divines,

That I can get for money. My mere fools,

Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets,

The same that writ so subtly of the fart,

Whom I will entertain, still, for that subject.

The few that would give out themselves to be

Court and town-stallions, and, each where, belie

Ladies, who are known most innocent, for them;

Those will I beg to make me eunuchs of:

And they shall fan me with ten ostrich tails

Apiece made in a plume to gather wind.

We will be brave, Puff, now we ha' the medicine.

My meat shall all come in in Indian shells,

Dishes of agate, set in gold, and studded

With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies.

The tongues of carps, dormice, and camels' heels,

Boiled i' the spirit of Sol, and dissolved pearl,

(Apicius' diet, 'gainst the epilepsy)

And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,

Headed with diamond and carbuncle.

My footboy shall eat pheasants, calvered salmons,

Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will have

The beards of barbels, served instead of salads;

Oiled mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps

Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,

Dressed with an exquisite and poignant sauce;

For which, I'll say unto my cook, there's gold,

Go forth, and be a knight.

FAC.

Sir, I'll go look

A little, how it heightens.

[Exit]

 

MAM.

Do. My shirts

I'll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft, and light

As cobwebs; and for all my other raiment

It shall be such as might provoke the Persian;

Were he to teach the world riot anew.

My gloves of fishes' and birds'-skins, perfumed

With gums of paradise, and eastern air –

SUR.

And do you think to have the stone, with this?

MAM.

No, I do think, to have all this, with the stone.

SUR.

Why, I have heard, he must be homo frugi,

A pious, holy, and religious man,

One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.

MAM.

That makes it, sir, he is so. But I buy it.

My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch,

A notable, superstitious, good soul,

Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald,

With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let him

Do it alone, for me, still. Here he comes,

Not a profane word afore him: 'tis poison.

 

Scene 3

Enter Subtle

 

MAM.

Good morrow, father.

SUB.

Gentle son, good morrow,

And to your friend there. What is he, is with you?

MAM.

An heretic, that I did bring along,

In hope, sir, to convert him.

SUB.

Son, I doubt

You're covetous, that thus you meet your time

I' the just point: prevent your day, at morning.

This argues something, worthy of a fear

Of importune and carnal appetite.

Take heed you do not cause the blessing leave you,

With your ungoverned haste. I should be sorry

To see my labours, now, e'en at perfection,

Got by long watching and large patience,

Not prosper, where my love and zeal hath placed 'em.

Which (heaven I call to witness, with yourself,

To whom I have poured my thoughts) in all my ends,

Have looked no way, but unto public good,

To pious uses, and dear charity,

Now grown a prodigy with men. Wherein

If you, my son, should now prevaricate,

And to your own particular lusts employ

So great and catholic a bliss: be sure,

A curse will follow, yea, and overtake

Your subtle and most secret ways.

MAM.

I know, sir,

You shall not need to fear me. I but come,

To ha' you confute this gentleman.

SUR.

Who is,

Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief

Toward your stone: would not be gulled.

SUB.

Well, son,

All that I can convince him in, is this,

The work is done: bright Sol is in his robe.

We have a medicine of the triple Soul,

The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven,

And make us worthy of it. Ulenspiegel!

FAC [Within]

Anon, sir.

 

[Enter Face]

 

SUB.

Look well to the register,

And let your heat, still, lessen by degrees,

To the aludels.

FAC.

Yes, sir.

SUB.

Did you look

O'the bolt's-head yet?

FAC.

Which, on D sir?

SUB.

Aye.

What's the complexion?

FAC.

Whitish.

SUB.

Infuse vinegar,

To draw his volatile substance, and his tincture:

And let the water in glass E be filtered,

And put into the gripe's egg. Lute him well;

And leave him closed in balneo.

FAC.

I will, sir.

 

[Exit]

 

SUR.

What a brave language here is? Next to canting?

SUB.

I have another work; you never saw, son,

That three days since passed the philosopher's wheel,

In the lent heat of Athanor; and's become

Sulphur o' nature.

MAM.

But 'tis for me?

SUB.

What need you?

You have enough, in that is, perfect.

MAM.

Oh, but –

SUB.

Why, this is covetise!

MAM.

No, I assure you,

I shall employ it all, in pious uses,

Founding of colleges and grammar schools,

Marrying young virgins, building hospitals,

And now and then a church.

 

[Enter Face]

 

SUB.

How now?

FAC.

Sir, please you,

Shall I not change the filter?

SUB.

Marry, yes.

And bring me the complexion of glass B.

 

[Exit Face]

 

MAM.

Ha' you another?

SUB.

Yes, son, were I assured

Your piety were firm, we would not want

The means to glorify it.