THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES (S/Uu )UUl , THE BEST ELIZABETHAN PLAYS: THE JEW OF MALTA, by Marlowe j THE ALCHEMIST, by Jons on; PHILASTER, by Beaumont and Fletcher j THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN, by Fletcher and Shakespeare j THE DUCHESS OF MALE J by Webster. EDITED BY WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER, Author of "The Dawn of Italian Independence"; "History and Customs of Harvard University"; "Throne-Makbrs"; " Poems, New and Old," etc. -^►oXKo GINN & COMPANY BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • LONDON Copyright, 1890, 1918, by WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER Ai.L Rights Reserved 419.2 tCbe gtfacnaeum j9regg l.INN ANU COMPANY • PRO- PKIUTOKS • liOSTON • U.S.A. 755 CONTENTS. PAGE Preface 3 Bibliography . . . . ... . . 20 The Jew of Malta 21 The Alchemist . . 113 Philaster 261 The Two Noble Kinsmen 363 The Duchess of Malfi 489 944124 PREFACE. MY object in this volume is to present specimens of the best work of the five Elizabethan dramatists who stand highest among Shakespeare's contemporaries. Col- lections of separate scenes and special editions of single plays have frequently been made, and they have their value ; but it seemed to me that in binding together the master- pieces which follow, I should enable not only the general reader but also the college student to taste the quality of Shakespeare's rivals, and thereby to esteem the more ade- quately Shakespeare himself. Few persons possess the fif- teen or twenty large volumes in which the Elizabethan drama is published, and fewer still have the time or the patience to plod through many tedious or dirty pages in order to come upon the treasures they contain. For, just as a traveller in an Oriental city is often obliged to turn his eyes from some mosque or graceful minaret to the ground beneath his feet so as to avoid ordure and garbage, so the reader of the Elizabethan plays has his attention often dis- tracted, and his sense of decency shocked by the vulgarity of many passages in them. This coarseness was due in part to the habit of the time, when men spoke openly to each other and even to women on subjects about which we are, if not ignorant, at least reticent, and in part to the deliber- ate effort of the playwright to please the vulgarest persons in the audience. But as filth is always filth, though it be 3 4 PREFACE. thnist upon us in a work of art, or come to us along with much that is noble under the sanction of a great name, and as each age has more than enough of its own obscenity to flounder free from, without falling back into the sty of a former generation, I have selected plays as little as possible tainted. Moreover, I have not scrupled to strike out phrases or lines where it seemed proper, being guided by decency and not by prudery ; yet it will not be found that this purging inter- feres in the least in the understanding of the following dramas, — a sufficient evidence, if evidence be needed, of the unnecessariness of obscenity from the artistic as from the ethical standpoint. In making my selection I had less difficulty than might have been expected. Of Marlowe's four chief works, Tam- burlaine is too crude and tedious, in spite of several fine passages ; Doctor Faustus, though admirable in outline, lacks interest in detail, and is, besides, permanently superseded by the mighty work of Goethe ; finally, Edward II, though its scenes are knitted together more closely than those of its predecessors, and though its murder-scene is indeed masterly, yet as a whole lacks vivid characters. So I have chosen The Jew of Malta, which exhibits Marlowe's great qualities and their defects, and which will always be interesting from the comparisons to be made between Barabas and Shylock. Among Ben Jonson's plays two have ranked, and de- servedly ranked, foremost, — Volpone and The Alchemist. The former seems to me to be the superior, but its ineradi- cable coarseness precluded its publication in .this volume ; whereas The Alchemist is both 'an admirable example of Jonson's skill in applying the rules of classic composition to an English subject, and a fair representative of his satire and erudition. It is, furthermore, a mirror in which are reflected PREFACE. 5 with wonderful accuracy, the social, scientific, religious, and philosophical quacks of the time of James the First. Fifty-two plays are printed in the complete edition of the works of Beaumont and Fletcher, — many of them being wholly Fletcher's; but only three of those which I have read come within my scope. These are The Maid's Tragedy, Vaknfifiian, and Philaster : the first two contain passages equal to the best their authors ever vvrote, but they are be- smirched with so much coarseness, and brutality is so hope- lessly interwoven in their plots, that I was forced to reject them ; Philaster shows Beaumont and Fletcher at their best, and is thoroughly characteristic of their genius. The Two Noble Kinsmen, commonly attributed to Fletcher and Shakespeare, is surely one of the most beauti- ful plays of that period, and deserves from the public such admiration and popularity as it has long enjoyed from schol- ars. Its right to be published among Shakespeare's works is certainly equal to that of Henry VIII, and superior to that of some of the poorer plays which have few marks of his collaboration. Webster left two masterpieces, — The White Devil and The Duchess of Malfi ; both are great, but the latter excels, and is not only the most original and imaginative drama in this volume, but superior to every other Elizabethan tragedy except Shakespeare's best. In some measure, therefore, the reader can form from these five plays — supplemented, of course, by acquaint- ance with Shakespeare — some idea of the methods and range of the amazing dramatic inspiration in the reign of Elizabeth and the first James, — unsurpassed in the history of literature, and equalled only once, in Greece. The domi- nant influence was that of the Renaissance, transmitted to 6 PREFACE. England by way of France, and modified by an intensely English patriotism, — the Renaissance, when classical learn- ing revived, when great discoveries in geography opened new lands and peoples to the view of Europe ; when a bolder commerce brought not only richer merchandise, but strange and fascinating lore, from the races of the Orient ; when the sway of a single religion was broken, and through- out Christendom men ordered their lives by new beliefs ; when science, assisted by experiment and criticism, began its conquest of nature ; when the legends of chivalry, and the traditions of the crusades, and mediaeval myths and su- perstitions, were still so fresh as to appeal to the imagina- tions while they no longer distorted the convictions of poets. It was the age when romance seemed real, and when the revelations of science seemed romantic. Curiosity, insati- able and enthusiastic, scrutinized all things. The divorce between passion and action, between the scholar and the man of affairs, had not yet been proclaimed : many-sided men were common, — philosophers were courtiers and dip- lomats ; soldiers were poets. Intense individualism produced extreme types of character, prodigies of virtue or monsters of wickedness. Political conditions, the strife of noble with noble and of king with king, the dangers and excitements of foreign voyages, awakened qualities and passions which in quieter times lie dormant. It was as if mankind con- spired to place the whole circle of its capacities on exhibi- tion. To the great stimulus of the recovered appreciation of classical antiquity was added the impulsion of that mod- ern spirit, which mysteriously and almost imperceptibly was remoulding society. And just as Bacon took all knowledge for his province, so the great poets of the age of Elizabeth took all human nature for theirs. Literary precedents and PREFACE. 7 the conventional rules prescribed by writers of rhetorics and grammars -did not hamper them. They were too busy en- deavoring to portray the mighty pageant sweeping before them, to rummage old attics for the musty colors and warped palettes of by-gone painters. Taking the implements at hand, — the tedious moralities and the loosely spun miracle plays, — they soon improved upon them, soon invented a drama-form not so rigid as to be cramped, nor so loose as to be redundant, but articulate like a highly developed organism, and as elastic as the vari- ous material furnished by nature required. And for their metre they adopted and perfected a line susceptible of al- most infinite modulations, suited alike to the simplest nar- ration, and to the highest outbursts of passion, and to the most delicate whisperings of fancy. In their hands, blank verse became the peer of the Homeric hexameter, and of Dante's tei'za rima, — a metre superior to that which any other modern language offers to its dramatic writers. To Christopher Marlowe is due the honor of having first shown the capacity of this " mighty hne." We know but little about his life. He was born at Canterbury, and chris- tened there on Feb. 26, 1564, almost exactly two months before the date of Shakespeare's birth. He attended the King's School in his native place, and, in March, 158 1. matriculated at Benet (now Corpus Christi) College, Cam- bridge, where he took a bachelor's degree two years later. In 1588 Tamburlaine was acted, and The Tragual History of Doctor Faustus appeared a little later. Then followed The Jew of Malta and Edivard II. These, and The Mas- sacre of Paris, Dido (in which he was assisted by Nash), some journeyman work on the three parts of Henry VI, and a fragmentary poem entitled Hero and Leander, — 8 PREFACE. comparable with Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis, — were all that he had time to do before he was killed in a quarrel over a courtesan, at Deptford, June i, 1593. It is common, while deploring his early death, to speculate whether he might not, had he lived to maturity, have equalled Shake- speare himself; but such speculation. seems to me to betray the uncritical temperament of those who indulge in it. We cannot reasonably doubt but that Marlowe, at forty, would have produced works far superior to any he has left : he had great powers, and they were surely ripening, but there is no indication that he could ever have excelled in two very im- portant fields, where Shakespeare is supreme, — in humor and in fancy. Humor is inborn, and shows itself early, — yet there are not among Marlowe's creations any germs of such characters as Falstaff or Mercutio ; fancy, again, is preeminently a young poet's gift, yet Marlowe's lack of it is almost as surprising as are the ease and confidence with which he steps upon the stage for the first time. There is no bashfulness, no imitation, but the air of one who feels sure of his powers. He was full of vitality, intoxicated at beholding the mighty forces which uphold and perpetuate the universe ; and he seems to have believed that man, let him but culti- vate his titanic possibilities, may master those forces, and cease to be their puppet. So his heroes are marvels of energy, devoting themselves to the acquisition of power which shall place them above the Hmitations of human na- ture : with Tamburlaine, it is desire of empire, — the whole world shall be his slave ; with Faustus, it is desire of knowl- edge and pleasure, — the mysteries of fate shall be revealed to him, and all delights shall be concentrated in a cup for him to quaff; with Karabas, it is desire of gold, — he will have the means of exterminating all Malta to satisfv his ven- PREFACE. 9 geance. Even Edward II, who seems an exception, illustrates the power of weakness, — if I may use an apparent paradox. For the most part, therefore, the personages of Marlowe's dramas are types of amazing passions, rather than sharply defined individuals : he did not attain the supreme excel- lence of dramatic characterization in which the type lives in the individual, as, for example, in Shylock. Vigor and exuberance, — those are the qualities which distinguish Marlowe's thought ; and in his rhythm we meet lines and passages, now informed by an imperial stateliness, now by a subtle unforgetable milody, to find parallels for which we must turn to Shakespeare himself. Of very different mettle was Ben Jonson, the posthumous son of a clergyman, born at Westminster in 1574, and edu- cated there at the famous school, then under Camden's direction. But the widow Jonson married a bricklayer, and young Ben was forced for a time to work at his step-father's trade. When he could endure this no longer, he ran away, joined a regiment in the Low Countries, and after a brief military service, turned up in London, where his first comedy, Every Man in his Humour, was produced in 1596. Then followed, in 1599, 1600, and 1601, Every Man out oj his Humotir, Cynthia's Revels, and The Poetaster, comedies in which he satirized the foibles of the day, — and as, among other affectations, he laughed at the new romantic fashion of writing plays, he was in turn ridiculed by Dekker and Marston in Satirofnastix. -Yet, while they laughed at him, no man was so great a favorite as he among that illus- trious group of playwrights and poets which used to meet and carouse at the Mermaid ; and although, in spite of his protests, the Elizabethan drama steadily progressed along romantic lines, no plays were more popular than his. In lO PREFACE. 1603 he wrote Sejanus, a tragedy; in 1605, Volpone ; in 1609, The Silent Woman; in 1610, The Alchemist ; in 161 1, another tragedy, Catiline. Eastward Ho', in which he had Chapman and Marston for collaborators, proved too strong a satire on the Scottish people for the taste of the Scotch- born James I, and its authors were imprisoned, only to be restored to liberty and favor a little while afterward. In 1619 Jonson was appointed Poet Laureate, with the usual perquisite of ;!^ioo, and a butt of canary from the royal cellars, every year. In his old age he published The Sad Shepherd, and, having outlived all his great companions, he died Aug. 16, 1637. In erudition, he was reputed the most learned poet of his time, and it is even asserted that no other English poet except Milton has had a wider and more various knowledge than he. His models in the drama were the classic playwrights of Rome and Athens. Con- demning the romantic principles of his contemporaries, which led to excess and a luxuriant confusion, he insisted on a rigid observance of the three unities, of time, place, and subject. His own plays, constructed in obedience to the Aristotelian methods, are marvels of ingenuity. No other English plots are more homogeneous and skilful ; in none is there so little superfluity, so few digressions. In scene after scene you behold the author compressing a spring, till its tension is ready for the final, sudden discharge ; yet he does this so adroitly, that your interest is excited from moment to moment, lest that discharge burst upon you unawares. In this respect he is the true descendant of the classic drama- tists, and the kinsman of the Frenchmen who, in the seven- teenth century, created the French drama on classic models. Unlike Marlowe, who sketches his plot but vaguel)', and wanders whithersoever his love of splendor points, Jonson PREFACE. II « has drawn every detail before sitting down to write. His material is the humors — or, as we should now say, the moods — of mankind, rather than their elemental passions ; he produces his effects by cumulation and repetition, rather than by the swift, single, perfect strokes of a Shakespeare or a Webster. In The Alchemist this is well illustrated : he proposes to expose a popular imposture ; to do this he in- troduces two varieties of the same species of quacks, and their female accomplice ; and then he marshals before us, not one or two gulls, but a whole flock of them, — an epi- cure, a bragging young gentleman from the country, a sanc- timonious Puritan, a simpleton of a clerk, a conceited tobacconist, — and we see how the same greed for unearned wealth affects each differently, yet drives all into a commu- nion of dupery. So clever a weaving of various threads in one compact web has rarely been achieved ; Jonson leaves no seams and no thrums in his work. He had not the high- est imagination ; but he had its best substitutes, — judgment, taste, sense of form, and culture. As he is pre-eminently classic, so Beaumont and Fletcher are pre-eminently romantic. Most of the Elizabethan dra- matists sprang from lowly families : not so Francis Beau- mont, who came of noble stock. His father, Sir John Beaumont, was a Justice of the Common Pleas in Leicester- shire, where Francis was born in 1586. At the age of eleven he was admitted a gentleman commoner at Broadgate-hall (now Pembroke) College, Oxford. Going to London, he read law in the Inner Temple, but soon was drawn towards the stage. He formed a literary partnership with John Fletcher, and had already become renowned, when he was cut off by death in 1615. Fletcher, whose father was Dean of Peterborough, and then Bishop of Worcester, was born 15» PREFACE. . - at Rye, in Sussex, in December, 1579. We know little about him, except that he was educated at Benet College, Cambridge, went to London eany, devoted himself to play- writing, died of the plague in 1625, and was buried at St. Saviour's, Southwark. An old tradition has it that Beaumont supplied judgment, and Fletcher fancy, to their joint produc- tions. Owing to the early death of the former, it is easy to separate those plays which they \vrote together from those which Fletcher wrote alone, and by this process the reader who is curious can determine more or less accurately which parts should be assigned to Beaumont, and which to Fletcher, in their united works. That eminent critics, despite this clue, should have hitherto failed to agree, seems to indicate that no ultimate certainty can be reached, and that therefore opinions which have only probability for their basis ought not to be too vehemently attacked or defended. Be the division what it may, the quality which prevails in their dramas is the quahty of romance. Their best heroes are earlier Hernanis, bred in the ideals of Castilian honor ; even their villains — and monstrous villains some of them are — utter very noble sentiments. You feel that such per- sons never existed, and yet you know the thoughts to be true, and you cannot resist the fascination, the glamour — if you will — ^,of ideals borrowed from the age of chivalry. There is, in Beaumont and Fletcher, " a constant recognition of gentility," as Emerson has remarked ; this, and their pic- turesque descriptions, their genuine sentiment, and their occasional flashes of imagination revealing intense passion, constitute their chief merits, and interfuse through their dramas the spirit of romance I have noted. To be de- lightfully unnatural is their privilege at their best ; they approach the actual human nature of their time only on its PREFACE, 13 most depraved side, and are abominably coarse at their worst. The Two Noble Kinsmen has furnished critics with a mul- titude of pleasant difficulties. Even a novice, in reading the play for the first time, must detect the impression of two different minds upon it ; and, since it was believed that those two were Shakespeare and Fletcher, every resource of criti- cism has been employed to determine the share of each. The tests applied have been intellectual and metrical : Has a given scene those imaginative qualities peculiar to Shake- speare? Has its versification his familiar style? The latter test is perhaps the more helpful; for Fletcher adopted, whether from preference or carelessness, a form of blank verse by which he can usually be recognized. More fre- quently than any of his contemporaries, he writes lines with a double ending. Again, Shakespeare employs "run-on Unes " — those whose meaning does not stop at the end of a verse — much more freely than Fletcher. The construction of the play gives further hints. Besides the main story of the two Kinsmen, there is the subordinate story of the gaol- er's daughter. Her mad-scenes, drawn without pathos or much skill, are evidently copied from Ophelia's. Indeed, the style of the prose passages, and the commonplaceness of the secondary characters, afford other clues as to their authorship. Nevertheless, it must not be inferred that all the inferior work is Fletcher's ; one of the finest scenes in the play — the dialogue of Palamon and Arcite in prison — was almost certainly written by him. Concerning the date of its composition, we have only vague suggestions. It must have come between 1603 or 1604, — the latest date assigned to Hamlet, and 16 13, when Shakespeare retired to Stratford. As Fletcher's talents began to be renowned only about 1607, «4 PREFACE. and as he worked with Shakespeare on Henry VIII after that time, we may probably assign The Two Noble Kinsmen to the period between 1608 and 16 12. It may well be, as Mr. Skeat suggests, that the play in its present form was revised by Fletcher, and even that parts of Shakespeare's share were altered by him after Shakespeare's death. As I have given in the notes the opinions of the critics most com- petent to decide the question of authorship, I need not pur- sue the matter here, and will only add that The Two Noble Kinsmen deserves to be known and admired because it is, first of all, a fine drama ; that it happens to be a first-rate puzzle in literary criticism, is a minor reason for its repub- lication. Of John Webster's personal history we can learn nothing. A few entries in Henslowe's Diary, of payments made to \\'ebster for theatrical properties, a few dates of the per- formances of his plays — and " the rest is silence." The first mention of him is in 1601, as the author of The Guise, or the Massacre of Fra7ice, which may have been, as Dyce suggests, only a rifacimento of Marlowe's piece ; together with Dekker, he wrote Westward Ho and Northzvard Ho, published in 1607 ; The IVliite Devil \v2A printed in 161 2; The Duchess of Malfi in 1623 (but performed earlier) ; long aftenvards, in 1654, Appius atid Virgifiia issued from the press. On one title-page Webster is styled " merchant- tailor," and there are commendatory epigraphs by Middle- ton, Rowley, and Ford. All that we know of his character we glean from two or three short addresses to the reader, and from two dedications : these show him to have been cc^nscious of his own powers, yet modest ; not without a dignified contempt of the opinions of the majority of play- goers, who, he says, " resemble those ignorant asses, who. PREFACE. 15 visiting stationers' shops, their use is not to inquire for good books, but new books." " To those who report I was a long time finishing this tragedy," he continues, in the preface to The White Devil, " I confess, I do not write with a goose quill winged with two feathers ; and if they will needs make it my fault, I must answer them with that of Euripides to Alcestides, a tragic writer. Alcestides objecting that Eurip- ides had only, in three days, composed three verses, whereas himself had written three hundred, ' Thou tellest truth,' quoth he, ' but here's the difference, — thine shall only be read for three days, whereas mine shall continue three ages.' Detraction is the sworn friend to ignorance : for mine own part, I have ever truly cherished my good opinion of other men's worthy labors ; especially of that full and heightened style of Master Chapman ; the labored and understanding works of Master Jonson ; the no less worthy composures of the both worthily excellent Master Beaumont and Master Fletcher; and lastly (without wrong, last to be named), the right happy and copious industry of Master Shakespeare, Master Dekker, and Master Heywood j wishing what I write may be read by their light ; protesting that, in the strength of mine own judgment, I know them so worthy, that though I rest silent in my own work, yet to most of theirs I dare (without flattery) fix that of Martial, JVon norunt haec momi- menta inoriP Generous to his fellow-craftsmen, not fawning to the " groundlings " nor servile to his patrons, that is all that, from too scanty evidence, we can infer about Webster, the man ; of the dramatist, we have at least two works which reveal his astonishing genius. As long as The White Devil and The Duchess of Malfi are read, so long will John Web- ster's title to rank among the four or five supreme tragic writers of the world be open to the scrutiny of all. ,6 PREFACE. It has been the fashion of some critics to speak of Webster as a strange and terrible genius, a sort of ogre who delighted in bloody scenes by day, and supped nightly with horrors ; or as a fellow of morbid imagination, whose favorite haunts were church-yards and dark charnel-houses, who gloated over chronicles of crime, and had no other purpose in writ- ing, save that of causing a vulgar shudder to ripple over the shoulders of his hearers. If these views were correct, we might dismiss him and his plays as summarily as we dismiss the latest melodrama with its sheet-iron thunder and pro- miscuous slaughters. But these views are not correct, and to understand such a play as The Duchess of Main we must recall the state of society throughout a large portion of Europe during the sixteenth century. Webster needed not to appeal to his imagination for materials so terrible : the history of almost any Italian city, in any decade of that century, could supply them. From the court of the Vatican down to that of a princeling in Perugia or Mantua, abominable vices, refined cruelty, atrocious crimes, were common : ties of kindred were no restraint upon the cravings of lust or of ambition ; pledges sealed by oath, promises bound by honor, melted as the snow melts in April, for there was no sanctity in religion, no self-respect in men ; selfishness, insatiate and unscrupulous, directed the policy of states and the actions of individuals. Personal courage, which gives to the bloody deeds of a less enlightened time some show of fairness, had withered ; this was the age when treachery was reduced to a fine art, — when poison was sprinkled on a rose and smeared on the door-latch or the missal, — when the sword was exchanged for the dagger, which never struck in front, — when reputations could be done to death by lago-insinua- tions as surely as the body by subtle, invisible poisons. The PREFACE. 1 7 glorious seeds of the Renaissance had produced in Italy this upas-forest, covered with splendid but deadly blossoms. The current religion did not supply moral leaven adequate to so rapid an intellectual growth, and there was no senti- ment of nationality to counteract the tendency towards indi- vidualism. What thoughtful man, be he a rationalist or a dogmatist, can behold such periods without amazement, and without realizing that the problem of human destiny is infi- nitely complex and unspeakably tragic ? And John Webster sought, merely by presenting an episode typical of hundreds, — nay, of an epoch, — to show the actual terror and tragedy of life, that must be reckoned with by every one who would estimate its possibilities and its purpose. Unlike Dante, his Duchess needed to be transported to hell by no vision : her very surroundings were hell, as they must have been to any pure and noble man or woman. In the contrast between her character and her conditions lies the real tragedy ; the terrific ordeals which test but do not overcome her fortitude — scenes which only Webster could depict — are but accessory and external. It may be urged, indeed, that her sufferings were unwarranted, because she was innocent : to this it is sufficient to reply : " Such is the fact ; if only the wicked suffered, there would be no prob- lem of evil ; neither art nor ethics can be true, if they gar- ble facts." And because Webster recognized this spiritual truth, he is profoundly moral ; and because he was able to embody it in the concrete, he is among the few supreme tragic poets of the world. In his play, as often happens in real life, the virtuous seem to be defeated, the wicked to be victorious, but the triumph and the defeat are only appar- ent : virtue remains uncontaminated, — there is its reward ; sin remains unregenerate, — there is its punishment. " Merely ^ 8 PREFACE. t ) live," said Socrates, " is nothing ; a good life is every- thing." And Webster, after painting with inexorable fidelity and supreme power the tragic career of his heroine, con- cludes, — " I have ever thought Nature doth nothing so great for great men As when she's pleased to make them lords of truth: Integrity of life is fame's best friend, Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end." It is necessary to make this brief analysis in order to pre- l)are readers for a right understanding of Webster; they will need no guide to show them his more patent merits. His detached thoughts, clear and compressed as diamonds ; his revelations of a character in a line ; his sombre sub- limity ; his naturalness amid almost preternatural circum- stances, — these characteristics of his genius need no elucidation. He had not Shakespeare's skill in dramatic construction ; nor Shakespeare's complete mastery of verse, but he had, within a narrower range, an imagination as pene- trating and as vivifying as Shakespeare's, and a moral sense akin to that which expresses itself in Macbeth and in Lear. From Marlowe to Webster is less than thirty years, less than an average lifetime ; yet within that brief period the Elizabethan Drama blossomed and withered. After Web- ster's, there is no great name in the Drama. English Poetry, indeed, did not die, but its subsequent glories have been epic, lyric, and descriptive ; it has become introspective and personal, and has left the more diffuse and less permanent art o{ fiction to incarnate in objective creations the passions and vicissitudes of human life. .\ word should be added concerning the rule which I liave followed in editing these five plays. I have made PREFACE. t9 the notes as brief as possible, keeping in mind that this volume is to be read as literature, and not as a text-book to furnish puzzles in antiquarian difficulties nor in philological niceties. I have compared the explanations of the best editors, and adopted the best, supplementing them from my own researches where it seemed necessary. I have set the notes at the bottom of each page, rather than at the end of the book, so that the reader can see at a glance whether the information he seeks is there, or not : those who, like my- self, have often wasted time by turning to the back of a volume only to find that the editor has passed over without comment the word they wished him to explain, will, I trust, approve of this arrangement. 20 BIBLIOGRAPHY. BIBLIOGRAPHY. For the benefit of those who wish to pursue their reading in the Elizabethan Drama, the following short bibliography is added : — Marlowe. Edited by Dyce, " The Old Dramatists " : new edit.; 1887. Edited by BuUen, 1886. JONSON. Complete works edited by Gifford, 181 6; new edit., i860. Beaumont and Fletcher. Edited by Darley, " The Old Dramatists," new edit., 1883. Two Noble Kinsmen. The edition by Littledale (A^ew Shakspere Society publications, Series II, 7, 8, 1 5) is exhaustive. For students, Skeat's edition, 1875, is very convenient; Rolfe's, 1883, is also excellent. See also essays by Spalding, Hickson, Furnivall, Fleay, and Swinburne. Webster. Edited by Dyce, " The Old Dramatists." Also Swinburne's admirable essay. Nineteenth Century, 1886, Vol. XIX. The chief works of all these dramatists are also republished in the recent " Mermaid Series." Charles Lamb's Specimens of English Dramatic Poets, and Leigh Hunt's Selections from Beaumont and Fletcher, are chosen with rare taste, and are as satisfactory as fragments can ever be. The chapters in Taine's English Literature referring to the Elizabethan Drama, may be consulted for a foreigner's opinion, although they seem to me to lack spiritual insight. I. THE JEW OF MALTA. By Christopher Marlowe. Probably written in 1589 or 1590: acted in 1591, with Alleyn as Barabas. Kean brought out an adaptation of the play at the Drury-Lane Theatre in 18 18. The source of the story has not been discovered. THE lEW OF MALTA. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Ferneze, Governor of Malta. LODOVViCK, his Son. Selim Calymath, Son of the Grand Seignior. Martin del Bosco, Vice-Admiral of Spain. Mai'HIAs, a Gentleman. Barabas, a wealthy Jew. ITHAMORE, his Slave. PILIA-BORSA, a Bully. JACOMO. U^j^^3^ Barnardine, ) Scene Two Merchants. Three Jews. Knights, Bassoes, Officers, Guard, Messengers, Slaves, and Carpen- ters. Katharine, Mother of Mathias. Abigail, Daughter of Barabas. Bellamira, a Courtesan. Abbess. Two Nuns. Machiavel, Speaker of the Pro- logue. Malta. THE PROLOGUE. Enter Machiavfx. Machiavel. Albeit the world thinks Machiavel^ is dead, Yet was his soul but flown beyond the Alps, And now the Guise ^ is dead, is come from France, To view this land, and frolic with his friends. 1 Machiavelli, the Florentine statesman, died in 1527. His name was long a synonym for political perfidy and cold-blooded cruelty. 2 The Duke of Guise, organizer of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, in 1572, was assassinated in 1588. 23 24 THE JEW* OF MALTA. [prologue. To some perhaps my name is odious, Rut such as love me guard me from their tongues ; And let them know that I am Machiavel, And weigh not men, and therefore not men's words. Admired I am of those that hate me most. Though some speak openly against my books, lo Yet they will read me, and thereby attain To Peter's chair : and when they cast me off, Are poisoned by my chmbing followers. I count religion but a childish toy. And hold there is no sin but ignorance. Birds of the air will tell of murders past ! I am ashamed to hear such fooleries. Many will talk of title to a crown : What right had Caesar to the empery? Might first made kings, and laws were then most sure 20 When like the Draco's they were writ in blood. Hence comes it that a strong-built citadel Commands much more than letters can import ; Which maxim had but Phalaris observed, He had never bellowed, in a brazen bull, Of great ones' envy. Of the poor petty wights Let me be envied and not pitied ! But whither am I bound ? I come not, I, To read a lecture here in Britain, But to present the tragedy of a Jew, 30 Who smiles to see how full his bags are crammed. Which money was not got without my means. I crave but this — grace him as he deserves, And let him not be entertained the worse Because he favours me. \_Exit. SCENE I.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 25 ACT I. Scene I. — Barabas discovered in his Counting-house, with Heaps of Gold before him. Bar. So that of thus much that return was made : And of the third part of the Persian ships, There was the venture summed and satisfied. As for those Sabans, and the men of Uz, That bought my Spanish oils and wines of Greece, Here have I purst their paltry silverlings.^ Fie ; what a trouble 'tis to count this trash. Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay The things they traffic for with wedge of gold, Whereof a man may easily in a day 10 Tell ^ that which may maintain him all his life. The needy groom that never fingered groat, Would make a miracle of thus much coin : But he whose steel-barred coffers are crammed full. And all his lifetime hath been tired. Wearying his fingers' ends with telling it, Would in his age be loth to labour so. And for a pound to sweat himself to death. Give me the merchants of the Indian mines. That trade in metal of the purest mould ; 20 The wealthy Moor, that in the eastern rocks Without control can pick his riches up, And in his house heap pearls like pebble-stones. Receive them free, and sell them by the weight ; Bags of fiery opals, sapphires, and amethysts, 1 Silver coins ; cf. Isaiah vii, 23. 2 Count, 26 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT I, Jacinths, hard topaz, grass-green emeralds, Beauteous rubies, sparkling diamonds, And seld-seen^ costly stones of so great price, As one of them indifferently rated, And of a carat of this quantity, 3c May serve in peril of calamity To ransom great kings from captivity. This is the ware wherein consists my wealth ; .\nd thus methinks should men of judgment frame Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade, And as their wealth increaseth, so inclose Infinite riches in a little room. But now how stands the wind? Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?- Ha ! to the east? yes : see, how stand the vanes? 40 East and by south : why then I hope my ships I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks : Mine argosies from Alexandria, Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail. Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea. But who comes here? Enter a Merchant. How now ? Merch. Barabas, thy ships are safe, Riding in Malta-road : and all the merchants 5c 1 Seldom seen. 2 A stuffed kingfisher (the halcyon), suspended by a string, was sup- posed 10 show the direction of the wind. Halcyon days were calm days, the belief being that the weather was always calm when kingfishers were breeding. Cf. King Lear, ii. 2; Sir T. Browne, Vulgar Errors, lii, 10. SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 27 With Other merchandise are safe arrived. And have sent me to know whether yourself Will come and custom ' them. Bar. The ships are safe thou say'st, and richly fraught. Merch. They are. Bar. Why then go bid them come ashore, And bring with them their bills of entry : I hope our credit in the custom-house AVill serve as well as I were present there. (tO send 'em threescore camels, thirty mules, And twenty waggons to bring up the ware. 60 But art thou master in a ship of mine, And is thy credit not enough for that? Merch. The very custom barely comes to more Than many merchants of the town are worth, And therefore far exceeds my credit, sir. Bar. Go tell 'em the Jew of Malta sent thee, man : Tush ! who amongst 'em knows not Barabas ? Merch. I go. Bar. So then, there's somewhat come. Sirrah, which of my ships art thou master of? Merch. Of the Speranza, sir. Bar. And saw'st thou not 70 Mine argosy at Alexandria ? Thou could'st not come from Egypt, or by Caire, But at the entry there into the sea. Where Nilus pays his tribute to the main, Thou needs must sail by Alexandria. Merch. I neither saw them, nor inquired of them : But this we heard some of our seamen say, They wondered how you durst with so much wealth 1 Pay the duty on them. 28 'i'HE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT I. i'rust such a crazed vessel, and so far. Bar. Tush, they are wise ! I know her and her strength. Sc But go, go thou thy ways, discharge thy ship, And bid my factor bring his loading in. \_Exit Merch. And yet I wonder at this argosy. Enter a second Merchant. 2d Me7-ch. Thine argosy from Alexandria, Know, Barabas, doth ride in Malta-road, Laden with riches, and exceeding store Of Persian silks, of gold, and orient pearl. Bar. How chance you came not with those other ships That sailed by Egypt ? 2d Merch. Sir, we saw 'em not. Bar. Belike they coasted round by Candy shore gc About their oils, or other businesses. But 'twas ill done of you to come so far Without the aid or conduct of their ships. 2d Merch. Sir, we were wafted by a Spanish fleet, That never left us till within a league. That had the galleys of the Turk in chase. Bar. O i — they were going up to Sicily : — * Well, go, And bid the merchants and my men despatch And come ashore, and see the fraught^ discharged. loc 2d Merch. I go. \_Exit Bar. Thus trowls - our fortune in by land and sea, And thus are we on every side enriched : These are the blessings promised to the Jews, And herein was old Abram's happiness : 1 Freight. 2 Rolls. SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 29 What more may heaven do for earthly man Than thus to pour out plenty in their laps, Ripping the bowels of the earth for them, Making the seas their servants, and the winds To drive their substance with successful blasts? no Who hateth me but for my happiness ? Or who is honoured now but for his wealth ? Rather had I a Jew be hated thus, Than pitied in a Christian poverty : For I can see no fruits in all their faith. But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride, Which methinks fits not their profession. Haply some hapless man hath conscience. And for his conscience lives in beggary. They say we are a scattered nation : 12c I cannot tell, but we have scambled ^ up More wealth by far than those that brag of faith. There's Kirriah Jairim, the great Jew of Greece, Obed in Bairseth,^ Nones in Portugal, Myself in Malta, some in Italy, Many in France, and wealthy every one ; Ay, wealthier far than any Christian, I must confess we come not to be kings ; That's not our fault : alas, our number's few. And crowns come either by succession, 13c Or urged by force ; and nothing violent Oft have I heard tell, can be permanent. Give us a peaceful rule, make Christians kings, That thirst so much for principality. I have no charge, nor many children, 1 Collected, used for scrambled, as in Henry V, i, I. 2 Beyrout ? 30 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT 1 But one sole daughter, whom I hold as dear As Agamemnon did his Iphigen : And all I have is hers. But who comes here? Enter three Jews.^ jstjew. Tush, tell not me ; 'twas done of policy, 2d Jew. Come, therefore, let us go to Barabas, 140 For he can counsel best in these affairs ; And here he comes. Bar. AVhy, how now, countrymen ! Why flock you thus to me in multitudes? What accident's betided to the Jews? jstJew. A fleet of warlike galleys, Barabas, Are come from Turkey, and lie in our road : And they this day sit in the council-house To entertain them and their embassy. Bar. Why, let 'em come, so they come not to war ; Or let 'em war, so we be conquerors — 150 Nay, let 'em combat, conquer, and kill all ! {Asii/e) So they spare me, my daughter, and my wealth. I St Jew. Were it for confirmation of a league, They would not come in warlike manner thus. 2d Jew. I fear their coming will afflict us all. Bar. Fond ^ men ! what dream you of their multitudes? What need they treat of peace that are in league ? The Turks and those of Malta are in league. Tut, tut, there is some other matter in't. Jstjc7v. Why, Barabas, they come for peace or war. 160 Bar. Haply for neither, but to pass along Towards Venice by the Adriatic Sea ; 1 Here the scene is shifted to a street, or to the Exchange. - Foolish. SCENE 1.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 3I With whom they have attempted many times. But never could effect their stratagem. 3d Jew. And very wisely said. It may be so. 2d Jew. But there's a meeting in the senate-house, And all the Jews in Malta must be there. Bar. Hum ; all the Jews in Malta must be there? Ay, like enough, why then let every man Provide him, and be there for fashion-sake. 17c If anything shall there concern our state, Assure yourselves I'll look {aside) unto myself. 1st Jew. I know you will. Well, brethren, let us go. 2d Jew. Let's take our leaves. Farewell, good Barabas. Bar. Farewell, Zaareth ; farewell, Temainte. \^Exeunt Jews. And, Barabas, now search this secret out ; Summon thy senses, call thy wits together : These silly men mistake the matter clean. Long to the Turk did Malta contribute ; Which tribute, all in policy I fear, 180 The Turks have let increase to such a sum As all the wealth of Malta cannot pay ; And now by that advantage thinks belike To seize upon the town : ay, that he seeks. Howe'er the world go, I'll make sure for one. And seek in time to intercept the worst, Warily guarding that which I ha' got. Ego mihimet sum semper pro ximus} Why, let 'em enter, let 'em take the town. \_Exit. 1 Misquotation from Terence, Andria. iv, i, 12, Proximus sum egomet mihi. ^■, THE JEW OF MALTA. [act l Scene II. — Inside the Council-house. Enter Ferneze, Governor of Malta, Knights, and Officers ; met b\ CalyiMATH and Bassoes of the Turk. Fern. Now, Bassoes,^ what demand you at our hands? jst Bas. Know, Knights of Malta, that we came from Rhodes, From Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles That lie betwixt the Mediterranean seas. Fern. What's Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles To us, or Malta? What at our hands demand ye? Cal. The ten years' tribute that remains unpaid. Fern. Alas ! my lord, the sum is over-great, I hope your highness will consider us. Cal. I wish, grave governor, 'twere in my power ic To favour you, but 'tis my father's cause, Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally. Fern. Then give us leave, great Selim Calymath. [ Consults apart with the Knights. Cal. Stand all aside, and let the knights determine, •And send to keep our galleys under sail, For happily ^ we shall not tarry here ; Now, governor, say, how are you resolved ? Fern. Thus : since your hard conditions are such That you will needs have ten years' tribute past, We may have time to make collection 20 Amongst the inhabitants of Malta for't. 1st Bas. That's more than is in our commission. Cal. What, Callipine ! a little courtesy. Let's know their time, perhaps it is not long ; i Pashas, formerly spelt bashaws. 2 Haply. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 33 And 'tis more kingly to obtain by peace Than to enforce conditions by constraint. What respite ask you, governor? Fern. But a month. Cal. We grant a month, but see you keep your promise. Now launch our galleys back again to sea, Where we'll attend the respite you have ta'en, 30 And for the money send our messenger. Farewell, great governor and brave Knights of Malta. Fern. And all good fortune wait on Calymath ! \_Exeuut Calymath and Bassoes. Go one and call those Jews of Malta hither : Were they not summoned to appear to-day? Off. They were, my lord, and here they come. E7iter Barabas and three Jews. 1st Knight. Have you determined what to say to them? Fern. Yes ; give me leave : — and, Hebrews, now come near. From the Emperor of Turkey is arrived Great Selim Calymath, his highness' son, 40 To levy of us ten years' tribute past ; Now then, here know that it concerneth us — Bar. Then, good my lord, to keep your quiet still, Your lordship shall do well to let them have it. Fern. Soft, Barabas, there's more 'longs to't than so. To what this ten years' tribute will amount, That we have cast, but cannot compass it By reason of the wars that robbed our store ; And therefore are we to request your aid. Bar. Alas, my lord, we are no soldiers : 50 And what's our aid against so great a prince? •j^ THE JEW OF MALTA. [act I. jst Knight. Tut, Jew, we know thou art no soldier ; Thou art a merchant and a moneyed man, And 'tis thy money, Barabas, we seek. Bar. How, my lord ! my money? Fern. Thine and the rest. For, to be short, amongst you't must be had. 1st Jew. Alas, my lord, the most of us are poor. Fern. Then let the rich increase your portions. Bar. Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed ? 2d Knight. Have strangers leave with us to get theii wealth ? 6q Then let them with us contribute. Bar. How ! equally? Fern. No, Jew, like infidels. For through our sufferance of your hateful lives, Who stand accursed in the sight of Heaven, These taxes and afflictions are befallen, .\nd therefore thus we are determined. Read there the articles of our decrees. Officer {reads). "First, the tribute-money of the Turks shall all be levied amongst the Jews, and each of them to pay one half of his estate." 70 Bar. How, half his estate? (Aside) I hope you mean not mine. Fern. Read on. Of. (reading). "Secondly, he that denies ^ to pay shall straight become a Christian." Bar. How! a Christian? {Asid') Hum, what's here to do? Off. {reading). " Lasdy, he that denies this shall abso- lutely lose all he has." 1 Refuses. SCENE ii.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 35 The three Jews. O my lord, we will give half. 80 Bar. O earth-mettled villains, and no Hebrews bom ! And will you basely thus submit yourselves To leave your goods to their arbitrament ? Fe7-n. Why, Barabas, wilt thou be christened? Bar. No, governor, I will be no convertite.^ Fern. Then pay thy half. Bar. Why, know you what you did by this device ? Half of my substance is a city's wealth. Governor, it was not got so easily ; Nor will I part so slightly therewithal. 9c Fern. Sir, half is the penalty of our decree, Either pay that, or we will seize on all. Bar. Corpo di Dio ! stay ! you shall have the half; let me be used but as my brethren are. Fern. No, Jew, thou hast denied the articles. And now it cannot be recalled. \_Exeunt Officers, on a sigtifrom Ferneze. Bar. Will you then steal my goods? Is theft the ground of your religion ? Fern. No, Jew, we take particularly thine To save the ruin of a multitude : 100 And better one want for the common good Than many perish for a private man : Yet, Barabas, we will not banish thee, But here in Malta, where thou gott'st thy wealth, Live still ; and, if thou canst, get more. Bar. Christians, what or how can I multiply? Of naught is nothing made. jst Knight. From naught at first thou cam'st to little wealth, 1 Convert ; so used in As You Like It and King John. 36 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT L no From little unto more, from more to most : If your first curse fall heavy on thy head, And make thee poor and scorned of all the world, I'is not our fault, but thy inherent sin. Bar. What, bring you Scripture to confirm your wrongs? !Yeach me not out of my possessions. Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are : But say the tribe that I descended of Were all in general cast away from sin, Shall I be tried by their transgression? The man that dealeth righteously shall live : And which of you can charge me otherwise? 12c Fern. Out, wretched Baral'as ! Sham'st thou not thus to justify thyself, As if we knew not thy profession? If thou rely upon thy righteousness. Be patient and thy riches will increase. Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness : .And covetousness, O, 'tis a monstrous sin. Bar. .Ay, but theft is worse : tush ! take not from me then, For that is theft ! and if you rob me thus, I must be forced to steal and compass* more. 13c I si Knif^ht. Grave governor, listen not to his exclaims. Convert his mansion to a nunnery ; His house will harbour many holy nuns. Fern. It shall be so. Re-enter Officers. Now, officers, have you done? Off. Ay, my lord, we have seized upon the goods 1 Cheat. SCENE ii.T THE JEW OF MALTA. 37 And wares of Barabas, which being valuedj Amount to more than all the wealth of Malta. And of the other we have seized half. Fern. Then we'll take order for the residue. Bar. Well then, my lord, say, are you satisfied? 140 You have my goods, my money, and my wealth, My ships, my store, and all that I enjoyed ; And, having all, you can request no more ; Unless your unrelenting flinty hearts Suppress all pity in your stony breasts, And now shall move you to bereave my life. Fern. No, Barabas, to stain our hands with blood Is far from us and our profession. Bar. Why, I esteem the injury far less To take the lives of miserable men icc Than be the causers of their misery. You have my wealth, the labour of my life, The comfort of mine age, my children's hope. And therefore ne'er distinguish of the wrong. Fern. Content thee, Barabas, thou hast naught but right. Bar. Ycur extreme right does me exceeding wrong : But take it to you, i' the devil's name. Fern. Come, let us in, and gather of these goods The money for this tribute of the Turk. 1st Knight. 'Tis necessary that be looked unto : i6c For if we break our day, we break the league. And that will prove but simple ^ policy. \_Exeunt all except Barabas and the Jews, Bar. Ay, policy ! that's their profession. And not simplicity, as they suggest. The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of Heaven, 1 Foolish. ^8 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT I. Earth's barrenness, and all men's hatred Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor! And here upon my knees, striking the earth, I ban their souls to everlasting pains And extreme tortures of the fiery deep, r7c That thus have dealt with me in my distress. jstjnc. O yet be patient, gentle Barabas. Bar. O silly brethren, born to see this day ; Why stand you thus unmoved with my laments ? Why weep you not to think upon my wrongs ? Why pine not I, and die in this distress? jst Jno. ^Vhy, Barabas, as hardly can we brook The cruel handling of ourselves in this ; Thou seest they have taken half our goods. Bar. Why did you yield to their extortion ? i8c You were a multitude, and I but one : And of me only have they taken all. jst Je7i<. Yet, brother Barabas, remember Job. Bar. What tell you me of Job? I wot his wealth Was written thus : he had seven thousand sheep, Three thousand camels, and two hundred yoke Of labouring oxen, and five hundred She-asses : but for every one of those, Had they been valued at indifferent rate, I had at home, and in mine argosy, igc And other ships that came from Egypt last, As much as would have bought his beasts and him, .\nd yet have kept enough to live upon : So that not he, but I may curse the day. Thy fatal birth-day, forlorn Barabas ; And henceforth wish for an eternal night, That clouds of darkness may inclose my flesh, SCENE 11.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 3g And hide these extreme sorrows from mine eyes ; For only I have toiled to inherit here The months of vanity and loss of time, aoc And painful nights, have been appointed me. 2d Jew. Good Barabas, be patient. Bar. Ay, I pray, leave me in my patience. You, Were ne'er possessed of wealth, are pleased with want ; But give him liberty at least to mourn, That in a field amidst his enemies Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarmed. And knows no means of his recovery : Ay, let me. sorrow for this sudden chance ; 'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak ; 2to Great injuries are not so soon forgot. 1st Jew. Come, let us leave him ; in his ireful mood Our words will but increase his ecstasy.^ 2d Jew. On, then ; but trust me 'tis a misery To see a man in such affliction. — Farewell, Barabas ! \_Exeunt the three Jews.^ Bar. Ay, fare you well. See the simplicity of these base slaves, Who, for the villains have no wit themselves, Think me to be a senseless lump of clay That will with every water wash to dirt : 22c No, Barabas is born to better chance, And framed of finer mould than common men, That measure naught but by the present time. A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, And cast with cunning for the time to come : For evils are apt to happen every day. — 1 Violent emotion. 2 Dyce suggests that the scene is now sh tied to a street near Barabas house. 40 THE JEW OF MALTA. Fact X. Enter Abigail. But whither wends my beauteous Abigail ? ! what has made my lovely daughter sad? What, woman ! moan not for a little loss : Thy father hath enougli in store for thee. zy: Abig. Not for myself, but ag^d Barabas : Father, for thee lamenteth Abigail : But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears, And, urged thereto with my afflictions. With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house, And in the senate reprehend them all, And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair, Till they reduce ' the wrongs done to my father. Bar. No, Abigail, things past recovery Are hardly cured with exclamations. 240 Be silent, daughter, sufferance breeds ease, And time may yield us an occasion Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn. Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond As negligently to forego so much Without provision for thyself and me : Ten thousand portagues,- besides great pearls. Rich costly jewels, and stones infinite. Fearing the worst of this before it fell, 1 closely hid. Abig. Where, father? Bar. In my house, my girl. aec Abig. Then shall they ne'er be seen of Barabas : For they have seized upon thy house and wares. ' I-csscn, (liminisli. Dyce suggests r^^fz-w.f. 2 Portuguese gold coins. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 4I Bar. But they will give me leave once more, I trow, To go into my house. Abig. That may they not : For there I left the governor placing nuns, Displacing me ; and of thy house they mean To make a nunnery, where none but their own sect' Must enter in ; men generally barred. Bar. My gold ! my gold ! and all my wealth is gone ! You partial heavens, have I deserved this j)lague ? 26c What, will you thus oppose me, luckless stars, To make me desperate in my poverty? And knowing me impatient in distress. Think me so mad as I will hang myself, That I may vanish o'er the earth in air, And leave no memory that e'er I was? No, I will live ; nor loathe I this my life : And, since you leave me in the ocean thus To sink or swim, and put me to my shifts, I'll rouse my senses and awake myself. 270 Daughter ! I have it : thou perceiv'st the plight Wherein these Christians have oppressed me : Be ruled by me, for in extremity We ought to make bar of no policy. Abig. Father, whate'er it be to injure them That have so manifestly wronged us, What will not Abigail attempt? Bar. Why, so ; Then thus, thou told'st me they have turned my house Into a nunnery, and some nuns are there ? Abig. I did. Bar. Then, Abigail, there must my girl 28c iSex. 42 THE JEW OF MALTA. UCT 1 Entreat the abbess to be entertained. Abig. How, as a nun ? Bar. Ay, daughter, for religion Hides many mischiefs from suspicion. At>ig. Ay, but, father, they will suspect me there. Bar. Let 'em suspect ; but be thou so precise As they may think it done of holiness. Entreat 'em fair, and give them friendly speech, And seem to them as if thy sins were great. Till thou hast gotten to be entertained. Abig. Thus, father, shall I much dissemble. Bar. Tush ! 29c As good dissemble that thou never mean'st, As first mean truth and then dissemble it, — A counterfeit profession is better Than unseen hypocrisy.' Abig. Well, father, say that I be entertained, What then shall follow? Bar. This shall follow then ; There have I hid, close underneath the plank That runs along the upper-chamber floor, The gold and jewels which I kept for thee. But here they come ; be cunning, Abigail. 300 Abig. Then, father, go with me. Bar. No, Abigail, in this It is not necessary I be seen : For I will seem offended with thee for't : Be close, my girl, for this must fetch my gold. [_They retire. Enter Friar Ja<„-omo, Friar Barxardine, Abbess, and a Nun. F. Jac. Sisters, we now are almost at the new-made nunnery. ' This passage is corrupt. SCENE II.] THE lEW OF MALTA. 43 Abb. The better ; for we love not to be seen : 'Tis thirty winters long since some of us Did stray so far amongst the multitude. F.Jac. But, madam, this house And waters ^ of this new-made nunnery 310 Will much delight you. Abb. It may be so ; but who comes here ? [Abigail comes forward. Abig. Grave abbess, and you, happy virgins' guide. Pity the state of a distressed maid. Abb. What art thou, daughter? Abig. The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew, The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas ; Sometime the owner of a goodly house, Which they have now turned to a nunnery. Abb. Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us? 320 Abig. Fearing the afflictions which my father feels Proceed from sin, or want of faith in us, I'd pass away my Hfe in penitence. And be a novice in your nunnery. To make atonement for my labouring soul. F. Jac. No doubt, brother, but this proceedeth of the spirit. F. Barn. Ay, and of a moving spirit too, brother ; but come. Let us entreat she may be entertained. Abb. Well, daughter, we admit you for a nun. Abig. First let me as a novice learn to frame 330 "vly solitary Hfe to your strait laws, And let me lodge where I was wont to he, I do not doubt, by your divine precepts 1 BuUen suggests cloisters. 44 THE JEW OF MALTA. (ACT L And mine own industry, but to profit much. Bar. {aside). As much, 1 hope, as all I hid is worth. Abb. Come, daughter, follow us. Bar. {coming forward) . Why, how now, Abigail, What makest thou amongst these hateful Christians ? F. Jac. Hinder her not, thou man of little faith, For she has mortified herself. Biir. How ! mortified ? F. Jac. And is admitted to the sisterhood. 340 Bar. Child of perdition, and thy father's shame ! WTiat wilt thou do among these hateful fiends? I charge thee on my blessing that thou leave These devils, and their damned heresy. Abig. Father, give me — ^ \_She goes to him. Bar. Nay, back, Abigail. (And think upon the jewels and the gold ; \_Aside to Abigail in a whisper. The board is marked thus that covers it.) Away, accursed from thy father's sight. F.Jac. Barabas, although thou art in mischief. And wilt not see thine own afflictions, 350 Yet let thy daughter be no longer blind. Bar. Blind friar, I reck not thy persuasions, (The board is marked thus^ that covers it.) \_Aside to Abigail in a whisper. For I had rather die than see her thus. Wilt thou forsake me too in my distress, Seduced daughter? {Aside in a whisper) (Go forget not,) Becomes it Jews to be so credulous ? (To-morrow early I'll be at the door.) \_Aside in a whisper. 1 Dycc suggests /arrive me, - The original edition has + inserted here, to indicate the sign Barabas was to make. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 45 No, come not at me ; if thou wilt be damned, Forget me, see me not, and so be gone. 360 (Farewell, remember to-morrow morning.) [^Asi'de in a whispet. Out, out, thou wretch ! \_Exeunt, on one side Barabas, on the other side Friars, Abbess, Nun, and Abigail; as they are going out, Ejiter Mathias. Math. Who's this? fair Abigail, the rich Jew's daughter. Become a nun ! her father's sudden fall Has humbled her and brought her down to this : Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love. Than to be tirfed out with orisons. Enter LoDOWiCK. Lod. Why, how now, Don Mathias ! in a dump ? Math. Believe me, noble Lodowick, I have seen The strangest sight, in my opinion, 37c That ever I beheld. Lod. What was't, I prithee? Math. A fair young maid, scarce fourteen years of age. The sweetest flower in Cytherea's field, Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitful earth, And strangely metamorphosed nun. Lod. But say, what was she ? Math. Why, the rich Jew's daughter. Lod. What, Barabas, whose goods were lately seized ? Is she so fair? Math. And matchless beautiful ; As, had you seen her, 'twould have moved your heart. ^6 THE JEV\' OF MALTA. [act n. 'i'hough countermined with walls of brass, to love, 380 Or at the least to pity. Lod. And if she be so fair as you report, ■'I'were time well spent to go and visit her : How say you, shall we? Math. I must and will, sir ; there's no remedy. Loii. .And so will I too, or it shall go hard. Farewell. Mathias. Math. Farewell, Lodowick. [_Exeunt severally. ACT II. Scent. I. — Before Barabas's House, now a Nunnery. Enter Barabas with a light. Bar. I'hus, like the sad presaging raven that tolls The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night iJoth shake contagion from her sable wings ; Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas With fatal curses towards these Christians. The uncertain pleasures of swift-footed time Have ta'en their flight, and left me in despair; And of my former riches rests no more I'ut bare remembrance, like a soldier's scar, 10 That has no further comfort for his maim. O thou, that with a fiery pillar led'st The sons of Israel through the dismal shades, Light .Abraham's offspring ; and direct the hand Of .Abigail this night ; or let the day Turn to eternal darkness after this ! SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 47 No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes, Nor quiet enter my distempered thoughts, Till I have answer of my Abigail. Enter Abigail above. Abig. Now have I happily espied a time 20 To search the plank my father did appoint ; And here behold, unseen, where I have found The gold, the pearls, and jewels, which he hid. Bar. Now I remember those old women's words, Who in my wealth ' would tell me winter's tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where treasure hath been hid : - And now methinks that I am one of those : For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope. And, when I die, here shall my spirit walk. 30 Abig. Now that my father's fortune were so good As but to be about this happy place ; 'Tis not so happy : yet when we parted last, He said he would attend me in the morn. Then, gentle sleep, where'er his body rests. Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream A golden dream, and of the sudden wake. Come and receive the treasure I have found. Bar. Bueno para todos mi ganado no era: As good go on as sit so sadly thus. ' 40 But stay, what star shines yonder in the east ? '' The loadstar of my life, if Abigail. Who's there? 1 Bullen suggests that this is a misprint {ox youth. - Cf. Hamlet, i. 1 8 Cf. Romeo and Juliet, ii, 2 : " but soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! " 48 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act ii. Abig. Who's that? Bar. Peace, Abigail, 'tis I. Abig. Then, father, here receive thy happiness. Bar. Hast ihou't? Abig. Here, {throws down the bags) hast thou't? There's more, and more, and more. Bar. O my girl, My gold, my fortune, my felicity ! Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy ! Welcome the first beginner of my bhss ! 50 O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too ! Then my desires were fully satisfied : But I will practise thy enlargement thence : O girl ! O gold ! ^ O beauty ! O my bliss ! \^Hugs the bags. Abig. Father, it draweth towards midnight now. And 'bout this time the nuns begin to wake ; To shun suspicion, therefore, let us part. Bar. Pare well, my joy, and by my fingers take A kiss from him that sends it from his soul. {^Exit Abigail above. Now Phcebus ope the eyelids of the day,- 60 And for the raven wake the morning lark. That I may hover with her in the air ; Singing o'er these, as she does o'er her young, HcrmosG placer de las dineros? \_Exit. - Cf. Shylock's " My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter ! " Mer- chant of Venice, ii, 8. - Cf. Job xli, i8: " His eyes are Hke the eyeHds of the morning; " and .M'lton, Lycidas : " Under the opening eyelids of the mom." * Spanish ; " beautiful pleasure of money." SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 49 Scene II. — The Senaie-liouse. Enter Ferneze, Martin del Bosco, and Knights. Fern. Now, captain, tell us whither thou art bound? Whence is thy ship that anchors in our road ? And why thou cam'st ashore without our leave? Bosc. Governor of Malta, hither am I bound ; My ship, the Flying Dragoji, is of Spain, And so am I : Del Bosco is my name ; Vice-admiral unto the Catholic King. jst Knight. 'Tis true, my lord, therefore entreat ^ him well. Bosc. Our fraught is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors. For late upon the coast of Gorsica, 10 Because we vailed^ not to the Turkish fleet, Their creeping galleys had us in the chase : But suddenly the wind began to rise, And then we luffed and tacked, and fought at ease : Some have we fired, and many have we sunk ; But one amongst the rest became our prize : The captain's slain, the rest remain our slaves, Of whom we would make sale in Malta here. Fern. Martin del Bosco, I have heard of thee ; Welcome to Malta, and to all of us ; 20 But to admit a sale of these thy Turks We may not, nay, we dare not give consent By reason of a tributary league. 1st Knight. Del Bosco, as thou lov'st and honour'st us,. Persuade our governor against the Turk ; This truce we have is but in hope of gold, 1 Treat. 2 Lowered not our flags. -o THE JEW OF MALTA. [act a. And with that sum he craves might we wage war. Bosc. Will Knights of Malta be in league with Turks, And buy it basely too for sums of gold ? My lord, remember that, to Europe's shame, 30 The Christian Isle of Rhodes,^ from whence you came, Was lately lost, and you were stated - here To be at deadly enmity with Turks. Fern. Captain, we know it, but our force is small. Bosc. W^hat is the sum that Calymath requires? Fern. A hundred thousand crowns. Bosc. My lord and king hath title to this isle, And he means quickly to expel you hence ; Therefore be ruled by me, and keep the gold : I'll write unto his majesty for aid, 40 And not depart until I see you free. Fern. On this condition shall thy Turks be sold : Go, officers, and set them straight in show. \_Exeunt Off. Bosco, thou shalt be Malta's general ; We and our warlike Knights will follow thee .Against these barb'rous misbelieving Turks. Bosc. So shall you imitate those you succeed : For when their hideous force environed Rhodes, Small though the number was that kept the town. They fought it out and not a man survived 50 To bring the hapless news to Christendom. Fern. So will we fight it out ; come, let's away : Proud daring Calymath, instead of gold, We'll send thee bullets wrapt in smoke and fire : ^ Claim tribute where thou wilt, we are resolved, Honour is bought with blood and not with gold. \_Exeiint. 1 Rhodes was wrested from the Knights of St. John by Solyman II, in ISM- ••i Established. a cf. King John, i, 2. SCENE III.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 51 Scene III. — The Market-place. Enter Officers with Ithamore and other Slaves. 1st Off. This is the market-place, here let 'em stand : Fear not their sale, for they'll be quickly bought. 2d Off. Every one's price is written on his back, And so much must they yield or not be sold. 1st Off. Here comes the Jew ; had not his goods been seized. He'd given us present money for them all. Enter Barabas. Bar. In spite of these swine-eating Christians, — Unchosen nation, never circumcised, Such as (poor villains !) were ne'er thought upon Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us, — 10 Am I become as wealthy as I was : They hoped my daughter would ha' been a nun ; But she's at home, and I have bought a house As great and fair as is the governor's ; And there in spite of Malta will I dwell. Having Ferneze's hand, whose heart I'll have ; Ay, and his son's too, or it shall go hard. I am not of the tribe of Levi, I, That can so soon forget an injury. We Jews can fawn like spaniels when we please : ■'o And when we grin we bite, yet are our looks As innocent and harmless as a lamb's. I learned in Florence how to kiss my hand, Heave up my shoulders when they call me dog/ 1 Cf. this passage with Shylock's speeches with Antonio ; Merchant oj Venice, i, 3. 52 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT it And duck as low as any barefoot friar; Hoping to see them starve upon a stall, Or else be gathered for in our synagogue, That, when the offering-basin comes to me, P^ven for charity I may spit into't. Here comes Don Lodowick, the governor's son, % One that I love for his good father's sake. Enter Lodowick. Lod. I hear the wealthy Jew walked this way : I'll seek him out, and so insinuate. That I may have a sight of Abigail ; For Don Mathias tells me she is fair. Bar. {aside). Now will I show myself To have more of the serpent than the dove ; That is — more knave than fool. Lod. Yond' walks the Jew ; now for fair Abigail. Bar. {aside). Ay, ay, no doubt but she's at your command. Lod. Barabas, thou know'st I am the governor's son. 41 Bar. I would you were his father, too, sir ; That's all the harm I wish you. {Aside) The slave looks Like a hog's-cheek new singed. Lod. Whither walk'st thou, Barabas ? Bar. No farther : 'tis a custom held with us, That when we speak with Gentiles like to you, We turn into the air to purge ourselves : For unto us the promise doth belong. Lod. Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond? 50 Bar. O, sir, your father had my diamonds. Yet I have one left that will serve your turn : — (Aiide) I mean my daughter : but ere he shall have her I'll sacrifice her on a pile of wood. SCENE III.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 53 I ha' the poison of the city for him,' And the white leprosy. Loci. What sparkle does it give without a foil? Bar. The diamond that I talk of ne'er was foiled : ^ — {Aside) But when he touches it, it will be foiled : — T^ord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair. 6c LoiL Is it square or pointed, pray let me know. Bar. Pointed it is, good sir — (aside) but not for you. Lod. I like it much the better. Bar. So do I too. Lod. How shows it by night? Bar. Outshines Cynthia's rays. Lod. And what's the price? Bar. {aside). Your life an if you have it. O my lord, We will not jar about the price ; come to my house And I will give't your honour {aside) with a vengeance. Lod. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first. Bar. Good sir, 70 Your father has deserved it at my hands, Who, of mere charity and Christian truth, To bring me to religious purity, And as it were in catechising sort, To make me mindful of my mortal sins. Against my will, and whether I would or no. Seized all I had, and thrust me out o' doors, And made my house a place for nuns most chaste. Lod. No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it. Bar. Ay, but, my lord, the harvest is far off. 8c And yet I know the prayers of those nuns And holy friars, having money for their pains. Are wondrous ; {aside) and indeed do no man good : i Dyce suggests that this is a misprint. 2 Defiled. 5d THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT II. And seeing they are not idle,- but still doing, 'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, I mean in fulness of perfection. LoiL Good Barabas, glance not at our holy nuns. Bar. No, but I do it through a burning zeal, — {Aside) Hoping ere long to set the house afire ; For though they do a while increase and multiply, go I'll have a saying' to that nimnery. — As for the diamond, sir, I told you of, Come home and there's no price shall make us part. Even for your honourable father's sake. — {Aside) It shall go hard but I will see your death. — But now I must be gone to buy a slave. Lod. And, Barabas, I'll bear thee company. Bar. Come then — here's the market-place. What's the price of this slave ? Two hundred crowns ! Do the Turks weigh so much ? jst Off. Sir, that's his price. loo Bar. What, can he steal that you demand so much .'' Belike he has some new trick for a purse ; And if he has, he is worth three hundred plates,- So that, being bought, the town-seal might be got To keep him for his lifetime from the gallows : The sessions day is critical to thieves, .\nd few or none 'scape but by being purged. Lod. Rat'st thou this Moor but at two hundred plates ^ jst Off. No more, my lord. Bar. Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor? no jst Off. Because he is young and has more qualities. 1 Cf. Barnes's DiviPs Charter, 1607 : " For I must have a saying to those bottels." 2 Pieces of silver. SCENE III.] THK jF.W OF MALTA. 55 Bar. What, hast the philosopher's stone ? an thou hast, break my head with it, I'll forgive thee. Slave. No, sir ; I can cut and shave. Bar. Let me see, sirrah, are you not an old shaver?^ Slave. Alas, sir ! I am a very youth. Bar. A youth? I'll buy you, and marry you to Lady Vanity," if you do well. Slave. I will serve you, sir. iig Bar. Some wicked trick or other. It may be, under colour of shaving, thou'lt cut my throat for my goods. Tell me, hast thou thy health well ? Slave, Ay, passing well. Bar. So much the worse ; I must have one that's sickly, an't be but for sparing victuals ; 'tis not a stone of beef a day will maintain you in these chops ; let me see one that's somewhat leaner. 1st Off. Here's a leaner, how like you him ? Bar. Where wast thou born ? Itha. In Thrace ; brought up in Arabia. 130 Bar. So much the better, thou art for my turn. An hundred crowns ? I'll have him ; there's the coin. \_Gives money. 1st Off. Then mark him, sir, and take him hence. Bar. (^aside) . Ay, mark him, you were best, for this is he That by my help shall do much villainy. My lord, farewell : Come, sirrah, you are mine. As for the diamond, it shall be yours ; I pray, sir, be no stranger at my house. All that I have shall be at your command. 1 This term of contempt was originally applied to priests with shaven crown. 2 An allegorical character in the old morality plays ; cf. / Henry IV, ii, 4. 56 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act ii. Enter Mathias and his Mother Katherine. Math. What makes the Jew and Lodowick so private? 14c {Aside) I fear me 'tis about fair Abigail. Bar. Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay ; ^ \_Exit Lodowick. He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear : But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes. And be revenged upon the governor. Kath. This Moor is comeliest, is he not? speak, son. Math. No, this is the better, mother ; view this well. Bar. Seem not to know me here before your mother. Lest she mistrust the match that is in hand : When you have brought her home, come to my house ; 15a Think of me as thy father ; son, farewell. Math. But wherefore talked Don Lodowick with you? Bar. Tush ! man, we talked of diamonds, not of Abigail, Kath. Tell me, Mathias, is not that the Jew? Bar. As for the comment on the Maccabees, I have it, sir, and 'tis at your command. Math. Yes, madam, and my talk with him was but About the borrowing of a book or two. Kath. Converse not with him, he's cast off from heaven. Thou hast thy crowns, fellow ; come, let's away. i6c Math. Sirrah, Jew, remember the book. Bar. Marry will I, sir. \^Exeunt Mathias and his Mother Off. Come, I have made reasonable market ; let's away. [^Exeunt Officers 7vith Slaves. Bar. Now let me know thy name, and therewithal Thy birth, condition, and profession. 1 Break off our conversation. SCENE lii.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 57 Itha. Faith, sir, my birth is but mean : my name's Ithamore, my profession what you please. Bar. Hast thou no trade ? then listen to my words. And I will teach thee that shall stick by thee : First be thou void of these affections, i;^ Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear, Be moved at nothing, see thou pity none, But to thyself smile when the Christians moan. Itha. O brave ! master, I worship your nose ^ for this. Bar. As for myself, I walk abroad o' nights ^ And kill sick people groaning under walls : Sometimes I go about and poison wells ; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, i8c See 'em go pinioned along by my door. Being young, I studied physic, and began To practise first upon the Italian ; There I enriched the priests with burials. And always kept the sextons' arms in ure ^ With digging graves and ringing dead men's knells : And after that was I an engineer, And in the wars ' twixt France and Germany, Under pretence of helping Charles the Fifth, Slew friend and enemy with my stratagems. 190 Then after that was I an usurer. And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, And tricks belonging unto brokery, 1 Barabas was represented with a large false nose. So Rowley, in his Search for Money (1609), alludes to the " artificiall Jewe of Maltaes nose." 2 In Titus Andronicus (v, i,) there is a similar catalogue of villanies. 8 Use. 5^ THE JEW OF MALTA. [act ii. I tilled the jails with bankrupts in a year. And with young orphans planted hospitals, Antl every moon made some or other mad, And now and then one hang himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll How I with interest tormented him. Hut mark how T am blest for plaguing them ; 200 I have as much coin as will buy the town. Hut tell me now, how hast thou spent thy time ? Itha. 'Faith, master, In setting Christian villages on fire. Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves. One time I was an ostler in an inn, And in the night-time secretly would I steal To travellers' chambers, and there cut their throats : Once at Jemsalem, where the pilgrims kneeled, I strewed powder on the marble stones, 21c And therewithal their knees would rankle so. That I have laughed a-good^ to see the cripples (io limping home to Christendom on stilts. Bar. Why this is something : make account of me As of thy fellow ; we are villains both : Hoth circumcised, we hate Christians both : Be true and secret, thou shalt want no gold. But stand aside, here comes Don Lodowick. Enter LoDOWiCK.-' Lod. O Barbaras, well met ; Where is the diamond you told me of? 220 ' Heartily. •^ Dyce suggests that the scene is shifted to the outside of Barabas's house. SCENE III.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 59 Bar. I have it for you, sir ; please you walk in with me : What ho, Abigail ! open the door, I say. Enter Abigail with letters. Abig. In good time, father ; here are letters come From Ormus, and the post stays here within. Bar. Give me the letters. — Daughter, do you hear, Entertain Lodowick the governor's son With all the courtesy you can afford ; {Aside') Use him as if he were a Philistine, Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love to him. He is not of the seed of Abraham. — 230 I am a little busy, sir, pray pardon me. Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake. Abig. For your sake and his own he's welcome hither. Bar. {aside). Daughter, a word more; kiss him; speak him fair, And like a cunning Jew so cast about. That ye be both made sure ^ ere you come out. Abig. O father ! Don Mathias is my love. Bar. (aside) . I know it : yet I say, make love to him ; Do, it is requisite it should be so — Nay, on my life, it is my factor's hand — 240 But go you in, I'll think upon the account. [^Exeunt Abigail and Lodowick into the house. The account is made, for Lodowick he dies. My factor sends me word a merchant's fled That owes me for a hundred tun of wine : I weigh it thus much {snapping his fingers) ; I have wealth enough. For now by this has he kissed Abigail ; 1 Betrothed. 5o THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT lU And she vows love to him, and he to her. As sure as Heaven rained manna for the Jews, So sure shall he and Don Mathias die : His father was my chiefest enemy. 250 Enter Mathias. Whither goes Don Mathias ? stay awhile. Math. Whither, but to my fair love Abigail ? Bar. Thou know'st, and Heaven can witness this is true, That I intend my daughter shall be thine. Math. Ay, Barabas, or else thou wrong'st me much. Bar. O, Heaven forbid I should have such a thought. Pardon me though I weep : the governor's son Will, whether I will or no, have Abigail : He sends her letters, bracelets, jewels, rings. Math. Does she receive them? 260 Bar. She ? No, Mathias, no, but sends them back, And when he comes, she locks herself up fast ; Yet through the keyhole will he talk to her, While she runs to the window looking out. When you should come and hale him from the door. Math. O treacherous Lodowick ! Bar. Even now as I came home, he slipt me in, And I am sure he is with Abigail. Math. I'll rouse him thence. Bar. Not for all Malta, therefore sheathe your sword ; 27c If you love me, no quarrels in my house ; But steal you in, and seem to see him not ; I'll give him such a warning ere he goes As he shall have small hopes of .\bigail. Away, for here they come. SCENE lli.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 6l Re-enter Lodowick a7id Abigail. Math. What, hand in hand ! I cannot suffer this. Bar. Mathias, as thou lovest me, not a word. Math. Well, let it pass, another time shall serve. \_Exit into the house. Lod. Barabas, is not that the widow's son ? Bar. Ay, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death. 280 Lod. My death ? what, is the base-born peasant mad ? Bar. No, no, but happily he stands in fear Of that which you, I think, ne'er dream upon. My daughter here, a paltry silly girl. Lod. Why, loves she Don Mathias? Bar. Doth she not with her smiling answer you ? Abig. {aside). He has my heart; I smile against my will. Lod. Barabas, thou know'st I've loved thy daughter long. Bar. And so has she done you, even from a child. Lod. And now I can no longer hold my mind. 290 Bar. Nor I the affection that I bear to you. Lod. This is thy diamond, tell me shall I have it? Bar. Win it, and wear it, it is yet unsoiled. O ! but I know your lordship would disdain To marry with the daughter of a Jew ; And yet I'll give her many a golden cross ^ With Christian posies^ round about the ring. Lod. 'Tis not thy wealth, but her that I esteem. Yet crave I thy consent. Bar. And mine you have, yet let me talk to her. — 300 (Aside) This offspring of Cain, this Jebusite,' ^ A coin with a cross stamped on one side, like the Portuguese cruzado. 2 Mottoes. 3 The Jebusites were one of the seven Canaanitish nations which, accord- ing to the writers of the Old Testament, were doomed to destruction. 62 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT ll That never tasted of the Passover, Nor e'er shall see the land of Canaan, Nor our Messias that is yet to come ; This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean, Must be deluded : let him have thy hand. Rut keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes. Abig. What, shall I be betrothed to Lodowick? Bar. It's no sin to deceive a Christian ; For they themselves hold it a principle, 31c l-'aith is not to be held with heretics ; l')Ut all are heretics that are not Jews ; This follows well, and therefore, daughter, fear not. — I have entreated her, and she will grant. Lod. Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me. Abig. I cannot choose, seeing my father bids. — (Asii/t-) Nothing but death shall part my love ana me. Lo(/. Now have I that for which my soul hath longed. Bar. (ast'e/t') . So have not I, but yet I hope I shall. Abtg. {aside). O wretched Abigail, what hast thou done? Lod. \\'hy on the sudden is your colour changed? 321 Abig. I know not, but farewell, I must be gone. Bar. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more. Lod. Mute o' the sudden? here's a sudden change. Bar. O, muse not at it, 'tis the Hebrews' guise, That maidens new betrothed should weep awhile : '['rouble her not ; sweet Lodowick, depart : She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir. Lod. O, is't the custom ? then I am resolved : But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim, 330 .And nature's beauty choke widi stifling clouds, Than my fair Abigail should frown on me. — There comes the villain, now 111 be revenged. SCENE lii.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 63 Re-enter Mathias. Bar. Be quiet, Lodowick, it is enough I'hat I have made thee sure to Abigail. Lod. Well, let him go. \^Exit. Bar. Well, but for me, as you went in at doors You had been stabbed, but not a word on't now ; Here must no speeches pass, nor swords be drawn. Math. Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him. . 340 Bar. No ; so shall I, if any hurt be done, Be made an accessory of your deeds ; Revenge it on him when you meet him next. Math. For this I'll have his heart. Bar. Do so ; lo here I give thee Abigail. Math. What greater gift can poor Mathias have? Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love ? My hfe is not so dear as Abigail. Bar. My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love, He's with your mother ; therefore after him. 350 Math. What, is he gone unto my mother? Bar. Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself. Math. I cannot stay ; for if my mother come, She'll die with grief. \^Exit. Abig. I cannot take my leave of him for tears : Father, why have you thus incensed them both ? Bar. What's that to thee ? Abig. I'll make 'em friends again. Bar. You'll make 'em friends ! Are there not Jews enow in Malta, 360 But thou must doat upon a Christian? Abig. I will havt. Don Mathias, he is my love. Bar. Yes, you shall have him : go put her in. 64 THE JEW OF MALTA. Fact hi. Itha. Ay, I'll put her in. \_Piits Abigail in. Bar. Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik'st thou this? Itha. Faith, master, I think by this You purchase both their lives ; is it not so ? Bar. True ; and it shall be cunningly performed. Itha. O master, that I might have a hand in this. Bar. Ay, so thou shalt, 'tis thou must do the deed : 370 Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight, [ Gives a letter. .And tell him that it comes from Lodowick. Itha. 'Tis poisoned, is it not? Bar. No, no, and yet it might be done that way : It is a challenge feigned from Lodowick. Itha. Fear not ; I will so set his heart afire, That he shall verily think it comes from him. Bar. I cannot choose but like thy readiness : Yet be not rash, but do it cunningly. Itha. As I behave myself in this, employ me hereafter. 3S0 Bar. Away then. {Exit Ithamore. So, now will I go in to Lodowick, .■\nd, like a cunning spirit, feign some lie. Till I have set 'em both at enmity. \^Exit ACT III. Scene I. — Outside of Bellamira's House. Enter Bellamira, a Courtesan, 07i a balcony. Bell. Since this town was besieged, my gain grows cold ; And yet I know my beauty doth not fail. From Venice merchants, and from Padua Were wont to come rarc-witted gentlemen, SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 65 Scholars I mean, learned and liberal ; And now, save Pilia-Borsa, comes there none, And he is very seldom from my house ; And here he comes. Enter Pilia-Borsa. Pilia. Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee to spend. \_Sheivs a bag of silver. 10 Bell. 'Tis silver. I disdain it. Pilia. Ay, but the Jew has gold. And I will have it, or, it shall go hard. Bell. Tell me, how cam'st thou by this ? Pilia. 'Faith, walking the back-lanes, through the gardens, I chanced to. cast mine eye up to the Jew's counting-house, where I saw some bags of money, and in the night I clam- bered up with my hooks, and, as I was taking my choice, I heard a rumbling in the house ; so I took only this, and run my way : but here's the Jew's man. 20 BeU. Hide the bag. Enter Ithamore. Pilia. Look not towards him, let's away ; zoons, what a looking thou keep'st ; thou'lt betray's anon. \_Exeunt Bellamira and Pilu-Borsa. Itha. O the sweetest face that ever I beheld ! I know she is a courtesan by her attire : now would I give a hundred of the Jew's crowns that I had such a concubine. Well, I have delivered the challenge in such sort. As meet they will, and fighting die ; brave sport. \_Exit. 56 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act in. Scene II. — A Street. Enter Mathias. Math. This is the place ; now Abigail shall see Whether Mathias holds her dear or no. Etiter LoDQwiCK. What, dares the villain write in such base terms ? \_Rcadiiig a letter. Lod. I did it ; and revenge it if thou dar'st. \^They fight. Enter Barabas, above, oti a balcony. Bar. O ! bravely fought ; and yet they thrust not home. Now, Lodovico ! now, Mathias! So \_Both/a//. So now they have showed themselves to be tall^ fellows. \_Cries within.'] Part 'em, part 'em. Bar. Ay, part 'em now they are dead. Farewell, fare- well. \^Exit. Enter Ferneze, Katherine, and Attendants. Eern. W'hat sight- is this ! — my Lodowick slain !'' lo These arms of mine shall be thy sepulchre. Kath. Who is this? my son Mathias slain ! Eern. O Lodowick ! had'st thou perished by the Turk, Wretched Ferneze might have 'venged thy death. Kath. Thy son slew mine, and I'll revenge his death. ' Brave. 2 What a sight; the article was often omitted; cf. " What night is this," Julius Casar, I, 3. •'' Here, and frequently in the play, Lodowick should be written and pro- nounced as in Italian, Lodovico. The error is probably due to the copyist who first transcribed the play for the press. SCENE III.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 67 Fern, Look, Katherine, look ! — thy son gave mine these wounds. Kath. O leave to grieve me, I am grieved enough. Fern. O ! that my sighs could turn to lively breath ; And these my tears to blood, that he might live, Kath. Who made them enemies? 20 Fern. I know not, and that grieves me most of all. Kath. My son loved thine. Fern. And so did I^odowick him. Kath. Lend me that weapon that did kill my son. And it shall murder me. Fern. Nay, madam, stay ; that weapon was my son's, And on that rather should Ferneze die. Kath. Hold, let's inquire the causers of their deaths, That we may 'venge their blood upon their heads. Fern. Then take them up, and let them be interred 30 Within one sacred monument of stone ; Upon which altar I will offer up My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears. And with my prayers pierce impartial ^ heavens. Till they reveal the causers of our smarts. Which forced their hands divide united hearts : Come, Katherine, our losses equal are, Then of true grief let us take equal share. \_Exeunt with the bodies Scene IIL — A Room in Barabas' House. Enter Ithamore. Itha. Why, was there ever seen such villainy, So neatly plotted, and so well performed ? Both held in hand,- and flatly both beguiled ? 1 Unkind. 2 Kept in expectancy. ^3 THE JE\\' OF MALTA. [ACT IIL Enter Abigail. Abig. Why, how now, Ithamore, why laugh'st thou so? Jiha. O mistress, ha ! ha ! ha ! Abig. Why, what ail'st thou ? Itha. O my master ! Abig. Ha! Itha. O mistress ! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, sub- tle, bottle-nosed knave to my master, that ever gentleman had. " Abig. Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus? Jtha. O, my master has the bravest policy. Abig. Wherein? Itha. Why, know you not? Abig. Why, no. Itha. Know you not of Matthias' and Don Lodowick's disaster? Abig. No, what was it ? 19 Itha. Why, the devil invented a challenge, my master writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis to Mathias. And then they met, and, as the story says. In doleful wise they ended both their days. Abig. And was my father furtherer of their deaths ? Itha. Am I Ithamore? Abig. Yes. Itha. So sure did your father write, and I carry the challenge. Abig. Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this. 3c Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire For any of the friars of Saint Jacques,^ 1 St, James. SCENE III.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 69 And say, I pray them come and speak with me. Itha. I will, forsooth, mistress. \^Exit. Abig. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas ! Was this the pursuit of thy policy ! To make me show them favour severally. That by my favour they should both be slain? Admit thou,lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire, Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee : 40 But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, Because the prior dispossessed thee once, And could'st not 'venge it, but upon his son Nor on his son, but by Mathias' means; Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. But I perceive there is no love on earth, Pity in Jews, or piety in Turks. But here comes cursed Ithamore, with the friar. Enter Ithamore and Friar Jacomo. F.Jac. Virgo, salve. Itha. When ! ^ duck you ! 50 Abig. Welcome, grave friar ; Ithamore, begone ! \_Exit Ithamore. Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee. F.Jac. Wherein? Abig. To get me be admitted for a nun. F. Jac. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admission. And then thou didst not like that holy life. Abig. Then were my thoughts so frail and unconfirmed. And I was chained to follies of the world : But now experience, purchased with grief, 60 1 Exclamation of impatience. 70 THE JEW OF MALTA. Fact in. Has made me see the difference of things. My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long The fatal labyrinth of misbelief, Far from the sun that gives eternal life. F.Jac. Who taught thee this ? Ahig. The abbess of the house. Whose zealous admonition I embrace : O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one, Although unworthy, of that sisterhood. F.Jac. Abigail, I will, but see thou change no more, yc For that will be most heavy to thy soul. Abig. That was my father's fault. F. Jac. Thy father's ! how ? Abig. Nay, you shall pardon me. {Aside) O Barabas, Though thou deservest hardly at my hands, Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life. F. Jac. Come, shall we go ? Abig. My duty waits on you. \JExeunt. Scene IV. — A Room in Barabas' House. Enter Barabas, reading a letter. Bar. What, Abigail become a nun again ! False and unkind ; what, hast thou lost thy father? And all unknown, and unconstrained of me. Art thou again got to the nunnery? Now here she writes, and wills me to repent. Repentance ! Spurca! what pretendeth ' this ? I fear she knows — 'tis so — of my device In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths : 1 Portendeth. 20 SCENE IV.] THE JEW OF MALI A. 7I If SO, 'tis time that it be seen into : For she that varies from me in beUef lo Gives great presumption that she loves me not ; Or loving, doth dislike of something done. — But who comes here ? Enter Ithamore. O Ithamore, come near ; Come near, my love ; come near, thy master's Ufe, My trusty servant, nay, my second self: For I have now no hope but even in thee. And on that hope my happiness is built. When saw'st thou Abigail ? Itha. To-day. Bar. With whom ? Jtha. A friar. Bar. A friar ! false villain, he hath done the deed. Itha. How, sir? Bar. Why, made mine Abigail a nun. Itha. That's no lie, for she sent me for him. Bar. O unhappy day \ False, credulous, inconstant Abigail ! B-ut Jet 'me go : and, Ithamore, from hence Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace ; Ne'er shall she live to inherit aught of mine, 3° Be blest of me, nor come within my gates, But perish underneath my bitter curse. Like Cain by Adam for his brother's death. Itha. O master ! Bar. Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved. And she is hateful to my soul and me : And 'less thou yield to this that I entreat. •J 2 IHE JEW OF MALTA. [act hi I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life. Ma. Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some rock, And throw myself headlong into the sea ; ^o Why, I'll do anything for your sweet sake. Bar. O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend : I here adopt thee for mine only heir, All that I have is thine when I am dead. And whilst I live use half; spend as myself; Here take my keys, I'll give 'em thee anon : Go buy thee garments : but thou shalt not want : Only know this, that thus thou art to do : But first go fetch me in the pot of rice That for our supper stands upon the fire. 50 ///la. {aside). I hold my head my master's hungry. I go, sir. {Exit. Bar. Thus every villain ambles after wealth, Although he ne'er be richer than in hope : But, husht ! Re-enter Ithamore with the pot. Jtha. Here 'tis, master. Bar. Well said, Ithamore ; what, hast thou brought The ladle with thee too? Itha. Yes, sir, the proverb' says he that eats with the devil had need of a long spoon. I have brought you a ladle. Bar. Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret ; 60 And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love, Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail, That thou may'st freely live to be my heir. 1 This proverb is found in Chaucer's Squiere's Tale, in A Comedy of Err on, etc. SCENE IV.I THE JEW OF MALTA, 73 Itha. Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of rice porridge ? that will preserve life, make her round and plump, and batten more than you are aware. Bar. Ay, but, Ithamore, seest thou this ? It is a precious powder that I bought Of an Italian, in Ancona, once, Whose operation is to bind, infect, 70 And poison deeply, yet not appear In forty hours after it is ta'en. Jtha. How, master? Bar. Thus, Ithamore. This even they use in Malta here, — 'tis called Saint Jacques' Even, — and then I say they use To send their alms into the nunneries : Among the rest bear this, and set it there ; There's a dark entry where they take it in. Where they must neither see the messenger, 80 Nor make inquiry who hath sent it them. Itha. How so ? Bar. Belike there is some ceremony in't. There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot ! Stay, let me spice it first. Itha. Pray do, and let me help you, master. Pray let me taste first. Bar. Prythee do (Ithamore tastes) : what say'st thou now? Itha. Troth, master, I'm loth such a pot of pottage should be spoiled. 9c Bar. Peace, Ithamore, 'tis better so than spared. Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye,* My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine. ^ In abundance. 74 THE JEW OF JVIALTA. [act III Itha. Well, master, I go. Bar. Stay, first let me stir it, Ithamore. As fatal be it to her as the draught Of which great Alexander drunk and died : And with her let it work like Borgia's wine. Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisoned. In itw^ the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane : ick The juice of hebon,- and Cocytus' breath, And all the poisons of the Stygian pool Break from the fiery kingdom ; and in this Vomit your venom and invenom her That like a fiend hath left her father thus. Itha. {aside). What a blessing has he given' t ! was ever pot of rice porridge so sauced ! What shall I do with it ? Bar. O, my sweet Ithamore, go set it down. And come again so soon as thou hast done. For I have other business for thee. nc Ifha. Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of Flan- ders mares : I'll carry't to the nuns with a powder. Bar. And the horse pestilence to boot ; away ! Ifha. I am gone. Pay me my wages, for my work is done. \_Exif. Bar. I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore. \_Exit Scene V. — The Senate-house. Enter Ferneze, Martin del Bosco, Knights, and Basso Fern. Welcome, great basso ; how fares Calymath ? What wind drives you thus into Malta-road ? Bas. The wind that bloweth all the world besides, — Desire of gold. » In short. 2 jhe juice of ebony, regarded as a deadly poison. tCESK v.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 75 /^ern. Desire of gold, great sir? That's to be gotten in the Western Ind : In Malta are no golden minerals. Bas. To you of Malta thus saith Calymath : The time you took for respite is at hand, For the performance of your promise passed, ic And for the tribute-money I am sent. T^ern. Basso, in brief, 'shalt have no tribute here. Nor shall the heathens live upon our spoil : First will we raze the city walls ourselves. Lay waste the island, hew the temples down, And, shipping off our goods to Sicily, Open an entrance for the wasteful sea, Whose billows beating the resistless ' banks. Shall overflow it with their refluence. Bas. Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league 20 By flat denial of the promised tribute, Talk not of razing down your city walls. You shall not need trouble yourselves so far, For Selim Calymath shall come himself, And with brass bullets batter down your towers. And turn proud Malta to a wilderness For these intolerable wrongs of yours ; And so farewell. J^ern. Farewell : [_£xif Basso And now, ye men of Malta, look about, 3c And let's provide to welcome Calymath : i Close your portcullis, charge your basilisks,^ And as you profitably take up arms, So now courageously encounter them ; For by this answer, broken is the league, 1 Unable to resist. - Immense cannon. "6 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act hi. And naught is to be looked for now but wars, .\nd naught to us more welcome is than wars. \^Exeunt. Scene VI. — A Rootn in a Convent. Enter Friar J.^COMO and Friar Barnardine. F. Jac. O, brother, brother, all the nuns are sick, .Vnd physic will not help them : they must die. F. Barn. The abbess sent for me to be confessed : ( ). what a sad confession will there be ! F. J.ic. And so did fair Maria send for me : I'll to her lodging : hereabouts she lies. \Exit. Enter Abigail. . F. Barn. What, all dead, save only Abigail? Abig. And I shall die too, for I feel death coming. Where is the friar that conversed with me ? F. Barn. O, he is gone to see the other nuns. ic Adig. I sent for him, but seeing you are come, Be you my ghostly father : and first know, That in this house I lived religiously, Chaste, and devout, much sorrowing for my sins ; But ere I came F. Barn. What then? Abig. I did offend high Heaven so grievously, As I am almost desperate for my sins : And one offence torments me more than all. You knew Mathias and Don Lodowick? 2c F. Barn. Yes, what of them? Abig. My father did contract me to 'em both : First to Don Lodowick; him I never loved; SCENE VI.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 77 Mathias was the man that I held dear, And for his sake did I become a nun. F. Barn. So, say how was their end? Abig. Both jealous of my love, envied ^ each other, And by my father's practice,^ which is there Set down at large, the gallants were both slain. [ Gives a wiHtten paper. F. Barn. O monstrous villainy ! 3c Abig. To work my peace, this I confess to thee ; Reveal it not, for then my father dies. F. Barn. Know that confession must not he revealed, Xhe canon law forbids it, and the priest That makes it known, being degraded first, Shall be condemned, and then sent to the fire. Abig. So I have heard ; pray, therefore keep it close. Death seizeth on my heart : ah gentle friar, Convert my father that he may be saved, And witness that I die a Christian. \_Dies. 40 F. Barn. Ay, and a virgin too ; that grieves me most : But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him. And make him stand in fear of me. Re-enter Friar Jacomo. F.Jac. O brother, all the nuns are dead, let's bury them. F. Barn. First help to bury this, then go with me And help me to exclaim against the Jew. F.Jac. Why, what has he done? F. Barn. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold. F. Jac. What, has he crucified a child ? '^ 1 Hated ; the accent is on the second syllable. 2 Artifice. 3 The Jews were often accused of this crime, especially when the king was in need of money. „g THE JEW' OF MALTA. [act iv. F. Barn. No, but a worse thing : 'twas told to me in shrift, 5° Thou know'st 'tis death an if it be revealed. Come, let's away. \_Exeunt. ACT IV. Scene I. — A Street. Enter Barabas and Ithamore. Bells within. Bar. There is no music to * a Christian's knell : How sweet the bells ring now the nuns are dead, That sound at other times like tinker's pans 1 1 was afraid the poison had not wrought ; Or though it wrought, it would have done no good : Now all are dead, not one remains alive. I/Jui. That's brave, master, but think you it will not be known ? Bar. How can it, if we two be secret? Itha. For my part fear you not. Bar. I'd cut thy throat if I did. lo Jtha. And reason too. But here's a royal monastery hard by ; (lood master, let me poison all the monks. Bar. Thou shalt not need, for now the nuns are dead They'll die with grief. Itha. Do you not sorrow for your daughter's death? Bar. No, but I grieve because she li\'e(l so long. .An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian ! Cazzo, diabolo. 1 Equal to. SCENE l.J THE JEW OF MALTA. 79 Enter Friar Jacomo and Friar Barnardine. Itha. Look, look, master, here come two religious cater- pillars. 21 Bar. I smelt 'em ere they came. Itha. God-a-mercy, nose ! come, let's be gone. F. Barn. Stay, wicked Jew, repent, I say, and stay. F. Jac. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damned. Bar. I fear they know we sent the poisoned broth. Itha. And so do I, master ; therefore speak 'em fair. F. Barn. Barabas, thou hast F. Jac. Ay, that thou hast Bar. True, I have money, what though I have? zo F. Barn. Thou art a F. Jac. Ay, that thou art, a Bar. What needs all this ? I know I am a Jew. F. Barn. Thy daughter F. Jac. Ay, thy daughter Bar. O speak not of her ! then I die with grief. F. Barn. Remember that F. Jac. Ay, remember that Bar. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer. F. Barn. Thou hast committed 40 Bar. Fornication — but that was in another country ; And besides, the wench is dead. F. Barn. Ay, but, Barabas, Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick. Bar. Why, what of them ? F. Barn. I will not say that by a forged challenge they met. Bar. {aside). She has confest, and we are both undone, My bosom inmate ! but I must dissemble. — So THE JEW OF MALTA. [act iv. holy friars, the burthen of my sins Lie heavy on my soul ; then pray you tell me, - 50 Is't not too late now to turn Christian? 1 have been zealous in the Jewish faith, Hard-hearted to the poor, a covetous wretch, That would for lucre's sake have sold my soul. A hundred for a hundred I have ta'en ; And now for store of wealth may I compare With all the Jews of Malta ; but what is wealth ? I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. ^Vould penance serve to atone for this my sin, I could afford to whip myself to death 60 ///la. And so could I ; but penance will not ser\'e. Bar. To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair, And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. Cellars of wine, and soUars ^ full of wheat, Warehouses stuft with spices and with drugs, V.'hole chests of gold, in bullion, and in coin, Besides I know not how much weight in pearl, Orient and round, have I within my house ; At Alexandria, merchandise unsold : ^ But yesterday two ships went from this town, 70 Their voyage will be worth ten thousand crowns. In Florence, Venice, Antwerp, London, Seville, Frankfort, Lubeck, Moscow, and where not. Have I debts owing ; and in most of these. Great sums of money lying in the banco ; All this ni give to some religious house. So I may be baptized, and live therein. 1 Attics, or lofts (Latin solarium) ; still used in some parts ol Englann, and in legal documents. - Dyce suggests untold. SCENE X.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 8 1 F. Jac. O good Barabas, come to our house. F. Barn. O no, good Barabas, come to our house ; And, Barabas, you know 8c Bar. I know that I have highly sinned. You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth. F.Jac. O Barabas, their laws are strict. Bar. I know they are, and I will be with you. F. Barn. They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too. Bar. {to Barn.). Then 'tis not for me ; and I am resolved You shall confess me, and have all my goods. F.Jac. Good Barabas, come to me. Bar. You see I answer him, and yet he stays ; Rid him away, and go you home with me. gc F.Jac. I'll be with you to-night. Bar. Come to my house at one o'clock this night, F. Jac. You hear your answer, and you may be gone. F. Barn. Why, go get you away. F. Jac. I will not go for thee. F. Barn. Not ! then I'll make thee go. F.Jac. How, dost call me rogue? \They fight. Itha. Part 'em, master, part 'em. Bar. This is mere frailty, brethren ; be content. {Aside to Barn.) Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore : loc You know my mind, let me alone with him. F.Jac. Why does he go to thy house? let him be gone. Bar. I'll give him something and so stop his mouth. \_Exit Ithamore with Friar Barnardine I never heard of any man but he Maligned the order of the Jacobins : But do you think that I believe his words ? Why, brother, you converted Abigail ; And I am bound in charity to requite it. 82 IHE JEW UK MALTA. [act iv. And SO I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come. F.Jac. But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers? no For presently you shall be shrived. Bar. Marry, the Turk ' shall be one of my godfathers, But not a word to any of your covent.- F.Jac. I warrant thee, Barabas. \^Exit. Bar. So, now the fear is past, and I am safe. For he that shrived her is within my house ; What if I murdered him ere Jacomo comes ? Now I have such a plot for both their lives .\s never Jew nor Christian knew the like : One turned my daughter, therefore he shall die ; 120 The other knows enough to have my life, Therefore 'tis not requisite he should Uve. But are not both these wise men to suppose That I will leave my house, my goods, and all. To fast and be well whipt? I'll none of that. Now, Friar Bamardine, I come to you, I'll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words, •And after that, I and my trusty Turk — No more, but so : it must and shall be done. {Exit Scene II. — A Room in Barabas' House. Enter Bar.\bas and Ithamore. Bar. Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep? ////(/. Yes ; and I know not what the reason is, Do what I can he will not strip himself. Nor go to bed, but sleeps in his own clothes ; I fear me he mistrusts what we intend. > Itliamore. 2 Convent; this form still appears in Covent Garden. SCENE 11.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 83 Bar. No, 'tis an order which the friars use : Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he 'scape ? Itha. No, none can hear him, cry he ne'er so loud. Bar. Why, true, therefore did I place him there : The other chambers open towards the street. ic Itha. You loiter, master ; wherefore stay we thus ? O how I long to see him shake his heels. Bar. Come on, sirrah. Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose. [I'liL^MORE takes off his girdle and ties a noose in it. Friar, awake ! [ They put the noose rotmd the Friar's 7ieck. F. Barn. What, do you mean to strangle me? Itha. Yes, 'cause you use to confess. Bar. Blame not us but the proverb, Confess and be hanged ; pull hard ! F. Barn. What, will you have my life ? 20 Bar. Pull hard, I say; you would have had my goods. Itha. Ay, and our lives too, therefore pull amain. \^They strangle him. 'Tis neatly done, sir, here's no print at all. Bar. Then it is as it should be ; take him up. Itha. Nay, master, be ruled by me a little. {Sta7ids the body upright against the 7vall and puts a staff in its hand. ) So, let him lean upon his staff; excellent! he stands as if he were begging of bacon.^ Bar. Who would not think but that this friar lived? What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore ? 30 Itha. Towards one. Bar. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. \_Exeunt 1 TTie body was stood up outside of the house. 84 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act iv. Scene III. — Outside Barabas' House. Enter Friar Jacomo. F.Jac. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed,' O happy hour wherein I shall convert An infidel, and bring his gold into our treasury ! ^ But soft, is not this Bamardine ? it is ; And, understanding I should come this way, Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong, And intercept my going to the Jew. — Bamardine ! ^^'ilt thou not speak ? thou think'st I see thee not ; Away, I'd wish thee, and let me go by : lo No, wilt thou not? nay, then, I'll force my way; And see, a staff stands ready for the purpose : As thou lik'st that, stop me another time. \Takes the staff and strikes the body, which falls down. Enter Barabas and Ithamore. Bar. Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done ? F.Jac. Why, stricken him that would have struck at me. Bar. Who is it ? Bamardine ? now out, alas, he's slain ! Itha. Ay, master, he's slain ; look how his brains drop out on's^ nose. F.Jac. Good sirs, I have done't, but nobody knows it but you two — I may escape. 20 Bar. So might my man and I hang with you for company. 1 Succeed. 2 Bullen rearranges these lines thus : " O happy hour Wherein I shall convert an infidel, And bring his gold into our treasury." » Of his. ^ SCENE IV.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 85 Itha. No, let us bear him to the magistrates. F. Jac. Good Barabas, let me go. Bar. No, pardon me ; the law must have its course. 1 must be forced to give in evidence, That being importuned by this Barnardine To be a Christian, I shut him out. And there he sat : now I, to keep my word. And give rriy goods and substance to your house, Was up thus early ; with intent to go 3° Unto your friary, because you stayed. Itha. Fie upon 'em, master ; will you turn Christian when holy friars turn devils and murder one another? Bar. No, for this example I'll remain a Jew : Heaven bless me ! what, a friar a murderer? When shall you see a Jew commit the like ? Itha. Why, a Turk could ha' done no more. Bar. To-morrow is the sessions ; you shall to it. Come, Ithamore, let's help to take him hence. F.Jac. Villains, I am a sacred person; touch me not. 4c Bar. The law shall touch you, we'll but lead you, we : 'Las, I could weep at your calamity ! Take in the staff too, for that must be shown : Law wills that each particular be known. \_Exeunt Scene IV. — A Veranda of Bellamira's House. Enter Bellamira and Pilia-Borsa. Bell. Pilia-Borsa, did'st thou meet with Ithamore ? Pilia. I did. Bell. And did'st thou deliver my letter? Pilia. I did. Bell. And what think'st thou? will lie come? 86 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act iv. Pilia. I think so, but yet I cannot tell ; for at the read- ing of the letter he looked like a man of another world. Bell. Why so ? Pilia. That such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a talP man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you. Bell. And what said he ? 1 1 Pilia. Not a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who should say, " Is it even so ? " and so I left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance. Bell. And where didst meet him? Pilia. Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse,^ I take it, looking of' a friar's execution, whom I saluted with an old hempen prov- erb, Hodie tibi, eras mihi, and so I left him to the mercy of the hangman : but the exercise ^ being done, see where he comes.* 21 Enter Ithamore. Itha. I never knew a man take his death so patiently as this friar ; he was ready to leap off ere the halter was about his neck ; and when the hangman had put on his hempen tippet, he made such haste to his prayers, as if he had had another cure to serve. Well, go whither he will, I'll be none of his followers in haste : and, now I think on't, going to the execution, a fellow met me with a muschatoes^ like a raven's wing, and a dagger with a hilt like a warming-pan, and he gave me a letter from one Madam Bellamira, saluting me 30 in such sort as if he had meant to make clean my boots with 1 Brave. « The "-neck-verse " which criminals had to read to secure the benefit of the ciergy, was usually Psalm li, \. * *^"- 5 Cf. Richard III, iii, 2. * Sermon- 6 Mustachios. SCENE IV.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 87 his lips ; the effect was, that I should come to her house. I wonder what the reason is ; it may be she sees more in me than I can find in myself : for she writes further, that she loves me ever since she saw me, and who would not requite such love ? Here's her house, and here she comes, and now would I were gone ; I am not worthy to look upon her. Pilia. This is the gentleman you writ to. Itha. {aside). Gentleman ! he flouts me ; what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence ?^ I'll be gone. 40 Bell. Is't not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia? Itha. {aside) . Again, " sweet youth ! " — Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter ? Filia. I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and the rest of the family, stand or fall at youi* service. Bell. Though woman's modesty should hale me back, 1 can withhold no longer ; welcome, sweet love. Itha. {aside). Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way. 5° Bell. Whither so soon ? Itha. {aside). I'll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome. — Pray pardon me, I must go and see a ship discharged. Bell. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus ? Filia. An ye did but know how she loves you, sir ! Itha. Nay, I care not how much she loves me — Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master's wealthier thy sake ! Pilia. And you can have it, sir, an if you please. 59 Itha. If 'twere above ground, I could and would have it ; but he hides and buries it up, as partridges do their eggs, under the earth. 1- A contemptuous term, common at that time. 88 THE JEW OF MALTA. [act iv /^7/(7. And is't not possible to find it out? ////ut Malta hates me, and, in hating me, My life's in danger, and what boots it thee. Poor Barabas, to be the governor, Whenas thy life shall be at their command ? No, Barabas, this must be looked into ; And since by wrong thou got'st authority. Maintain it bravely by firm policy, At least unprofitably lose it not : For he that liveth in authority, And neither gets him friends, nor fills his bags, 4c Lives like the ass, that ^sop speaketh of, That labours with a load of bread and wine, And leaves it off to snap on thistle-tops : But Barabas will be more circumspect. Begin betimes ; occasion's bald behind ; Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late Thou seek'st for much, but canst not compass it. — Within here ! Enter Ferneze with a Guard. Fern. My lord ? Bar. Ay, " lord ; " thus slaves will learn. 5c Now, governor; — stand by there, wait within. \_Exeunt Guard This is the reason that I sent for thee ; Thou seest thy life and Malta's happiness Are at my arbitrement ; and Barabas At his discretion may dispose of both ; Now tell me, governor, and plainly too. What think'st thou shall become of it and thee? Fern. This, Barabas ; since things are in thy power, SCKNE iii.l THE JKW OF MALTA. IO3 I see no reason but of Malta's wreck, Nor hope of thee but extreme cruelty ; 60 Nor fear I death, nor will I flatter thee. Bar. Governor, good words ; be not so furious. 'Tis not thy life which can avail me aught ; Yet you do live, and live for me you shall : And, as for Malta's ruin, think you not 'Twere slender policy for Barabas To dispossess himself of such a place ? For sith, as once you said, 'tis in this isle, In Malta here, that I have got my goods, And in this city still have had success, 70 And now at length am grown your governor, Yourselves shall see it shall not be forgot : For, as a friend not known but in distress, I'll rear up Malta, now remediless. Fern. Will Barabas recover Malta's loss? Will Barabas be good to Christians ? Bar. What wilt thou give me, governor, to procure A dissolution of the slavish bands Wherein the Turk hath yoked your land and you ? What will you give me if I render you Sd The life of Calymath, surprise his men And in an outhouse of the city shut His soldiers, till I have consumed 'em all with fire ? What will you give him that procureth this? Fern. Do but bring this to pass which thou pretendest, Deal truly with us as thou intimatest, And I will send amongst the citizens, And by my letters privately procure Great sums of money for thy recompense : Nay more, do this, and live thou governor still. 9c I04 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT V Bar. Nay, do thou this, Ferneze, and be free ; Governor, I enlarge thee ; live with me, Go walk about the city, see thy friends : Tush, send not letters to 'em, go thyself, And let me see what money thou canst make ; Here is my hand that I'll set Malta free : And thus we cast it : to a solemn feast I will invite young Selim Calymath, Where be thou present only to perform One stratagem that I'll impart to thee, icxj Wherein no danger shall betide thy life, And I will warrant Malta free for ever. Fern. Here is my hand ; believe me, Barabas, I will be there, and do as thou desirest. When is the time ? Bar. Governor, presently : For Calymath, when he hath viewed the town. Will take his leave and sail towards Ottoman. Fern. Then will I, Barbaras, about this coin, And bring it -with me to thee in the evening. nc Bar. Do so, but fail not ; now farewell, Ferneze ! — \Exit Ferneze. And thus far roundly goes the business : Thus loving neither, will I live with both. Making a profit of my policy ; And he from whom my most advantage comes Shall be my friend. This is the life we Jews are used to lead ; And reason too, for Christians do the like. Well, now about effecting this device ; First to surprise great SeUm's soldiers, lao And then to make provision for the feast. SCBIffK IV.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 1 05 That at one instant all things may be done : My poHcy detests prevention : To what event my secret purpose drives, I know ; and they shall witness with their lives. \^Exit. Scene IV. — Outside the City Walls. Enter Calymath and Bassoes. Caly. Thus have we viewed the city, seen the sack, And caused the ruins to be new-repaired, Which with our bombards' * shot and basihsks We rent in sunder at our entry : And now I see the situation. And how secure this conquered island stands Environed with the Mediterranean Sea, Strong-countermined with other petty isles ; And, toward Calabria, backed by Sicily, (Where Syracusian Dionysius reigned,) 10 Two lofty turrets that command the town ; I wonder how it could be conquered thus. Enter a Messenger. Mess. From Barabas, Malta's governor, I bring A message unto mighty Calymath ; Hearing his sovereign was bound for sea, lb sail to Turkey, to great Ottoman, He humbly would entreat your majesty To come and see his homely citadel, And banquet with him ere thou leav'st the isle. Caly. To banquet with him in his citadel? ao I fear me, messenger, to feast my train 1 Large cannon. lo6 THE JEW OK MALTA. [ACT V. Within a town of war so lately pillaged, Will be too costly and too troublesome : Yet would I gladly visit Barabas, For well has Barabas deserved of us. Mess. Selim, for that, thus saith the governor, That he hath in his store a pearl so big. So precious, and Avithal so orient. As, be it valued but indifferently. The price thereof will serve to entertain 30 Selim and all his soldiers for a month ; Therefore he humbly would entreat your highness Not to depart till he has feasted you. Cah. I cannot feast my men in Malta-walls, Except he place his tables in the streets. Mess. Know, Selim, that there is a monastery Which standeth as an outhouse to the town ; There will he banquet them ; but thee at home, With all thy bassoes and brave followers. Calx. ^Vell, tell the governor we grant his suit, 4c We'll in this summer evening feast with him. Mess. I shall, my lord. \_Exit. Cah. And now, bold bassoes, let us to our tents, .Vnd meditate how we may grace us best To solemnize our governor's great feast. \_Exeunf. Scene V. — A Street. Enter Ferneze, Knights, and Martin del Bosco. Fern. In this, my countrymen, be ruled by me, Have special care that no man sally forth Till you shall hear a culverin discharged SCENE VLJ THE JEW OF MALTA. 107 By him that bears the linstock/ kindled thus ; Then issue out and come to rescue me, For happily I shall be in distress. Or you released of this servitude. 1st Knight. Rather than thus to live as Turkish thralls,* What will we not adventure ? Fern. On then, begone. 10 Knights. Farewell, grave governor ! \_Exeunt on one side Knights aiuf Martin del Bosco ; on the other Ferneze. Scene VI. — A Hall in the Governor' s Residence. Enter, above, Barabas, with a hammer, vcrv biisv ; and Carpenters. Bar. How stand the cords? How hang these hinges? fast? Are all the cranes and pulleys sure? 1st Carp. All fast. Bar, Leave nothing loose, all levelled to \\\\ mind. Why now I see that you have art indeed. There, carpenters, divide that gold amongst \ou : \^Gives money. Go swill in bowls of sack ^ and muscadine ■* I Down to the cellar, taste of all my wines. 1st Carp. We shall, my lord, and thank you. \^Exeunt Carpenters. Bar. And, if you like them, drink your fill and die : k For so I live, perish may all the world ! 1 The stick which held the gunner's match. 2 Slaves. 3 A dry Spanish wine (Spanish seco, dry). < A rich, fragrant wine ; written also ?iiuscatei and muscadel. lOS THE JEW OF MALTA. [act v. Now Selim Calymath return me word That thou wilt come, and I am satisfied. Enter Messenger. Now, sirrah, what, will he come? Mess. He will \ and has commanded all his men To come ashore, and march through Malta streets, That thou mayest feast them in thy citadel. Bar. Then now are all things as my wish would have 'em, There wanteth nothing but the governor's pelf. And see, he brings it. 20 Enter Ferneze. Now, governor, the sum. Fern. With free consent, a hundred thousand pounds. Bar. Pounds say'st thou, governor? well, since it is no more, I'll satisfy myself with that ; nay, keep it still, For if I keep not promise, trust not me. And, governor, now partake my policy : First, for his army ; they are sent before, Entered the monastery, and underneath In several places are field-pieces pitched. Bombards, whole barrels full of gunpowder 30 That on the sudden shall dissever it. And batter all the stones about their ears, Whence none can possibly escape alive. Now as for Calymath and his consorts, Here have I made a dainty gallery. The floor whereof, this cable being cut, Doth fall asunder ; so that it doth sink Into a deep pit past recovery. SCENE VI.] THE JEW OF MALIA. 109 Here, hold that knife {throws down a knife), and when thou seest he comes, And with his bassoes shall be blithely set, 40 A warning-piece shall be shot off from the tower, To give thee knowledge when to cut the cord And fire the house : say, will not this be brave ? Fe7-n. O excellent ! here, hold thee, Barabas, I trust thy word, take what I promised thee. Bar. No, governor, I'll satisfy thee first, Thou shalt not live in doubt of anything. Stand close, tor here they come (Ferneze retires). Why, is not this A kingly kind of trade to purchase towns By treachery and sell 'em by deceit? 50 Now tell me, woridimgs, underneath the sun If greater falsehood ever has been done ? Enter Calymath and Bassoes. Cafy. Come, my companion bassoes ; see, I pray, How busy Barabas is there above To entertain us in his gallery ; Let us salute him. Save thee, Barabas ! Bar. Welcome, great Calymath ! Fern, {aside). How the slave jeers at him. Bar. Will't please thee, mighty Selim Calymath, To ascend our homely stairs? <^° Cafy. Ah, Barabas; — Come, bassoes, ascend. Fern, {coming forward) . Stay, Calymath ! For I will show thee greater courtesy Than Barabas would have aftbrded thee. 1 1 u THE JEW OF MALTA. [act v. Knight {within). Sound a charge there ! S A charge sounded within. Ferneze cuts the cord : the floor of the gallery gives way, and Barabas falls into a caldron. Enter Martin del Bosco and Knights. Caly. How now ! what means this ? Bar. Help, help me ! Christians, help ! Fern. See, Calymath, this was devised for thee ! Caly. Treason ! treason ! bassoes, fly ! 70 Fern. No, Selim, do not fly ; See his end first, and fly then if thou canst. Bar. O help me, Selim ! help me, Christians ! Governor, why stand you all so pitiless? Fern. Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee. Accursed Barabas, base Jew, relent ? No, thus I'll see thy treachery repaid, F)Ut wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise. Bar. You will not help me, then ? Fern. No, villain, no. J>o Bar. And, villains, know you cannot help me now. — Then, Barabas, breathe forth thy latest hate, And in the fury of thy torments strive To end thy life with resolution. Know, governor, 'twas I that slew thy son ; I framed the challenge that did make them meet : know, Calymath, I aimed thy overthrow. And had I but escaped this stratagem, I would have brought confusion on you all. Damned Christian dogs ! and Turkish infidels ! go But now begins the extremity of heat SCENE VI.] THE JEW OF MALTA. i ii To pinch me with intolerable pangs : Die, life ! fly, soul ! tongue, curse thy fill, and die ! \_Dies. Caly. Tell me, you Christians, what doth this portend ? Fern. This train ^ he laid to have entrapped thy life ; Now, Selim, note the unhallowed deeds of Jews : Thus he determined to have handled thee, But I have rather chose to save thy life. Caly. Was this the banquet he prepared for us ? Let's hence, lest further mischief be pretended.- loo Fern. Nay, Selim, stay ; for since we have thee here, We will not let thee part so suddenly : Besides, if we should let thee go, all's one. For with thy galleys could'st thou not get hence. Without fresh men to rig and furnish them. Caly. Tush, governor, take thou no care for that, My men are all aboard, And do attend my coming there by this. Fern. Why, heard'st thou not the trumpet sound a charge ? Caly. Yes, what of that ? no Fern. Why then the house was fired. Blown up, and all thy soldiers massacred. Caly. O monstrous treason ! Fern. A Jew's courtesy : For he that did by treason work our fall. By treason hath delivered thee to us : Know, therefore, till thy father hath made good The ruins done to Malta and to us. Thou canst not part ; for Malta shall be freed, Or Selim ne'er return to Ottoman. 12c Caly. Nay, rather. Christians, let me go to Turkey, In person there to meditate^ your peace ; 1 Stratagem. - Intended. ^ Query, mediate J J 2 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT V. To keep me here will not advantage you. Fern. Content thee, Calyniath, here thou must stay. And live in Malta prisoner ; for come all the world To rescue thee, so will we guard us now, As sooner shall they drink the ocean dry Than conquer Malta, or endanger us. So march away and let due praise be given Neither to Fate nor Fortune, but to Heaven. '[Exeunt. 130 II. THE ALCHEMIST. By Ben Jonson. Produced in 1610; dedicated to Lady Mary Wroth, niece of Sir Philip Sidney. THE ALCHEMIST/ TO THE READER. If thou beest more, thou art an understander, and then I trust thee. II thou art one that takest up, and but a pretender, beware of what hands thou receives! thy commodity; for thou wert never more fair in the way to be cozened than in this age, in poetry, especially in plays : wherein now the concupiscence of dances and of antics so reigneth, as to run away from Nature, and be afraid of her, is the only point of Art that tickles the specta- tors. But how out of purpose and place do I name Art ? When the professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it, and presumers on their own naturals, as they are deriders of all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms, when they understand not the things, think to get off wittily with their ignorance. Nay, they are esteemed the more learned and sufficient for this, by the many, through their excellent vice of judgment. For they commend writers as they do fencers and wrestlers ; who, if they come in robustuously, and put for it with a great deal of violence, are received for the braver fellows : when many times their own rudeness is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil. I deny not but that these men, who always seek to do more than enough, may sometime happen on something that is good and great; but very seldom: and when it comes it doth not recompense tne rest of their ill. It sticks out, perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordid and vile about it ; as lights are more discerned in a thick dark- ness than a faint shadow. I speak not this out of a hope to do good to any man against his will ; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs and mine, the worse would find more suffrages : because the most favour common errors. But I give thee this warning, that there is a great differ- ence between those that, to gain the opinion of copy ,2 utter all they can, however unfitly; and those that use election and a mean. For it is only the disease of the unskilful to think rude things greater than polished, or scattered more numerous than composed. 1 In a few places in the text of this play I have adopted slight verbal alter ations, suggested by Professor Henry Morley. * Reputation of being fertile writers. "5 Il6 THE ALCHEMIST. [PROLOGUE. DRAMATIS PERSONM. Subtle, the Alchemist. Face, the Housekeeper. DoL Common, their Colleague. Dapper, a Clerk. D RUGGER, a Tobacco Man. LOVEWIT, Master of the House. Sir Epicure Mammon, a Knight. Pertinax Surly, a Gamester. Tribulation Wholesome, a Pas- tor of Amsterdam. Ananias, a Deacon there. Kastkil, the angry Boy. Dame Pliant, his Sister, a Widow. Neighbours, Officers, Mutes. Scene: London. ARGUMENT. T HE sickness' hot, a master quit, for fear, H is house in town, and left one servant there. E ase him corrupted, and gave means to know A cheater and his punk ^ ; who now brought low, L eaving their narrow practice, were become C ozeners at large ; and only wanting some H ouse to set up, with him they here contract, E ach for a share, and all begin to act. M uch company they draw, and much abuse, I n casting figures,"'' telling fortunes, news, S elling of flies,'* false putting of the stone, T ill it, and thev, and all in fume are gone. PROLOGUE. Fortune, that favours fools, these two short hours We wish away, both for your sakes and ours. Judging Spectators ; and desire, in place, 1 Plague. 8 Astrological divination. 2 Coarse woman. 4 Familiar spirits. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. II 7 To the author justice, to ourselves but grace. Our scene is London, 'cause we would make known No country's mirth is better than our own : No clime breeds better matter, for your bore, Shark, squire, impostor, many persons more, Whose manners, now called humours, feed the stage ; And which have still been subject for the rage 10 Or spleen of comic writers. Though this pen Did never aim to grieve, but better, men ; Howe'er the age he lives in doth endure The vices that she breeds, above their cure. But when the wholesome remedies are sweet. And in their working gain and profit meet. He hopes to find no spirit so much diseased But will with such fair c6rrectives be pleased : For here he doth not fear who can apply. If there be any that will sit so nigh 20 Unto the stream, to look what it doth run, They shall find things they'd think or wish were done ; They are so natural follies, but so shown As even the doers may see, and yet not own. ACT I. Scene I. — A Room in Lovewit's House. Enter Face, in a captain's uniform, with his sword drawn, and Subtle with a vial, quarrelling, and followed by DoL Common. Face. Believe't, I will. Sub. Thy worst. I spit at thee. Il8 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT i. Dol. Have you your wits ? Why, gentlemen, for love Face. Sirrah, I'll strip you Dol. Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen ? Sub. Oh, let the wild sheep loose. I'll gum your silks With good strong water, an you come. Dol. 'Will you have The neighbours hear you ? will you betray all ? Hark ! I hear somebody. lo Face. Sirrah Sub. I shall mar All that the tailor has made, if you approach. Face. You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave, Dare you do this? Sub. Yes, faith ; yes, faith. Face. Why, who Am I, my mongrel? Who am I? Sub. I'll tell you. Since you know not yourself. 20 Face. Speak lower, rogue. Sub. Yes, you were once (time's not long past) the good, Honest, plain, livery three pound thrum that kept Your master's worship's house here in the Friars, For the vacations Face. Will you be so loud ? Sub. Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain. Face. By your means, doctor dog ! Sub. Within man's memory, All this I speak of. 30 Face. Why, I pray you, have I Been countenanced by you, or you by me? Do hut collect, sir, where I met you first. Sub. I do not hear well. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. II9 Face. Not of this, I think it. But I shall put you in mind, sir; — at Pie-corner, Taking your meal of steam in from cooks' stalls, Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk Piteously costive, with your pinch'd horn-nose, And your complexion of the Roman wash, 40 Stuck full of black and melancholic worms. Like powder corns shot at the artillery yard. Sub. I wish you could advance your voice a little.' Face. When you went pinn'd up in the several rags You had raked and pick'd from dunghills, before day ; Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes - : A felt of rug,^ and a thin threaden cloak, That scarce would cover your no buttocks Sub. So, sir ! Face. When all your alchemy and your algebra, 50 Your minerals, vegetals, and animals, Your conjuring, cozening,- and your dozen of trades, Could not relieve your corps * with so much linen Would make you tinder, but to see a fire, I gave you countenance, credit for your coals, Your stills, your glasses, your materials ; Built you a furnace, drew you customers. Advanced all your black arts ; lent you, beside, A house to practise in Sub. Your master's house ! 6c Face. Where you have studied the more thriving skill Of cozening since. Sub. Yes, in your master's house. You and the rats here kept possession. 1 A play on the word voice, which is used here for reputation. 2 Chilblains. 3 Hat of coarse woollen cloth. ■* Body. I20 THE ALCHEMIST. Tact I. Make it not strange. I know you were one could keep The buttery-hatch still lock'd, and save the chippings, Sell the dole beer^ to aquavitae men, The which, together with your Christmas vails ^ At post-and-pair,^ your letting out of counters,* Made you a pretty stock, some twenty marks,^ 7c And gave you credit to converse with cobwebs. Here, since your mistress' death hath broke up house. Face. You might talk softlier, rascal. Sub. No, you scarab, I'll thunder you in pieces': I will teach you How to beware to tempt a Fury again. That carries tempest in his hand and voice. Face. The place has made you valiant. Sub. No, your clothes. — Thou vermin, have I ta'en thee out of dung, 8c So poor, so wretched, when no living thing Would keep thee company, but a spider, or worse? Rais'd thee from brooms, and dust, and watering-pots, Sublimed thee, and exalted thee, and fix'd thee In the third region, call'd our state of grace ? Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains Would twice have won me the Philosopher's work ! Put thee in words and fashion, made thee fit For more than ordinary fellowships ? Giv'n thee thy oaths, thy quarrelling dimensions, 9a Thy rules to cheat at horse-race, cockpit, cards, dice, Or whatever gallant tincture else ? 1 Beer furnished to the poor, from a rich man's buttery. 8 Perquisites. 8 a game at cards. ^ The servant received a small fee for furnishing counters. * A mark was worth 15^. ^d. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. I2i Made thee a second in mine own great art? And have I this for thanks ! Do you rebel. Do you fly out in the projection?^ Would you be gone now? Dot. Gentlemen, what mean you ? Will you mar all ? Sub. Slave, thou hadst no name Dol. Will you undo yourselves with civil war? loc Sub. Never been known, past equi clibanum, The heat of horse-dung, under ground, in cellars, Or an ale-house darker than deaf John's ; been lost To all mankind but laundresses and tapsters. Had not I been. Dol. Do you know who hears you, sovereign ? Face. Sirrah Dol. Nay, general, I thought you were civil. Face. I shall turn desperate if you grow thus loud. Sub. And hang thyself, I care not. no Face. Hang thee, collier, And all thy pots and pans, in picture, I will, Since thou hast moved me Dol. Oh, this will o'erthrow all. Face. Write thee up bawd in Paul's, have all thy tricks, Of cozening with a hollow coal, dust, scrapings. Searching for things lost, with a sieve and shears. Erecting figures in your rows of houses,^ And taking in of shadows with a glass,'' Told in red letters ; and a face cut for thee 12c 1 That is, fail at the last moment, when success is at hand. 8 Each house, in astrology, corresponded to one of the twelve signs of the zodiac. S Method of divination. 22 THE ALCHEMIST. [act 1. Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's.' Dol. Are you sound? Have you your senses, masters? Face. I will have A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures, Shall prove a true philosopher's stone to printers. Sub. Away, you trencher-rascal ! Face. Out, you dog-leach ! The vomit of all prisons Dol. Will you be 13c Your own destructions, gentlemen? Face. Still spewed out F^'or lying too heavy on the basket,- Suh. Cheater ! Face. Bawd ! Sub. Cowherd ! Face. Conjurer ! Sub. Cut-purse ! Face. Witch ! Dol. O me ! 14c We are ruin'd, lost ! Have you no more regard To your reputations? Where's your judgment? 'Slight, Have yet some care of me, of your republic — — Face. Away this brach^ ! I'll bring thee, rogue, within i'he statute of sorcery, tricesimo tertio < )f Harry the Eighth : ay, and perhaps thy neck Within a noose, for laundring gold and barbing it/ Dol. {snatches Face's sword). You'll bring your head within a cockscomb, will you ? ' A noted highwayman, executed at Bedford. - For eating more than your share of the broken victuals sent in a basket to prisonerb. a Hunting-dog. 4 Rolling and clipping gold. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 23 And you, sir, with your menstrue.' {Dashes Subti e's vial out of his hand.) Gather it up. — 'Sdeath, you abominable pair of stinkards,- 150 Leave off your barking, and grow one again, Or, by the light that shines, I'll cut your throats. I'll not be made a prey unto the marshal For ne'er a snarling dog-bolt of you both. Have you together cozen'd all this while, And all the world, and shall it now be said You've made most courteous shift to cozen yourselves? You will accuse him ! you will bring him in [ To Face. Within the statute? Who shall take your word ? A rascal, upstart, apocryphal captain, 160 Whom not a Puritan in Blackfriars '' will trust So much as for a feather : and you, too, \_To Subtle. Will give the cause, forsooth ! you will insult, And claim a primacy in the divisions ! You must be chief ! as if you only had The powder to project ■* with, and the work Were not begun out of equaUty? The venture tripartite ? all things in common ? Without priority? 'Sdeath ! you perpetual curs. Fall to your couples again, and cozen kindly, 170 And heartily, and lovingly, as you should, And lose not the beginning of a term. Or, by this hand, I shall grow factious too, 1 The fluid in which alchemists dissolved solid substances, 2 Mean fellows. 3 The Puritans, — the term was first current about 1564, — who are so cleverly ridiculed in this play, dwelt in the Blackfriars district in London ; they dealt largely in feathers. 4 The last, twelfth, process in alchemy, when the base metal was to be turned into gold. i24 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT r. And take my part, and quit you. Face. 'Tis his fault ; He ever murmurs, and objects his pains. And says, the weight of all lies upon him. Sub. Why so it does. Dol. How does it ? Do not we Sustain our parts ? i8c Sub. Yes, but they are not equal. Dol. Why, if your part exceed to-day, I hope Ours may to-morrow match it. Sub. Ay, they may. Dol. May, murmuring mastiff ! Ay, and do. Death on me ! Help me to throttle him. \Seizes Sub. by the throat. Sub. Dorothy ! Mistress Dorothy ! 'Ods precious, I'll do anything. What do you mean? Dol. Because o' your fermentation and cibation ^ ? Sub. Not I, by heaven 190 Dol. Your Sol and Luna'-' Help me. \^To Face. Sub. Would I were hang'd then ! I'll conform myself. Dol. Will you, sir ? Do so then, and quickly : swear. Sub. What should I swear ? Dol. To leave your faction, sir. And labour kindly in the common work. Sub. Let me not breathe if I meant aught beside. 1 The sixth and seventh processes; cibation was the feeding of the mattei in preparation with fresh substances ; also, supplying what had been wasted by evaporation. 2 The metals used by alchemists are thus enumerated by Chaucer, in The Yeoman's Tale : "The bodies seven, lo! here hem anone, 5(7/ gold is, and Luna silver we threpe, Mars vron, Mercury quicksilver we clepe, Satnruus leade, and Jupiter is tinne. And yenus copir." SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 25 I only used those speeches as a spur To him. Dol. I hope we need no spurs, sir. Do we? aoo Face. 'SUd, prove to-day who shall shark best. Siib. Agreed. Dol. Yes, and work close and friendly. Sub. 'Slight, the knot Shall grow the stronger for this breach, with me. [ They shake hands. Dol. Why, so, my good baboons ! Shall we go make A sort of sober, scurvy, precise neighbours, That scarce have smiled twice since the king came in, A feast of laughter at our follies ? Rascals Would run themselves from breath to see me ride, 210 Or you t' have but a hole to thrust your heads in, For which you should pay ear-rent?* No, agree. And may don Provost ride a feasting long In his old velvet jerkin and stain'd scarfs, My noble sovereign and worthy general, Ere we contribute a new crewel garter To his most worsted worship.^ Sub. Royal Dol ! Spoken like Claridiana,' and thyself. Face. For which at supper thou shalt sit in triumph, 220 And not be styled Dol Common, but Dol Proper, Dol Singular : the longest cut at night Shall draw thee for his Doll Particular. {^Bell rings without. Sub. Who's that? One rings. To the window, Dol. (^Exit Dol.) Pray heaven 1 Refers to the pillory. * This punning on crewel and worsted was probably venerable even in Jensen's time. 8 Heroine in The Mirror of Knighthood. 126 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT I The master do not trouble us this quarter. Face. Oh, fear not him. While there dies one a week O' the plague, he's safe from thinking toward London : Beside, he's busy at his hop-yards now ; I had a letter from him. If he do, He'll send such word for airing of the house 23c As you shall have sufficient time to quit it : Though we break up a fortnight 'tis no matter. Re-enter DOL. Sub. Who is it, Dol? Dol. A fine young quodling.^ Face. Oh, My lawyer's clerk I lighted on last night In Holborn, at the Dagger.^ He would have (I told you of him) a familiar,^ To rifle with at horses, and win cups. Dol. Oh, let him in. 24c Sub. Stay. Who shall do't? Face. Get you Your robes on : I will meet him as going out. Dol. And what shall I do ? Face. Not be seen ; away ! \Exit Dol. Seem you very reserv'd. Sub. Enough. \_Exit. Face, {aloud and retiring). God be wi' you, sir. I pray you, let him know that I was here : His name is Dapper. I would gladly have staid, but 250 Dap. {withiti). Captain, I am here. Face. Who's that? — He's come, I think, doctor. 1 Slang ; " young quill-driver." 2 a low gambling-hell. ^ A spirit who waited upon magicians. SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 127 Enter Dapper. Good faith, sir, I was going away. Dap. In truth, I am very sorry, captain. Face. But I thought Sure I should meet you. Dap. Ay, I am very glad. I had a scurvy writ or two to make, And I had lent my watch ' last night to one 260 That dines to-day at the sheriffs, and so was robb'd Of my pastime. Re-enter Subtle, in his velvet cap and gown. Is this the cunning-man? Face. This is his worship. Dap. Is he a doctor? Face. Yes. Dop. And you have broke with him, captain? Face. Ay. Dap. And how? Face. Faith, he does make the matter, sir, so dainty 270 I know not what to say. Dap. Not so, good captain. Face. Would I were fairly rid of it, believe me. Dap. Nay, now you grieve me, sir. Why should you wish so? I dare assure you, I'll not be ungrateful. Face. I cannot think you will, sir. But the law Is such a thing — and then he says, Read's matter* Falling so lately — 1 Watches were dear and scarce : Dapper pretends to a luxury above his condition. 2 Simon Read, convicted of practising the black art, had been recently pardoned by James I. 128 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT I. Dap. Read ! he was an ass. And dealt, sir, with a fool. 280 Face. It was a clerk, sir. Dap. A clerk ! Face. Nay, hear me, sir, you know the law Better, I think Dap. I should, sir, and the danger : You know, I showed the statute to you. Face. You did so. Dap. And will I tell then ! By this hand of flesh, Would it might never write good court-hand more. If I discover. What do you think of me, 290 That I am a chiaus ^ ? Face. What's that? Dap. The Turk was here. As one would say, do you think I am a Turk ? Face. I'll tell the doctor so. Dap. Do, good sweet captain. Face. Come, noble doctor, pray thee, let's prevail ; This is the gentleman, and he's no chiaus. Sub. Captain, I have return'd you all my answer. I would do much, sir, for your love ; but this 30c I neither may nor can. Face. Tut, do not say so. You deal now with a noble fellow, doctor. One that will thank you richly, and he is no chiaus. Let that, sir, move you. Sub. Pray you, forbear Face. He has 1 A cheat. A Turkish chiaus, or interpreter, defrauded, in 1609, some Turkish merchants in England out of ^4000: the fraud was famous at the time. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 29 Four angels here.* Sub. You do me wrong, good sir. Face. Doctor, wherein? to tempt you with these spirits? Sub. To tempt my art and love, sir, to my peril. 311 'Fore heaven, I scarce can think you are my friend. That so would draw me to apparent danger. Face. I draw you ! A horse draw you, and a halter, You, and your flies together Dap. Nay, good captain. Face. That know no difference of men. Sub. Good words, sir. Face. Good deeds, sir. Dr. Dogs-meat. 'Slight, I bring you No cheating Clini o' the Cloughs,- or Claribels, 320 That look as big as five-and-fifty, and flush"''; And spit out secrets like hot custard F)ap. Captain ! Face. Nor any melancholic under-scribe, Shall tell the vicar, but a special gentle. That is the heir to forty marks a year. Consorts with the small poets of the time. Is the sole hope of his old grandmother ; That knows the law, and writes you six fair hands. Is a fine clerk, and has his cyphering perfect, 33c Will take his oath o' the Greek Testament, If need be, in his pocket ; and can court His mistress out of Ovid. Dap. Nay, dear captain Face. Did you not tell me so? Dap. Yes ; but I'd have you 1 English gold coin, worth ten shillings. 2 A North-country archer, often mentioned in the Robin Hood ballads. 8 The highest counts at primero, a game of cards. , ,,. THE ALCHEMIST. (act i Use Master Doctor with some more respect. Face. H-ing him, proud stag, with his broad velvet head ! But for your sake I'd choke ere I would change An article of breath with such a puckfist ' : 34° Come, let's be gone. \^Goi7ig. Sub. Pray you, let me speak with you. Dap. His worship calls you, captain. Face. I am sorry I e'er embark'd myself in such a business. Dap. Nay, good sir ; he did call you. Face. Will he take then? ^7//^. First, hear me Face. Not a syllable, 'less you take. Sub. Pray you, sir 35° Face. Upon no terms, but an assumpsiti^ Sub. Your humour must be law. \He takes the four angels. Face. Why, now, sir, talk. Now I dare hear you with mine honour. Speak. So may this gentleman too. Sub. Why, sir {^Offering to whisper Face. Face. No whispering. Sub. 'Fore heaven, you do not apprehend the loss You do yourself in this. Face. Wherein ? for what ? 360 Sub. Marry, to be so importunate for one That when he has it, will undo you all ; He'll win up all the money in the town. 1 Puff-ball, term of reproach. J A voluntarv promise, by word of mouth, to perform or pay anything to another SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 131 Face. How ! Sub. Yes, and blow up gamester after gamester, As they do crackers in a puppet play. If I do give him a familiar, (rive you him all you play for ; never set him : * For he will have it. Face. You are mistaken, doctor, 370 Why, he does ask one but for cups and horses A rifling fly ; none of your great familiars. Dap. Yes, captain, I would have it for all games. Sub. I told you so. Face, {^taking Dap. aside). 'Slight, that is a new business ! I understood you, a tame bird, to fly Twice in a term, or so, on Friday nights, When you had left the ofiice, for a nag Of forty or fifty shillings. Dap. Ay, 'tis true, sir ; ' 380 But 1 do think now I shall leave the law. And therefore Face. Why, this changes quite the case. Do you think that I dare move him ? Dap. If you please, sir ; All's one to him, I see. Face. What ! for that money? I cannot with ray conscience ; nor should you Make the request, methinks. Dap. No, sir ; I mean 390 To add consideration. Face. Why, then, sir, I'll try. (^Goes to Subtle.) Say that it were for all games, doctor? 1 Gamble with, lay a stake. ^^2 THE ALCHEMIST. [act I Sub. I say then, not a mouth shall eat for him At any ordinary, but on the score, That is a gaming mouth, conceive me. Face. Indeed ! Sub. He'll draw you all the treasure of the realm, If it be set him. Face. Speak you this from art ? 4«' Sub. Ay, sir, and reason too, the ground of art. He is of the only best complexion The Queen of Fairy loves. Face. What! Is he? Sub. Peace. He'll overhear you. Sir, should she but see him Face. What? Sub. Do not you tell him. Face. Will he win at cards too ? Sub. The spirits of dead Holland, living Isaac,' 41° You'd swear were in him ; such a vigorous luck As cannot be resisted. 'Slight, he'll put Six of your gallants to a cloke, indeed.^ Face. A strange success, that some man shall be born to. Sub. He hears you, man Dap. Sir, I'll not be ungrateful. Face. Faith, I have confidence in his good nature : You hear, he says he will not be ungrateful. Sub. Why, as you please ; my venture follows yours. Face. Troth, do it, doctor ; think him trusty, and make him. 420 He may make us both happy in a hour ; Win some five thousand pound, and send us two on't. Dap. Believe it, and I will, sir. 1 Two adepts in alchemy at that period. " Strip them. SCENE r.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 33 Face. And you shall, sir. \Takes him aside. You have heard all ? Dap. No, what was't? Nothing, I, sir. Face. Nothing ! Dap. A little, sir. Face. Well, a rare star Reigned at your birth. 430 Dap. At mine, sir ! No. Face. The doctor Swears that you are Sub. Nay, captain, you'll tell all now. Face. Allied to the Queen of Fairy. Dap. Who ? that I am ? Believe it no such matter Face. Yes, and that You were were born with a caul on your head.^ Dap. Who says so? 440 Face. Come, You know it well enough, though you dissemble it. Dap. r fac, I do not : you are mistaken. Face. How ! Swear by your fac?^ And in a thing so known Unto the doctor? How shall we, sir, trust you In the other matter? can we ever think. When you have won five or six thousand pound, You'll send us shares in't, by this rate ? Dap. By Jove, sir, 450 I'll win ten thousand pound, and send you half. I' fac's no oath. Sub. No, no ; he did but jest. 1 The superstitious regarded this as a good omen, conferring power of second sight. 2 A hit at the Puritans, who avoided oaths. 134 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT I. Face. Go to. Go thank the doctor : he's your friend, To take it so. Dap. I thank his worship. Face. So ! Another angel. Dap. Must I? Face. Must you ! 'SHght, 460 What else is thanks? \\\\\ you be trivial? — Doctor, [Dapper gives hi?n the money. When must he come for his familiar ? Dap. Shall I not have it with me ? Sub. Oh, good sir ! There must a world of ceremonies pass ; You must be bath'd and fumigated first : Besides, the Queen of Fairy does not rise Till it be noon. Face. Not, if she danced, to-night. Sub. And she must bless it. 470 Face. Did you never see Her royal grace yet? Dap. Whom? Face. Your aunt of Fairy? Sub. Not since she kissed him in the cradle, captain ; I can resolve you that. Face. Well, see her grace, Whate'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, 4& 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 : SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. I35 It is the doctor's fear. Dap. How will't be done, then? Face. 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. Face. Enough. \^Knocking within. 49a Sub. Who's there? Anon. {Aside to Face.) Conduct him forth by the back way. Sir, against one o'clock prepare yourself, I 'ill 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 buz} as often ; and then come. \Exit. Face. Can you remember this ? 500 Dap. I warrant you. Face. Well then away. It is 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 Face and Dapper. Sub. {within). Come in ! Good wives, I pray you forbeai me now ; Troth I can do you no good till afternoon. Re-enters, followed by Drugger. What is your name, say you — Abel Drugger? Drug. Yes, sir. Sub. A seller of tobacco*? 510 1 Words used in incantations. 2 A noble was worth 6^. M. 3 xhe fairies insisted on cleanliness. < Tobacco was introduced into England before 1580. 136 THE ALCHEMIST. TACT t Drug. Yes, sir. Sub. Umph ! Free of the grocers ^? Drug. Ay, an't please you. Sub. Well Your business, Abel? Drug. This, an't please your worship : I am a young beginner, and am building Of a new shop, an't like your worship, just At comer of a street : — Here is the plot ^ on't — 5% 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 wish'd ' 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 them Re-enter Face. Face. What ! my honest Abel ? 530 Thou art well met here. Drug. Troth, sir, I was speaking, Just as your worship came here, of your worship : I pray you, speak for me to Master Doctor. Face. 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, 1 Belonging to the grocers' guild. 2 Plan. ' Recommended SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST, 137 Nor buries it in gravel underground, 540 Wrapp'd up in greasy leather or sour clouts ; But keeps it in line lily pots, that, open'd, 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 is a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on. Face. Already, sir, have you found it ? Lo thee, Abel 1 Sub. And in right way toward riches Face. Sir ! 550 Sub. This summer He will be of the clothing of his company,' And next spring call'd to the scarlet ; ^ spend what he can. Face. 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. Face. 'Slid, doctor, how canst thou know this so soon ? I am amused at that ! 560 Sub. By a rule, captain, In metoposcopy,^ which I do work by : A certain star in the forehead, which you see not. Your chestnut or your ohve-colour'd 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. 1 These were to be found in every well-appointed tobacconist's shop ; the weed was shredded on the maple block ; the to/ig's held the live coal, which was of juniper, whose coals burned a long time. 2 Usurer. 3 Livery of the grocers. * Be made sheriff 5 Fortune-telling by examining the countenance. 138 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT L Face. Which finger's that? Sub. His little finger. Look. You were born upon a Wednesday. 570 Drug. Yes, indeed, sir. Sub. The thumb, in chiromancy, we give Venus ; The fore-finger 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 fore-showed He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance. Face. Why, this is strange ! Is it not, honest Nab ? Sub. There is a ship now coming from Ormus That shall yield him such a commodity 58c Of drugs. This is the west, and this the south? \Pointing to the plan. Drug. Yes, sir. Sub. And those are your two sides? Drug. Ay, 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. 590 Drug. Yes, sir. Sub. And Beneath your threshold bury me a loadstone To draw in gallants that wear spurs : the rest, They'll seem to follow. Face. That's a secret. Nab ! 1 Familiar spirits. SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 239 Sub. And on your stall, a puppet/ with a vice And a court-fucus^ to call city-dames.: You shall deal much with minerals. Drug. Sir, I have 60c At home, already Sub. Ay, I know you have arsenic, Vitriol, sal- tartar, argaile, alkali, Cinoper : I know all. — This fellow, captain, Will come, in time, to be a great distiller. And give assay — I will not say directly, But very fair — at the philosopher's stone. Face. Why, how now, Abel ! is this true ? Drug, {aside to Face). Good captain. What must I give ? 610 Face. Nay, I'll not counsel thee. Thou hear'st what wealth — (he says, spend what thou canst) — Thou'rt like to come to. Drug. I would gi' him a crown. Face. A crown ! and toward such a fortune ? Heart, Thou shalt rather gi' him thy shop. No gold about thee? Drug. Yes, I have a portague ^ I have kept this half-year. Face. Out on thee, Nab ! 'Slight, there was such an offer — Shalt keep't no longer, I'll give't him for thee. Doctor, Nab prays your worship to drink this, and sv/ears 620 He will appear more grateful as your skill Does raise him in the world. Drug. I would entreat Another favour of his worship. Face. What is't. Nab ? 1 In the old morality plays a puppet was so dressed. 2 Paint for the face. 3 a Portuguese gold coin worth £'^ 12s, 140 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT I, Drug. But to look over, sir, my almanac, And cross out my ill days, that I may neither Bargain nor trust upon them.' Face. That he shall. Nab ; Leave it, it shall be done 'gainst afternoon. 63a Sub. And a direction for his shelves. Face. Now, Nab, Art thou well pleased, Nab? Drug. 'Thank, sir, both your worships. Face. Away. — \_Exit Drugger. Why, now, you smoky persecutor of nature ! Now do you see that something's to be done Beside your beech-coal and your corsive waters, Your crosslets, crucibles, and cucurbites-? You must have stuff brought home to you, to work on : 640 .\nd yet you think I am at no expense In searching out these veins, then following them. Then trying them out. 'Fore God, my intelligence CJosts me more money than my share oft comes to. In these rare works. Sub. You are pleasant, sir. Re-enter DoL. How now ! What says my Dainty Dolkin? Dol. Yonder fishwife Will not away. And there's your giantess, Come out of I^ambeth. 650 Sub. Heart, I cannot speak with them. Dol. Not afore night, I have told them in a voice, 3 In the almanacs of that period were set down the days propitious and anpropiiious for business. A gourd-shaped vessel for distilling. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. I4I Thorough the trunk, Uke one of your familiars. But I have spied Sir Epicure Mammon Sub. Where? Dol. Coming along, at far end of the lane, Slow of his feet, but earnest of his tongue To one that's with him. Sub. Face, go you, and shift. \_Exit Face. Dol, you must presently make ready too. 66c Dol. Why, what's the matter? Sub. Oh, I did look for him With the sun's rising : marvel he could sleep ; This is the day I am to perfect for him The magisterium, our great work, the stone ; And yield it, made, into his hands : of which He has this month talk'd as he were possess'd. And now he s dealing pieces on't away. — Methinks I see him entering ordinaries. Dispensing for the pox and plaguy houses, 67c Reaching his dose, walking Moorfields for lepers, And offering citizens' wives pomander bracelets,^ As his preservative, made of the elixir ; Searching the spital, to make old bones young ; And the highways for beggars to make rich : I see no end of his labours. He will make Nature asham'd of her long sleep : when art. Who's but a step-dame, shall do more than she. In her best love to mankind, ever could : If his dream lasts, he'll turn the age to gold. {^Exeunt. 68a 1 A ball, or small box, of perfumes was carried in the pocket, or worn on a girdle or bracelet (French pomme d'ambre). i^, THE ALCHEMIST. [act II. ACT II. Scene I. — An Outer Room in Lovtswit's House. Enter Sir Epicure Ma.mmox and Surly. Mam. Come on, sir. Now, you set your foot on shore In Sovo Orbe; here's the rich Peru : .■\nd there within, sir, are the golden mines, Crcat Solomon's Ophir ! he was sailing to't, iliree years, but we have reached it in ten months. This is the day wherein, to all my friends, I will pronounce the happy word. Be rich ; This day you shall be spectatisslmi.^ You shall no more deal with the hollow die Or the frail card.- No more be at charge of keeping lo The house of call for the young heir. No more Shall tnirst of satin, or the covetous hunger Of velvet entrails for a rude-spun cloak,^ To be display'd at Madam Augusta's, make The sons of Sword and Hazard fall before The golden calf, and on their knees, whole nights. Commit idolatry with mne and trumpets : Or go a feasting, after drum and ensign. No more of this. You shall start up young viceroys, .And unto thee I speak it first, Be rich. 20 Where is my Subtle, there ? Within, ho ! Face (within). Sir, he'll come to you by and by. Afam. That is his fire-drake, 1 Most illustrious. - Used by dishonest gamblers. • Cloaks of which the lining was richer than the material. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 143 His Lungs/ his Zephyrus, he that puffs his coals, Till he firk.-' nature up, in her own centre. You are not faithful, sir. This night I'll change All that is metal, in my house, to gold : And early in the morning will I send To all the plumbers and the pewterers, And buy their tin and lead up ; and to Lothbury' 30 For all the copper. Sur. What, and turn that too? Mam. Yes, and I'll purchase Devonshire and Cornwall,* And make them perfect Indies ! You admire now ? Sur. No, faith. Mam. But when you see th' effects of the Great Medicine, Of which one part projected on a hundred Of Mercury, or Venus, or the moon. Shall turn it to as many of the sun ; Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum : 40 You will believe me. Sur. Yes, when I see't I will. But if my eyes do cozen me so, and I Giving them no occasion, sure I'll have A crow shall pluck them out next day. Mam. Ha ! why? Do you think I fable with you? I assure you, He that has once the flower of the sun. The perfect ruby, which we call elixir, 1 The apprentice to an alchemist was called Lungs, because he blew the bellows. 2 Stir, strike (Latin y^«'a). 8 Stow, in his account of London (p. 287) , says that Lothbury is " inhab- ited chiefly by founders, that cast candlesticks, chafing-dishes, spice mortars, and such-like copper works." * That is, convert their minerals to gold. ... THE ALCHEMIST. [act u. 144 Not only can do that, but by its virtue S« Can confer honour, love, respect, long life ; Give safety, valour, yea, and victory, To whom he will. In eight and twenty days, I'll make an old man of fourscore a child. Sur. No doubt ; he's that already. Mum. Nay, I mean. Restore his years, renew him, like an eagle, To the fifth age ; make him get sons and daughters, Young giants ; as our philosophers have done, The ancient patriarchs, afore the flood, 60 But taking, once a week, on a knife's point. The quantity of a grain of mustard of it ; Become stout Marses, and beget young Cupids. Sur. The decay'd vestals of Pickt-hatch ' would thank you, That keep the fire ahve there. Mam. 'Tis the secret Of nature naturized' 'gainst all infections. Cures all diseases coming of all causes ; A month's grief in a day, a year's in twelve ; And of what age soever, in a month : 70 Past all the doses of your drugging doctors, I'll undertake, withal, to fright the plague^ Out of the kingdom in three months. Sur. And I'll i A place of vile repute (in Trumbull Street, Cow Cross, Clerkenwell), where attacks of bullies made a pickt-hatch, or a half-door armed with spikes, a necessary defence. — /?. G. White. Cf. Merry Wives of Windsor, 11.3. * The Schoolmen distinguished between Natura naturans, God the Crea- tor, and natura naturata, the universe created. • There had been a severe plague in 1602, and the theatres had been closed. SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 145 Be bound, the players shall sing your praises then, Without their poets. Mam. Sir, I'll do't. Meantime, I'll give away so much unto my man Shall serve the whole city with preservative Weekly ; each house his dose, and at the rate Sc Sur. As he that built the waterworks does with water? Mam. You are incredulous. Sur. Faith, I have a humour I would not willingly be gull'd. Your stone Cannot transmute me. Mam. Pertinax Surly, Will you believe antiquity? records? I'll show you a book where Moses and his sister, And Solomon have written of the art ; ^ Ay, and a treatise penn'd by Adam 90 Sur. How ! Mam. Of the philosopher's stone, and in High Dutch. Sur. Did Adam write, sir, in High Dutch? Matn. He did ; ® Which proves it was the primitive tongue. Sur. What paper? Mam. On cedar board. Sicr. Oh, that indeed, they say Will last 'gainst worms. Mam. 'Tis like your Irish wood 100 'Gainst cobwebs. I have a piece of Jason's fleece too, Which was no other than a book of alchemy. Writ in large sheepskin, a good fat ram-vellum. 1 Bulmer constructed waterworks for London in 1595. ■■2 Fabricius, in a work on writers on chemistry, included these. 3 This absurdity was affirmed by Goropius Becanus. , ^6 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT II. Such was Pythagoras' thigh, Pandora's tub, And all that fable of Medea's charms, The manner of our work ; the bulls, our furnace, Still breathing fire ; our argent-vive, the dragon : The dragon's teeth, mercury sublimate, I'hat keeps the whiteness, hardness, and the biting; And they are gather'd into Jason's helm, no The alembic, and then sow'd in Mars his field. And thence sublimed so often, till they're fix'd. Both this, the Hesperian garden, Cadmus' story, Jove's shower, the boon of Midas, Argus' eyes, Boccace his Demogorgon, thousands more, All abstract riddles of our stone. — Enter Face as a Servant. How now ! Do we succeed? Is our day come? and holds it? Face. The evening will set red upon you, sir ; Vou have colour for it, crimson^ : the red ferment Has done his office ; three hours hence prepare you 120 To see projection. Mam. Pertinax, my Surly, .Again I say to thee aloud, Be rich. This day thou shalt have ingots ; and to-morrow Give lords th' affront.- — Is it, my Zephyrus, right? Blushes the bolt's head? Face. Aye. Mam. My only care is, 1 Crimsun was the color reached in the last stage before the base metal was projccti'd. ■•' Meet, and look in the face. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. I47 Where to get stuff enough now to project on ; This town will not half serve me. 130 Face. No, sir ! Buy The covering off o' churches. Mam. That's true. Face. Yes. Let them stand bare, as do their auditory ; Or cap them, new, with shingles. Mam. No, good thatch : Thatch will lie light upon the rafters, Lungs. — Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace. I will restore thee thy complexion, Puff, 140 Lost in the embers ; and repair this brain. Hurt with the fume o' the metals. Face. I have blown, sir. Hard for your worship ; thrown by many a coal, When 'twas not beech ^ ; weigh'd those I put in, just, To keep your heat still even ; these bleared eyes Have waked to read your several colours, sir, Of the pale citron, the green Hon, the crow. The peacock's tail, the plumed swan.^ Mam. And, lastly, 15a Thou hast descried the flower, the sanguis agni? Face. Yes, sir. Mam. Where's master? Face. At his prayers, sir, he ; Good man, he's doing his devotions For the success. Mam. Lungs, I will set a period To all thy labours ; thou shalt be the master 1 Alchemists always used charcoal made fiom beechwood. 2 Alchemists attributed peculiar virtues to these. 148 THE ALCHEiMIST. [ACT li. Of my seraglio. Face. Good, sir. 160 Mam. For I do mean To have a list of wives and concubines Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me ; and I will make me a back With the elixir, tough as Hercules. Thou art sure thou saw'st it blood?* Face. Both blood and spirit, sir. AFam. I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft : Do\vn is too hard : and then, mine oval room Fill'd with such pictures as Tiberius took 17c From Elephantis, and dull Aretine But coldly imitated. Then, my glasses Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse And multiply the figures, as I walk. My mists of perfume, vapoured 'bout the room, To lose ourselves in ; and my baths, like pits To fall into ; from whence we will come forth, And roll us dry in gossam^ and roses. — Is it arrived at niby?' — Where I spy A wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer, 180 Have a sublimed pure wife, unto that fellow I'll send a thousand pound to make her mine. Face. And I shall carry it? Mam. No. I'll have no aids,'' 1 The propitious color. - " The judgment is perfectly overwhelmed by the torrent of images, words, and book-knowledge with which Mammon confounds and stuns his incredulous hearer. They come pouring out like the successive strokes cf .Niliis. They 'doubly redouble strokes upon the foe.' Description out- Mridcs proof. We are made to believe effects before we have testimony for Iheir c.iusrs, as a lively description of the joys of heaven sometimes passes SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 149 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 foul wind, 190 Whom I will entertain still for that subject. The few that would give out themselves to be Court and town rakes, and everywhere 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 have the med'cine. My meat shall all come in in Indian shells, Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded 200 With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths and nibies. The tongues of carps, dormice, and camels' heels, Boiled in the spirit of Sol and dissolv'd pearl, Apicius' diet, 'gainst the epilepsy : And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,' Headed with diamond and carbuncle. for an argument to prove the existence of such a place. If there be no one image which rises to the height of the sublime, yet the confluence and assemblage of them all produce an effect equal to the grandest poetry. Xerxes's army, that drank up whole rivers from their numbers, may stand for single Achilles. Epicure Mammon is the most determined offspring oi the author. It has the whole ' matter and copy of the father, eye, nose, lip, and trick of his frown." It is just such a swaggerer as contemporaries have described Ben to be. Mammon is arrogant pretension personified. What a ' tow' ring bravery ' there is in his sensuality ! He affects no pleasure under a sultan. It is as if ' Egypt with Assyria strove in luxury.' " — Charles Lamb. 1 Spoons then had rich ornaments set in them. ijo THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT li. My foot-boy 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 210 Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off, Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce ; For which I'll say unto my cook. There'' s gold : Go forth, and be a knight!' Face. 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, 220 ^^'ere 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 ? Matn. No, I do think t' have all this with the stone. Sur. Why, I have heard he must be homofnigi, .•\ pious, holy, and religious man, One free from mortal sin, a very virgin. Afam. That makes it, sir ; he is so : but I buy it ; My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch, 230 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. 1 Cut in Slices. See Walton's Complete Angler. ' These were birds of the snipe species. « A hit at the recent creation of a large batch of knights by James I, al his »cccssion to the throne in 1603. SCENE!.] THE ALCHEMIST. 15I Not a profane word afore him : 'tis poison. — Enter Subtle. 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. 240 Sub. Son, I doubt You are covetous, that thus you meet your time In 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 leavp you, With your ungovern'd haste. I should be sorry To see my labours, now even at perfection, Got by long watching and large patience, Not prosper where my love and zeal hath placed them 25c Which (heaven I call to witness, with yourself, To whom I have poured my thoughts) in all my ends Have look'd 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 cathoUc a bliss, be sure A curse will follow, yea, and overtake Your subtle and most secret ways. 260 Mam. I know, sir ; You shall not need to fear me : I but come To have you confute this gentleman. 1 Anticipate. ,(._, THE ALCHEMIST. f ACT U. 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, 270 The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven, And make us worthy of it ! — ®lcn Spiegel ! ^ Face {within). Anon, sir. Sub. Look well to the register. ,A.nd let your heat still lessen by degrees, To the aludels.^ Face {within). Yes, sir. Sub. Did you look O' the bolt's head' yet? Face {within). Which? On D, sir? 280 Sub. Ay ; What's the complexion? Face {7vithin). Whitish. Sub. Infuse vinegar. To draw his volatile substance and his tincture : And let the water in glass E be filter'd, .•\nd put into the gripe's-egg.'' Lute him well, .And leave him closed in balneo.^ Face {70 i thin). I will, sir. 1 A notorious rogue, lived in Saxony about 1480. The words mean Owl Glass. 2 Subliming pots without bottoms, fitted into each other without luting. 8 A long-necked vessel, conical in shape. * A vessel shaped like a vulture's egg. ^ lialneum means bath ; in alchemy, to heat a vessel by immersing it in hot water or sand. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 53 Sur. What a brave language here is ! Next to canting. 290 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 of Nature.^ Mam. But 'tis for me? Sub. What need you? You have enough in that is perfect. Matn. Oh, but Sub. Why, this is covetise ! Mam. No, I assure you, 300 I shall employ it all in pious uses. Founding of colleges and grammar schools, Marrying young virgins, building hospitals. And now and theii a church. Re-enter Face. Sub. How now ! Face. Sir, please you, Shall I not change the filter? Sub. Marry, yes ; And bring me the complexion of glass B. \Exit Face. Mam. Have you another? 31c Sub. Yes, son ; were I assured Your piety were firm, we would not want The means to glorify it ; but I hope the best. — 1 mean to tinct C in sand-heat to-morrow, And give him imbibition. Mam. Of white oil? 1 To have passed this was a favorable sign. 3 Slow. ^ Digesting furnace. ,^ . THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT II. Suh. No, sir, of red. F is come over to the helm too, 1 thank my Maker, in St. Mary's bath,' And shows lac virginis. Blessed be heaven ! I sent you of his faeces there calcined : 320 Out of that calx I have won the salt of mercury. Mam. By pouring on your rectified water? Sub. Yes, and reverberating- in Athanor. Re-enter Face. How now ! what colour says it ? Face. The ground black, sir. Mam. That's your crow's head? ^ Sur. Your cock's-comb's, is it not? Siib. No, 'tis not perfect. Would it were the crow ! That work wants something. Sur. Oh, I looked for this. 330 The hay's * a pitching. Sit/>. Are you sure you loosed them In their own menstrue? Face. Yes, sir, and then married them. And put them in a bolt's-head nipp'd to digestion. According as you bade me when I set The liquor of Mars to circulation In the same heat. Sub. The process then was right. Face. Yes, by the token, sir, the retort brake, 340 .\nd what was saved was put into the pelican, 1 Where one vessel was placed in another containing water. ' To heat, by beating back the flames from the top upon the materia] below. • Another hopeful sign. * A net for catching rabbits, by stretching it before their burrows. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 155 And signed with Hermes' seal.^ Sub. I think 'twas so. We should have a new amalgama. Sur. {aside) . Oh, this ferret ^ Is rank as any pole-cat. Sub. But I care not : Let him e'en die ; we have enough beside. In embrion. H has his white shirt on. Face. Yes, sir, 350 He's ripe for inceration, he stands warm In his ash-fire. I would not you should let Any die now, if I might counsel, sir, For luck's sake to the rest : it is not good. Mam. He says right. Sur. {aside). Ay, are you bolted?' Face. Nay, I know't, sir, I have seen the ill fortune. What is some three ounces Of fresh materials ? Mam. Is't no more? 360 Face. No more, sir. Of gold, t'amalgame with some six of mercury. Mam. Away, here's money. What will serve? Face. Ask him, sir. Mam. How much? Sub. Give him nine pound — you may give him ten. Sur. Yes, twenty, and be cozen'd — do. Mam. There 'tis. \_Gives Face the money. Sub. This needs not ; but that you will have it so, To see conclusions of all ; for two 37a 1 Made by heating the neck of a vessel, and then twisting it. 2 Face, having just come from working over the fire, has red eyes. * Punning allusion to the rabbit-net and ferret. r56 THE ALCHEMIST. [act a. Of our inferior works are at fixation,' A third is in ascension. Go your ways. Have you set the oil of luna in kemia? Face. Yes, sir. Sub. And the philosopher's vinegar? Face. Ay. [_Exif. Sur. We shall have a salad ! Matn. When do you make projection? Sub. Son, be not hasty, I exalt our med'cine. By hanging him /« balneo vaporoso, 380 And giving him solution ; then congeal him ; .And then dissolve him ; then again congeal him : For look, how oft I iterate the work So many times I add unto his virtue. As, if at first one ounce convert a hundred. After his second loose, he'll turn a thousand ; His third solution, ten ; his fourth, a hundred ; After his fifth, a thousand thousand ounces Of any imperfect metal, into pure Silver or gold, in all examinations, 390 As good as any of the natural mine. Get you your stuff here against afternoon. Your brass, your pewter, and your andirons. Mam. Not those of iron? Sub. Yes, you may bring them too : We'll change all metals. Sur. I believe you in that. Mam. Then I may send my spits? Sub. Yes, and your racks. Sur. And dripping pans, and pot-hangers, and hooks, 400 Shall he not? ' In a non-volatile state. SCENE i.| THE ALCHEMIST. m-j Sub. If he please. Sur. — To be an ass. Sub. How, sir ! Mam. This gentleman you must bear withal : I told you he had no faith. Sur. And little hope, sir ; But much less charity, should I gull myself. Sub. Why, what have you observed, sir, in our art. Seems so impossible ? 41c Sur. But your whole work, no more. That you should hatch gold in a furnace, sir, As they do eggs in Egypt ! Sub. Sir, do you Believe that eggs are hatched so? Sur. If I should ? Stib. Why, I think that the greater miracle. No egg but differs from a chicken more Than metals in themselves. Sur. That cannot be. 420 The egg's ordained by nature to that end, And is a chicken tn potentia. Sub. The same we say of lead and other metals, Which would be gold if they had time. Mam. And that Our art doth further. Sub. Ay, for 'twere absurd To think that nature in the earth bred gold Perfect in the instant ; something went before. There must be remote matter. 430 Sur. Ay, what is that? Sub. Marry, we say — Mam. Ay, now it heats : stand, father. I ,;8 THE ALCHEMIST. lACT II. Pound him to dust. Su^. It is, of the one part, A humid exhalation, which we call Materia liquida, or the unctuous wa:ter ; On the other part, a certain crass and vicious Portion of earth ; both which, concorporate. Do make the elementary matter of gold ; 440 Which is not yt\. propria materia, But common to all metals and all stones ; For, where it is forsaken of that moisture, And hath more dryness, it becomes a stone ; Where it retains more of the humid fatness, It turns to sulphur or to quicksilver. Who are the parents of all other metals. Nor can this remote matter suddenly Progress so from extreme unto extreme. As to grow gold, and leap o'er all the means. 450 Nature doth first beget the imperfect, then Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that airy And oily water, mercury is engendered ; Sulphur of the fat and earthy part ; the one, Which is the last, supplying the place of male, The other of the female, in all metals. Some do believe hermaphrodeity, That both do act and suffer. But these two Make the rest ductile, malleable, extensive. And even in gold they are ; for we do find 460 Seeds of them, by our fire, and gold in them ; And can produce the species of each metal More perfect thence, than Nature doth in earth. Heside, who doth not see in daily practice Art can beget bees, hornets, beetles, wasps, SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 159 Out of the carcases and dung of creatures ; Yea, scorpions of an herb, being rightly placed ? And these are living creatures, far more perfect And excellent than metals. Ma?ti. Well said, father ! 47c Nay, if he take you in hand, sir, with an argument. He'll bray you in mortar. Sur. Pray you, sir, stay. Rather than I'll be bray'd, sir, I'll believe That Alchemy is a pretty kind of game. Somewhat like tricks o' the cards, to cheat a man With charming. Sub. Sir? Sur. What else are all your terms, Whereon no one of your writers 'grees with other? 480 Of your elixir, your lac virginis, Your stone, your med'cine, and your chrysosperme. Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury. Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood, Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia. Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther ; Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop, Your lato, azoch, zernich, chibrit, heautarit, And then your red man and your white woman. With all your broths, your menstrues, and materials, 490 Of lye and egg-shells, women's terms, man's blood, Hair o' the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay, Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass. And worlds of other strange ingredients. Would burst a man to name ? ' 1 It would be time wasted to rummage the old works on alchemy for an explanation of all these terms, which were doubtless as strange to the major l5o THE ALCHEMIST. fACT a Sul>. And all these named, Intending but one thing ; which art our writers Used to obscure their art. Miun. Sir, so I told him — Because the simple idiot should not learn it, 500 And make it vulgar. Su/>. Was not all the knowledge Of the Egyptians writ in mystic symbols? Speak not the Scriptures oft in parables? Are not the choicest fables of the poets. That were the fountains and first springs of wisdom, Wrapp'd in perplexed allegories ? Mam. I urged that, And cleared to him that Sisyphus was damned To roll the ceaseless stone, only because 510 He would have made ours common. [Dol appears at the door. Who is this? Sub. 'Sprecious ! — What do you mean ? Go in, good lady, Let me entreat you. (Dol retires.) Where's this varlet? Re-enter Face. Face. Sir. Sub. You very knave ! do you use me thus ? Face. Wherein, sir? Sub. Go in and see, you traitor. Go ! \_Exit Face. Mam. Who is it, sir? Sub. Nothing, sir ; nothing. .\fam. What's the matter, good sir? 520 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. \\y of play-goers in Jonson's time as they are to us ; the more common and important are explained in the course of the play. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. l6l Re-enter Face. What now? Face. 'Twas not my fault, sir ; she would speak with you. Sub. Would she, sir ! Follow me. \_Exit. Mam. {^stopping hi7n). Stay, Lungs. Face. I dare not, sir. Mam. Stay, man; what is she? Face. A lord's sister, sir. 530 Mam. How ! pray thee, stay. Face. She's mad, sir, and sent hither — He'll be mad too Main. I warrant thee. Why sent hither? Face, Sir, to be cured. Sub. {within'). Why, rascal ! Face. Lo you ! — Here, sir ! \Exit. Mam. 'Fore God, a Bradamante,^ a brave piece. Su7'. Heart, this is an evil house ! I will be burnt else. 540 Mam. Oh, by this light, no ; do not wrong him. He's 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. Re-enter Face. How now. Lungs ! 1 A Christian amazon, sister to Rinaldo, and mistress of Ruggiero, in Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato, and Ariosto's Orlando Furioso. She pos- sessed an irresistible spear, which unhorsed all her antagonists. — Wheeler: Noted Names 0/ Fiction. 2 Paracelsus was born in 1493 and died in 1541. l62 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT II Face. Softly, sir ; speak softly. I meant To have told your worship all. This must not hear. 550 Mam. No, he will not be " gull'd " : let him alone. Face. You are 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. Mam. How might one do t'have conference with her, Lungs ? Face. Oh, divers have run mad upon the conference : I do not know, sir. I am sent in haste 560 To fetch a vial. Sur. Be not guU'd, Sir Mammon. Mam. Wherein? Pray ye, be patient. Sur. Yes, as you are, And trust confederate knaves and sharks and bawds. Mam. You are too foul, believe it. — Come here, Ulen, One word. Face. I dare not, in good faith. [ Going. Mam. Stay, knave. Face. He is extreme angry that you saw her, sir. 57c 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 quicksilver Over the helm, and circulate like oil, A very vegetal ; discourse of state, Of mathematics, frolic, anything Maw. Is she no way accessible? no means, ' A celebrated divine and Flebrew scholar in Elizabeth's time. SCENE I.") THE ALCHEMIST. 163 No trick to give a man a taste of her wit — Or so? Sub. {jmihui). Ulen ! 58c 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 gulled : 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, 59c The original of this disaster. Her brother Has told me all. 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 ? Mam. My lord He will not have his name known, now I think on it. 6of Sur. A very treacherous memory ! Mam. On my faith Sur. Tut, if you have 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,. 164 i'HE ALCHEMIST. [ACT il. A wise, sir, too, at other times, should thus, 610 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, Or gleek : ^ and take your liiium sapietiiis^ Your memtnium simplex! I'll have gold before you. And with less danger of the quicksilver Or the hot sulphur. Re-enter Face. Face. Here's one from Captain Face, sir {to Surly), Desires you meet him in the Temple Church 62c Some half-hour hence, and upon earnest business. Sir — {whispers Mammon) — if you please to quit us now, and come Again within two hours, you shall have My master busy examining o' the works ; And I will steal you in unto the party, That you may see her converse. Sir, shall I say You'll meet the captain's worship ? Sur. Sir, I will, [ Walks aside. But, by attorney and to a second purpose. Now, I am sure I understand this house ; "^^c 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 In these commodities, the superintendent To all the quainter traffickers in town ! He is the visitor, and does appoint Who visits whoiu, and at what hour ; what price ; 1 A game of cards. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 1 65 Which gown, and in what smock ; what falP ; what tire. Him will I prove, by a third person, to find The subtleties of this dark labyrinth : 640 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. Face. Sir, he does pray you'll not forget. Sur. I will not, sir. Sir Epicure, I shall leave you. \Exit. Mam. I follow you straight. Face. But do so, good sir, to avoid suspicion. This gentleman has a parlous ^ head. Mam. But wilt thou, Ulen, 650 Be constant to thy promise? Face. As my life, sir. Mam. And wilt thou insinuate what I am, and praise me. And say I am a noble fellow ? Face. Oh, what else, sir? And that you'll make her royal with the stone, An empress : and yourself. King of Bantam. Mam. Wilt thou do this? Face. Will I, sir ! Mam. Lungs, my Lungs ! 660 I love thee. Face. Send your stuff, sir, that my master May busy himself about projection. Mam. Thou hast witch'd me, rogue : take, go. [ Gives him money Face. Your jack,' and all, sir. Mam. Thou art a villain — I will send my jack, 1 A ruff, or band, turned back on the shoulders. 2 Perilous. ^ Roasting-jack. 1 66 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT II. 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 bom to make thee, my good weasel, Set thee on a bench, and have thee twirl a chain 671 With the best lord's vermin of 'em all. Face. Away, sir. Afam. A count, nay, a count palatine Face. Good, sir, go. Alum. Shall not advance thee better : no, nor faster. \_Exit. Re-enter Subtle and Dol. Sub. Has he bit ? has he bit ? Face. And swallowed too, my Subtle. 1 have given him line, and now he plays, i' faith. Sub. And shall we twitch him ? 680 Face. Thorough both the gills, for here is a rare bait, with which a man No sooner's taken, but he straight firks mad. Sub. Dol, my Lord What's'hums sister, you must now Bear yourself statclich. Dol. Oh, 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. 690 Face. Well said, sanguine ! Sub. But will he send his andirons? Face. His jack too, And's iron shoeing-horn ; I have spoke to him. Well, I must not loose my wary gamester yonder. scENK I.] thp: alchemist. • i6^ Sal), oh, Monsieur Caution, that will not be gulPd. 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. \_Knocking without. 700 Sub What, more gudgeons ! Dol, scout, scout ! (DoL goes to the window.~) Stay, Face, you must go to the door. Pray God it be my Anabaptist. — Who is't, Dol? Dol. I know him not : he looks Uke a gold-endman.^ 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 7uith the gotvn.) Away, Madam, to your withdrawing chamber. {Exit Dol.) Now, In a new tune, new gesture, but old language. — 710 This fellow is sent from one negotiates 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, i One who buys remnants of gold or silver ; a goldsmith's apprentice. 1 68 THE ALCHEMIST. [act ii. And rectify your menstrue from the phlegma.' Then pour it on the Sol, in the cucurbite, 720 Ami let them macerate - together. Face. Yes, sir. And save the ground? Sub. No : terra datntiata 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? 730 Or what is homogene, or heterogene ? A)ia. I understand no heathen language, truly. Sub. Heathen ! you Knipper-dohng?*' is Ars sacra, Or chrysopoeia, or spagyrica,'' Or the pam[)hysic, 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, 741 Name the vexations and the martyrizations 1 Water of distillation. 2 Steep. 3 The Puritans called each other " faithful brothers." ■• Raymond Lully, one of the most famous philosophers of the Middle Age; b. about 1235, d. 1315.' * George Ripley, canon of Bridlington in the fifteenth centurv, dedicated a great work on alchemy to King Edward IV. See Fuller's Worthies. " An Anabaptist, who rnised a revolt in Munster in 1533. ^ Alchrmical. 8 The Puritans, taking tlic Hebrew Old TeUament for their guide, treated Greek, the language of the New Testament, scornfully. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 169 Of metals in the work. I^ace. 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. 750 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 suppKcium auri? Face. Antimonium. Sub. This is heathen Greek to you? — And what's your mercury ? 760 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, 770 Dry into cold, cold into moist, moist into hot, Hot into dry. Sub. This is heathen Greek to you still ! i Nitro-muriatic acid, to dissolve the gold. , yo THE ALCHEMIST. TACT IL Your lapis philosophicus ? Face. 'Tis a stone, And not a stone ; a spirit, a soul, and a body : \\'hich if you do dissolve, it is dissolved ; If you coagulate, it is coagulated ; If you make it to fly, it flieth. Sub. Enough. [^x// Face. 78c This is heathen Greek to you ! What are you, sir? Ana. Please you, a servant of the exiled brethren That deal >vith widows and with orphans' goods : And make a just account unto the saints : A deacon. Sub. Oh, you are sent from Master Wholesome, Your teacher? Ana. From Tribulation Wholesome, Our very zealous pastor. Sub. Good ! I have 790 Some orphans' goods to come here. Ana. Of what kind, sir? Sub. Pewter and brass, andirons and kitchenware, 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? .9//^. Why do you ask? Ana. Because 8o« 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, SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 17B Till I have talked with your pastor. Have you brought monev To buy more coals? Ana. No, surely. Siib. No ! how so? Ana. The brethren bid me say unto you, sir, 8ic Surely they will not venture any more Till they may see projection. Sub. How ! Ana. You have had, For the instruments, as bricks, and loam, 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 ? 820 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 ! 83c Jjoth 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 1 Red tincture and black. 172 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IL Shall run together again, and all be annulled, Thou wicked Ananias ! {Exit Ananus.) Ihis 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. 840 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 bayards^ 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. .-Vy, a good lucky one, a thriving sign, doctor. Sub. I was devising now. Face. 'Slight, do not say so, 850 He will repent he gave you any more — \Vhat say you to his constellation, doctor. The Balance ? Sub. No, that way is stale and common. A townsman bom in Taurus gives the bull, Or the bull's head : in Aries, the ram, A poor device ! No, I will have his name Formed in some mystic character ; whose radii, Striking the senses of the passers-by. Shall, by a virtual influence, breed affections S'S-. That may result upon the party owns it : As thus Face. Nab ! Sub. He shall have a bel, that's Abel ; 1 Bayard, a blind horse. SCENE I.] • THE ALCHEMIST. 1 73 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. 870 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. 880 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. 890 Face. Good (his match too !) — On, Nab. Drug. And she does strangely long to know her fortune. 1 Dr. John Dee, alchemist and scholar, who modestly said that if he had found a Maecenas, Britain would not have lacked an Aristotle. 2 Ending in a point. j,^ THE ALCHEMIST. , [ACT ii 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 Followed and sought ; Nab, thou shalt tell her this. She'll be more known, more talked of; and your widows 900 .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, .■\nd seeing so many of the city dubbed ? f )ne glass o' thy water, with a madam I know, 910 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 'I'o learn to quarrel, and to live by his wits, .\nd will go down again, and die in the country. Face. Mow! to quarrel? Drug. Yes, sir, to carry quarrels. As gallants do ; to manage them by line.^ 920 Face. 'Slid, Nab, the doctor is the only man In Christendom for him. He has made a table, With mathematical demonstrations, i Cf. Hamlet's " speak by the card." SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 175 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 haply may persuade. Go to : Shalt give his worship a new damask suit Upon the premises. Sub. Oh, good captain ! 93c 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. Oh, no. Face. He will do't. It is the goodest soul Abel ! — Abel, about it. 940 Thou shalt know more anon. Away, begone. — [^x// 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. Sicb. And shall, sir. This works. Face. A wife, a wife for one of us, my dear Subtle ! We'll e'en draw lots, and he that fails, shall have The more in goods. Sub. Faith, best let's see her first, and then determine. 950 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 stayed too long. Sub. I fear it. S^Exeunt. J. 5 THE ALCHEMIST. [act lit ACT III. Scene I. — The Lane before Lovfavit's House. Enter Tribul.a.tion Wholesome and Ananus. 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. lo And for his stone, it is a work of darkness, .\nd 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 ofttimes Made instruments even of the greatest works : Beside, we should give somewhat to man's nature, 20 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. \Miere have you greater atheists than your cooks? Or more profane, or choleric than your glass-men? SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. I77 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, 30 Unto the motives, and the stirrers-up Of humours in the blood. It may be so, Whenas 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 filthy 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 ^Vhat need we have to hasten on the work 40 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 ; auriim potabile being The only med'cine for the civil magistrate T'incHne 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. 50 Tri. Let us call on him then. Ana. The motion's good. And of the spirit ; I will knock first. {Knocks.) Peace within ! [ The door is opened, and they enter. , yg THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT III. Scene II. — A Room in Lovewit's House. Enter SvRTLE, followed by Tribulation ^^c/ Ananias. Slid. Oh, are you come? 'Twas time. Your threescore minutes Were at last thread, you see ; and down had gone Ftirnus acedia, turris circidatoris : Lembec, bolt's-head, retort and peHcan Had all been cinders. — Wicked Ananias ! Art thou returned ? 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. lo 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 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. ao 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? Showed you (beside the main of hiring forces Abroad, drawing the Hollanders, your friends. From the Indies, to serve you with all their fleet) SCENE 11.] THE ALCHEMIST. 179 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, 30 Why, you but send three drops of your elixir, Y6u 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 With the oil of talc : there you have made a friend, And all her friends. A lord that is a leper, 40 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. 50 Sub. Or changing His parcel gilt to massy gold. You cannot But raise your friends. Withal to be of power To pay an army in the field, to buy The kmg of France out of his realms, or Spain Out of his Indies. What can you not do Against lords spiritual or temporal, ^ The Puritans, scrupulous to avoid everything Romish, called Christ»faj l8o THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT III. That shall oppone you ? Tri. Verily, 'tis true. We may be temporal lords ourselves, I take it. 60 Sub. You may be anything, and leave off to make Long-winded exercises ; or suck up Your ha I and hu77i .' 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. 70 'Slight, it shall down : I will not be thus tortured. Tri. I pray you, sir. Sub. All shall perish. I have spoke it. Tri. Let me find grace, sir, in your eyes : the man He stands corrected : neither did his zeal. But as yourself, 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 : 80 Nor take the start of bonds broke but one day, And say they were forfeited by providence. Nor shall you need o'ernight 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 SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. l8l May lay their hair out, or wear doublets, 90 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 icxs 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 tha:t the godly brethren have invented For propagation of the glorious cause, no As very notable means, and whereby also Themselves grow soon, and profitably, famous. Sub. Oh, 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 ! «2« Ana. They are popish all. 1 82 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT in. I will not peace : I will not Tri. Ananias ! Ana. Please the profaVie, 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 faithfitl 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 130 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 inventor}' 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 it you in, by weight. i^c 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, Flo will be silver potate ; then three days Before he citronise : some fifteen days, The magisterium will be perfected. .4na. About the second day of the third week, In the ninth month? Sub. Yes, my good Ananias. ,50 Tri. What will the orphans' goods arise to, think you? Sub. Some hundred marks, as much as filled three cars, SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 183 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 finished. We must now increase Our fire to ignis ardens, we are past Fimits equinus, balnei, cineris, And all those lenter heats. If the holy purse 160 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, 170 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. i8o Sub. There is no scruple. Sir, to be made of it ; believe Ananias : lA fine stroke! The Puritans refused to recognize the then existing civil governments as being divinely sanctioned. l84 THE ALCHEMIST. [act hi. 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 ? \_Ktiockiiig wifiiout. Suh. For that we'll talk anon. There's some to speak with me. Go in, I pray you, .'\nd view the parcels. That's the inventory. I'll come to you straight. [^.V(f««/ Trie, and Aha} Who is it ? — Face ! appear. 19c Enter Face in his uniform. How now ! Good prize? Face. Good plague ! Yond' costive cheater Never came on. Sub. How then ? Face. I have walked 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, .Ml day, for one that will not yield us grains? 200 I know him of old. Sub. Oh, but to have gulled him Had been a mastery. Face. Let him go, black boy ! .•\nd turn thee that some fresh news may possess thee. .V noble count, a don of Spain, my dear Delicious compeer, and my party-bawd, Who is come hither private for his conscience, 1 It is well to remember, ia reading Jonson's satires on the Puritans, that he was brought up in the Church of England, then joined the Catholic Church, and finally returned to Anglicanism. SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 185 And brought munition with him, six great slops,' Bigger than three Dutch hoys,^ beside round trunks,^ 210 Furn/shed 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. Where is the doxy? Sub. I'll send her to thee : And but dispatch my brace of little John Leydens,^ 220 And come again myself. Face. Are they within, then? Sub. Numbering the sum. Face. How much? Srib. 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 230 Enter Dol. Dol. What? Face. Pounds, dainty Dorothy ! Art thou so near? Dol. Yes ; say, lord general, how fares our camp ? 1 Large, loose breeches. 2 Unwieldy Dutch ships. •' Hose. 4 The Cinque Ports were on the south coast of England, facing France, and under the government of a warden. Originally there were five, as the name implies: Dover, Sandwich, Romney, Hastings, and Hithe; Win- chelsea and Rye were added later. 5 The famous Anabaptist leader, put to death in 1536. ,86 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IIL Face. As with the few that had entrenched themselves Safe, by their discipHne, against a world, Dol, And laughed within those trenches, and grew fat With thinking on the booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small parties. This dear hour A doughty don is taken with my Dol ; And thou may'st make his ransom what thou wilt, 24^ My Dousabel ; he shall be brought here fettered With thy fair looks, before he sees thee, — and thrown In a down-bed, as dark as any dungeon ; Till he be tame .'\s the poor blackbirds were in the great frost. Or bees are with a bason ; and so hive him My little God's-gift.' Dol. What is he, general? Face. An adalantado, A grandee, girl. Was not my Dapper here yet? 250 Dol. No. Face. Nor my Drugger? Dol. Neither. Face. A plague on 'em, They are so long a-furnishing ! Such stinkards Would not be seen upon these festival days. — Re-enter Subtle. How now ! have you done? Sub. Done. They are gone : the sum Is here in bank, my Face. I would we knew .Another chapman now would buy 'em outright'. 260 Face. 'Slid, Nab shall do't against he have the widow To furnish household. 1 A play on Dol's name, Dorothea meaning Gois-gifts. liCENE 11.] THE ALCHEMIST. I87 Sub. Excellent, well thought on : Pray God he come ! Face. I pray he keep away Till our new business be o'erpast. Sub. But, Face, How cam'st thou by this secret don ? Face. A spirit Brought me th' intelligence in a paper here, 270 As I was conjuring yonder in my circle For Surly ; I have my flies abroad. Your bath Is famous. Subtle, by my means. Sweet Dol, Tickle him with thy mother- tongue. His great Verdugoship^ has not a jot of language ; So much the easier to be cozened, my Dolly. He will come here in a hired coach, obscure, And our own coachman, whom I have sent as guide, No creature else. {^Knocking without.) Who's that? \^Exit DoL. Sub. It is not he ? 280 Face. O no, not yet this hour. Re-enter DoL. Sub. Who is't? DoL Dapper, Your clerk. Face. God's will then, Queen of Fairy, On with your tire ; — {exit Dol) — and doctor, with yom robes. Let's dispatch him, for God's sake. Sub. 'Twill be long. Face. I warrant you, take but the cue I give you, 1 Verdugo was tlie name of a noble Spanish family. t88 the alchemist. [act hi. It shall be brief enough. — {Goes to the window.) — 'Slight, here are more ! 290 Abel, and I think the angry boy, the heir. That fain would quarrel. Sub. And the widow? Face. No. Not that I see. Away ! \^Exit Sur E?iter Dapper. Oh, sir, you are welcome. The doctor is within a- moving for you ; I have had the most ado to win him to it ! He swears you'll be the darling of the dice : He never heard her highness dote till now. Your aunt has given you the most gracious words 300 That can be thought on. Dap. Shall I see her grace ? Face. See her, and kiss her too. — Enter kv.^\., followed by Kastril. What, honest Nab ! Hast brought the damask ? Drug. No, sir ; here's tobacco. Face. 'Tis well done, Nab : thou'lt bring the damask too? Drug. Yes : here's the gentleman, captain, Master Kastril, I have brought to see the doctor. Face. Where's the widow? Drug. Sir, as he likes, his sister, he says, shall come. 310 Face. Oh, is it so? Good time. Is your name Kastril, sir? Kas. Ay, and the best of the Kastrils, I'd be sorry else, Wy fifteen hundred a-year. Where is the doctor? My mad tobacco-boy, here, tells me of one SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 189 That can do things : has he any skill ? Face. Wherein, sir? Kas. To carry a business, manage a quarrel fairly, Upon fit terms. Face. It seems, sir, you are but young About the town, that can make that a question. 320 Kas. Sir, not so young but I have heard some speech Of the angry boys, and seen them take tobacco, And in his shop ; and I can take it too. And I would fain be one of 'em, and go down And practise in the country. Face. Sir, for the duello. The doctor, I assure you, shall inform you, To the least shadow of a hair, and show you An instrument he has of his own making, Wherewith no sooner shall you make report 330 Of any quarrel, but he will take the height on't Most instantly, and tell in what degree Of safety it lies in, or mortality. And how it may be borne, whether in a right line. Or a half-circle ; or may else be cast Into an angle blunt, if not acute : All this he will demonstrate. And then, rules To give and take the he by. Kas. How ! to take it ? Face. Yes, in obhque he'll show you, or in circle ; ^ 34c But never in diameter. The whole town Study his theorems, and dispute them ordinarily At the eating academies. Kas. But does he teach 1 One critic remarks that Shakespeare, Fletcher, and Jonson tried to bring duelling into disrepute, by satirizing it ; yet Jonson fgught a duel, and killed his man. ipo THE ALCHEMIST. [act III. Living by the wits too ? Face. Anything whatever. You cannot think that subtlety but he reads it. He made me a captain. I was a stark pimp, Just of your standing, 'fore I met with him ; It is not two months since. I'll tell you his method : 350 First, he will enter you at some ordinary.' Kas. No, I'll not come there ; you shall pardon me. Face. For why, sir? Kas. There's gaming there, and tricks. Face. Why, would you be A gallant, and not game ? Kas. Ay, 'twill spend a man. Face. Spend you ! It will repair you when you are spent : How do they live by their wits there, that have vented Six times your fortunes ? 360 Kas. What, three thousand a year ! Face. Ay, forty thousand. Kas. Are there such? Face. Ay, sir, And gallants yet. Here's a young gentleman Is born to nothing — (^points to Dapper) — forty marks a-year, Which I count nothing : — he is to be initiated, And have a fly of the doctor. He will win you. By unresistible luck, within this fortnight, Enough to buy a barony. They will set him 370 Upmost, at the groom porters, all the Christmas : And for the whole year through, at every place Where there is play, present him with the chair ; The best attendance, the best drink ; sometimes Two glasses of canary, and pay nothing ; 1 Eating-place. SCENE 11.] THE ALCHEMIST. I91 The purest linen and the sharpest knife, The partridge next his trencher ; and somewhere The dainty nook in private with the dainty. You shall have your ordinaries bid for him, As playhouses for a poet ; and the master 380 Pray him aloud to name what dish he affects, Which must be buttered shrimps ; and those that drink To no mouth else, will drink to his, as being The goodly president mouth of all the board. Kas. Do you not gull one? Face. Ods, my life ! do you think it? You shall have a cast commander (can but get In credit with a glover, or a spurrier, For some two pair of cither's ware aforehand), Will by most swift posts, dealing with him, 390 Arrive at competent means to keep himself, And be admired for't. Kas. Will the doctor teach this? Face. He will do more, sir : when your land is gone, As men of spirit hate to keep earth long In a vacation, when small money is stirring. And ordinaries suspended till the term. He'll show a perspective, where on one side You shall behold the faces and the persons Of all sufficient young heirs in town, 400 Whose bonds are current for commodity ' ; On th' other side, the merchants' forms, and others, That without help of any second broker. Who would expect a share, will trust such parcels : In the third square, the very street and sign 1 Young spendthrifts had to take in merchandise part of the sums they borrowed from usurers, who thus made a large profit. 192 THE ALCHEMIST (act ill. Where the commodity dwells, and does but wait To be delivered, be it pepper, soap, Hops, or tobacco, oatmeal, wood, or cheeses. All which you may so handle, to enjoy To your own use, and never stand obliged. ^10 Kas. I' faith ! is he such a fellow? Face. Why, Nab here knows him. And then for making matches for rich widows, Young gentlewomen, heirs, the fortunatest man ! He's sent to, far and near, all over England, To have his counsel, and to know their fortunes. Kas. God's will, my suster shall see him. Face. I'll tell you, sir, What he did tell me of Nab. It's a strange thing : — By the way, you must eat no cheese. Nab, it breeds 420 melancholy, And that same melancholy breeds worms ; but pass it : — He told me honest Nab here was ne'er at tavern But once in's life. Drug. Truth, and no more I was not. Face. And then he was so sick Drug. Could he tell you that too? Face. How should I know it? Drug. In troth we had been a-shooting. And had a piece of fat ram mutton to supper, 430 That lay so heavy o' my stomach Face. And he has no head To bear any wine ; for what with the noise of the fiddlers And care of his shop, for he dares keep no servants Drug. My head did so ache Face. As he was fain to be brought home, The doctor told me : and then a good old woman SCENE ii.J THE ALCHEMIST. I93 Drug. Yes, faith — she dwells in Sea-coal Lane — did cure me, With sodden ale and pellitory ^ of the wall ; Cost me but twopence. — I had another sickness 440 Was worse than that. Face. Ay, that was with the grief Thou took'st for being cessed^ at eighteen-pence For the waterwork. Drug. In truth, and it was like T' have cost me almost my life. Face. Thy hair went off? Drug. Yes, sir ; 'twas done for spite. Face. Nay, so says the doctor. Kas. Pray thee, tobacco boy, go fetch my suster ; 450 I'll see this learned boy before I go, And so shall she. Face. Sir, he is busy now ; But if you have a sister to fetch hither, Perhaps your own pains may command her sooner, And he by that time will be free. Kas. I go. \^Exit. Face. Drugger, she's thine : the damask ! \^Exit Abel, {Aside) Subtle and I Must wrestle for her. — Come on, Master Dapper, You see how I turn clients here away, 46a To give your cause dispatch ; have you performed The ceremonies were enjoined you? Dap. Yes, of the vinegar And the clean shirt. Face. 'Tis well : that shirt may do you More worship than you think. Your aunt's a-fire, 1 A kind of weeds which grow on walls. ^ Taxed. 194 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT III. Dut that she will not show it, t' have a sight of you. Have you provided for her grace's servants ? Dap. Yes, here are six score Edward shillings. Face. Good ! 470 Dap. And an old Harry's sovereign. Face. Very good ! Dap. And three James shillings, and an Elizabeth groat ; Just twenty nobles. Face. Oh, you are too just. I would you had had the other noble in Maries. Dap. I have some Philip and Maries. Face. Ay, those same Are best of all : where are they ? Hark, the doctor. Enter Subtle disguised like a priest of Fairy, with a stripe of cloth. Sub. {in a feigned voice) . Is yet her grace's cousin come ? Face. He is come. 4S1 Sub. And is he fasting? Face. Yes. Sub. And hath cried htim? Face. Thrice, you must answer. Dap. Thrice. Sub. And as oft buz ? Face. If you have, say. Dap. I have. Sub. Then, to her cuz, 490 Hoping that he hath vinegared his senses, As he was bid, the Fairy Queen dispenses, By me, this robe, the petticoat of fortune ; Which that he straight put on, she doth importune. And though to fortune ne;ir be her petticoat. SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 195 Vet nearer is her smock, the Queen doth note : And therefore, even of that a piece she hath sent, Which, being a child, to wrap him in was rent ; And prays him for a scarf he now will wear it, With as much love as then her grace did tear it, 500 About his eyes — {they bind him with the rag) — to show he is fortunate. And, trusting unto her to make his state, He'll throw away all worldly pelf about him ; Which that he will perform, she doth not doubt him. Face. She need not doubt him, sir. Alas, he has nothing But what he will part withal as willingly Upon her grace's word — throw away your purse — As she would ask it; — handkerchiefs and all — \_He throws away as they bid him. She cannot bid that thing but he'll obey. — If you have a ring about you, cast it off, 510 Or a silver seal at your wrist ; her grace will send Her fairies here to search you, therefore deal Directly with her highness : if they find That you conceal a mite, you are undone. Dap. Truly, there's all. Face. All what? Dap. My money : truly. Face. Keep nothing that is transitory about you. {Aside to Subtle.) Bid Dol play music. — Look, the elves are come \Jdo\^ plays on the cittern within. To pinch you, if you tell not truth. Advise you. 520 \They pinch him. Dap. Oh ! I have a paper with a spur-ryal ^ in't. Face. Ti, ti. 1 A gold coin, valued at 15J. in 1606. Iq6 the alchemist. [act III They knew't, they say. Sub. Ti, ti, tiy ti. He has more yet. Face. Ti, ti-ti-ti. In the other pocket. \Aside to Sub. Sub. Titi, titi, iiti, titi, titi. They must pinch him or he will never confess, they say. \They pinch him again. Dap. Oh, oh ! Face. Nay, pray you hold : he is her grace's nephew. Ti, ti, ti? What care you ? Good faith, you shall care. — Deal plainly, sir, and shame the fairies. Show 531 You are innocent. Dap. By this good light, I have nothing. Sub. Ti, ti, ti, ti, to, ta. He does equivocate, she says : Ti, ti, do ti, ti, ti, do, ti, da ; and swears by the light when he is blinded. Dap. By this good dark, I have nothing but a half-crown Of gold about my wrist, that my love gave me ; And a leaden heart I wore since she forsook me. Face. I thought 'twas something. And would you incur Your aunt's displeasure for these trifles? Come, 540 I had rather you had thrown away twenty half-crowns. {Takes it off. You may wear your leaden heart still. — Enter Dol hastily. How now I Sub. What news, Dol ? Dol. Yonder's your knight, Sir Mammon. Face. Ods lid, we never thought of him till now I UTiere is he ? Dol. Here hard by : he is at the door. Sub. And you are not ready, now ! Dol, get his suit. {^Exit Doi- SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. I97 He must not be sent back. Face. Oh, by no means. 550 What shall we do with this same puffin ^ here, Now he's on the spit? Sub. Why, lay him back awhile With some device. Re-enter Dol with Face's clothes. — Ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, ti. Would her grace speak with me ? I come. — Help, Dol ! \_Knocking without. Face {speaks through the key-hole). Who's there? Sir Epicure, My master's in the way. Please you to walk Three or four turns, but till his back be turned, And I am for you. Quickly, Dol ! 560 Sub. Her grace Commends her kindly to you. Master Dapper. Dap. I long to see her grace. Sub. She now is set At dinner in her bed, and she has sent you From her own private trencher a dead mouse, And a piece of gingerbread, to be merry withal, And stay your stomach, lest you faint with fasting. Yet if you could hold out till she saw you, she says It would be better for you. S7« Face. Sir, he shall Hold out, an 'twere this two hours, for her highness ; I can assure you that. We will not lose All we have done. Sub. He must not see nor speak To anybody till then. iKindofguU. 1 98 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV. Face. For that we'll put, sir, A stay in's mouth. Sub. Of what? Face. Of gingerbread. 58c Make you it fit. He that hath pleased her grace Thus far, shall not now crinkle^ for a httle. — Gape, sir, and let him fit you. \Thcy thrust a gag of gingerbread in his mouth. Sub. Come along, sir, I now must show you Fortune's privy lodgings. Face. Are they perfumed, and his bath ready ? Sub. All: Only the fumigation's somewhat strong. Face (^speaking through the key-hole). Sir Epicure, I am yours, sir, by-and-by. \_Exeunt with Dapper. ACT IV. Scene I. — A Room in Lovewit's House. Enter Face and Mammon. Face. Oh, sir, you are come in the only finest time. Mam. Where's master? Face. Now preparing for projection, sir. Your stuff will be all changed shortly. Mam. Into gold? Face. To gold and silver, sir. Mam. Silver I care not for. Face. Yes, sir, a little to give beggars. Mam. Where's the lady? ' Bend, waver. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. I99 Face. At hand here. I have told her such brave things of you 10 Touching your bounty and your noble spirit Main. Hast thou ? Face. As she is almost in her fit to see you. But, good sir, no divinity in your conference. For fear of putting her in rage. Mam. I warrant thee. Face. Six men, sir, will not hold her down ; and then If the old man should hear or see you Mam. Fear not. Face. The very house, sir, would run mad. You know it, 20 How scrupulous he is, and violent, 'Gainst the least act of sin.' Physic or mathematics, Poetry, state, or frolic, as I told you. She will endure, and never startle ; but No word of controversy. Mam. I am schooled, good Ulen. Face. And you must praise her house, remember that, And her nobility. Mam. Let me alone : No herald, no, nor antiquary, Lungs, 3° Shall do it better. Go. Face {aside) . Why, this is yet A kind of modern happiness to have Dol Common for a great lady. \_Extt. Mam. Now, Epicure, Heighten thyself, talk to her all in gold ; Rain her as many showers as Jove did drops Unto his Danae ; show the god a miser Compared with Mammon. What ! The stone will do't. 1 Alchemists pretended to lead spotless lives, in order to the success ot their experiments. 200 THE ALCHEMIST. [act iv. She shall feel gold, taste gold, hear gold, sleep gold ; 40 I will be puissant and mighty in my talk to her. Re-enter Face, with Dol richly dressed. Here she comes. Face. To him, Dol, suckle him. This is the noble knight ; I told your ladyship Mam. Madam, with your pardon, I kiss your vesture. Dol. Sir, I were uncivil If I would suffer that ; my lip to you, sir. Mam. I hope my lord, your brother, be in health, lady. Dol. My lord, my brother is, though I no lady, sir. 50 Face {aside). Well said, my Guinea bird. Mam. Right noble madam Face (aside). Oh, we shall have most fierce idolatry. Mam. 'Tis your prerogative Dol. Rather your courtesy. Mam. Were there nought else to enlarge your virtues to me, These answers speak your breeding and your blood. Dol. Blood we boast none, sir, a poor baron's daughter. Mam. Poor! And gat you? Profane not. Had your father Slept all the happy remnant of his life 6c He had done enough to make himself, his issue. And his posterity noble. Dol. Sir, although We may be said to want the gilt and trappings, The dress of honour, yet we strive to keep The seeds and the materials. Main. I do see ^ SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 20I The old ingredient, virtue, was not lost, Nor the drug money used to make your compound. There is a strange nobility in your eye, 70 This lip, that chin ! Methinks you do resemble One of the Austrian princes.^ Face {aside). Very Hke ! Her father was an Irish costermonger.' Afam. The House of Valois^ just had such a nose, And such a forehead yet the Medici Of Florence boast. DoL Troth, and I have been hkened To all these princes. Face {aside). I'll be sworn I heard it. 80 Alain. I know not how ! It is not any one. But e'en the very choice of all their features. Face {aside). I'll in, and laugh. \_Exit. Mam. A certain touch, or air. That sparkles a divinity beyond An earthly beauty ! DoL Oh, you play the courtier. Mam. Good lady, give me leave Dol. In faith I may not. To mock me, sir. 90 Mam. To burn in this sweet flame ; The phoenix never knew a nobler death. Dol. Nay, now you court the courtier, and destroy What you would build : this art, sir, in your words Calls your whole faith in question. 1 The Hapsburgers were noted for " a sweet fulness of the lower lip." Swift assigned this feature to the Emperor of Lilliput. 2 The hucksters in London were usually Irish. 8 The characteristic feature of the Valois was a Roman nose. 202 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV. Mam. By my soul Dol. Nay, oaths are made of the same air, sir. Mam. Nature Never bestow'd upon mortaUty A more unblamed, a more harmonious feature ; loo She played the step-dame in all faces else : Sweet madam, let me be particular Dol. Particular, sir ! I pray you know your distance. Mam. In no ill sense, sweet lady ; but to ask How your fair graces pass the hours ? I see You are lodged here in the house of a rare man. An excellent artist ; but what's that to you ? Dol. Yes, sir ; I study here the mathematics And distillation.^ Mam. Oh, I cry your pardon. no He's a divine instructor : can extract The souls of all things by his art ; call all The virtues and the miracles of the sun Into a temperate furnace ; teach dull nature What her own forces are. A man, the emperor Has courted above Kelly ^ ; sent his medals And chains to invite him. Dol. Ay, and for his physic, sir, 1 That is, astrology and alchemy. 2 Edward Kelly, or Talbot, a notorious impostor of the sixteenth century, was bom at Worcester, and apprenticed to an apothecary. Being con- victed of fraud, his ears were cut off. Dee, another alchemist, took Kelly and Zaski, a young Pole, abroad. Kelly pretended to have discovered the philosopher's stone, and was patronized by the Emperor Rudolf \\, who entertained him at Prague for a long time. But as the stone did not mate- rialize, Kelly and his accomplices were thrown into prison. In attempting to escape. Kellv broke his leg, and died. Gifford remarks that this fraudu- lent trio — Kelly, Dee, and Zaski — may have suggested Subtle, Face, and Dol, to Jonson. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 203 Mam. Above the art of yEsculapius, That drew the envy of the Thunderer ! 120 I know all this, and more. Dol. Troth, I am taken, sir, Whole with these studies, that contemplate nature. Mam. It is a noble humour; but this form Was not intended to so dark a use. Had you been crooked, foul, of some coarse mould, A cloister had done well ; but such a feature That might stand up the glory of a kingdom, To live recluse, is a mere solecism, Though in a nunnery. It must not be. 130 I muse, my lord your brother will permit it : You should spend half my land first, were I he. Does not this diamond better on my finger Than in the quarry? Dol. Yes. Mam. Why, you are like it. You were created, lady, for the light. Here, you shall wear it ; take it, the first pledge Of what I speak, to bind you to believe me. Dol. In chains of adamant ? 140 Mam. Yes, the strongest bands. And take a secret too — here, by your side, Doth stand this hour the happiest man in Europe, Dol. You are contented, sir? Mam. Nay, in true being. The envy of princes and the fear of states. Dol. Say you so, Sir Epicure ? Mam. Yes, and thou shalt prove it. Daughter of honour. I have cast mine eye Upon thy form, and I will rear this beauty 150 204 THE ALCHEMIST. (ACT iv, Above all styles. Dol. You mean no treason, sir? Mavt. No, I will take away that jealousy. I am the lord of the philosopher's stone, And thou the lady. Dol. How sir ! Have you that? Mam. I am the master of the mastery.^ This day the good old wretch here o' the house Has made it for us ; now he's at projection. Think therefore thy first wish now, let me hear it, i6o And it shall rain into thy lap, no shower. But floods of gold, whole cataracts, a deluge, To get a nation on thee. Dol. You are pleased, sir. To work on the ambition of our sex. Mam. I am pleased the glory of her sex should know This nook, here, of the Friars is no climate For her to live obscurely in, to learn Physic and surgery, for the constable's wife Of some odd hundred in Essex ; but come forth 170 And taste the air of palaces ; eat, drink The toils of empirics, and their boasted practice ; I'incture of pearl and coral, gold and amber ; Be seen at feasts and triumphs : have it asked, What miracle she is ; set all the eyes Of court a-fire, like a burning glass, And work them into cinders, when the jewels Of twenty states adorn thee, and the light Strikes out the stars ! that when thy name is mentioned Queens may look pale ; and we but showing our love, 180 Nero's Poppaea may be lost in story ! ^ Magisterium. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 205 Thus will we have it. Dol. I could well consent sir. But in a monarchy how will this be? The prince will soon take notice, and both seize You and your stone, it being a wealth unfit For any private subject. Mam. If he knew it. Dol. Yourself do boast it, sir. Mam. To thee, my life. loo Dol. Oh, but beware, sir ! you may come to end The remnant of your days in a loathed prison, By speaking of it. Mam. 'Tis no idle fear : We'll therefore go withal, my girl, and live In a free state, where we will eat our mullets Soused in high- country wines, sup pheasants' eggs, And have our cockles boiled in silver shells ; Our shrimps to swim again, as when they livgd, In a rare butter made of dolphins' milk, 200 Whose cream does look Uke opals : and with these Delicate meats, set ourselves high for pleasure, And take us down again, and then renew Our youth and strength with drinking the elixir, And so enjoy a perpetuity Of life and lust ! And thou shalt have thy wardrobe Richer than nature's, still to change thyself, And vary oftener, for thy pride, than she, Or art, her wise and almost-equal servant. Re-enter Face. Face. Sir, you are too loud. I hear you every word 210 Into the laboratory. Some fitter place ; 2o6 THE ALCHEMIST. [act iv. The garden or great chamber above. How Uke you her? Mam. Excellent ! Lungs. There's for thee. [Gives htm money. Face. But do you hear? Good sir, beware, no mention of the rabbins. Mam. We think not on 'em. [Exeunt Mam. and Dol. Face. Oh, it is well, sir. — Subtle ! Enter Subtle. ^ Dost thou not laugh ? Sub. Yes ; are they gone ? Face. All's clear. 220 Sub. The widow is come. Face. And your quarrelling disciple ? Sub. Ay. Face. I must to my captainship again, then. Sub. Stay, bring them in first. Face. So I meant. What is she ? A bonnibel? Sub. I know not. Face. We'll draw lots : You'll stand to that? 230 Sub. What else ? Face. Oh, for a suit, To fall now like a curtain, flap ! Sub. To the door, man. Face. You'll have the first kiss, 'cause I am not ready. \ Exit. Sub. Yes. and perhaps hit you through both the nostrils. Face {within). Who would you speak with? Kas. {7C'it/iin). Where's the captain? Face {loifhin). Clone, sir. SCENE I.J THE ALCHEMIST. 207 About some business. 240 Kas. {within). Gone! Face {within). He'll return straight. But Master Doctor, his lieutenant, is here. Enter Kastril, followed by Dame Pliant. Sub. Come near, my worshipful boy, my terrcefili^ That is, my boy of land ; make thy approaches : Welcome ; I know thy lusts and thy desires, And I will serve and satisfy them. Begin, Charge me from thence, or thence, or in this line ; Here is my centre : ground thy quarrel. Kas. You lie. 250 Sub. How, child of wrath and anger ! the loud lie ? For what, my sudden boy ? Kas. Nay, that look you to, I am aforehand. Sub. Oh, this is no true grammar, And as ill logic ! You must render causes, child, Your first and second intentions, know your canons And your divisions, moods, degrees, and differences, Your predicaments, substance, and accident. Series, extern and intern, with their causes, 260 Efficient, material, formal, final. And have your elements perfect? Kas. {aside). What is this ! The angry tongue he talks in? Sub. That false precept Of being aforehand has deceived a number, And made them enter quarrels, oftentimes Before they were aware ; and afterward Against their wills. 2o8 THE ALCHEMIST. [act iv. Kas. How must I do then, sir ? 270 Sub. I cry this lady mercy : she should first Have been saluted. {Kisses her) I do call you lady, Because you are to be one ere't be long. My soft and buxom widow. Kas. Is she, i' faith? Sub. Yes, or my art is an egregious liar. Kas. How know you ? Sub. By inspection on her forehead, And subtlety of her hp, which must be tasted Often, to make a judgment. {Kisses her again.) 'Slight, she melts 250 Like a myrobolane ^ : — here is yet a line. In rivo frontis, tells me he is no knight. Dame P. What is he then, sir? Sub. Let me see your hand. Oh, your linea fortuncB makes it plain ; And Stella here in Monte Veneris. But, most oi a\\,juncfura anmdaris?- He is a soldier, or a man of art, lady. But shall have some great honour shortly. Dame P. Brother, 200 He's a rare man, believe me ! Re-enter Face in his uniform, Kas. Hold your peace. Here comes the t'other rare man. — Save you, captain. Face. Good Master Kastril ! Is this your sister? Kas. Ay, sir. Please you to kuss her, and be proud to know her. Face. I shall be proud to know you, lady. {^Kisses her. » A dried plum. 2 See Subtles speech, p. 138. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 209 Dame P. Brother, He calls me lady too. Kas. Ay, peace : I heard it. \Take5 her aside. 300 Face. The count is come. Sub. Where is he? Face. At the door. Sub. Why, you must entertain him. Face. What will you do With these the while? Stib. Why, have them up, and show them Some fustian book, or the dark glass. Face. 'Fore God, She is a delicate dab-chick ^ ! I must have her. \_Exit. 310 Sub. Must you ! ay, if your fortune will, you must. — Come, sir, the captain will come to us presently : I'll have you to my chamber of demonstrations. Where I will show you both the grammar and logic And rhetoric of quarrelling ; my whole method Drawn out in tables ; and my instrument. That hath the several scales upon't, shall make you Able to quarrel at a straw's-breadth by moonlight. And, lady, I'll have you look in a glass. Some half an hour, but to clear your eyesight, 32c Against you see your fortune ; which is greater Than I may judge upon the sudden, trust me. \_Exit, followed by Kas. and Dame P. Re-enter Face. Face. Where are you, doctor? Sub. {within). I'll come to you presently. 1 Small waterfowl. 2IO THE ALCHEMIST. Fact iv. Face. 1 will have this same widow, now I have seen her, On any composition. Re-enter Subtle. Sub. What do you say? Face. Have you disposed of them ? Sub. I have sent them up. Face. Subtle, in troth, I needs must have this widow. 330 Sub. Is that the matter? Face. Nay, but hear me. Sub. Go to, If you rebel once, Dol shall know it all : Therefore be quiet, and obey your chance. Face. Nay, thou art so violent now. Do but conceive Thou art old and canst not ser\'e Sub. Who cannot? I? 'Slight, I will serve her with thee, for a Face. Nay, 340 Rut understand : I'll give you composition. Sub. I will not treat with thee : v.'hat ! Sell my fortune? 'Tis better than my birthright. Do not murmur : Win her, and carry her. If you grumble, Dol Knows it direcdy. Face. Well, sir, I am silent. Will you go help to fetch in Don in state? \^Exit. Sub. I follow you, sir : we must keep Face in awe, Or he will overlook us like a tyrant. Re-enter Face, introducing Surley disguised as a Spaniard. Brain of a tailor ! who comes here? Don John' ! 350 1 Don John of Austria, hero of the battle of Lepanto in 1571 ; he was often represented in tapestries in Jonson's time. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 21 J Sur. Senores, beso las matios a vuestras mercedes} Sub. Stab me : I shall never hold, man. He looks in that deep ruff like a head in a platter, Served in by a short cloak upon two trestles. Face. Or, what do you say to a collar of brawn, cut down Beneath the souse," and wriggled with a knife ? Sub. 'Slud, he does look too fat to be a Spaniard. Face. Perhaps some Fleming or some Hollander got him In D'Alva's time ; Count Egmont's bastard.^ Sub. Don, 360 Your scurvy, yellow, Madrid face is welcome. Sui-. Gratia. Sub. He speaks out of a fortification. Pray God he have no squibs in those deep sets.* Sur. For dios, senores, muy linda casa!^ Sub. What says he? Face. Praises the house, I think ; I know no more but's action. Sub. Yes, the casa, My precious Diego will prove fair enough ■37c To cozen you in. Do you mark? You shall Be cozened, Diego. Face. Cozened, do you see, My worthy Donzel, cozened. Sur. Entiendo!" 1 Usual Spanish salutation; " Gentlemen, I kiss your hands." 2 Ear. 3 Alva, the atrocious Spanish governor of the Netherlands, from 1567 to 1573, who put to death Egmont, a Flemish noble, in 1568. ■» Plaits in his ruff. '> " Gad, sirs, a very pretty house." « " I understand." 212 THE ALCHEMIST. [act IV. Sub. Do you intend it? So do we, dear Don. Have you brought pistolets ' or portagiies, My solemn Don ? — Dost thou feel any ? Face (Jee/s his pockets) . Full. Si/d. You shall be emptied, Don, pumped and drawn 380 Dry, as they say. Face. Milked, in troth, sweet Don. Sub. See all the monsters ; the great lion of all, Don. Sur. Coti licencia, se puede ver a esta senora ?- Sub. What talks he now? Face. Of the senora. Sub. Oh, Don, That is the lioness, which you shall see Also, my Don. Face. 'Slid, Subtle, how shall we do? 390 Sub. For what? Face. Why Dol's employed, you know. Sub. That's true, 'Fore heaven I know not : he must stay, that's all. Face. Stay ! that he must not by no means. Sub. No! Why? Face. Unless you'll mar all. 'Slight, he will suspect it : And then he will not pay, not half so well. This is a travelled master, and does know All the delays ; a notable hot rascal, 400 And looks already rampant. Sub. 'Sdeath, and Mammon must not be troubled. Face. Mammon ! in no case. Sub. What shall we do then ? Face. Think : you must be sudden. 1 Coins. 2 " If you please, may I see the lady ? " SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 213 Sur. Entiendo que la senora es ian hertnosa, que codicio tan verla, eomo la bien aventuranqa de mi vida} Face. Mi vida ! 'Slid, Subtle, he puts me in mind o' the widow. What dost thou say to draw her to it, ha ! And tell her 'tis her fortune ? All our venture 410 Now lies upon't. It is but one man more, Which of us chance to have her : and beside, — What dost thou think on't, Subde ? Sub. Who, I? Why Face. The credit of our house too is engaged. Sub. You made me an offer for my share erewhile. What wilt thou give me i' faith ? Face. Oh, by that light I'll not buy now : you know your doom to rae. E'en take your lot, obey your chance, sir ; win her, 420 And wear her out, for me. Sub. 'Slight, I'll not have her then. Face. It is the common cause ; therefore bethink you. Dol else must know it as you said. Sub. I care not. Sur. Sehores, porque se tarda tanto?"^ Sub. Faith, I am not fit, I am old. Face. That's now no reason, sir. Sur. Puede ser, de hacer burla de mi amor ?^ Face. You hear the Don too? by this air I call, 430 And loose the hinges : Dol ! Sub. A plague of hell Face. Will you then do ? 1 " I hear the lady is so handsome, that I am eager to see her, as the best fortune of my life." 2 " Why this long delay, sirs ? " 3 " Can it be to make sport of my love ? " 214 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT iv. Sub. You are a terrible rogue ! I'll think of this : will you, sir, call the widow? Face. Yes, and I'll take her too with all her faults, Now I do think on't better. Sub. With all my heart, sir ; Am I discharged o' the lot? Face. As you please. 440 Sub. Hands. \_They take hands. Face. Remember now, that upon any change You never claim her. Sub. Much good joy and health to you, sir. Marry her so ! Fate, let me wed a witch first. Sur. For estas honradas barbas^ Sub. He swears by his beard. Dispatch, and call the brother too. \_Exit Face. Sur. Tengo duda, senores, que 710 me hagan alguna traycion? 450 Sub. How, issue on? yes, prassto, senor. Please you Enthratha the chambraiha, worthy Don : Where if you please the fates, in your bathada. You shall be soaked, and stroked, and tubbed, and rubbed, And scrubbed, and fubbed, dear Don, before you go. You shall in faith, my scurvy baboon Don, Be curried, clawed, and flawed, and tawed indeed. I will the heartilier go about it now, And make the widow yours so much the sooner, To be revenged on this impetuous Face : 460 The quickly doing of it is the grace. \_Fxeunt Sub. ajtd Surly .^ 1 " By these honored beards." 2 " I suspect, sirs, that you are playing a trick on me." ^ " The Spanish speeches smack of a Conversation Book. Jonson seems to have borrowed this device from Plautus. in Pcenulus." —Gifford. SCENE II.J THE ALCHEMIST. 215 Scene II. — Another Room in the same. Enter Face, KLastril, and Dame Pliant. Face. Come, lady : I knew the doctor would not leave Till he had found the very nick of her fortune. Kas. To be a countess, say you, a Spanish countess, sir ? Dame P. Why, is that better than an English countess ? Face. Better ! 'Slight, make you that a question, lady?^ Kas. Nay, she is a fool, captain, you must pardon her. Face. Ask from your courtier, to your Inns-of-Court man, To your mere milliner ; they will tell you all. Your Spanish gennet is the best horse ; your Spanish Stoup^ is the best garb ; your Spanish beard 10 Is the best cut ; your Spanish ruffs are the best Wear ; your Spanish pavin' the best dance ; Your Spanish titillation in a glove The best perfume : and for your Spanish pike And Spanish blade, let your poor captain speak — Here comes the doctor. Enter Subtle, with a paper. Sub. My most honoured lady. For so I am now to style you, having found By this my scheme you are to undergo An honourable fortune very shortly, 20 What will you say now, if some Face. I have told her all, sir ; And her right worshipful brother here, that she shall be 1 In the early years of James I's reign, Spanish influence and Spanish fashions were paramount in English court society. 2 No commentator nor dictionary explains this word. 3 The/afa«^, a grave and stately dance, so called from the city of Pavia 2l6 THE ALCHEMIST. [act iv. A countess ; do not delay them, sir : a Spanish countess. Si/f). Still, my scarce-worshipful captain, you can keep No secret ! Well, since he has told you, madam, Do you forgive him, and I do. Kas. She shall do that, sir ; I'll look to't, 'tis my charge. Sub. Well then ; nought rests 3c But that she fit her love now to her fortune. Dajne P. Truly, I shall never brook a Spaniard. Sub. No ! Da7ne P. Never since eighty-eight ^ could 1 abide them, And that was some three years afore I was born, in truth. Sub. Come, you must love him, or be miserable ; Choose which you will. Face. By this good rush, persuade her. Kas. Ods lid, you shall love him, or I'll kick you. Dame P. Why, 40 I'll do as you will have me, brother. Kas. Do, Or by this hand I'll maul you. Face. Nay, good sir. Be not so fierce. Sub. No, my enraged child ; She will be ruled. What, when she comes to taste The pleasures of a countess ! to be courted Face. .And kissed, and then come forth in pomp. Sub. .And know her state ! tjo Face. Of keeping all the idolators of the chamber Barer to her than at their prayers ! Sub. Is served Upon the knee ! 1 1588 ; when the English defeated the Spanish Armada. SCENE 11.] THE ALCHEMIST. 21? Face. And has her pages, ushers, Footmen, and coaches Sub. Her six mares Face. Nay, eight ! Sub. To hurry her through London, to the Exchange, Bethlem,^ the china-houses 60 Face. Yes, and have The citizens gape at her, and praise her tires, And my lord's humble bands, that ride with her. Kas. Most brave ! By this hand, you are not my suster If you refuse. Dame P. I will not refuse, brother. Enter Surly. Sur. Que es esto, senores, que non venga ? Esta tardanza me mata ! ^ Face. It is the Count come : The doctor knew he would be here, by his art. 70 Sub. En gallanta madama, Don .' gallantissima ! Sur. For iodos los dioses, la mas acabada hermosura, que he vis to en mi inda f ^ Face. Is't not a gallant language that they speak? Kas. An admirable language ! Is't not French ? Face. No, Spanish, sir. Kas. It goes like law-French, .^nd that, they say, is the courtliest language. Face. List, sir. Sur. El sol ha perdido su lumbre, con el esplandor qui trae esta dama ! Valgame dios I * 81 1 Bedlam, the madhouse. 2 " Why doesn't she come, sirs? This delay kills me." 8 " By all the gods, the most perfect beauty I ever saw ! " < " The sun has lost its light, from the splendor this lady brmgs." 2l8 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT TV Face. He admires your sister. Kas. Must not she make curtsey? Sub. Ods will, she must go to him, man, and kiss him ! It is the Spanish fashion for the women To make first court. Face. 'Tis true he tells you, sir : His art know§ all. Ski-. Porque no se acude ?^ ^ Kas. He speaks to her, I think. 90 Face. That he does, sir. Sur. For el amor de dios, que es esto que se tarda ?^ Kas. Nay, see : she will not understand him ! Gull, Noddy.^ Dame P. What say you, brother? Kas. Ass, my suster. Go kuss him, as the cunning nfian would have you ; I'll thrust a pin in you else. Face. Oh no, sir. Sur. SeTiora mia, mi persona esta muy indigna de allegar a tayiia hermosura.* loi Face. Does he not use her bravely ? Kas. Bravely, i' faith ! Face. Nay, he will use her better. Kas. Do you think so? Sur. Sehora, si sera sennda entremonos ." \^Exit with Dame Pliant. Kas. Where does he carry her? Face. Into the garden, sir ; 1 " Why don't you obey ? " 2 " Why this delay ? " 8 Simpleton. < " Madam, I am very unworthy to approach such beauty." '' " Madam, you shall be obeyed ; let us enter." SCENE ui.] THE ALCHEMIST. 219 Take you no thought ; I must interpret for her. Sub. {aside to Face, who goes out) . Give Dol the word.* — Come, my fierce child, advance, no We'll to our quarrelUng lesson again. Kas. Agreed. I love a Spanish boy with all my heart. Sub. Nay, and by this means, sir, you shall be brother To a great count. Kas. Ay, I knew that at first. This match will advance the house of the Kastrils. Sub. Pray God your sister prove but pliant ! Kas. Why, Her name is so, by her other husband. 120 Sub. How? Kas. The Widow Pliant. Knew you not that? Sub. No, faith, sir ; Yet, by erection of her figure, I guessed it. Come, let's go practise. Kas. Yes, but do you think, doctor, I e'er shall quarrel well? Sub. I warrant you. \_Exeunt. Scene HI. — Another Room in the same. Enter Dol in her fit of raving, followed by Mammon. Dol. For after Alexander's death Mam. Good lady Dol. That Perdiccas and Antigonus were slain, The two that stood, Seleuc', and Ptolemy Mam. Madam. 1 To begin her counterfeit frenzy. 2 20 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV, Dot. Made up the two legs, and the fourth beast, That was Gog-north and Egypt-south : which after Was called Gog-iron-leg and South-iron-leg Mam. Lady Dol. And then Gog-horned. So was Egypt too : lo Then Egypt-clay-leg and Gog-clay-leg Mam. Sweet madam Dol. And last Gog-dust and Egypt-dust, which fall In the last link of the fourth chain. And these Be stars in story, which none see or look at Mam. What shall I do? Dol. For, as he says, except We call the rabbins, and the heathen Greeks Mam. Dear lady Dol. To come from Salem and from Athens, 20 And teach the people of Great Britain Enter Face, hastily, in his Servant's dress. Face. What's the matter, sir? Dol. To speak the tongue of Eber and Javan Mam. Oh, She's in her fit. Dol. We shall know nothing Face. Death, sir, We are undone ! Dol. Where then a learned linguist Shall see the ancient used communion 30 Of vowels and consonants Face. My master will hear ! Dol. A wisdom which Pythagoras held most high Mam. Sweet honourable lady ! Dol. To comprise SCENE III.] THE ALCHEMIST. 221 All sounds of voices, in few marks of letters Face. Nay, you must never hope to lay her now. [ They all speak. Dol. And so we may arrive by Talmud skill And profane Greek, to raise the building up Of Helen's house against the Ishmaelite, 40 King of Thogarma, and his habergions Brimstony, blue, and fiery ; and the force Of King Abaddon, and the beast of Cittim : Which Rabbi David Kimchi, Onkelos, And Aben Ezra do interpret Rome. Face. How did you put her into't? Mam. Alas ! I talked Of a fifth monarchy I would erect, With the philosopher's stone, by chance, and she Falls on the other four straight.^ 5? Face. Out of Broughton ! I told you so. 'Slid, stop her mouth. Mam. Is't best? Face. She'll never leave else. If the old man hear her Sub. {within). What's to do there? Face. Oh, we are lost ! Now she hears him, she is quiet. Enter Subtle ; they run different ways. Mam. Where shall I hide me ! Sub. How ! what sight is here ? Close deeds of darkness, and that shun the light ! Bring him again. Who is he ? What, my son ? 60 Oh, I have lived too long. 1 From Broughton's Concert of Scripture. Broughton was educated by Bernard Gilpin, and sent by him to Cambridge. Later, he quitted the Church of England and joined the Brownists at Amsterdam ; died in 1612. 222 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV. Mam. Nay, good, dear father, There was no evil purpose. Sub. Not ! and flee me. When I come in ? Mam. That was my error. Sub. Error ! Guilt, guilt, my son : give it the right name. No marvel If I found check in our great work within. When such affairs as these were managing. 70 Mam. Why, have you so ? Sub. It has stood still this half-hour : And all the rest of our less works gone back. Where is the instrument of wickedness, My lewd false drudge ? Mam. Nay, good sir, blame not him ; Believe me, 'twas against his will or knowledge : I saw her by chance. Sub. Will you commit more sin, To excuse a varlet ? 80 Mam. By my hope, 'tis true, sir. Sub. Nay, then I wonder less, if you, for whom The blessing was prepared, would so tempt heaven, And lose your fortunes. Mam. Why, sir? Sub. This will retard The work a month at least. Mam. Why, if it do. What remedy ? But think it not, good father : Our purposes were honest. 90 Sub. As they were. So the reward will prove — \_A loud explosion within. How now ! Ah me ! SCENE III.] THE ALCHEMIST. 223 God and all saints be good to us. Re-enter Face. What's that? Face. Oh, sir, we are defeated ! All the works Are flown tnfumo, every glass is burst : Furnace and all rent down ; as if a bolt Of thunder had been driven through the house. Retorts, receivers, pelicans, bolt-heads, All struck in shivers ! [Subtle /d;/Zf dow?i as in a sivoon. Help, good sir ! Alas, Coldness and death invades him. Nay, Sir Mammon, Do the fair offices of a man ! You stand 100 As you were readier to depart than he. \_Knocking within. Who's there ? My lord her brother is come. Mam. Ha, Lungs ! Face. His coach is at the door. Avoid his sight, For he's as furious as his sister's mad. Mam. Alas ! Face. My brain is quite undone with fume, sir, I ne'er must hope to be mine own man again. Mam. Is all lost, Lungs? Will nothing be preserved Of all our cost? no Face. Faith, very little, sir ; A peck of coals or so, which is cold comfort, sir. Mam. Oh, my voluptuous mind ! I am justly punished. Face. And so am I, sir. Mam. Cast forth from all my hopes Face. Nay, certainties, sir. Mafn. By mine own base affections. Sub. {seeming to come to himself). Oh, the curst fruits of vice and lust ! 224 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV Matn. Good father, It was my sin. Forgive it. 120 Sub. Hangs my roof Over us still, and will not fall, O justice, Upon us, for this wicked man ! Face. Nay, look, sir. You grieve him now with staying in his sight ; Good sir, the nobleman will come too, and take you, And that may breed a tragedy. Mam. I'll go. Face. Ay, and repent at home, sir. It may be, For some good penance you may have it yet ; 13c A hundred pound to the box at Bethlem Matn. Yes. Face. For the restoring such as have their wits. Mam. I'll do't. Face. I'll send one to you to receive it. Mam. Do. Is no projection left? Face. All flown, or stinks, sir. Mam. Will nought be saved that's good for med'cine, think'st thou? Face. I cannot tell, sir. There will be perhaps 140 Something about the scraping of the shards Will cure the itch — {aside) though not your itch of mind, sir. It shall be saved for you, and sent home. Good sir. This way for fear the lord should meet you. \_Exit Mammon. Sub. {raising his head). Face! Face. Ay. Sub. Is he gone? SCENE IV.] THE ALCHEMIST. 225 Face. Yes, and as heavily As all the gold he hoped for were in's blood. Let us be light, though. 150 Sub. {leaping up) . Ay, as balls, and bound And hit our heads against the roof for joy : There's so much of our care now cast away. Face. Now to our Don. Sub. Yes, your young widow by this time Is made a countess, Face. Face. Good, sir. Sub. Off with your case, And greet her kindly, as a bridegroom should, After these common hazards. iCo Face. Very well, sir. Will you go fetch Don Diego off, the while ? Sub. And fetch him over too, if you'll be pleased, sir : Would Dol were in her place, to pick his pockets now ! Face. Why, you can do't as well, if you would set to't. I pray you prove your virtue. Sub. For your sake, sir. \_Exeiint Scene IV. — Another Room in the same. Enter Surly and Dame Plunt. Sur. Lady, you see into what hands you are fallen ; 'Mongst what a nest of villains ! and how near Your honour was to have catch ed a certain flaw, Through your credulity, had I but been So punctually forward, as place, time, And other circumstances would have made a man ; For you're a handsome woman : would you were wise too ! 226 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV. I am a gentleman come here disguised, Only to find the knaveries of this citadel ; And where I might have wronged your honour, and have not, I claim some interest in your love. You are, n They say, a widow, rich ; and I'm a bachelor, Worth nought : your fortunes may make me a man, As mine have preserved you a woman. Think upon it, And whether I have deserved you or no. Dame P. I will, sir. Sur. And for these household rogues, let me alone To treat with them. Enter Subtle. Sub. How doth my noble Diego, And my dear Madam Countess ? Hath the Count 2c Been courteous, lady? liberal and open? Donzel, methinks you look melancholic After your interview, and scurvy : truly I do not like the dulness of your eye ; It hath a heavy cast, 'tis upsee Dutch,^ And says you are a lumpish cavalier. Be lighter, I will make your pockets so. ^Attempts to pick them. Sur. {throws open his cloak). Will you, Don Bawd and Pick-purse? {Strikes him down.) How now ! Reel you? Stand up, sir ; you shall find, since I am so heavy, I'll give you equal vveight. 30 Sud. Help ! murder ! Sur. No, sir, 1 From the Dutch opzee, over sea. A thick Dutch beer was much drunk in England. SCENE IV.J THE ALCHEMIST. 22 -y There's no such thing intended : a good cart And a clean whip shall ease you of that fear. I am the Spanish Don that should be cozen' d — Do you see, cozerCd ! Where's your Captain Face, That parcel broker, and whole-bawd, all rascal ! Enter Face in his uniform. Face. How, Surly 1 Sur. Oh, make your approach, good captain. T have found from whence your copper rings and spoons 4c Come, now, wherewith you cheat abroad in taverns. 'Twas here you learned t' anoint your boot with brimstone. Then rub men's gold on't for a kind of touch. And say 'twas nought, when you had changed the colour, That you might have 't for nothing. And this doctor. Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he Will close you so much gold, in a bolt's-head. And, on a turn, convey in the stead another With sublimed mercury, that shall burst in the heat. And fly out all infutno! Then weeps Mammon ; 50 Then swoons his worship. (Face slips out.) Or, he is the Faustus That casteth figures and can conjure, cures Plagues, piles, and pox, by the ephemerides,^ And holds intelligence while you send in — Captain — what ! is he gone ? \_Seizes Subtle as he is retiring. Nay, you must tarry, Though he be 'scaped, and answer by the ears, sir. Re-enter Face with Kastril. Face. Why, now's the time, if ever you will quarrel 1 Astronomical almanacs- 228 THE ALCHEMIST. [act iv. Well, as they say, and be a true-born child : The doctor and your sister both are abused. Kas. Where is he ? Which is he ? He is a slave, 60 Whate'er he is, and he must answer me. — Are you The man, sir, I would know? Sur. I should be loth, sir, To confess so much, Kas. Then you lie in your throat. Sur. How ! Face ( to Kastril) . A very errant rogue, sir, and a cheater. Employed here by another conjurer, That does not love the doctor, and would cross him If he knew how. 70 Sur. Sir, you are abused. Kas. You lie ; And 'tis no matter. Face. Well said, sir ! He is The impudentest rascal Sur. You are indeed : will you hear me, sir? Face. By no means : bid him begone. Kas. Begone, sir, quickly. Sur. This is strange ! — Lady, do you inform your brother. Face. There is not such a foist ^ in all the town, 80 The doctor had him presently ; and finds yet The Spanish count will come here. {^Aside) Bear up, Subtle. Sub. Yes, sir, he must appear within this hour. Face. And yet this rogue would come in a disguise, By the temptation of another spirit. To trouble our art, though he could not hurt it ! Kas. Ay, 1 Cheating rogue. SCENE IV.] THE ALCHEMIST. 229 I know — Away — {to his sister) — you talk like a foolish mauther.^ Siir. Sir, all is truth she says. Face. Do not believe him, sir. 9° He is the lyingest swabber ! Come your ways, sir. Sur. You are valiant out of company ! Kas, Yes ; how then, sir. Enter Drugger with a piece of damask. Face. Nay, here's an honest fellow too, that knows him And all his tricks. {Aside to Drug.) Make good what I say, Abel; This cheater would have cozened thee o' the widow. He owes this honest Drugger here, seven pound, He has had on him, in twopen'orths of tobacco. Drug. Yes, sir. And he has damned himself three terms to pay me. 100 Face. And what does he owe for lotium ? Drug. Thirty shillings, sir ; And for six syringes. Sur. Hydra of villainy ! Face. Nay, sir ; you must quarrel him out o' the house. Kas. I will : — Sir, if you get not out o' doors, you lie ! And you are a pimp. Sur. Why, this is madness, sir, Not valour in you ; I must laugh at this. iw Kas. It is my humour ; you are a pimp and a trig, And an Amadis de Gaul or a Don Quixote. Drug. Or a knight o' the curious coxcomb, do you see ? I An awkward, rustic woman; the term is still used in Norfolkshire. ,,0 THE ALCHEMIST. [act nr Enter Ananias. Ana. Peace to the household ! Kas. I'll keep peace for no man. Ana. Casting of dollars is concluded lawful. Kas. Is he the constable? Sub. Peace, Ananias. Face. No, sir. Kas. Then you are an otter, a shad, a whit, a very tim. 12c Sur. You'll hear me, sir? Kas. I will not. Ana. What is the motive? Sub. Zeal in the young gentleman Against his Spanish slops. Ana. They are profane, Lewd, superstitious, and idolatrous breeches. Sur. New rascals ! Kas. Will you begone, sir? Ana. Avoid, Satan ! 130 Thou art not of the light : that ruff of pride About thy neck betrays thee ; and is the same With that which the unclean birds, in seventy-seven,* Were seen to prank it with on divers coasts : Thou look'st like Antichrist, in that lewd hat. Sur. I must give way. Kas. Begone, sir. Sur. But I'll take A course with you Ana. Depart, proud Spanish fiend ! 140 Sur. Captain and Doctor. Ana. Child of perdition ! 1 Probably refers to depredations of Spaniards, but in what localities is not clear. SCENE IV.] THE ALCHEMIST. 23 1 Kas. Hence, sir ! \Exit Surly. Did I not quarrel bravely? Face. Yes, indeed, sir. Kas. Nay, and I give my mind to't, I shall do't. Face. Oh, you must follow, sir, and threaten him tame : He'll turn again else. Kas. I'll re-turn him then. \^Exit. [Subtle takes Ananias a^ide. Face. Drugger, this rogue prevented us for thee : 150 We had determined that thou should'st have come In a Spanish suit, and have carried her so ; and he, A brokerly slave ! goes, puts it on himself. Hast brought the damask? Drug. Yes, sir. Face. Thou must borrow A Spanish suit : hast thou no credit with the players ? Drug. Yes, sir ; did you never see me play the fool ? Fai;e. I know not, Nab : — {aside) Thou shalt, if I can help it. — Hieronymo's ' old cloak, ruff, and hat will serve ; i6c I'll tell thee more when thou bring'st 'em. \_Exii Drugger. Ana. Sir, I know The Spaniard hates the brethren, and hath spies Upon their actions : and that this was one I make no scruple. — But the holy synod Have been in prayer and meditation for it ; And 'tis revealed, no less to them than me. That casting of money is most lawful. Sub. True, But here I cannot do it ; if the house 17c ' Chiet character in Thomas Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, a play much ridi culed by Elizabethan dramatists. 232 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT IV. Should chance to be suspected, all would out, And we be locked up in the Tower for ever, To make gold there for the state, never come out ; And then are you defeated. Ana. I will tell This to the elders and the weaker brethren, That the whole company of the separation May join in humble prayer again. Sub. And fasting. Ana. Yea, for some fitter place. The peace of mind iSo Rest with these walls ! [Exit. Sub. Thanks, courteous Ananias. Face. What did he come for? Sub. About casting dollars. Presently out of hand. And so I told him A Spanish minister came here to spy Against the faithful Face. I conceive. Come, Subtle, Thou art so down upon the least disaster ! How wouldst thou ha' done, if I had not helped thee out ? 190 Sub. I thank thee. Face, for the angry boy, i' faith. Face. Who would have looked it should have been that rascal Surly? he had dyed his beard and all. Well, sir, Here's damask come to make you a suit. Sub. Where's Drugger? Face. He is gone to borrow me a Spanish habit ; I'll be the count, now. Sub. But Where's the widow? Face. Within, with my lord's sister ; Madam Del Is entertaining her. 200 Sub. By your favour. Face, SCENE IV.] THE ALCHEMIST, 233 Now she is honest, I will stand again. Face. You will not offer it. Sub. Why? Face. Stand to your word, Or — here comes Dol, she knows Sub. You are tyrannous still. Enter Dol, hastily. Face. Strict for my right. — How now, Dol ! Hast [thou] told her, The Spanish Count will come? Dol. Yes ; but another is come 210 You little looked for ! Face. Who is that? Dol. Your master ; The master of the house. Sub. How, Dol ! Face. She lies. This is some trick. Come, leave your quiblins,^ Dorothy. Dol. Look out and see. \Yk.<:v.goes to the window. Sub. Art thou in earnest? Dol. 'Slight, 22c Forty o' the neighbours are about him, talking. Face. 'Tis he, by this good day. Dol. 'Twill prove ill day For some on us. Face. We are undone, and taken. Dol. Lost, I'm afraid. Sub. You said he would not come While there died one a week within the liberties Face, No : 'twas within the walls. 1 Petty duplicities. 2 34 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT V. Sub. Was't so ! cry you mercy. 230 I thought the Hberties. What shall we do now, Face? Face. Be silent : not a word, if he call or knock, I'll into mine own shape again and meet him, Of Jeremy, the butler. In the meantime. Do you two pack up all the goods and purchase * That we can carry in the two trunks. I'll keep him Off for to-day, if I cannot longer : and then At night I'll ship you both away to Ratcliff, Where we will meet to-morrow, and there we'll share. Let Mammon's brass and pewter keep the cellar ; 24c We'll have another time for that. But, Dol, Prythee go heat a little water quickly ; Subtle must shave me : all my captain's beard Must off, to make me appear smooth Jeremy. You'll do it? Sub. Yes, I'll shave you, as well as I can. Face. And not cut my throat, but trim me ? Sub. You shall see, sir.^ \Exeiini ACT V. Scene I. — Before Lovewit's Door. Enter Lovewit, with several of the Neighbours. Love. Has there been much resort, say you ? 1st Nei. Daily, sir. 1 Cant word for stolen goods. Cf. Henry V, iii, 2 : " They will steal any- thing and call it — purchase." 2 " I do not believe that any scene in the whole compass of the English Drama is worked up with so much comic skill and knowledge of effect as the conclusion of this masterly act." — Gifford, SCENE i.J THE ALCHEMIST. 235 2d Nei. And nightly, too. 3d Nei. Ay, some as brave as lords, 4th Nei. Ladies and gentlewomen. ^th Nei. Citizens' wives. ist Nei. And knights. 6th Nei. In coaches. 2d Nei. Yes, and oyster women. 1st Nei. Beside other gallants. 10 jd Nei. Sailors' wives. 4tk Nei. Tobacco men. §th Nei. Another Pimlico ^ ! Love. What should my knave advance, To draw this company? He hung out no banners Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen. Or a huge lobster with six claws ? 6th Nei. No, sir. jd Nei. We had gone in then, sir. Love. He has no gift 20 Of teaching in the nose that e'er I knew of. You saw no bills set up that promised cure Of agues, or the tooth-ache? 2d Nei. No such thing, sir. Love. Nor heard a drum struck for baboons or puppets? ^th Nei. Neither, sir. Love. What device should he bring forth now? I love a teeming wit as I love my nourishment ; 'Pray God he have not kept such open house That he hath sold my hangings and my bedding ! 3c I left him nothing else. If he have eat them, A plague o' the moth, say I ! Sure he has got Some tempting pictures to call all this ging ^ ! 1 A resort near Hogsden, noted for its cakes and ale. 2 Gang. 236 THE ALCHEMIST. I act v Or't may be he has the fleas that run at tilt Upon a table, or some dog to dance. When saw you him ? 1st Net. Who, sir, Jeremy? 2d Net. Jeremy Butler? We saw him not this month. Love. How ! 4 c 4th Nei. Not these five weeks, sir. 6ih Nei. These six weeks at the least. Love. You amaze me, neighbours ! ^th Nei. Sure, if your worship know not where he is He's slipped away. 6th Nei. Pray God, he be not made away. Love. Ha ! it's no time to question, then. [Knocks at the door. 6th Nei. About Some three weeks since, I heard a doleful cry, As I sat up a-mending my wife's stockings. 50 Love. 'Tis strange that none will answer ! Didst thou hear A cry, say' St thou ? 6th Nei. Yes, sir, like unto a man That had been strangled an hour, and could not speak. 2d Nei. I heard it too, just this day three weeks, at two o'clock Next morning. Lo7'e. These be miracles, or you make them so. A man an hour strangled, and could not speak, And both you heard him cry? jd Nei. Yes, downward, sir. 60 Love.. Thou art a wise fellow. Give me thy hand, I pray thee, What trade art thou on? SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 237 3d Net. A smith, an't please your worship, Lmie. A smith ! then lend me thy help to get this door open. jd Net. That I will presently, sir, but fetch my tools. \_Exit. 1st Net. Sir, best to knock again, afore you break it. Love, {knocks again). I will. Enter Face, in his butler's livery. Face. What mean you, sir ? 1st, 2d, 4th Nei. Oh, here's Jeremy ! Face. Good sir, come from the door. 70 Love. Why, what's the matter? Face. Yet farther, you are too near yet. Love. In the name of wonder, What means the fellow ! Face. The house, sir, has been visited. Love. What, with the plague ? stand thou then farther. Face. No, sir, I had it not. Love. Who had it then ? I left None else but thee in the house. 80 Face. Yes, sir, my fellow. The cat that kept the buttery, had it on her A week before I spied it ; but I got her Conveyed away in the night : and so I shut The house up for a month Love. How ! Face. Purposing then, sir. To have burnt rose-vinegar, treacle, and tar, And have made it sweet, that you should ne'er have known it ; Because I knew the news would but afflict you, sir. 90 238 THE ALCHEMIST. [act v. Love. Breathe less, and farther off ! Why this is stranger : The neighbours tell me all here that the doors Have still been open Face. How, sir ! Love. Gallants, men and women. And of all sorts, tag-rag, been seen to flock here In threaves,' these ten weeks, as to a second Hogsden, In days of Pimlico and Eyebright.^ Face. Sir, Their wisdoms will not say so. 100 Love. To-day they speak Of coaches and gallants ; one in a French hood Went in, they tell me ; and another was seen In a velvet gown at the window : divers more Pass in and out. Face. They did pass through the doors then. Or walls, I assure their eyesights, and their spectacles ; For here, sir, are the keys, and here have been, In this my pocket, now above twenty days : And for before, I kept the fort alone there. no But that 'tis yet not deep in the afternoon, 1 should believe my neighbours had seen double Through the black pot, and made these apparitions ! For, on my faith to your worship, for these three weeks And upwards the door has not been opened. Love. Strange ! isi Net. Good faith, I think I saw a coach. 1 Droves ; so Jonson in The Sad Shepherd: " They come in threaves, to frolic with him "; so also Chapman, Gent. Usher, Act ii, i. But Skeat says that the word means " a number of sheaves of wheat, generally twelve or twenty-four." 2 Perhaps a cant term for a kind of malt liquor then popular. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 239 2d Nei. And I too, I'd have been sworn. Love. Do you but think it now? 120 And but one coach ? 4th Nei. We cannot tell, sir : Jeremy Is a very honest fellow. Face. Did you see me at all? 1st Nei. No ; that we are sure on. 2d Nei. I'll be sworn o' that. Love. Fine rogues to have your testimonies built on . Re-enter Third Neighbour, with his Tools. jd Nei. Is Jeremy come ? ist Nei. Oh, yes; you may leave your tools. We were deceived, he says. 13c 2d Nei. He has had the keys ; And the door has been shut these three weeks. 3d Nei. Like enough. Love. Peace and get hence, you changelings.' Enter Surly and Mammon. Face {aside). Surly come ! And Mammon made acquainted ! They'll tell all. How shall I beat them off? what shall I do? Nothing's more wretched than a guilty conscience.* Siir. No, sir, he was a great physician. This, It was no evil house, but a mere chancel ! 140 You knew the lord and his sister. Mam. Nay, good Surly Sur. The happy word, Be rich Mam. Play not the tyrant 1 Quoted from Plautus. 240 THE ALCHEMIST. [act V Sur. Should be to-day pronounced to all your friends. And where be your andirons now? and your brass pots, That should have been golden flagons, and great wedges? Mavi. Let me but breathe. What, they have shut their doors, Methinks ! Sur. Ay, now 'tis holiday with them. Mam. Rogues, [He and Surly knock. 150 Cozeners, rascals, cheats ! Face. What mean you, sir ! Mam. To enter if we can. Face. Another man's house ! Here is the owner, sir ; turn you to him, And speak your business. Matn. Are you, sir, the owner? Love. Yes, sir. Mam. And are those knaves within, your cheaters ! Love. What knaves, what cheaters ? 160 Mam. Subtle and his Lungs. Face. The gentleman is distracted, sir ! No lungs, Nor lights have been seen here these three weeks, sir. Within these doors, upon my word. Sur. Your word, Groom arrogant ! Face. Yes, sir, I am the housekeeper. And know the keys have not been out of my hands. Stir. This is a new Face. Face. You do mistake the house, sir : 17c What sign was't at? Sur. You rascal ! this is one Of the confederacy. Come, let's get officers, And force the door. SCENE I.] THE ALCHEMIST. 24I Love. Pray you, stay, gentlemen. Sur. No, sir, we'll come with warrant. Matn. Ay, and then We shall have your doors open. \_Exeunt Mam. arid SuR. Love. What means this? Face. I cannot tell, sir. 180 jst Net. These are two of the gallants That we do think we saw. Face. Two of the fools ! You talk as idly as they. Good faith, sir, I think the moon has crazed 'em all.^ Oh, me ! Enter Kastril. {Aside) The angry boy come too ! He'll make a noise. And ne'er away till he have betrayed us all. Kas. {knocking) . What rogues, cheats, slaves, you'll open the door anon ! What, cockatrice, my suster ! But this light I'll fetch the marshal to you. You are a toad 190 To keep your castle Face. Who would you speak with, sir? Kas. The dirty doctor and the cozening captain, And puss my suster. Love. This is something, sure. Face. Upon my trust, the doors were never open, sir. Kas. I have heard all their tricks told me twice over, By the fat knight and the lean gentleman. Love. Here comes another. Enter Ananias and Tribulation. Face. Ananias too ! 200 1 A very ancient and wide-spread superstition, the origin of the woid lunatic. 242 THE ALCHEMIST. [act v. And his pastor ! 7/7. {beating at the door). The doors are shut against us. Ana. Come forth, you seed of sulphur, sons of fire ! Your stench it is broke forth ; abomination Is in the house. Kas. Ay, my suster's there. Ana. The place, It is become a cage of unclean birds. Kas. Yes, I will fetch the scavenger and the constable. Tri. You shall do well. 210 Ana. We'll join to weed them out. Kas. You will not come, then, cockatrice,' my suster ! Ana. Call her not sister ; she's a harlot, verily. Kas. I'll raise the street. Love. Good gentleman, a word. ' Ana. Satan avoid, and hinder not our zeal ! [^Exeunt Ana., Trie., and Kas. Love. The world's turned Bethlem. Face. These are all broke loose, Out of St. Katherine's, where they use to keep The better sort of mad-folks. 220 jst Net. All these persons We saw go in and out here. 2d Nei. Yes, indeed, sir. 3d Nei. These were the parties. Face. Peace, you drunkards ! Sir, I wonder at it : please you to give me leave To touch the door, I'll try an the lock be changed. Love. It mazes me ! 1 A fabulous serpent, said to come from a cock's egg, and to have wings, legs, and crest like a cock. It was deemed so venomous as to be able to kill with its look. S.une as the basilisk. SCENE i.j THE ALCHEMIST. 243 Face {goes to the door) . Good faith, sir, I believe There's no such thing : 'tis all deceptio visus — 230 (Aside) Would I could get him away. Dap. (jL'ithin). Master Captain ! Master Doctor ! Love. Who's that? Face (^aside) . Our clerk within, that I forgot ! — I know not, sir. Dap. {within). For God's sake, when will her grace be at leisure? Face. Ha ! Illusions, some spirit o' the air ! {Aside) His gag is melted. And now he sets out the throat. Dap. {ivithin) . I am almost stifled Face {aside). Would you were altogether. 240 Love. 'Tis in the house. Ha ! list. Face. Believe it, sir, in the air. I^ove. Peace, you. Dap. {within). Mine aunt's grace does not use me well. Sub. {within). You fool. Peace, you'll mar all. Face {speaks through the key-hole, while Lovewit ad- vances unobserved to the door) . Or you will else, you rogue. Lo7>e. Oh, is it so ? Then you converse with spirits ! Come, sir. No more of your tricks, good Jeremy, The truth, the shortest way. 25c Face. Dismiss this rabble, sir, — {Aside) What shall I do ? I. am catched. Love. Good neighbours, I thank you all. You may depart. (^S";!!:. Neigh.) Come, sir. You know that I am an indulgent master, 244 THE ALCHEMIST. [act v. And therefore conceal nothing. What's your medicine, To draw so many several sorts of wild-fowl ? Face. Sir, you were wont to affect mirth and wii. But here's no place to talk on't in the street. Give me but leave to make the best of my fortune, 26c And only pardon me the abuse of your house : It's all I beg. I'll help you to a widow, In recompense, that you shall give me thanks for, Will make you seven years younger, and a rich one. 'Tis but your putting on a Spanish cloak : I have her within. You need not fear the house ; It was not visited. Love. But by me, who came Sooner than you expected. Face. It is true, sir. 27c Pray you, forgive me. Loi>e. Well, let's see your widow. \_Exeunt. Scene II. — A Room in the same. Enter Subtle, leading in Dapper with his eyes bound as before. Sub. How ! have you eaten your gag? Dap. Yes, faith, it crumbled Away in my mouth. Sub. You. have spoiled all, then. D^ip. No! I hope my aunt of Fairy will forgive me. Sub. Your aunt's a gracious lady ; but in troth . You were to blame. Dap. The fume did overcome me, And I did do't to stay my stomach. Pray you u SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 245 So satisfy her grace. Enter Face in his uniform. Here comes the Captain. Face. How now ! Is his mouth down? Sub. Ay, he has spoken ! Face. A plague, I heard him, and you too. He's undone then. I have been fain to say the house is haunted With spirits, to keep churl back. Sub. And hast thou done it? Face. Sure, for this night. Sub. Why, then triumph and sing 20 Of Face so famous, the precious king Of present wits. Face. Did you not hear the coil About the door? Sub. Yes, and I dwindled with it. Face. Show him his aunt, and let him be dispatched ; I'll send her to you. \_Exit Face. Sub. Well, sir, your aunt her grace Will give you audience presently, on my suit. And the captain's word that you did not eat your gag 30 In any contempt of her highness. [ Unbinds his eyes. Dap. Not I, in troth, sir. Enter Dol, like the Queen of Fairy. Sub. Here she is come. Down o' your knees and wriggle : She has a stately presence. (Dapper kneels, and shuffles towards her.) Good ! Yet nearer. And bid, God save you ! Dap. Madam ! Sub. And your aunt. 246 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT V. Dap. And my most gracious aunt, God save your grace. Dol. Nephew, we thought to have been angry with you ; But that sweet face of yours hath turned the tide, 40 And made it flow with joy, that ebb'd of love. Arise, and touch our velvet gown. Sub. The skirts. And kiss 'em. So ! Dol. Let me now stroke that head. Much, nephew, shalt thou win, much shalt thou spend, Much shalt thou give away, much shalt thou lend. Sub. {aside). Ay, much indeed ! Why do you not thank her grace ? Dap. I cannot speak for joy. Sub. See the kind wretch ! 50 Your grace's kinsman right. Dol. Give me the bird. Here is your fly in a purse, about your neck, cousin ; Wear it, and feed it about this day seven-night, On your right wrist Sub. Open a vein with a pin. And let it suck but once a week ; till then You must not look on't. Dol. No : and, kinsman. Bear yourself worthy of the blood you come on. 6c Sub. Her grace would have you eat no more Woolsack pies, Nor Dagger frumety.^ Dol. Nor break his fast In Heaven and Hell.- 1 Frumety was food made of wheat boiled in milk. The Woolsack and Dagger were two taverns of low repute. 3 Two mean alehouses abutting on Westminster Hall. There was a third called Purgatory. SCENE 11.] THE ALCHEMIST. 247 Sub. She's with you everywhere ! Nor play with costomongers at mum-chance,^ trey-trip,^ God-make-you-rich^ (when as your aunt has done it) ; But keep The gallant'st company and the best games Dap. Yes, sir, ^c Sub. Gleek and primero : and what you get, be true to us. Dap. By this hand, I will. Sub. You may bring's a thousand pound Before to-morrow night, if but three thousand Be stirring, an you will. Dap. I swear I will, then. Sub. Your fly will learn you all games. Face {within). Have you done there? Sub. Your grace will command him no more duties? Dol. No ! 8c But come and see me often. I may chance To leave him three or four hundred chests of treasure. And some twelve thousand acres of Fairyland, If he game well and comely with good gamesters. Sub. There's a kind aunt ! Kiss her departing part. But you must sell your forty mark a-year, now. Dap. Ay, sir, I mean. Sub. Or give't away ; plague on't ! Dap. I'll give't mine aunt : I'll go and fetch the writings. \Exit. Sub. 'Tis well — away ! 9c Re-enter Face. Face. Where's Subtle? * A rude game with dice. ' A game with draughts, to win which a trey must be thrown, S A game. 248 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT V. Sub. Here: what news? Face. Drugger is at the door ; go take his suit, And bid him fetch a parson, presently : Say he shall marry the widow. Thou shalt spend A hundred pound by the service ! {Ex. Sub.) Now, Queen Dol, Have you packed up all? Dol. Yes. Face. And how do you like The Lady Pliant ? 100 Dol. A good dull innocent. Re-enter Subtle. Sub. Here's your Hieronymo's cloak and hat. Face. Give me them. Sub. And the ruff too ? Face. Yes ; I'll come to you presently. \^Exit. Sub. Now he is gone about his project, Dol, I told you of, for the widow. Dol. 'Tis direct Against our articles. Sub. Well, we will fit him, wench. no Hast thou gulled her of her jewels or her bracelets? Dol. No ; but I will do't. Sub. Soon at night, my Dolly, When we are shipped, and all our goods aboard, Eastward for Ratcliff ; we will turn our course To Brainford, westward, if thou say'st the word, And take our leaves of this o'er-weening rascal. This peremptory Face. Dol. Content, I'm weary of him. Sub. Thou'st cause, when the slave will run a-wiving, Dol, SCENE II.] THE ALCHEMIST. 249 Against the instrument that was drawn between us. 121 Do I. I'll pluck his bird as bare as I can. Sub. Yes, tell her She must by any means address some present To the cunning man, make him amends for wronging His art with her suspicion ; send a ring Or chain of pearl ; she will be tortured else Extremely in her sleep, say, and have strange things Come to her. Wilt thou ? Dot. Yes. 130 Sub. My fine flitter-mouse,^ My bird o' the night ! we'll revel at the Pigeons,^ When we have all, and may unlock the trunks, And say, this is mine, and thine ; and thine, and mine. \They kiss. Re-enter Face. Face, What now ! a-billing ? Sub. Yes, a little exalted In the good passage of our stock-affairs. Face. Drugger has brought his parson ; take him in, Subtle, And send Nab back again to wash his face. Sub. I will : and shave himself. \_Exit. 140 Face. If you can get him. Dol. You are hot upon it. Face, whate'er it is ! Face. A trick that Dol shall spend ten pound a month by. Re-enter Subtle. Is he gone? Sub. The chaplain waits you in the hall, sir. 1 Bat ; German fiedemtaics. 2 The Three Pigeons : an inn at Brentford ; afterwards kept by the noted actor Lowin, when the Puritans shut up the theatres. 250 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT v. Face. I'll go bestow him. \_Exit. Dol. He'll now marry her, instantly. Sub. He cannot yet, he is not ready. Dear Dol, Cozen her of all thou canst. To deceive him Is no deceit, but justice, that would break 150 Such an inextricable tie as ours was. Dol. Let me alone to fit him. Re-enter Face. Face. Come, my venturers, You have packed up all ? Where be the trunks ? Bring forth. Sub. Here. Face. Let us see them. Where's the money ? Sub. Here, In this. Face. Mammon's ten pound ; eight score before ; The brethren's money this. Drugger's and Dapper's. 160 What paper's that? Dol. The jewel of the waiting-maid's. That stole it from her lady, to know certain Face. If she should have precedence of her mistress ? Dol. Yes. Face. What box is that? Sub. The fish-wives' rings, I think, And the ale-wives' single money.^ Is't not, Dol? Dol. Yes ; and the whistle that the sailor's wife Brought you to know an her husband were witli Ward.^ 170 Face. We'll wet it to-morrow ; and our silver-beakers And tavern cups. Where be the French petticoats. And girdles and hangers ? 1 Money of small value, requiring no change. 2 \ notorious pirate. SCENE ii.J THE ALCHEMIST. 35 1 Sub. Here, in the trunk, And the bolts of lawn. Face. Is Drugger's damask there, And the tobacco ? Sub. Yes. Face. Give me the keys. Dol. Why you the keys? i8c Sub. No matter, Dol ; because We shall not open them before he comes. Face. 'Tis true, you shall not open them, indeed ; Nor have them forth, do you see ? not forth, Dol. Dol. No! Face. No, my smock rampant. The right is, my master Knows all, has pardoned me, and he will keep them ; Doctor, 'tis true — you look — for all your figures : I sent for him indeed.^ Wherefore, good partners, Both he and she be satisfied : for here 19c Determines the indenture tripartite 'Twixt Subtle, Dol, and Face. All I can do Is to help you over the wall, o' the back-side. Or lend you a sheet to save your velvet gown, Dol. Here will be officers presently, bethink you Of some course suddenly to 'scape the dock ^ : For thither you will come else. — {Loud knocking.) — Hark you, thunder. Sub. You are a precious fiend ! Off. {without). Open the door. Face. Dol, I am sorry for thee, i' faith ; but hear'st thou ? It shall go hard but I will place thee somewhere : 201 Thou shalt have my letter to Mistress Amo 1 A characteristic lie. 2 An apartment in Newgate, or Bridewell, prison. 252 THE ALCHEMIST. [ACT V. Dol. Hang you ! Face. Or Madam Csesarean.* Dol. Out upon you, rogue ! Would I had but time to beat thee ! Face. Subtle, Let's know where you set up next ; I will send you A customer now and then, for old acquaintance : What new course have you ? 210 Sub. Rogue, I'll hang myself. That I may walk a greater devil than thou, And haunt thee in the flock-bed and the buttery. \_Exeunt. Scene III. — A71 outer Room in the same. Enter Lovewit in the Spanish dress, with the Parson. S^Loud knocking at the door.'\ Love. What do you mean, my masters? Mam. {without). Open your door. Cheaters, thieves, conjurors. Off. {without) . Or we will break it open. Love. What warrant have you? Off. {without). Warrant enough, sir, doubt not, If you'll not open it. Love. Is there an officer, there ? Off. {without). Yes, two or three for failing.^ Love. Have but patience, ic And I will open it straight. Enter Face as butler. Face. Sir, have you done ? 1 The nicknames of two notorious women. 2 Por fear of failing. SCENE HI.] THE ALCHEMIST. 253 Is it a marriage? perfect? Love. Yes, my brain. Face. Off with your ruff and cloak then ; be yourself, sir. Sur. {without) . Down with the door. Kas. {without) . 'Slight, ding ^ it open. Love, {opening the door). Hold, Hold, gentleman, what means this violence ? Mammon, Surly, Kastril, Ananias, Tribulation, and Officers rush in. Mam. Where is this collier? 20 Sur. And my Captain Face ? Mam. These day owls. Sur. That are birding ^ in men's purses. Mam. Madam Suppository. Kas. Doxy, my suster. Ana. Locusts Of the foul pit. Tri. Profane as Bel and the Dragon. Ana. Worse than the grasshoppers or the lice of Egypt. Love. Good gentlemen, hear me. Are you officers, 30 And cannot stay this violence ? ist Off. Keep the peace. Love. Gentlemen, what is the matter ? Whom do you seek ? Mam. The chemical cozener. Sur. And the captain pander. Kas. The nun, my suster. Mam. Madam Rabbi Ana. Scorpions And caterpillars. Love. Fewer at once, I pray you. 4° 1 Break ; still common in Scotland. 2 Pilfering. 254 THE ALCHEMIST. [act v. 2d Off. One after another, gentlemen, I charge you. By virtue of my staff. Ana. They are the vessels Of pride, lust, and the cart.' Love. Good zeal, lie still A little while. Tri. Peace, Deacon Ananias. Love. The house is mine here, and the doors are open : If there be any such persons as you seek for. Use your authority, search on, o' God's name. 50 I am but newly come to town, and finding This tumult 'bout my door, to tell you true, It somewhat mazed me ; till my man here, fearing My more displeasure, told me he had done Somewhat an insolent part, let out my house (Belike, presuming on my known aversion From any air o' the town while there was sickness) To a doctor and a captain : who, what they are, Or where they be, he knows not. Mam. Are they gone? 60 Love. You may go in and search, sir. (Mammon, Ana. and Trie, go in.) Here, I find The empty walls worse than I left them, smoked, A few cracked pots and glasses, and a furnace : The ceihng filled with poesies of the candle. And madam with a dildo^ writ o' the walls : Only one gentlewoman, I met here. That is within, that said she was a widow Kas. Ay, that's my suster : I'll go thump her. Where is she? [^Goes in. 1 Han