The Alchemist, Ben Jonson [best short novels TXT] 📗

sir, go. Sir Epicure Mammon

Shall not advance thee better: no, nor faster.

Exit. Re-enter Subtle and Dol. Subtle

Has he bit? Has he bit?

Face

And swallowed, too, my Subtle.
I have given him line, and now he plays, i’faith.

Subtle

And shall we twitch him?

Face

Thorough both the gills.
A wench is a rare bait, with which a man
No sooner’s taken, but he straight firks mad.

Subtle

Dol, my Lord What’ts’hums sister, you must now
Bear yourself statelich.

Dol Common

O let me alone.
I’ll not forget my race, I warrant you.
I’ll keep my distance, laugh and talk aloud;
Have all the tricks of a proud scurvy lady,
And be as rude as her woman.

Face

Well said, sanguine!

Subtle

But will he send his andirons?

Face

His jack too,
And’s iron shoeing-horn; I have spoke to him. Well,
I must not lose my wary gamester yonder.

Subtle

O Monsieur Caution, that will not be gulled?

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.

Subtle

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 Common

I know him not: he looks like a gold-endman.

Subtle

Ods so! ’Tis he, he said he would send what call you him?
The sanctified elder, that should deal
For Mammon’s jack and andirons. Let him in.
Stay, help me off, first, with my gown.

Exit Face with the gown.

Away,
Madam, to your withdrawing chamber.

Exit Dol.

Now,
In a new tune, new gesture, but old language.⁠—
This fellow is sent from one 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!

Subtle

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

Face

Yes, sir.
And save the ground?

Subtle

No: Terra damnata
Must not have entrance in the work.⁠—Who are you?

Ananias

A faithful brother, if it please you.

Subtle

What’s that?
A Lullianist? A Ripley? Filius artis?
Can you sublime and dulcify? Calcine?
Know you the sapor pontic? Sapor stiptic?
Or what is homogene, or heterogene?

Ananias

I understand no heathen language, truly.

Subtle

Heathen! You Knipper-doling? Is Ars sacra,
Or chrysopoeia, or spagyrica,
Or the pamphysic, or panarchic knowledge,
A heathen language?

Ananias

Heathen Greek, I take it.

Subtle

How! Heathen Greek?

Ananias

All’s heathen but the Hebrew.

Subtle

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

Face

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

Subtle

This is heathen Greek to you, now!⁠—
And when comes vivification?

Face

After mortification.

Subtle

What’s cohobation?

Face

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

Subtle

What’s the proper passion of metals?

Face

Malleation.

Subtle

What’s your ultimum supplicium auri?

Face

Antimonium.

Subtle

This is heathen Greek to you!⁠—And what’s your mercury?

Face

A very fugitive, he will be gone, sir.

Subtle

How know you him?

Face

By his viscosity,
His oleosity, and his suscitability.

Subtle

How do you sublime him?

Face

With the calce of eggshells,
White marble, talc.

Subtle

Your magisterium now,
What’s that?

Face

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

Subtle

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

Face

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

Subtle

Enough.

Exit Face.

This is heathen Greek to you! What are you, sir?

Ananias

Please you, a servant of the exiled Brethren,
That deal with widows’ and with orphans’ goods,
And make a just account unto the Saints:
A Deacon.

Subtle

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

Ananias

From Tribulation Wholesome,
Our very zealous pastor.

Subtle

Good! I have
Some orphans’ goods to come here.

Ananias

Of what kind, sir?

Subtle

Pewter and brass, andirons and kitchenware,
Metals, that we must use our medicine on:
Wherein the Brethren may have a pennyworth
For ready money.

Ananias

Were the orphans’ parents
Sincere professors?

Subtle

Why do you ask?

Ananias

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

Subtle

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

Ananias

No, surely.

Subtle

No! How so?

Ananias

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

Subtle

How!

Ananias

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.

Subtle

What’s your name?

Ananias

My name is Ananias.

Subtle

Out, the varlet
That cozened 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 whatnot. Thou wretch!
Both sericon and bufo shall be lost,
Tell them. All hope of rooting out the Bishops,
Or the antichristian hierarchy, shall perish,
If they stay threescore minutes: the aqueity,
Terreity, and sulphureity
Shall run together again, and all be annulled,
Thou wicked Ananias!

Exit Ananias.

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

Re-enter Face, in his uniform, followed by Drugger. Face

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

Subtle

How now! What mates, what Baiards have we here?

Face

I told you,