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in the blood. It may be so,
When as the work is done, the stone is made,
This heat of his may turn into a zeal,
And stand up for the beauteous discipline,
Against the menstruous cloth and rag of Rome.
We must await his calling, and the coming
Of the good spirit. You did fault, t’ upbraid him
With the Brethren’s blessing of Heidelberg, weighing
What need we have to hasten on the work,
For the restoring of the silenced saints,
Which ne’er will be, but by the philosopher’s stone.
And so a learned elder, one of Scotland,
Assured me; aurum potabile being
The only medicine, for the civil magistrate,
T’ incline him to a feeling of the cause;
And must be daily used in the disease. Ananias

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.

Tribulation Wholesome

Let us call on him then.

Ananias

The motion’s good,
And of the spirit; I will knock first.
Knocks.
Peace be within!

The door is opened, and they enter. Scene II

A room in Lovewit’s house.

Enter Subtle, followed by Tribulation and Ananias. Subtle

O, are you come? ’Twas time. Your threescore minutes
Were at last thread, you see: and down had gone
Furnus acediae, turris circulatorius:
Lembec, bolt’s head, retort and pelican
Had all been cinders.⁠—Wicked Ananias!
Art thou returned? Nay then, it goes down yet.

Tribulation Wholesome

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.

Subtle

Why, this doth qualify!

Tribulation Wholesome

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.

Subtle

This qualifies more!

Tribulation Wholesome

And for the orphans’ 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.

Subtle

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)
That even the medicinal use shall make you a faction,
And party in the realm? As, put the case,
That some great man in state, he have the gout,
Why, you but send three drops of your elixir,
You help him straight: there you have made a friend.
Another has the palsy or the dropsy,
He takes of your incombustible stuff,
He’s young again: there you have made a friend,
A lady that is past the feat of body,
Though not of mind, and hath her face decayed
Beyond all cure of paintings, you restore,
With the oil of talc: there you have made a friend;
And all her friends. A lord that is a leper,
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 medicine: still
You increase your friends.

Tribulation Wholesome

Ay, it is very pregnant.

Subtle

And then the turning of this lawyer’s pewter
To plate at Christmas.⁠—

Ananias

Christ-tide, I pray you.

Subtle

Yet, Ananias!

Ananias

I have done.

Subtle

Or changing
His parcel gilt to massy gold. You cannot
But raise you friends. Withal, to be of power
To pay an army in the field, to buy
The King of France out of his realms, or Spain
Out of his Indies. What can you not do
Against lords spiritual or temporal,
That shall oppone you?

Tribulation Wholesome

Verily, ’tis true.
We may be temporal lords ourselves, I take it.

Subtle

You may be anything, and leave off to make
Long-winded exercises; or suck up
Your “ha!” and “hum!” 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.

Ananias

Bells are profane; a tune may be religious.

Subtle

No warning with you! Then farewell my patience.
’Slight, it shall down: I will not be thus tortured.

Tribulation Wholesome

I pray you, sir.

Subtle

All shall perish. I have spoken it.

Tribulation Wholesome

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 toward the stone, we shall not need.

Subtle

No, nor your holy vizard, to win widows
To give you legacies; or make zealous wives
To rob their husbands for the common cause:
Nor take the start of bonds broke but one day,
And say, they were forfeited by providence.
Nor shall you need o’er night 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
May lay their hair out, or wear doublets,
Or have that idol starch about their linen.

Ananias

It is indeed an idol.

Tribulation Wholesome

Mind him not, sir.
I do command thee, spirit of zeal, but trouble,
To peace within him! Pray you, sir, go on.

Subtle

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
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 suchlike, affected
By the whole family or wood of you,
Only for glory, and to catch the ear
Of the disciple.

Tribulation Wholesome

Truly, sir, they are
Ways that the godly Brethren have invented,
For propagation of the glorious cause,
As very notable means, and whereby also
Themselves grow soon, and profitably, famous.

Subtle

O, 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.

Ananias

I hate traditions;
I do not trust them⁠—

Tribulation Wholesome

Peace!

Ananias

They are popish all.
I will not

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