Volpone and Other Plays (35 page)

As you would run mad, too, to hear her, sir.

MAMMON
: How might one do t' have conference with her, Lungs?

FACE
: O, divers have run mad upon the conference.

I do not know, sir. I am sent in haste

To fetch a vial.

SURLY
:                Be not gulled, Sir Mammon.

MAMMON
: Wherein? Pray ye, be patient.

SURLY
:                        Yes, as you are,

And trust confederate knaves and bawds and whores.

MAMMON
: You are too foul, believe it. – Come here, Ulen,

One word.

FACE
:        I dare not, in good faith.

250  
MAMMON
:                        Stay, knave!

FACE
: He's extreme angry that you saw her, sir.

MAMMON
: Drink that. [
Gives him money
.] What is she when she's out of her fit?

FACE
: O, 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, bawdry, anything –

MAMMON
: Is she no way accessible? no means,

No trick to give a man a taste of her – wit –

Or so?

SUBTLE
[
within
]: Ulen!

260  
FACE
:             I'll come to you again, sir.

[
Exit
.]

MAMMON
: Surly, I did not think one o' your breeding

Would traduce personages of worth.

SURLY
:                        Sir Epicure,

Your friend to use; yet still loath to be gulled:

I do not like your philosophical bawds.

Their Stone is lechery enough to pay for,

Without this bait.

MAMMON
:                'Heart, you abuse yourself.

I know the lady, and her friends, and means,

The original of this disaster. Her brother

Has told me all.

SURLY
:                    And yet you ne'er saw her

Till now!

270  
MAMMON
: O yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it,

One o' the treacherous'st memories, I do think,

Of all mankind.

SURLY
:                What call you her brother?

MAMMON
:                            My Lord –

He wi' not have his name known, now I think on 't.

SURLY
: A very treacherous memory!

MAMMON
:                        O' my faith –

SURLY
: Tut, if you ha' it not about you, pass it

Till we meet next.

MAMMON
:            Nay, by this hand, 'tis true.

He's one I honour, and my noble friend;

And I respect his house.

SURLY
:                    'Heart! can it be

That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need,

280    A wise sir, too, at other times, should thus,

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
lutum sapientis
,

Your
menstruum simplex!
I'll have gold before you,

And with less
danger of the quicksilver
,

Or the hot sulphur.

[Re-enter
FACE.]

FACE
(To
SURLY
): Here's one from captain face, sir,

Desires you meet him i' the Temple-church,

290    Some half-hour hence, and upon earnest business.

He whispers
MAMMON.

Sir, 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. [
To
SURLY] Sir, shall I say

You'll meet the Captain's worship?

SURLY
:                        Sir, I will. –

[
Aside
] But, by attorney, and to a second purpose.

Now I am sure it is a bawdy-house;

I'll swear it, were the Marshal here to thank me!

The naming this commander doth confirm it.

300    Don Face! Why he's the most authentic dealer

I' these commodities, the superintendent

To all the quainter traffickers in town!

He is their visitor, and does appoint

Who lies with whom, and at what hour, what price,

Which gown, and in what smock, what
fall
, what tire.

Him will I prove, by a third person, to find

The subtleties of this dark labyrinth:

Which if I do discover, dear Sir Mammon,

You'll give your poor friend leave, though no philosopher,

310    To laugh; for you that are, 'tis thought, shall weep.

FACE
: Sir, he does pray you'll not forget.

SURLY
:                        I will not, sir.

Sir Epicure, I shall leave you?

[
Exit
.]

MAMMON
:                I follow you straight.

FACE
: But do so, good sir, to avoid suspicion.

This gent' man has a parlous head.

MAMMON
:                        But wilt thou, Ulen,

Be constant to thy promise?

FACE
:                        As my life, sir.

MAMMON
: And wilt thou insinuate what I am, and praise me,

And say I am a noble fellow?

FACE
:                O, what else, sir?

And that you'll make her royal with the Stone,

An empress; you yourself King of Bantam.

320  
MAMMON
: Wilt thou do this?

FACE
:                        Will I, sir!

MAMMON
:                                Lungs, my Lungs!

I love thee.

FACE
:        Send your stuff, sir, that my master

May busy himself about projection.

MAMMON
: Thou'st witched me, rogue. Take, go.

[Gives
him money
.]

FACE
:                        Your jack, and all, sir.

MAMMON
: Thou art a villain – I will send my jack,

And the weights too. Slave, I could bite thine ear.

Away, thou dost not care for me.

FACE
:                        Not I, sir?

MAMMON
: Come, I was born to make thee, my good weasel;

Set thee on a bench, and ha' thee twirl a chain

With the best lord's vermin of 'em all.

330  
FACE
:                    Away, sir.

MAMMON
: A Count, nay, a Count Palatine –

FACE
: Good sir, go.

MAMMON
: – shall not advance thee better; no, nor faster.

[
Exit
.]

II, iv[
Enter
SUBTLE
and
DOL
.]

[
SUBTLE
:] Has he bit? has he bit?

FACE
:                        And swallowed, too, my Subtle.

I ha' 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's-hum's 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;

10    Have all the tricks of a proud scurvy lady,

And be as rude's her woman.

FACE
:                        Well said,
Sanguine
!

SUBTLE
: But will he send his andirons?

FACE
:                            His
jack
too,

And's iron shoeing-horn. I ha' 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.

One knocks
.

SUBTLE
:                        What, more gudgeons!

Dol, scout, scout!

[
DOL
looks out of the window
.]

                           Stay, Face, you must go to the door.

20      Pray God it be my Anabaptist – Who is 't, Dol?

DOL COMMON
:             I know him not. He looks like a
gold-end-man
.

SUBTLE
: Godso! 'tis he; he said he would send – what call you him?

The sanctifièd elder, that should deal

For Mammon's jack and andirons. Let him in.

Stay, help me off, first, with my gown.

[
Exit
FACE
.]

                                Away,

Madam, to your withdrawing chamber. Now,

[
Exit
DOL
.]

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

30    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
.]

[
SUBTLE
:] Where is my drudge?

[
Re-enter
FACE
.]

FACE
:                        Sir?

SUBTLE
:                        Take away the recipient,

And rectify your menstrue from the
phlegma
.

Then pour it o' the Sol, in the
cucurbite
,

And let 'em 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?

10       Know you the
sapor pontic? sapor stiptic?

Or what is homogene, or heterogene?

ANANIAS
: I understand no heathen language, truly.

SUBTLE
: Heathen! You Knipperdoling! Is
Ars sacra
,

Or
chrysopœia
, 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 i' the language.

20       Name the vexations, and the martyrizations

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.

30    
SUBTLE
: What's the proper passion of metals?

FACE
:  Malleation.

SUBTLE
: What's your
ultimum supplicium auri
?

FACE
:  
Antimonium
.

SUBTLE
: This's heathen Greek to you?–And what's your mercury?

FACE
: A very fugitive, he will be gone, sir.

SUBTLE
: How know you him?