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Wrapp'd in perplexed allegories ?
Mammon. I urg'd that,
And clear'd to him, that Sisyphus was damn'd
To roll the ceaseless stone, only because
He would have made Ours common. [Dol appears at the door.] -Who is this!
Subtle. 'S precious ! - What do you mean ? go in, good
lady,
Let me entreat you. [Dol retires.] - Where's this varlet ?
[Re-enter Face.]
Face. Sir.
Subtle. You very knave ! do you use me thus ?
Face. Wherein, sir ?
Subtle. Go in and see, you traitor. Go ! [Exit Face.]
Mammon. Who is it, sir ?
Subtle. Nothing, sir; nothing.
Mammon. What's the matter, good sir ?
I have not seen you thus distemper'd: who is't ?
Subtle. All arts have still had, sir, their adversaries;
But ours the most ignorant;
[Re-enter Face.]
What now ?
Face. 'Twas not my fault, sir; she would speak with you.
Subtle. Would she, sir ! Follow me. [Exit.]
Mammon. [stopping him.] Stay, Lungs.
Face. I dare not, sir.
Mammon. Stay, man; what is she ?
Face. A lord's sister, sir.
Mammon. How ! pray thee, stay.
Face. She's mad, sir, and sent hither -
He'll be mad too. -
Mammon. I warrant thee. -
Why sent hither ?
Face. Sir, to be cured.
Subtle. [Within.] Why, rascal !
Face. Lo you! - Here, sir ! [Exit.]
Mammon. 'Fore God, a Bradamante, a brave piece.
Surly. Heart, this is a bawdy-house ! I will be burnt else.
Mammon. O, 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 !
Face. Softly, sir; speak softly. I meant
To have told your worship all. This must not hear.
Mammon. 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.
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 gull'd, 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. [Going.]
Mammon. Stay, knave.
Face. He is 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!...
Subtle. [Within.] Ulen !
Face. I'll come to you again, sir. [Exit.]
Mammon. Surly, I did not think one of your breeding
Would traduce personages of worth.
Surly. Sir Epicure,
Your friend to use; yet still, loth to be gull'd:
I do not like your philosophical bawds.
Their stone is letchery enough to pay for,
Without this bait.
Mammon. 'Heart, you abuse your self.
I know the lady, and her friends, and means,
The original of this disaster. Her brother
Has told me all.
Surly. And yet you never saw her
Till now !
Mammon. O yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it,
One of the treacherousest memories, I do think,
Of all mankind.
Surly. What call you her brother ?
Mammon. My lord -
He will not have his name known, now I think on't.
Surly. A very treacherous memory!
Mammon. On my faith -
Surly. Tut, if you have 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,
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 sapiensis,
Your menstruum simplex ! I'll have gold before you,
And with less danger....
[Re-enter Face.]
Face. Here's one from captain Face, sir, [to Surly.]
Desires you meet him in the Temple-church,
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 ?
Surly. Sir, I will. - [Walks aside.]
But, by attorney, and to a second purpose.
Now, I am sure it is a bawdy-house; [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]