MAM. I know, sir;
You shall not need to fear me; I but come,
To have you confute this gentleman.
SUR. Who is,
Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief
Toward your stone; would not be gull'd.
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,
The glorified spirit. Thanks be to heaven,
And make us worthy of it! -- Ulen Spiegel!
FACE [WITHIN]. Anon, sir.
SUB. Look well to the register.
And let your heat still lessen by degrees,
To the aludels.
FACE [WITHIN]. Yes, sir.
SUB. Did you look
On the bolt's-head yet?
FACE [WITHIN]. Which? on D, sir?
SUB. Ay;
What's the complexion?
FACE [WITHIN]. Whitish.
SUB. Infuse vinegar,
To draw his volatile substance and his tincture:
And let the water in glass E be filter'd,
And put into the gripe's egg. Lute him well;
And leave him closed in balneo.
FACE [WITHIN]. I will, sir.
SUR. What a brave language here is! next to canting.
SUB. I have another work, you never saw, son,
That three days since past 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.
MAM. O but --
SUB. Why, this is covetise!
MAM. No, I assure you,
I shall employ it all in pious uses,
Founding of colleges and grammar schools,
Marrying young virgins, building hospitals,
And now and then a church.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85