SUR [ASIDE]. O, this ferret
Is rank as any pole-cat.
SUB. But I care not:
Let him e'en die; we have enough beside,
In embrion. H has his white shirt on?
FACE. Yes, sir,
He's ripe for inceration, he stands warm,
In his ash-fire. I would not you should let
Any die now, if I might counsel, sir,
For luck's sake to the rest: it is not good.
MAM. He says right.
SUR [ASIDE]. Ay, are you bolted?
FACE. Nay, I know't, sir,
I have seen the ill fortune. What is some three ounces
Of fresh materials?
MAM. Is't no more?
FACE. No more, sir.
Of gold, t'amalgame with some six of mercury.
MAM. Away, here's money. What will serve?
FACE. Ask him, sir.
MAM. How much?
SUB. Give him nine pound: -- you may give him ten.
SUR. Yes, twenty, and be cozen'd, do.
MAM. There 'tis.
[GIVES FACE THE MONEY.]
SUB. This needs not; but that you will have it so,
To see conclusions of all: for two
Of our inferior works are at fixation,
A third is in ascension. Go your ways.
Have you set the oil of luna in kemia?
FACE. Yes, sir.
SUB. And the philosopher's vinegar?
FACE. Ay.
[EXIT.]
SUR. We shall have a sallad!
MAM. When do you make projection?
SUB. Son, be not hasty, I exalt our med'cine,
By hanging him in balneo vaporoso,
And giving him solution; then congeal him;
And then dissolve him; then again congeal him;
For look, how oft I iterate the work,
So many times I add unto his virtue.
As, if at first one ounce convert a hundred,
After his second loose, he'll turn a thousand;
His third solution, ten; his fourth, a hundred:
After his fifth, a thousand thousand ounces
Of any imperfect metal, into pure
Silver or gold, in all examinations,
As good as any of the natural mine.
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