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Jonson, Ben, 1573-1637

"The Alchemist"


KAS [ASIDE]. What is this?
The angry tongue he talks in?
SUB. That false precept,
Of being afore-hand, has deceived a number,
And made them enter quarrels, often-times,
Before they were aware; and afterward,
Against their wills.
KAS. How must I do then, sir?
SUB. I cry this lady mercy: she should first
Have been saluted.
[KISSES HER.]
I do call you lady,
Because you are to be one, ere't be long,
My soft and buxom widow.
KAS. Is she, i'faith?
SUB. Yes, or my art is an egregious liar.
KAS. How know you?
SUB. By inspection on her forehead,
And subtlety of her lip, which must be tasted
Often to make a judgment.
[KISSES HER AGAIN.]
'Slight, she melts
Like a myrobolane: -- here is yet a line,
In rivo frontis, tells me he is no knight.
DAME P. What is he then, sir?
SUB. Let me see your hand.
O, your linea fortunae makes it plain;
And stella here in monte Veneris.
But, most of all, junctura annularis.
He is a soldier, or a man of art, lady,
But shall have some great honour shortly.
DAME P. Brother,
He's a rare man, believe me!
[RE-ENTER FACE, IN HIS UNIFORM.]
KAS. Hold your peace.
Here comes the t'other rare man. -- 'Save you, captain.
FACE. Good master Kastril! Is this your sister?
KAS. Ay, sir.
Please you to kuss her, and be proud to know her.
FACE. I shall be proud to know you, lady.
[KISSES HER.]
DAME P. Brother,
He calls me lady too.
KAS. Ay, peace: I heard it.
[TAKES HER ASIDE.]
FACE.


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