SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 129 | Next

Jonson, Ben, 1573-1637

"The Alchemist"


Be lighter, and I will make your pockets so.
[ATTEMPTS TO PICK THEM.]
SUR [THROWS OPEN HIS CLOAK]. Will you, don bawd and
pickpurse?
[STRIKES HIM DOWN.]
how now! reel you?
Stand up, sir, you shall find, since I am so heavy,
I'll give you equal weight.
SUB. Help! murder!
SUR. No, sir,
There's no such thing intended: a good cart,
And a clean whip shall ease you of that fear.
I am the Spanish don "that should be cozen'd,
Do you see, cozen'd?" Where's your Captain Face,
That parcel broker, and whole-bawd, all rascal!
[ENTER FACE, IN HIS UNIFORM.]
FACE. How, Surly!
SUR. O, make your approach, good captain.
I have found from whence your copper rings and spoons
Come, now, wherewith you cheat abroad in taverns.
'Twas here you learned t' anoint your boot with brimstone,
Then rub men's gold on't for a kind of touch,
And say 'twas naught, when you had changed the colour,
That you might have't for nothing. And this doctor,
Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he
Will close you so much gold, in a bolt's-head,
And, on a turn, convey in the stead another
With sublimed mercury, that shall burst in the heat,
And fly out all in fumo! Then weeps Mammon;
Then swoons his worship.
[FACE SLIPS OUT.]
Or, he is the Faustus,
That casteth figures and can conjure, cures
Plagues, piles, and pox, by the ephemerides,
And holds intelligence with all the bawds
And midwives of three shires: while you send in --
Captain! -- what! is he gone? -- damsels with child,
Wives that are barren, or the waiting-maid
With the green sickness.


Pages:
117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141