The Alchemist
be a knight.”Face Sir, I’ll go look
A little, how it heightens.Exit. Sir Epicure Mammon Do.—My shirts
I’ll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft and light
As cobwebs; and for all my other raiment,
It shall be such as might provoke the Persian,
Were he to teach the world riot anew.
My gloves of fishes’ and birds’ skins, perfumed
With gums of paradise, and eastern air—Pertinax Surly And do you think to have the stone with this?
Sir Epicure Mammon No, I do think t’ have all this with the stone.
Pertinax Surly Why, I have heard he must be homo frugi,
A pious, holy, and religious man,
One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.Sir Epicure Mammon That makes it, sir; he is so: but I buy it;
My venture brings it me. He, honest wretch,
A notable, superstitious, good soul,
Has worn his knees bare, and his slippers bald,
With prayer and fasting for it: and, sir, let him
Do it alone, for me, still. Here he comes.
Not a profane word afore him: ’tis poison.—Enter Subtle. Good morrow, Father.
Subtle Gentle son, good morrow,
And to your friend there. What is he, is with you?Sir Epicure Mammon An heretic, that I did bring along,
In hope, sir, to convert him.Subtle Son, I doubt
You are covetous, that thus you meet your time
In the just point: prevent your day at morning.
This argues something, worthy of a fear
Of importune and carnal appetite.
Take heed you do not cause the blessing leave you,
With your ungoverned haste. I should be sorry
To see my labours, now even at perfection,
Got by long watching and large patience,
Not prosper where my love and zeal hath placed them.
Which (heaven I call to witness, with yourself,
To whom I have poured my thoughts) in all my ends,
Have looked no way, but unto public good,
To pious uses, and dear charity
Now grown a prodigy with men. Wherein
If you, my son, should now prevaricate,
And, to your own particular lusts employ
So great and catholic a bliss, be sure
A curse will follow, yea, and overtake
Your subtle and most secret ways.Sir Epicure Mammon I know, sir;
You shall not need to fear me; I but come,
To have you confute this gentleman.Pertinax Surly Who is,
Indeed, sir, somewhat costive of belief
Toward your stone; would not be gulled.Subtle 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.
Subtle Look well to the register.
And let your heat still lessen by degrees,
To the aludels.Face Within. Yes, sir.
Subtle Did you look
On the bolt’s head yet?Face Within. Which? On D, sir?
Subtle Ay;
What’s the complexion?Face Within. Whitish.
Subtle Infuse vinegar,
To draw his volatile substance and his tincture:
And let the water in glass E be filtered,
And put into the gripe’s egg. Lute him well;
And leave him closed in balneo.Face Within. I will, sir.
Pertinax Surly What a brave language here is! Next to canting.
Subtle 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.Sir Epicure Mammon But ’tis for me?
Subtle What need you?
You have enough in that is perfect.Sir Epicure Mammon O but—
Subtle Why, this is covetise!
Sir Epicure Mammon 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.Re-enter Face. Subtle How now!
Face Sir, please you,
Shall I not change the filter?Subtle Marry, yes;
And bring me the complexion of glass B.Exit Face. Sir Epicure Mammon Have you another?
Subtle Yes, son; were I assured—
Your piety were firm, we would not want
The means to glorify it: but I hope the best.—
I mean to tinct C in sand-heat tomorrow,
And give him imbibition.Sir Epicure Mammon Of white oil?
Subtle No, sir, of red. F is come over the helm too,
I thank my Maker, in St. Mary’s bath,
And shows lac virginis. Blessed be heaven!
I sent you of his faeces there calcined:
Out of that calx, I have won the salt of mercury.Sir Epicure Mammon By pouring on your rectified water?
Subtle Yes, and reverberating in Athanor.
Re-enter Face. How now! What colour says it?
Face The ground black, sir.
Sir Epicure Mammon That’s your crow’s head?
Pertinax Surly Your cockscomb’s, is it not?
Subtle No, ’tis not perfect. Would it were the crow!
That work wants something.Pertinax Surly Aside. O, I looked for this.
The hay’s a pitching.Subtle Are you sure you loosed them
In their own menstrue?Face Yes, sir, and then married them,
And put them in a bolt’s head nipped to digestion,
According as you bade me, when I set
The liquor of Mars to circulation
In the same heat.Subtle The process then was right.
Face Yes, by the token, sir, the retort brake,
And what was saved was put into the pelican,
And signed with Hermes’ seal.Subtle I think ’twas so.
We should have a new amalgama.Pertinax Surly Aside. O, this ferret
Is rank as any polecat.Subtle 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.Sir Epicure Mammon He says right.
Pertinax Surly 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?Sir Epicure Mammon Is’t no more?
Face No more, sir.
Of gold, t’amalgam with some six of mercury.Sir Epicure Mammon Away, here’s money. What will serve?
Face Ask him, sir.
Sir Epicure Mammon How much?
Subtle Give him nine pound:—you may give him ten.
Pertinax Surly Yes, twenty, and be cozened, do.
Sir Epicure Mammon There ’tis.
Gives Face the money.Subtle This needs not; but that you will have it so,
To see conclusions of all: for two
Of our inferior works