ARGUMENT THE sickness hot, a master quit, for fear, A cheater and his punk; who now brought low, PROLOGUE FORTUNE, that favours fools, these two short hours Whose manners, now called humours, feed the stage; They shall find things they'd think or wish were done; They are so natural follies, but so shown As even the doers may see, and yet not own. THE ALCHEMIST ACT I SCENE I.-A ROOM IN LOVEWIT'S HOUSE Enter FACE, in a captain's uniform, with his sword drawn, and SUBTLE with a vial, quarrelling, and followed by DOL COMMON. F ACE. Believe't, I will. Sub. Thy worst. I spit at thee. Dol. Have you your wits? Why, gentlemen, for Face. Sirrah, I'll strip you Sub. What to do? Face. Rogue, rogue !-out of all your sleights. Dol. Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen? With good strong water, an you come. Dol. Will you have The neighbours hear you? will you betray all? Hark! I hear somebody. Face. Sirrah Sub. I shall mar All that the traitor has made, if you approach. Face. You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave, Dare you do this? Sub. Yes, faith; yes, faith. Face. Why, who Am I, my mongrel? Who am I? Sub. I'll tell you, Since you know not yourself. Face. Speak lower, rogue. Sub. Yes, you were once (time's not long past) the good, Honest, plain, livery three pound thrum that kept Your master's worship's house here in the Friars, For the vacations Face. Will you be so loud? Sub. Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain. Sub. Within man's memory, All this I speak of. Face. Why, I pray you, have I Been countenanced by you, or you by me? at Pie-corner, Face. Not of this, I think it Sub. I wish you could advance your voice a little. Face. When you went pinn'd up in the several rags You had raked and pick'd from dunghills, before day; Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes; A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloak Sub. So, sir! Face. When all your alchemy and your algebra, Your conjuring, cozening, and your dozen of trades, I gave you countenance, credit for your coals, Sub. Your master's house! Face. Where you have studied the more thriving skill Of cozening since. Sub. Yes, in your master's house. You and the rats here kept possession. Make it not strange. I know you were one could keep The which, together with your Christmas vails Sub. No, you scarab, I'll thunder you in pieces: I will teach you Thou vermin, have I ta'en thee out of dung, So poor, so wretched, when no living thing Would keep thee company, but a spider, or worse? Giv'n thee thy oaths, thy quarrelling dimensions, Made thee a second in mine own great art? Would you be gone now? Dol. Gentlemen, what mean you? Will you mar all? Sub. Slave, thou hadst had no name Dol. Will you undo yourselves with civil war? Dol. Do you know who hears you, sovereign? Dol. Nay, general, I thought you were civil. Face. I shall turn desperate if you grow thus loud. Sub. And hang thyself, I care not. Face. Hang thee, collier, And all thy pots and pans, in picture, I will, Since thou hast moved me Dol. Oh, this will o'erthrow all. Face. Write thee up bawd in Paul's, have all thy tricks Of cozening with a hollow coal, dust, scrapings, Searching for things lost, with a sieve and shears, Erecting figures in your rows of houses, And taking in of shadows with a glass, Told in red letters; and a face cut for thee Dol. Are you sound? Have you your senses, masters? Face. I will have A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures, Face. Out, you log-leech! Dol. Will you be Your own destructions, gentlemen? For lying too heavy on the basket. Sub. Cheater! Dol. O me! We are ruin'd, lost! Have you no more regard To your reputations? Where's your judgment? 'Slight Face. Away this brach! I'll bring thee, rogue, within Of Harry the Eighth: ay, and perhaps thy neck Within a noose, for laundring gold and barbing it. Dol. [Snatches FACE'S sword.] You'll bring your head within a cockscomb, will you? And you, sir, with your menstrue. [Dashes SUBTLE'S vial out of his hand.] Gather it up. 'Sdeath, you abominable pair of stinkards, Leave off your barking, and grow one again, Or, by the light that shines, I'll cut your throats. Have you together cozen'd all this while, And all the world, and shall it now be said You've made most courteous shift to cozen yourselves? [To FACE Whom not a Puritan in Blackfriars will trust [To SUBTLE |