seem so:

man.

see !

Volt. How?

Had betray'd all; but now it is recover'd: Polp. Sir, to try

All's o'the hinge again- -say, I am living. If you were firm, and how you stood affected. Mos. What busy knave is this, most reverend Polt. Art sure he lives ?

fathers! Volp. Do I live, sir?

I sooner had attended your grave pleasures, Volt. O me!

But that my order for the funeral I was too violent.

Of my dead patron did require meVolp. Sir, you may redeem it.

Volp. Mosca ! They said you were possest; fall down, and Mlos. Whom I intend to bury like a gentle.

(VOLTORE falls. I'll help to make it good. God bless the man! Volp. Ay, quick, and cozen me of all. (Stop your wind hard, and swell) see, see, see, 2 Āvoc. Still stranger !

More intricate ! He vomits crooked pins! his eyes are set,

1 Avoc. And come about again ! . Like a dead hare's hung in a poulterer's shop! 4 Avoc. It is a match, my daughter is bestow'd. His mouth's running away! do you see, signior? Mos. Will you gi' me half? Now 'tis in his belly.

Volp. First, I'll be hang'd. Coro. Ay, the devil !

Mos. I know,

[Aside. Volp. Now in his throat.

Your voice is good, cry not so loudCoro. Ay, I perceive it plain.

I Avoc. Demand
Volp. 'Twill out, 'twill out; stand clear. See The advocate. Sir, did not you affirm
where it flies !

Volpone was alive?
In shape of a blue toad, with bats wings ! Volp. Yes, and he is ;
Do not you see it, sir ?

This gentleman told me so.— -Thou shalt have Corb. What? I think I do.

half. Corp. 'Tis too manifest.

Mos. Whose drunkard is this same? speak Volp. Look, he comes t' himself!

some that know him : volt. Where am I?

I never saw his face. I cannot now
Volp. Take good heart, the worst is past, sir. Afford it you so cheap.
You are dispossest.

Volp. No? 1 Avoc. What accident is this?

1 Avoc. What say you ? 2 Aroc. Sudden, and full of wonder!

Volt. The officer told me. 3 Aroc. If he were

Volp. I did, grave fathers, Possest, as it appears, all this is nothing. And will maintain he lives, with mine own life,

Corv. He has been often subject to these fits. And that this creature told me. I was born 1 Atoc. Shew him that writing; do

you

know With all good stars my enemies ! it, sir?

Mos. Most grave fathers,
Volp. Deny it, sir, forswear it, know it not. If such an insolence as this must pass

Volt. Yes, I do know it well, it is my hand : Upon me, I am silent: 'Twas not this,
But all that it contains is false.

For which you sent, I hope. Bon. O practice!

2 Avoc. Take him away. 2 Aroc. What maze is this !

Volp. Mosca ! 1 Adoc. Is he not guilty then,

3 Avoc. Let him be whipp’d. Whom you there name the parasite?

Volp. Wilt thou betray me! cozen me? Volt. Grave fathers !

3 Avoc. And taught to bear himself No more than his good patron, old Volpone. Toward a person of his rank. 4 Avoc. Why, he is dead?

4 Avoc. Away! Volt. O no, my honour'd fathers,

Mos. I humbly thank your fatherhoods. He lives

Volp. Soft, soft:-whipp?d? 1 Avoc. How! lives?

And lose all that I have? If I confess, Volt. Lives.

It cannot be much more. 2 Adoc. This is subtler yet!

4 Avoc. Sir, are you married? 3 Atoc. You said he was dead ?

Volp. They'll be allied, anon; I must be reVolt. Never.

solute : 3 Avoc. You said so,

The fox shall here uncase. Coro. I heard so.

Mos. Patron ! 4 Aroc. Here comes the gentleman, make him Volp. Nay, now,

My ruin shall not come alone: your match 3 Avoc. A stool.

(He puts off his disguise 4 Avoc. A proper man! and, were Volpone I'll hinder sure: my substance shall not glew dead,

you, A fit match for my daughter.

Nor screw you into a family. 3 Adoc. Give him way.

Mos, Why, patron? Polp. Mosca, I was almost lost, the advocate Volp. I am Volpone, and this is my knave; VOL. III.

E

way.

This, his own knave ; this avarice's fool; And, since the most was gotten by imposture, This a chimera, of wittol, fool, and knave: By feigning lame, gout, palsy, and such diseases, And, reverend fathers, since we all can hope Thou art to lie in prison, crampt with irons, Nought but a sentence, let's not now despair it. 'Till thou be’st sick and lame indeed.—Remove You hear me brief.

him ! Corv. May it please your fatherhoods !

Volp. This is call’d mortifying of a fox. Com. Silence.

| Avoc. Thou Voltore, to take away the scan1 Avoc. The knot is now undone, by miracle!

dal 2 Avoc. Nothing can be more clear.

Thou hast giv'n all worthy men of thy profession, 3 dvoc. Or can more prove these innocent. Art banish'd from their fellowship, and our state. 1 Avoc. Give 'em their liberty.

Corbaccio, bring him near.

We here possess Bon. Heav'n could not long let such gross Thy son of all thy state; and confine thee crimes be hid.

To the monastery of San' Spirito: 2 Avoc. If this be held the highway to get Where, since thou knew'st not how to live well riches,

here, May I be poor:

Thou shalt be learn'd to die well. 3 Avoc. This's not the gain, but torment. Corb. Ha, what said he ? 1 Aroc. These possess wealth, as sick men

Com. You shall know anon, sir. possess fevers,

1 Avoc. Thou Corvino, shalt Which trulier may be said to possess them. Be straight embark'd from thine own house, and 2 Avoc. Disrobe that parasite.

row'd Corv. Mos. Most honour'd fathers !

Round about Venice, through the grand canal, 1 Avoc. Can you plead aught to stay the Wearing a cap, with fair long ass's ears course of justice ?

Instead of horns; and so to mount, a paper If you can, speak.

Pinn'd on thy breast, to the BerlinoCorv. Voli. We beg favour.

Coro. Yes, Cel. And mercy.

And have mine eyes beat out with stinking fish, 1 Avoc. You hurt your innocence, suing for Bruis’d fruit, and rotten eggs—'Tis well. I'm the guilty

glad Stand forth; and first the parasite. You appear I shall not see my shame

yet. T'have been the chiefest minister, if not plotter, 1 Avoc. And to expiate In all these lewd impostures; and now, lastly, Thy wrongs done to thy wife, thou art to send Have, with your impudence, abus'd the court,

her And habit of a gentleman of Venice,

Home to her father, with her dowry trebled: Being a fellow of no birth or blood :

And these are all your judgments.
For which our sentence is, first thou be whipp'd, All. Honoured fathers !
Then live perpetual prisoner in our galleys. 1 Avoc. Which may not be revok’d.-Now

Volt. I thank you for him.
Mos. Bane to thy wolfish nature !

When crimes are done and past, and to be pu1 Avoc. Deliver him to the Saffi. Thou, Vol.

nish’d, pone,

To think what your crimes are: away with them! By blood and rank a gentleman, canst not fall Let all that see these vices thus rewarded, Under like censure; but our judgment on thee Take heart, and love to study 'em. Mischiefs Is, that thy substance all be strait confiscate

feed To the hospital of the Incurabili;

Like beasts, 'till they be fat, and then they bleed.

Ereunt,

you begin,

VOLPONE.
The seas’ning of a play is the applause.
Now, though the fox be punish'd by the laws ;
He yet doth hope there is no sufføring (lue,
For any fact which he hath done 'gainst you ;-
If there be, censure him :-here he doubtful

stands :-
If not, fare jovially, and clap your hands !

ALCHEMIST.

BEN JONSON.

PROLOGUE.

THE ARGUMENT.

The sickness hot, a master quit, for fear,
H is house in town: And left one servant there.
Ease him corrupted, and gave means to know
A cheater, and his punk; who, now brought low,
Leaving the narrow practice, were become
Cos'ners at large; and, only wanting some
House to set up, with him they here contract,
Each for a share, and all begin to act.
Much company they draw, and much abuse,
In casting figures, telling fortunes, news,
Selling of flies, flat bawdry, with the stone:
Till it, and they, and all in fume are gone.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SUBTLE, the Alchemist.
FACE, the Housekeeper.
Sir EPICURE MAMMON, a Knight.
SURLY, a Gamester.
LOVE-WIT, Master of the House.
TRIBULATION, a Pastor of Amsterdam.
ANANIAS, a Deacon there.

ABEL DRUGGER, a Tobacco-mun.
DAPPER, a Clerk.
KASTRIL, the Angry Boy.
DAME PLIANT, Sister to Kastril, a Widow.
DoL COMMON, Colleague with Subtle and Face,

Neighbours, Officers, and Mutes.

SCENE,-London.

ACT I.

you madmen?

Sub. Since, by my means, translated subart). SCENE I.

captain.

Face. By your means, doctor Dog? Enter FACE, SUBTLE, and DoL COMMON.

Sub. Within man's memory, Face. BELIEV'T, I will.

All this I speak of. Sub. Thy worst. I fart at thee.

Face. Why, I pray you, have I Dol. Hal you your wits? Why, gentlemen! Been countenanced by you? or you by me? for love

Do but collect, sir, where I met you first. Face, Sirrah, I'll strip you

Sub. I do not hear well. Sub. What to do? lick figs out at my

Face. Not of this, I think it, Face. Rogue, rogue, out of all your sleights. But I shall put you in mind, sir : at Pye-Corner, Dol. Nay, look ye! Sovereign, general, are Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks' stalls,

Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk Sub. 0, let the wild sheep loose. I'll gum your Piteously costive, with your pinched-horn nose, silks

And your complexion, of the Roman wash, With good strong water, an' you come.

Stuck full of black and melancholic worms, Dol. Will you have

Like powder-corns shot at the artillery yard. The neighbours hear you? will you betray all ? Sub. I wish you could advance your voice a Hark, I hear somebody.

little. Face. Sirrah

Face. When you went pinned up in the seveSub. I shall mar All that the tailor has made, if you approach. You'd raked, and picked from dung-hills, before Face. You most notorious whelp, you insolent

day, slave,

Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes, Dare you do this?

A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloak, Sub. Yes faith, yes faith.

That scarce would cover your no-buttocks, Face. Why! who am I, my mongrel? Who Sub. No, sir !

Face. When all your alchemy, and your alSub, I'll tell you,

gebra, Since you know not yourself

Your minerals, vegetals, and animals, Face. Speak lower, rogue.

Your conj'ring, coz’ning, and your dozen of trades, Sub. Yes. You were once (time's not long Could not relieve your corps with so much linen past) the good,

Would make you tinder, but to see a fire; Honest, plain, livery-three-pound-thrum, that kept | I ga’ you count'nance, credit for your coals, Your master's worship’s house here in the Friars, Your stills, your glasses, your materials, For the vacations

Built you a furnace, drew you customers, Face. Will you be so loud ?

Advanced all your black arts; lent you, beside,

ral rags

am I?

a

ving skill

A house to practise in

Of coz’ning with a hollow cole, dust, scrapings, Sub. Your master's house.

Searching for things lost with a sieve and shears, Face. Where you have studied the more thri- Erecting figures in your rows of houses,

And taking in of shadows with a glass, Of bawdry since.

Told in red letters; and a face cut for thee, Sub. Yes, in your master's house.

Worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's. You and the rats here kept possession.

Dol. Are you sound? Make it not strange. I know you were one could Ha’ you your senses, masters ? keep

Face. I will have The buttry-hatch still locked, and save the chip A book, but barely reckoning thy impostures, pings,

Shall prove a true philosopher's stone to printers. Sell the dole-beer to aqua-vite men,

Sub. Away, you trencher-rascal.
The which, together with your Christmas vails, Face. Out, you dog-leech,
At post and pair, your letting out of counters, The vomit of all prisons.-
Made you a pretty stock, some twenty marks, Dol. Will you be
And gave you credit, to converse with cobwebs, Your own destructions, gentlemen ?
Here, since your mistress's death hath broke up Face. Still spewed out
house.

For lying too heavy o'the basket.
Face. You might talk softlier, rascal.

Sub. Cheater, Sub. No, you scarabe,

Face. Bawd. I'll thunder you in pieces. I will teach you

Sub. Cow-herd. How to beware to tempt a fury again,

Face. Conjurer. That carries tempest in his hand and voice. Sub. Cut-purse. Face. The place has made you valiant.

Face. Witch. Sub. No, your cloaths.

Dol. O me! Thou vermin, have I ta'en thee out of dung, We are ruined ! lost ! ha' you no more regard So poor, so wretched, when no living thing To your reputations ? where's your judgment ? Would keep thee company but a spider, or worse?

S'light, Raised thee from brooms, and dust, and water-Have yet some care of me, o’ your republicing pots?

Face. Away this brach! I'll bring thee, rogue, Sublimed thee, and exalted thee, and fixed thee

within l' the third region, called our state of grace ? The statute of sorcery, tricesimo tertio, Wrought thee to spirit, to quintessence, with pains Of Henry VIII; ay, and perhaps thy neck Would twice have won me the philosopher's work? Within a noose, for laundring gold, and barbing it. Put thee in words and fashion? made thee fit Dol. You'll bring your head within a cock’sFor more than ordinary fellowships?

comb, will you? Given thee thy oaths, thy quarrelling dimensions ? [She catches out FACE's sword, und breaks Thy rules to cheat at horse-race, cock-pit, cards,

Subtle's glass.] Dice, or whatever gallant tincture else?

And

you, sir, with your menstrue, gather it up. Made thee a second in mine own great art? 'Sdeath, you abominable pair of stinkards, And have I this for thank ? do you rebel ? Leave off your barking, and grow one again, Do you fly out i' the projection?

Or, by the light that shines, I'll cut your throats. you be gone now?

I'll not be made a prey unto the marshal, Dol. "Gentlemen, what mean you?

For ne'er a snarling dog-bolt o' you both. Will you mar all ?

Ha' you together cozened all this while, Sub. Slave, thou badst had no name

And all the world, and shall it now be said Dol. Will you undo yourselves with civil war ? | You've made most courteous shift to cozen yourSub. Never been known, past equi clibanum,

selves? The heat of horse-dung under ground, in cellars, You will accuse him? You will bring him in Or an ale-house darker than deaf John's: been within the statute? Who shall take your word ? lost

A whoreson, upstart, apocryphal captain, To all mankind but laundresses and tapsters, Whom not a puritan in Black-friars will trust

So much as for a feather! And you, too, Dol

. Do you know who hears you, sovereign? Will give the cause, forsooth ? You will insult, Face. Sirrah

And claim a primacy in the divisions ? Dol. Nay, general, I thought you were civil- You must be chief? as if you only had Fuce. I shall turn desperate, if you grow thus The powder to project with ? and the work loud.

Were not begun out of equality ? Sub. And hang thyself, I care not.

The venter tripartite ? all things in common? Face. Hang thee, collier,

Without priority? 'Sdeath, you perpetual curs, And all thy pots and pans, in picture I will, Fall to your couples again, and cozen kindly, Since thou hast moved me.

And heartily, and lovingly, as you should, Dol. O, this'll o'erthrow all.

And lose not the beginning of a term, Fuce. Write thee up bawd in Paul's ; have all Or, by this hand, I shall grow factious too, thy tricks

And take my part, and quit you.

Would

:

Had not I been.