Volpone and Other Plays (31 page)

BOOK: Volpone and Other Plays
3.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

When must he come for his familiar?

DAPPER
: Shall I not ha' it with me?

SUBTLE
:                                                    O, good sir!

There must a world of ceremonies pass;

You must be bathed and fumigated first;

Besides, the Queen of Faery does not rise

Till it be noon.

FACE
:                          Not if she danced
tonight
.

SUBTLE
: And she must bless it.

FACE
:                                       Did you never see

Her Royal Grace yet?

DAPPER
:                          Whom?

FACE
:                                       Your aunt of Faery?

150  
SUBTLE
: Not since she kissed him in the cradle, Captain;

I can resolve you that.

FACE
:                                       Well, see her Grace,

Whate' er it cost you, for a thing that I know!

It will be somewhat hard to compass; but

However, see her. You are made, believe it,

If you can see her. Her Grace is a lone woman,

And very rich, and if she take a fancy,

She will do strange things. See her, at any hand.

'Slid, she may hap to leave you all she has!

It is the Doctor's fear.

DAPPER
:                          How will't be done, then?

160  
FACE
: Let me alone, take you no thought. Do you

But say to me, ' Captain, I'll see her Grace'.

DAPPER
: Captain, I'll see her Grace.

FACE
:                                       Enough.

One knocks without
.

SUBTLE
:                                       Who's there?

Anon! – [
Aside to
FACE
] Conduct him forth by the back way-

Sir, against one o' clock prepare yourself;

Till when, you must be fasting; only, take

Three drops of vinegar in at your nose,

Two at your mouth, and one at either ear;

Then bathe your fingers' ends and wash your eyes,

To sharpen your five senses, and cry ' hum'

170            Thrice, and then ‘buzz' as often; and then come.

[
Exit
.]

FACE
: Can you remember this?

DAPPER
:     I warrant you.

FACE
:Well then, away. 'Tis but your bestowing Some twenty
nobles
‘mong her Grace's servants, And put on a clean shirt. You do not know what grace her Grace may do you in clean linen.

[
Exeunt
FACE
and
DAPPER
.]

I, iii [
SUBTLE
(
within, to other clients
):] Come in! Good wives, I pray you, forbear me now;

Troth, I can do you no good till afternoon. –

[
Enter
SUBTLE
,
followed by
DRUGGER
.]

What is your name, say you? Abel Drugger?

DRUGGER
:                                                  Yes, sir.

SUBTLE
: A seller of tobacco?

DRUGGER
:                                    Yes, sir.

SUBTLE
:                                                      Umph!

Free of the Grocers?

DRUGGER
:                         Ay, an't please you.

SUBTLE
:                                                                   Well –

Your business, Abel?

DRUGGER
:                         This, an't please your worship:

I am a young beginner, and am building

Of a new shop, an't like your worship, just

At corner of a street. (Here's the
plot
on 't.)

10              And I would know by art, sir, of your worship,

Which way I should make my door, by necromancy;

And where my shelves; and which should be for boxes,

And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, sir;

And I was
wished
to your worship by a gentleman,

One Captain Face, that says you know men's planets,

And their good angels, and their bad.

SUBTLE
:                                                                I do,

If I do see 'em –

[
Enter
FACE
.]

FACE
:                           What! my honest Abel?

Thou art well met here.

DRUGGER
:      Troth, sir, I was speaking,

Just as your worship came here, of your worship.

20              I pray you, speak for me to Master Doctor.

FACE
: He shall do anything. Doctor, do you hear?

This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow;

He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not

Sophisticate
it with sack-lees or oil,

Nor washes it in muscadel and
grains

Nor buries it in gravel, under ground,

Wrapped up in greasy leather, or pissed clouts,

But keeps it in fine
lily-pots
that, opened,

Smell like conserve of roses, or French beans.

30              He has his maple block, his silver tongs,

Winchester pipes, and fire of juniper:

A neat, spruce, honest fellow, and no
goldsmith
.

SUBTLE
: He's a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on.

FACE
: Already, sir, ha' you found it? Lo thee, Abel!

SUBTLE
: And in right way toward riches –

FACE
:                                                    Sir!

SUBTLE
:                                                         This summer

He will be of the clothing of his company, And next spring called to the scarlet, spend what he can.

FACE
: What, and so little beard?

SUBTLE
:                       Sir, you must think,

He may have a receipt to make hair come.

40             But he'll be wise – preserve his youth – and
fine
for 't;

His fortune looks for him another way.

FACE
: 'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soon?

I am
amused
at that.

SUBTLE
:     By a rule, Captain,

In
metoposcopy
, which I do work by;
A certain star i' the forehead, which you see not.
Your chestnut or your olive-coloured face
Does never fail, and your long ear doth promise.
I knew 't by certain spots, too, in his teeth,
And on the nail of his Mercurial finger.

50    
FACE
: Which finger's that?

SUBTLE
:      His little finger. Look.

You were born upon a Wednesday?

DRUGGER
:       Yes, indeed, sir.

SUBTLE
: The thumb, in chiromancy, we give Venus;

The forefinger to Jove; the midst to Saturn;
The ring to Sol; the least to Mercury,
Who was the lord, sir, of his horoscope,
His house of life being Libra; which foreshowed
He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance.

FACE
: Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?

SUBTLE
: There is a ship now coming from Ormus,

60             That shall yield him such a commodity

Of drugs – This is the west, and this the south?

[
Looking at the plan
.]

DRUGGER
: Yes, sir.

SUBTLE
:            And those are your two sides?

DRUGGER
:                                                                     Ay, sir.

SUBTLE
: Make me your door then, south; your broad side, west;

And on the east side of your shop, aloft,
Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;
Upon the north part, Rael, Velel, Thiel
They are the names of those Mercurial spirits
That do fright flies from boxes.

DRUGGER
:                                                  Yes, sir.

SUBTLE
:                                                                     And

Beneath your threshold, bury me a
loadstone

70              To draw in gallants that wear spurs. The rest,

They'll seem to follow.

FACE
:                                       That's a secret, Nab!

SUBTLE
: And, on your stall, a puppet, with a vice,

And a
court-fucus
, to call City-dames.

You shall deal much with minerals.

DRUGGER
:                                 Sir, I have,

At home, already –

SUBTLE
:                     Ay, I know, you've arsenic,

Vitriol, sal-tartar, argaile, alkali,

Cinoper: I know all – This fellow, Captain,

Will come, in time, to be a great distiller,

And
give a say
–I will not say directly,

80
              But very fair – at the Philosopher's Stone.

FACE
: Why, how now, Abel! is this true?

DRUGGER
[
aside to
FACE
]:                             Good Captain,

What must I give?

FACE
:                               Nay, I'll not counsel thee.

Thou hear'st what wealth he says (spend what thou canst)

Th' art like to come to.

DRUGGER
:                             I would gi' him a crown.

FACE
: A crown! and toward such a fortune? Heart,

Thou shalt rather gi' him thy shop. No
gold
about thee?

DRUGGER
: Yes, I have a portague, I ha' kept this half-year.

FACE
: Out on thee, Nab! 'Slight, there was such an offer –

Shalt keep 't no longer, I'll gi' it him for thee. Doctor,

90              Nab prays your worship to drink this, and swears

He will appear more grateful, as your skill

Does raise him in the world.

DRUGGER
:                                          I would entreat

Another favour of his worship.

FACE
:                                                      What is't, Nab?

DRUGGER
: But to look over, sir, my almanac,

And cross out my ill-days, that I may neither

Bargain, nor trust upon them.

FACE
:                                                      That he shall, Nab.

Leave it, it shall be done, 'gainst afternoon.

SUBTLE
: And a direction for his shelves.

FACE
:                                                      Now, Nab,

Art thou well pleased, Nab?

DRUGGER
: 'Thank, sir, both your worships.

FACE
:                                                                    Away.

   [
Exit
DRUGGER.]

100          Why, now, you smoky persecutor of nature!

Now do you see, that something's to be done,

Beside your beech-coal, and your
cor'sive
waters,

Your
crosslets
, crucibles, and cucurbites?

You must have stuff brought home to you, to work on!

And yet you think I am at no expense

In searching out these veins, then following 'em,

Then trying 'em out. 'Fore God, my intelligence

Costs me more money than my share oft comes to,

In these rare works.

SUBTLE
:                            You' re pleasant, sir.

   [
Enter
DOL.]

                                                                            – How now!

I, iv     What says my dainty Dolkin?

DOL COMMON
:                                  Yonder fish-wife

Other books

Lily of the Valley by Sarah Daltry
Cheating Time by T. R. Graves
Air Ticket by Susan Barrie
Sunshaker's War by Tom Deitz
Finding You by S. K. Hartley