Volpone and Other Plays (33 page)

MAMMON
:                    Lungs, I will set a period

To all thy labours; thou shalt be the master

Of my seraglio.

FACE
:                             Good, sir.

MAMMON
:                                  But do you hear?

I'll geld you, Lungs.

FACE
:                                  Yes, sir.

MAMMON
:                                  For I do mean

To have a list of wives and concubines

Equal with Solomon, who had the Stone

Alike with me; and I will make me a back

With the elixir, that shall be as tough

As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night. –

Th' art sure thou saw'st it blood?

40    
FACE
:                                                   Both blood and siprit, sir.

MAMMON
: I will have all my beds blown up, not stuffed.

Down is too hard; and then, mine oval room

Filled with such pictures as Tiberius took

From Elephantis, and dull Aretine

But coldly imitated. Then, my glasses

Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse

And multiply the figures, as I walk

Naked between my
succubae
. My mists

I'll have of perfume, vapoured ' bout the room,

50           To lose our selves in; and my baths, like pits

To fall into, from whence we will come forth,

And roll us dry in gossamer and roses. –

Is it arrived at ruby? – Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or rich lawyer,

Have a sublimed, pure wife, unto that fellow

I'll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.

FACE
: And I shall carry it?

MAMMON
:                                 No, I'll ha' no bawds

But fathers and mothers – they will do it best,

Best of all others. And my flatterers

60           Shall be the pure and gravest of divines

That I can get for money. My mere fools

Eloquent burgesses, and then my poets

The same that writ so subtly of the fart,

Whom I will entertain still for that subject.

The few that would give out themselves to be

Court- and town-stallions and each-where bely

Ladies who are known most innocent, for them,

These will I beg, to make me eunuchs of,

And they shall fan me with ten estrich tails

70       Apiece, made in a plume to gather wind.

We will be brave, Puff, now we ha' the med' cine.

My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells,

Dishes of agate set in gold, and studded

With emeralds, sapphires,
hyacinths
, and rubies.

The tongues of carps, dormice, and camels' heels,

Boiled i' the
spirit of Sol
, and dissolved pearl

(Apicius' diet, ' gainst the epilepsy);

And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,

Headed with diamond and carbuncle.

80       My foot-boy shall eat pheasants,
calvered
salmons,

Knots
, godwits, lampreys. I myself will have

The beards of
barbels
served instead of salads;

Oiled mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps

Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,

Dressed with an exquisite and poignant sauce;

For which, I'll say unto my cook, ‘There's gold;

Go forth, and
be a knight
!'

FACE
:                                   Sir, I'll go look

A little, how it heightens.

   [
Exit
.]

MAMMON
:                           Do. – My shirts

I'll have of
taffeta-sarsnet
, soft and light

90       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 –

SURLY
: And do you think to have the Stone with this?

MAMMON
: No, I do think t' have all this with the Stone.

SURLY
: Why, I have heard he must be
homo frugi
,

A pious, holy, and religious man,

One free from mortal sin, a very virgin.

100  
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 –

II, iii        [
Enter
SUBTLE
.]

MAMMON
: Good morrow, father.

SUBTLE
:                                      Gentle son, good morrow,

And to your friend there. What is he is with you?

MAMMON
: An heretic, that I did bring along,

In hope, sir, to convert him.

SUBTLE
:                                    Son, I doubt

You' re covetous, that thus you meet your time

I' 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,

10         With your ungoverned haste. I should be sorry

To see my labours, now e' en at perfection,

Got by long watching and large patience,

Not prosper where my love and zeal hath placed 'em:

Which (Heaven I call to witness, with your self,

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,

20         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.

MAMMON
:            I know, sir,

You shall not need to fear me. I but come

To ha' you confute this gentleman.

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.

30         We have a med' cine of the triple soul,

The glorified spirit. Thanks be to Heaven,

And make us worthy of it! –

[
Calling to
FACE
.]

                                                               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

O' 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,

40        And put into the gripe's egg. Lute him well;

And leave him closed
in balneo
.

FACE
[
within
]:              I will, sir.

SURLY
[
aside
]: What a brave language here is! next to
canting
!

SUBTLE
: I have another work you never saw, son,

That three days since passed the Philosopher's Wheel,

In the lent heat of Athanor, and 's become

Sulphur o' Nature.

MAMMON
:       But 'tis for me?

SUBTLE
:               What need you?

You have enough in that is perfect.

MAMMON
:             O, but –

SUBTLE
: Why, this is
covetise
!

MAMMON
:           No, I assure you,

I shall employ it all in pious uses,

50         Founding of colleges and grammar schools,

Marrying young virgins, building hospitals,

And, now and then, a church.

[
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
.]

MAMMON
: Ha' 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.

MAMMON
: Of white oil?

60    
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
. Blessèd be heaven!

I sent you of his fæces there calcined;

Out of that calx, I ha' won the salt of mercury.

MAMMON
: By pouring on your rectifièed water?

SUBTLE
: Yes, and reverberating in Athanor.

[
Re-enter
FACE
.]

How now! what colour says it?

FACE
:                           The ground black, sir.

MAMMON
: That's your crow's head?

SURLY
[
aside
]:                               Your cox-comb's, is it not?

SUBTLE
: No, 'tis not perfect. Would it were the crow!

70        That work wants something.

SURLY
[
aside
]:                           O, I looked for this,

The
hay
is a-pitching.

SUBTLE
:                        Are you sure you loosed 'em

I' their own menstrue?

FACE
:                  Yes, sir, and then married 'em,

And put 'em 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 't was so

80      We should have a new amalgama.

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.

MAMMON
: He says right.

SURLY
[
aside
]:                        Ay, are you
bolted
?

FACE
:                                                                   Nay, I know't, sir,

I've seen th' ill fortune. What is some three ounces

Of fresh materials?

MAMMON
:                        Is 't no more?