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The Alchemist. Ben Jonson. Oxford Text Archive, Oxford University Computing Services, 13 Banbury Road, Oxford OX2 6NN; [email protected]. Availability:.
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Ben Jonson
iudgement. For they commend Writers, as they doe Fencers, or Wrastlers; who if they come in robustuously, and put for it with a great deale of violence, are receiu'd for the brauer fellowes: when many times their owne rudenesse is the cause of their disgrace, and a little touch of their Aduersary giues all that boisterous force the foyle. I deny not, but that these men, who alwaies seeke to doe more then inough, may some time happen on some thing that is good, and great; but very seldome: And when it comes it doth not recompence the rest of their ill. It sticks out perhaps, and is more eminent, because all is sordide, and vile about it: as lights are more discern'd in a thick darknesse, then a faint shadow. I speake not this, out of a hope to doe good on any man, against his will; for I know, if it were put to the question of theirs, and mine, the worse would finde more suffrages: because the most fauour common errors. But I giue thee this warning, that there is a great difference betweene those, that (to gain the opinion of Copie) vtter all they can, how euer vnfitly; and those that vse election, and a meane. For it is onely the disease of the vnskilfull, to thinke rude things greater then polish'd: or scatter'd more numerous then compos'd.
A Master, read in flatteries great skill, Could not passe truth, though he would force his will, By praising this too much, to get more praise In his Art, then you out of yours doe raise. Nor can full truth be vttered of your worth, Vnlesse you your owne praises doe set forth: None else can write so skilfully, to shew Your praise: Ages shall pay, yet still must owe. All I dare say, is, you haue written well, In what exceeding height, I dare not tell.
George Lucy.
T he Sicknesse hot, A Master quit, for feare, H is House in Towne: and left one Seruant there. E ase him corrupted, and gaue meanes to know
To my friend, Mr. Ben: Ionson. vpon his Alchemist. 2
A Cheater, and his Punque; who now brought low, L eauing their narrow practice, were become C os'ners at large: and, onely wanting some H ouse to set vp, with him they here contract, E ach for a share, and all begin to act. M uch company they draw, and much abuse I n casting Figures, telling Fortunes, Newes, S elling of Flyes, flat Bawdry, with the Stone: T ill It, and They, and All in fume are gone.
FOrtune, that fauours Fooles, these two short howers We wish away; both for your sakes, and ours, Iudging Spectators: and desire in place, To th'Author iustice, to our selues but grace. Our Scene is London, 'cause we would make knowne, No Countries mirth is better then our owne. No Clime breedes better matter, for your Whore, Baud, Squire, Impostor, many Persons more, Whose manners, now call'd Humors, feede the Stage: And which haue still beene Subiect, to the rage Or spleene of Comick writers. Though this Pen Did neuer ayme to grieue, but better Men; How e'er the Age, he liues in, doth endure The vices that she breedes, aboue their cure. But, when the wholsome remedies are sweet, And, in their working, Game, and Profit meete, He hopes to finde no spirit so much diseas'd, But will, with such fayre Correctiues, be pleas'd. For here, he doth not feare, who can apply. If there be any, that will sit so nigh Vnto the streame, to looke what it doth runne, They shall finde things, they'd thinke, or wish, were done; They are so naturall follies: But so showne, As euen the Doers may see, and yet not owne.
Face: Beleeu it I will.
Subtle: I shall marre
Subtle: All that the Taylor has made; if you approach.
Face: You most notorious whelpe, you insolent slaue,
Face: Dare you do this?
Subtle: Yes faith, yes faith.
Face: Why! who
Face: Am I, my Mungrill? Who am I?
Subtle: I will tell you,
Subtle: Since you know not your*selfe.
Face: Speake lower, Rogue.
Subtle: Yes. You were once (time is not long past) the good,
Subtle: Honest, plaine, liuerie three−pound−Thrum; that kept
Subtle:
Your Maisters worships house, here, in the Friers,
Subtle: For the vacations.
Face: Will you be so loud?
Subtle: Since, by my meanes, translated Suburb−Captaine.
Face: By your meanes, Doctor Dog?
Subtle: Within mans memory,
Subtle: All this, I speake of.
Face: Why, I pray you, have I
Face: Been countenanc'd by you? or you, by me?
Face: Do but collect, Sir where I met you first.
Subtle: I do not heare well.
Face: Not of this, I think it.
Face: But I shall put you in minde, Sir at Pie−Corner,
Face: When all your Alchemye, and your Algebra,
Face: Your Mineralls, Vegetalls, and Animalls,
Face: Your Coniuring, Cosning, and your dosen of Trades
Face: Could not relieue your corps, with so much linnen
Face: Would make you tinder, but to see a fire;
Face: I gave you count'nance, credit for your Coales,
Face: Your Stilles, your Glasses, your Materialls,
Face: Built you a Fornace, drew you Customers,
Face: Aduanc'd all your blacke Arts; lent you, beside,
Face: A house to practise in.
Subtle: Your Masters house?
Face: Where you have studied the more thriuing skill
Face: Of Bawdry, since.
Subtle: Yes, in your Masters house.
Subtle: You, and the Rats, here, kept possession.
Subtle: Make it not strange, I know, you were one, could keepe
Subtle: The Buttry−hatch still lock'd, and saue the chippings,
Subtle: Sell the dole−beere to Aqua−vita*e men,
Subtle: The which, together with your Christmasse vailes,
Subtle: At Post, and Paire, your letting out of Counters,
Subtle: Made you a pretty stocke some twenty markes,
Subtle: And gaue you credit, to conuerse with cobwebs,
Subtle: Here, since your Mistresse death hath broke up house.
Face: You might talke softlier, Raskall.
Subtle: No, you Scarabe,
Subtle:
Subtle: Put thee in words, and fashion? made thee fit
Subtle: For more then ordinary fellowships?
Subtle: Giu'n thee thy othes, thy quarrelling dimensions?
Subtle: Thy rules, to cheate at horse−race, cock−pit, cardes,
Subtle: Dice, or what*euer gallant tincture, else?
Subtle: Made thee a Second, in mine owne great Art?
Subtle: And have I this for thanke? Do you rebell?
Subtle: Do you flye out, in the proiection?
Subtle: Would you be gone now?
Dol: Gentlemen, what meane you?
Dol: Will you marre all?
Subtle: Slaue, thou hadst had no Name,
Dol: Will you vndoe your*selues, with ciuill warre?
Subtle: Neuer been knowne, past Equi Clibanum,
Subtle: The heate of horse−dung, vnder ground, in cellars,
Subtle: Or an Ale−house, darker then deafe Iohn's: been lost
Subtle: To all mankinde, but Laundresses, and Tapsters,
Subtle: Had not I been.
Dol: Do you know who heares you, Soueraigne?
Face: Srah −−
Dol: Nay Generall, I thought you were ciuill.
Face: I shall turne desperate, if you grow thus loud.
Subtle: And hang thyselfe, I care not.
Face: Hang thee, Colliar,
Face: And all thy pots, and pans, in picture I will,
Face: Since thou hast mou'd me.
Shall proue a true Philosophers stone, to Printers.
Subtle: Away you Trencher−Raskall.
Face: Out you Dog−leach,
Face: The vomit of all prisons −−
Dol: Will you be
Dol: Your owne destructions, Gentlemen?
Face: Still spew'd out
Face: For lying too heauy on the basket.
Dol: Cheater.
Face: Bawd.
Subtle: Cowherd.
Face: Couniurer.
Subtle: Cutpurse.
Face: Witch.
Dol: O me.
Dol: We are ruin'd lost. Have you no more regard
Dol: To your reputations? Where is your iudgement? Slight,
Dol: Have yet, some care of me, of your Republique.
Face: Away this Brach. I will bring thee Rogue, within
Face: The Statute of Sorcerie, tricesimo tertio
Face: Of Harry the eight: Aye and (perhaps) thy neck
Face: Within a noose, for laundring gold, and barbing.
Dol: You will bring your head within a cocks−combe, will you?
Dol: And you Sir, with your Menstrue, gather it up.
Dol: S'death you abhominable payre of Stinkards
Dol: Leaue off your barking and grow one againe,
Dol: You must be chiefe? as if you, onely, had
Dol: The poulder to proiect with? and the worke
Dol: Were not begunne out of a*equalitie?
Dol: The venter tripartite? All things in common?
Dol: Without prioritie? S'death, you perpetuall Curres,
Dol: Fall to your couples, againe, and cossen kindly,
Dol: And heartily, and louingly, as you should,
Dol: And loose not the beginning of a Terme,
Dol: Or, by this hand, I shall grow factious too
Dol: And, take my part, and quit you.
Face: It is his fault,
Face: He euer murmures, and obiects his paines,
Face:
And sayes, the weight of all lies upon him.
Subtle: Why, so it does.
Dol: How does it? Do not we
Dol: Sustaine our parts?
Subtle: Yes, but they are not a*equall.
Dol: Why, if your part exceede to*day, I hope
Dol: Ours may, to*morrow, match it.
Subtle: Aye, they may.
Dol: May, murmuring Mastiffe, Aye, and do. Gods will!
Dol: Helpe me to thrattell him.
Subtle: Dorothee, Mistresse Dorothee,
Subtle: O'ds precious, I will do any*thing. What do you meane?
Dol: Because of your Fermentation, and Cibation?