ay ye, be patient.

SUR. Yes, as you are,
And trust confederate knaves and bawds and whores.

MAM. You are too foul, believe it.--Come here, Ulen,
One word.

FACE. I dare not, in good faith.
[GOING.]

MAM. Stay, knave.

FACE. He is extreme angry that you saw her, sir.

MAM. Drink that.
[GIVES HIM MONEY.]
What is she when she's out of her fit?

FACE. O, the most affablest creature, sir! so merry!
So pleasant! she'll mount you up, like quicksilver,
Over the helm; and circulate like oil,
A very vegetal: discourse of state,
Of mathematics, bawdry, any thing--

MAM. Is she no way accessible? no means,
No trick to give a man a taste of her--wit--
Or so?

SUB [WITHIN]. Ulen!

FACE. I'll come to you again, sir.

[EXIT.]

MAM. Surly, I did not think one of your breeding
Would traduce personages of worth.

SUR. Sir Epicure,
Your friend to use; yet still loth to be gull'd:
I do not like your philosophical bawds.
Their stone is letchery enough to pay for,
Without this bait.

MAM. 'Heart, you abuse yourself.
I know the lady, and her friends, and means,
The original of this disaster. Her brother
Has told me all.

SUR. And yet you never saw her
Till now!

MAM. O yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it,
One of the treacherousest memories, I do think,
Of all mankind.

SUR. What call you her brother?

MAM. My lord--
He will not have his name known, now I think on't.

SUR. A very treacherous memory!

MAM. On my faith--

SUR. Tut, if you have it not about you, pass it,
Till we meet next.

MAM. Nay, by this hand, 'tis true.
He's one I honour, and my noble friend;
And I respect his house.

SUR. Heart! can it be,
That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need,
A wise sir, too, at other times, should thus,
With his own oaths, and arguments, make hard means
To gull himself? An this be your elixir,
Your lapis mineralis, and your lunary,
Give me your honest trick yet at primero,
Or gleek; and take your lutum sapientis,
Your menstruum simplex! I'll have gold before you,
And with less danger of the quicksilver,
Or the hot sulphur.

[RE-ENTER FACE.]

FACE. Here's one from Captain Face, sir,
[TO SURLY.]
Desires you meet him in the Temple-church,
Some half-hour hence, and upon earnest business.
Sir,
[WHISPERS MAMMON.]
if you please to quit us, now; and come
Again withi