SUB. And, on your stall, a puppet, with a vice
And a court-fucus to call city-dames:
You shall deal much with minerals.

DRUG. Sir, I have.
At home, already--

SUB. Ay, I know you have 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,
But very fair--at the philosopher's stone.

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

DRUG [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,)
Thou'rt like to come to.

DRUG. 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?

DRUG. Yes, I have a portague, I have kept this half-year.

FACE. Out on thee, Nab! 'Slight, there was such an offer--
Shalt keep't no longer, I'll give't him for thee. Doctor,
Nab prays your worship to drink this, and swears
He will appear more grateful, as your skill
Does raise him in the world.

DRUG. I would entreat
Another favour of his worship.

FACE. What is't, Nab?

DRUG. But to look over, sir, my almanack,
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.

SUB. And a direction for his shelves.

FACE. Now, Nab,
Art thou well pleased, Nab?

DRUG. 'Thank, sir, both your worships.

FACE. Away.
[EXIT DRUGGER.]
Why, now, you smoaky persecutor of nature!
Now do you see, that something's to be done,
Beside your beech-coal, and your corsive 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 them,
Then trying them out. 'Fore God, my intelligence
Costs me more money, than my share oft comes to,
In these rare works.

SUB. You are pleasant, sir.
[RE-ENTER DOL.]
--How now!
What says my dainty Dolkin?

DOL. Yonder fish-wife
Will not away. And there's your giantess,
The bawd of Lambeth.

SUB. Heart, I cannot speak with them.

DOL. Not afore night, I have told them in a voice,
Thorough the trunk, like one of your familiars.
But I have spied sir Epicure Mammon--

SUB. Where?

DOL.