You have colour for it, crimson: the red ferment Has done his office. Three hours hence prepare you To see projection.

Mam. Pertinax, my Surly,

Again I say to thee aloud, Be rich.

This day thou shalt have ingots, and to-morrow Give lords th' affront. Is it, my Zephyrus, right? Blushes the Bolt's-head?

Face. Like a wench with child, sir,

That were but now discover'd to her master.

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Mam. Excellent witty Lungs! My only care is, Where to get stuff enough now, to project on. This town will not half serve me.

Face. No, sir? buy

The covering off o' churches.

Mam. That's true.

Face. Yes.

Let 'em stand bare, as do their auditory;
Or cap 'em new with shingles.

Mam. No; good thatch:

Thatch will lie light upon the rafters, Lungs.

Lungs, I will manumit thee from the furnace ;
I will restore thee thy complexion, Puffe,
Lost in the embers; and repair this brain
Hurt with the fume o' the metals.

Face. I have blown, sir,

Hard for your worship; thrown by many a coal,
When 'twas not beech; weigh'd those I put in, just,

To keep your heat still even; these blear❜d eyes
Have waked to read your several colours, sir,
Of the pale citron, the green lion, the crow,
The peacock's tail, the plumed swan.

Mam. And lastly,

Thou hast descried the flower, the sanguis agni?
Yes, sir.

Face.

Mam.

Where 's master?

Face. At his prayers, sir, he;

Good man, he's doing his devotions
For the success.

Mam. Lungs, I will set a period

To all thy labours: thou shalt be the master

Of my seraglio. For I do mean

To have a list of wives and concubines

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40

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.
Thou art sure thou saw'st it blood?

Face. Both blood and spirit, sir.

Mam. I will have all my beds blown up; not stuffed: Down is too hard. And then, mine oval room

Fill'd 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 Succube. My mists
I'll have of perfume, vapour'd 'bout the room,
To lose ourselves 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 arriv'd at ruby 1)-Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or rich lawyer,

Have a sublim'd pure wife, unto that fellow
I'll send a thousand pound to be my cuckold.
Face. And I shall carry it?

Mam. No, I'll have no bawds,

But fathers and mothers. They will do it best,
Best of all others. And my flatterers
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 belie
Ladies, who are known most innocent (for them)
Those will I beg, to make me eunuchs of:
And they shall fan me with ten estrich tails
A piece, made in a plume, to gather wind.

We will be brave, Puffe, now we ha' the medicine
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,
Boil'd i' the spirit of Sol, and dissolv'd pearl,

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20

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40

(Apicius' diet 'gainst the epilepsy;)

And I will eat these broths with spoons of amber,
Headed with diamant and carbuncle.

My foot-boy shall eat pheasants, calver'd salmons,
Knots, godwits, lampreys: I myself will have
The beards of barbels serv'd, instead of salads;
Oil'd mushrooms; and the swelling unctuous paps
Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off,

Drest with an exquisite and poignant sauce:

For which, I'll say unto my cook, "There's gold, 10 Go forth, and be a knight.'

Face. Sir, I'll go look

A little, how it heightens.

Mam. Do.-My shirts

I'll have of taffeta-sarsnet, soft and light
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, perfum'd
With gums of paradise, and eastern air.

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Sur. And do you think to have the Stone with

this?

Mam. No, I do think to have all this with the Stone.

Sur. Why, I have heard, he must be homo frugi, A pious, holy, and religious man,

One free from mortal sin, a very virgin

Mam. 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 30
Do it alone, for me, still. Here he comes.
Not a profane word, afore him: 'tis poison.

[The judgment is perfectly overwhelmed by the torrent of images, words, and book-knowledge with which Mammon confounds and stuns his incredulous hearer. They come pouring out like the successive strokes, of Nilus. They "doubly redouble strokes upon the foe." Description outstrides proof. We are made to believe effects before we have testimony for their causes: as a lively description of the joys of heaven sometimes