Ben Jonson

“ SUB. Marry, to be so importunate for one, That, when he has it, will undo you all: He'll win up all the money in the town.
FACE. How!
SUB. Yes, and blow up gamester after gamester, As they do crackers in a puppet-play. If I do give him a familiar, Give you him all you play for; never set him: For he will have it. ”

“ DRUG. This, an't please your worship; I am a young beginner, and am building Of a new shop, an't like your worship, just At corner of a street: -- Here is the plot on't -- And I would know by art, sir, of your worship, Which way I should make my door, by necromancy, And where my shelves; and which should be for boxes, And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, sir: And I was wish'd to your worship by a gentleman, One captain Face, that says you know men's planets, And their good angels, and their bad. ”

“ SUB. And Beneath your threshold, bury me a load-stone To draw in gallants that wear spurs: the rest, They'll seem to follow.
FACE. That's a secret, Nab!
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. 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. ”

“ SUB. The spirits of dead Holland, living Isaac, You'd swear, were in him; such a vigorous luck As cannot be resisted. 'Slight, he'll put Six of your gallants to a cloke, indeed.
FACE. A strange success, that some man shall be born to.
SUB. He hears you, man --
DAP. Sir, I'll not be ingrateful.
FACE. Faith, I have confidence in his good nature: You hear, he says he will not be ingrateful.
SUB. Why, as you please; my venture follows yours.
FACE. Troth, do it, doctor; think him trusty, and make him. He may make us both happy in an hour; Win some five thousand pound, and send us two on't. ”

“ Rascals, Would run themselves from breath, to see me ride, Or you t' have but a hole to thrust your heads in, For which you should pay ear-rent? No, agree. And may don Provost ride a feasting long, In his old velvet jerkin and stain'd scarfs, My noble sovereign, and worthy general, Ere we contribute a new crewel garter To his most worsted worship.
SUB. Royal Dol! Spoken like Claridiana, and thyself.
FACE. For which at supper, thou shalt sit in triumph, And not be styled Dol Common, but Dol Proper, Dol Singular: the longest cut at night, Shall draw thee for his Doll Particular. ”

“ FACE. How! Swear by your fac, and in a thing so known Unto the doctor? How shall we, sir, trust you In the other matter? can we ever think, When you have won five or six thousand pound, You'll send us shares in't, by this rate?
DAP. By Jove, sir, I'll win ten thousand pound, and send you half. I'fac's no oath.
SUB. No, no, he did but jest.
FACE. Go to. Go thank the doctor: he's your friend, To take it so.
DAP. I thank his worship.
FACE. So! Another angel.
DAP. Must I?
FACE. Must you! 'slight, What else is thanks? will you be trivial? ”

“ FACE. O, fear not him. While there dies one a week O' the plague, he's safe, from thinking toward London. Beside, he's busy at his hop-yards now; I had a letter from him. If he do, He'll send such word, for airing of the house, As you shall have sufficient time to quit it: Though we break up a fortnight, 'tis no matter.
[RE-ENTER DOL.]
SUB. Who is it, Dol?
DOL. A fine young quodling.
FACE. O, My lawyer's clerk, I lighted on last night, In Holborn, at the Dagger. He would have (I told you of him) a familiar, To rifle with at horses, and win cups. ”