SCENE VI.[1898

SUBTLE. [_Enter_] FACE [_in his uniform, followed by_] DRUGGER.

_Face._ He ’s busy with his spirits, but we’ll upon him.

_Sub._ How now! What mates, what Bayards[1899] ha’ we here?

_Face._ I told you he would be furious.—Sir, here ’s Nab Has brought you another piece of gold to look on; —We must appeass him. Give it me,—and prays you, 5 You would devise—what is it, Nab?

_Drug._ A sign, sir.

_Face._ Ay, a good lucky one, a thriving sign, doctor.

_Sub._ I was devising now.

_Face._ [_Aside to_ SUBTLE.] ’Slight, do not say so, He will repent he ga’ you any more.— What say you to his constellation, doctor, 10 The Balance?

_Sub._ No, that way is stale and common. A townsman born in Taurus, gives the bull, Or the bull’s head: in Aries, the ram,— A poor-device! No, I will have his name 14 Form’d in some mystic character; whose _radii_, Striking the senses of the passers-by, Shall, by a virtual[1900] influence, breed affections, That may result upon the party owns it: As thus—— 19

_Face._ Nab!

_Sub._ He first shall have a _bell_, that’s _Abel_; And by it standing one whose name is _Dee_,[1901] In a _rug_[1902] gown, there’s _D_, and _Rug_, that ’s _drug_ And right anenst him a dog snarling _er_; There’s Drugger, Abel Drugger. That ’s his sign. And here ’s now mystery and hieroglyphic! 25

_Face._ Abel, thou art made.

_Drug._ Sir, I do thank his worship.

_Face._ Six o’ thy legs[1903] more will not do it, Nab. He has brought you a pipe of tobacco, doctor.

_Drug._ Yes, sir; I have another thing I would impart—— 29

_Face._ Out with it, Nab.

_Drug._ Sir, there is lodg’d, hard by me, A rich young widow——

_Face._ Good! a bona roba?[1904]

_Drug._ But nineteen at the most.

_Face._ Very good, Abel.

_Drug._ Marry, she’s not in fashion yet; she wears A hood, but ’t stands a cop.[1905]

_Face._ No matter, Abel.

_Drug._ And I do now and then give her a fucus[1906]—— 35

_Face._ What! dost thou deal, Nab?

_Sub._ I did tell you, captain.

_Drug._ And physic too, sometime, sir; for which she trusts me With all her mind. She’s come up here of purpose To learn the fashion.

_Face._ Good (his match too!)—On, Nab.

_Drug._ And she does strangely long to know her fortune. 40

_Face._ God’s lid, Nab, send her to the doctor, hither.

_Drug._ Yes, I have spoke to her of his worship already; But she ’s afraid it will be blown abroad, And hurt her a marriage.

_Face._ Hurt it! ’t is the way To heal it, if ’t were hurt; to make it more 45 Follow’d and sought. Nab, thou shalt tell her this. She ’ll be more known, more talk’d of; and your widows Are ne’er of any price till they be famous; Their honour is their multitude of suitors. 49 Send her, it may be thy good fortune. What! Thou dost not know?

_Drug._ No, sir, she ’ll never marry Under a knight: her brother has made a vow.

_Face._ What! and dost thou despair, my little Nab, Knowing what the doctor has set down for thee, And seeing so many o’ the city dubb’d? 55 One glass o’ thy water, with a madam I know, Will have it done, Nab. What ’s her brother? a knight?

_Drug._ No, sir, a gentleman newly warm in ’s land, sir, Scarce cold in his one and twenty, that does govern His sister here; and is a man himself 60 Of some three thousand a year, and is come up To learn to quarrel, and to live by his wits, And will go down again, and die i’ the country.

_Face._ How! to quarrel?

_Drug._ Yes, sir, to carry quarrels, As gallants do; to manage ’em by line. 65

_Face._ ’Slid, Nab, the doctor is the only man In Christendom for him. He has made a table, With mathematical demonstrations, Touching the art of quarrels: he will give him An instrument to quarrel by. Go, bring ’em both, 70 Him and his sister. And, for thee, with her The doctor happ’ly may persuade. Go to: ’Shalt give his worship a new damask suit Upon the premises.

_Sub._ O, good captain!

_Face._ He shall; He is the honestest fellow, doctor. Stay not, 75 No offers; bring the damask, and the parties.

_Drug._ I ’ll try my power, sir.

_Face._ And thy will too, Nab.

_Sub._ ’T is good tobacco, this! What is ’t an ounce?

_Face._ He ’ll send you a pound, doctor.

_Sub._ O no.

_Face._ He will do ’t. It is the goodest soul!—Abel, about it. 80 Thou shalt know more anon. Away, be gone. [_Exit_ ABEL.] A miserable rogue, and lives with cheese, And has the worms. That was the cause, indeed, Why he came now: he dealth with me in private, 84 To get a med’cine for ’em.

_Sub._ And shall, sir. This works.

_Face._ A wife, a wife for one on ’s, my dear Subtle! We ’ll e’en draw lots, and he that fails, shall have The more in goods, the other has in tail.

_Sub._ Rather the less; for she may be so light She may want grains.

_Face._ Ay; or be such a burden, 90 A man would scarce endure her for the whole.

_Sub._ Faith, best let ’s see her first, and then determine.

_Face._ Content: but Dol must ha’ no breath on ’t.

_Sub._ Mum. Away you, to your Surly yonder, catch him.

_Face._ Pray God I ha’ not staid too long. 95

_Sub._ I fear it. [_Exeunt._]