The Alchemist PDF Book by Ben Jonson


Click here to Download The Alchemist PDF Book by Ben Jonson English having PDF Size 1.8 MB and No of Pages 152.


The Alchemist PDF Book by Ben Jonson

Name of Book The Alchemist
Author Ben Jonson
PDF Size 1.8 MB
No of Pages 152
Language  English
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Sirrah, I’ll strip you— SUB. What to do? lick figs Out at my— FACE. Rogue, rogue!—out of all your sleights. DOL. Nay, look ye, sovereign, general, are you madmen? SUB. O, let the wild sheep loose. I’ll gum your silks With good strong water, an you come. DOL. Will you have The neighbours hear you? will you betray all?

Hark! I hear somebody. FACE. Sirrah— SUB. I shall mar All that the tailor has made, if you approach. FACE. You most notorious whelp, you insolent slave, Dare you do this? SUB. Yes, faith; yes, faith. FACE. Why, who Am I, my mungrel? who am I? SUB. I’ll tell you., Since you know not yourself. FACE. Speak lower, rogue. SUB.

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Yes, you were once (time’s not long past) the good, Honest, plain, livery-three-pound-thrum, that kept Your master’s worship’s house here in the Friars, For the vacations— FACE. Will you be so loud? SUB. Since, by my means, translated suburb-captain. FACE. By your means, doctor dog! SUB. Within man’s memory, All this I speak of.

FACE. Why, I pray you, have I Been countenanced by you, or you by me? Do but collect, sir, where I met you first. SUB. I do not hear well. FACE. Not of this, I think it. But I shall put you in mind, sir;—at Pie-corner, Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks’ stalls, Where, like the father of hunger, you did walk Piteously costive, with your pinch’d-horn-nose, And your complexion of the Roman wash.

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Stuck full of black and melancholic worms, Like powder corns shot at the artillery-yard. SUB. I wish you could advance your voice a little. FACE. When you went pinn’d up in the several rags You had raked and pick’d from dunghills, before day; Your feet in mouldy slippers, for your kibes; A felt of rug, and a thin threaden cloke, That scarce would cover your no buttocks— SUB. So, sir! FACE.

When all your alchemy, and your algebra, Your minerals, vegetals, and animals, Your conjuring, cozening, and your dozen of trades, Could not relieve your corps with so much linen Would make you tinder, but to see a fire; I gave you countenance, credit for your coals, Your stills, your glasses, your materials; Built you a furnace, drew you customers, Advanced all your black arts; lent you, beside.

A house to practise in— SUB. Your master’s house! Winchester pipes, and fire of Juniper: A neat, spruce, honest fellow, and no goldsmith. SUB. He is a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on. FACE. Already, sir, have you found it? Lo thee, Abel! SUB. And in right way toward riches— FACE. Sir! SUB. This summer He will be of the clothing of his company, And next spring call’d to the scarlet; spend what he can. The Alchemist PDF Book

FACE. What, and so little beard? SUB. Sir, you must think, He may have a receipt to make hair come: But he’ll be wise, preserve his youth, and fine for’t; His fortune looks for him another way. FACE. ‘Slid, doctor, how canst thou know this so soon? I am amused at that! SUB. By a rule, captain, In metoposcopy, which I do work by.

A certain star in the forehead, which you see not. Your chestnut or your olive-colour’d face Does never fail: and your long ear doth promise. I knew’t by certain spots, too, in his teeth, And on the nail of his mercurial finger. FACE. Which finger’s that? SUB. His little finger. Look. You were born upon a Wednesday? DRUG.

Yes, indeed, sir. SUB. The thumb, in chiromancy, we give Venus; The fore-finger, to Jove; the midst, to Saturn; The ring, to Sol; the least, to Mercury, Who was the lord, sir, of his horoscope, His house of life being Libra; which fore-shew’d, He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance. FACE. Why, this is strange! Is it not, honest Nab? SUB. The Alchemist PDF Book

There is a ship now, coming from Ormus, That shall yield him such a commodity Of drugs [POINTING TO THE PLAN.] —This is the west, and this the south? DRUG. Yes, sir. SUB. And those are your two sides? DRUG. Ay, sir. SUB. Make me your door, then, south; your broad side, west: And on the east side of your shop, aloft.

Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat; Upon the north part, Rael, Velel, Thiel. They are the names of those mercurial spirits, That do fright flies from boxes. SUB. It is, of the one part, A humid exhalation, which we call Material liquida, or the unctuous water; On the other part, a certain crass and vicious Portion of earth; both which, concorporate, Do make the elementary matter of gold.

Which is not yet propria materia, But common to all metals and all stones; For, where it is forsaken of that moisture, And hath more driness, it becomes a stone: Where it retains more of the humid fatness, It turns to sulphur, or to quicksilver, Who are the parents of all other metals. Nor can this remote matter suddenly Progress so from extreme unto extreme, As to grow gold, and leap o’er all the means. The Alchemist PDF Book

Nature doth first beget the imperfect, then Proceeds she to the perfect. Of that airy And oily water, mercury is engender’d; Sulphur of the fat and earthy part; the one, Which is the last, supplying the place of male, The other of the female, in all metals. Some do believe hermaphrodeity, That both do act and suffer.

But these two Make the rest ductile, malleable, extensive. And even in gold they are; for we do find Seeds of them, by our fire, and gold in them; And can produce the species of each metal More perfect thence, than nature doth in earth. Beside, who doth not see in daily practice Art can beget bees, hornets, beetles, wasps, Out of the carcases and dung of creatures; Yea, scorpions of an herb, being rightly placed?

And these are living creatures, far more perfect And excellent than metals. MAM. Well said, father! Nay, if he take you in hand, sir, with an argument, He’ll bray you in a mortar. SUR. Pray you, sir, stay. Rather than I’ll be brayed, sir, I’ll believe That Alchemy is a pretty kind of game, Somewhat like tricks o’ the cards, to cheat a man With charming. The Alchemist PDF Book

SUB. Sir? SUR. What else are all your terms, Whereon no one of your writers ‘grees with other? Of your elixir, your lac virginis, Your stone, your med’cine, and your chrysosperm, Your sal, your sulphur, and your mercury, Your oil of height, your tree of life, your blood, Your marchesite, your tutie, your magnesia, Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther.

Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop, Your lato, azoch, zernich, chibrit, heautarit, And then your red man, and your white woman, With all your broths, your menstrues, and materials, Of piss and egg-shells, women’s terms, man’s blood, Hair o’ the head, burnt clouts, chalk, merds, and clay, Powder of bones, scalings of iron, glass, And worlds of other strange ingredients.

Would burst a man to name? SUB. And all these named, Intending but one thing; which art our writers Used to obscure their art. MAM. Sir, so I told him— Because the simple idiot should not learn it, And make it vulgar. SUB. Was not all the knowledge Of the Aegyptians writ in mystic symbols? Speak not the scriptures oft in parables? The Alchemist PDF Book

Are not the choicest fables of the poets, That were the fountains and first springs of wisdom, Wrapp’d in perplexed allegories? SUB. What news, Dol? DOL. Yonder’s your knight, sir Mammon. FACE. ‘Ods lid, we never thought of him till now! Where is he? DOL. Here hard by: he is at the door. SUB. And you are not ready now! Dol, get his suit. [EXIT DOL.] He must not be sent back.

FACE. O, by no means. What shall we do with this same puffin here, Now he’s on the spit? SUB. Why, lay him back awhile, With some device. [RE-ENTER DOL, WITH FACE’S CLOTHES.] —Ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, ti, Would her grace speak with me? I come.—Help, Dol! [KNOCKING WITHOUT.] FACE [SPEAKS THROUGH THE KEYHOLE]. Who’s there?

Sir Epicure, My master’s in the way. Please you to walk Three or four turns, but till his back be turned, And I am for you.—Quickly, Dol! SUB. Her grace Commends her kindly to you, master Dapper. DAP. I long to see her grace. SUB. She now is set At dinner in her bed, and she has sent you From her own private trencher, a dead mouse, And a piece of gingerbread. The Alchemist PDF Book Download

To be merry withal, And stay your stomach, lest you faint with fasting: Yet if you could hold out till she saw you, she says, It would be better for you. FACE. Sir, he shall Hold out, an ’twere this two hours, for her highness; I can assure you that. We will not lose All we have done.— SUB. He must not see, nor speak To any body, till then. FACE. For that we’ll put, sir, A stay in’s mouth. SUB.

Of what? FACE. Of gingerbread. Make you it fit. He that hath pleas’d her grace Thus far, shall not now crincle for a little.— Gape, sir, and let him fit you. [THEY THRUST A GAG OF GINGERBREAD IN HIS MOUTH.] SUB. Where shall we now Bestow him? DOL. In the privy. SUB. Come along, sir, I now must shew you Fortune’s privy lodgings. FACE.

Are they perfumed, and his bath ready? SUB. All: Only the fumigation’s somewhat strong. FACE [SPEAKING THROUGH THE KEYHOLE]. Sir Epicure, I am yours, sir, by and by. MAM. Above the art of Aesculapius, That drew the envy of the thunderer! I know all this, and more. DOL. Troth, I am taken, sir, Whole with these studies, that contemplate nature. The Alchemist PDF Book Download

MAM. It is a noble humour; but this form Was not intended to so dark a use. Had you been crooked, foul, of some coarse mould A cloister had done well; but such a feature That might stand up the glory of a kingdom, To live recluse! is a mere soloecism, Though in a nunnery. It must not be. I muse, my lord your brother will permit it: You should spend half my land first, were I he.

Does not this diamond better on my finger, Than in the quarry? DOL. Yes. MAM. Why, you are like it. You were created, lady, for the light. Here, you shall wear it; take it, the first pledge Of what I speak, to bind you to believe me. DOL. In chains of adamant? MAM. Yes, the strongest bands. And take a secret too—here, by your side, Doth stand this hour, the happiest man in Europe.

DOL. You are contended, sir! MAM. Nay, in true being, The envy of princes and the fear of states. DOL. Say you so, sir Epicure? MAM. Yes, and thou shalt prove it, Daughter of honour. I have cast mine eye Upon thy form, and I will rear this beauty Above all styles. DOL. You mean no treason, sir? The Alchemist PDF Book Free

MAM. No, I will take away that jealousy. I am the lord of the philosopher’s stone, And thou the lady. DOL. How, sir! have you that? MAM. I am the master of the mystery. This day the good old wretch here o’ the house Has made it for us: now he’s at projection. Think therefore thy first wish now, let me hear it; And it shall rain into thy lap, no shower, But floods of gold, whole cataracts, a deluge, To get a nation on thee.

DOL. You are pleased, sir, To work on the ambition of our sex. MAM. I am pleased the glory of her sex should know, This nook, here, of the Friars is no climate For her to live obscurely in, to learn Physic and surgery, for the constable’s wife Of some odd hundred in Essex; but come forth, And taste the air of palaces; eat, drink The toils of empirics, and their boasted practice.

Tincture of pearl, and coral, gold, and amber; Be seen at feasts and triumphs; have it ask’d, What miracle she is; set all the eyes Of court a-fire, like a burning glass, And work them into cinders, when the jewels Of twenty states adorn thee, and the light Strikes out the stars! that when thy name is mention’d, Queens may look pale; and we but shewing our love, Nero’s Poppaea may be lost in story! Thus will we have it. The Alchemist PDF Book Free