an imposing description of its effects; but compared with this, the rest of the play is a caput mortuum. The scene I allude to is the following:

"Mammon. Come on, Sir. Now, you set your foot on shore,

In Novo Orbe; here's the rich Peru:

And there within, Sir, are the golden mines,

Great Solomon's Ophir! He was sailing to 't
Three years, but we have reached it in ten months.
This is the day wherein, to all my friends,

I will pronounce the happy word, BE RICH;
This day you shall be Spectatissimi.

You shall no more deal with the hollow dye,
Or the frail card.

You shall start up young viceroys,
And have your punks and punketees, my Surly,
And unto thee, I speak it first, BE RICH.

Where is my Subtle, there? Within, ho!

Face. [within] Sir, he'll come to you, by and by.
Mam. That is his Firedrake,

His Lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffs his coals,

Till he firk nature up in her own centre.

You are not faithful, Sir. This night I'll change

All that is metal in my house to gold:

And early in the morning, will I send

To all the plumbers and the pewterers

And buy their tin and lead up; and to Lothbury,

For all the copper.

Surly. What, and turn that too?

Mam. Yes, and I'll purchase Devonshire and Cornwall,

And make them perfect Indies! You admire now?

Surly. No, faith.

Mam. But when you see th' effects of the great medicine,

Of which one part projected on a hundred

Of Mercury, or Venus, or the Moon,

Shall turn it to as many of the Sun;

Nay, to a thousand, so ad infinitum;
You will believe me.

Surly. Yes, when I see't, I will
Mam. Ha! why?

Do you think I fable with you? I assure you,
He that has once the flower of the Sun,
The perfect ruby, which we call Elixir,

Not only can do that, but, by its virtue,
Can confer honour, love, respect, long life;
Give safety, valour, yea, and victory,
To whom he will. In eight and twenty days,
I'll make an old man of fourscore, a child.
Surly. No doubt; he's that already.
Mam. Nay, I mean,

Restore his years, renew him, like an eagle,

To the fifth age; make him get sons and daughters,
Young giants; as our philosophers have done,

The ancient patriarchs, afore the flood,

But taking, once a week, on a knife's point,

The quantity of a grain of mustard of it;
Become stout Marses, and beget young Cupids.

You are incredulous.

Surly. Faith, I have a humour,

I would not willingly be gull'd. Your stone

Cannot transmute me.

Mam. Pertinax Surly,

Will you believe antiquity? records?

I'll shew you a book where Moses and his sister,

And Solomon have written of the art;

Ay, and a treatise penn'd by Adam

Surly. How!

Mam. Of the philosopher's stone, and in High Dutch.

Surly. Did Adam write, Sir, in High Dutch?

Mam. He did;

Which proves it was the primitive tongue.

[Enter Face, as a servant.

How now!

Do we succeed? Is our day come, and holds it?

Face. The evening will set red upon you, Sir: 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 the affront.

Face. At his prayers, Sir, he;

Good man, he's doing his devotions

For the success.

Mam. Lungs, I will set a period

Where's thy master?

To all thy labours; thou shalt be the master
Of my seraglio

For I do mean

To have a list of wives and concubines
Equal with Solomon:

I will have all my beds blown up, not stuft:
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

*

* My mists

Cut in more subtle angles, to disperse
And multiply the figures, as I walk.
I'll have of perfume, vapoured about 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? Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or a rich lawyer,

Have a sublimed 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.

We will be brave, Puffe, now we have the medicine.

My meat shall all come in, in Indian shells,
Dishes of agat set in gold, and studded
With emeralds, sapphires, hyacinths, and rubies.
The tongues of carps, dormice, and camel's heels
Boil'd in the spirit of Sol, and dissolv'd pearl,
Apicius' diet, 'gainst the epilepsy;

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

My footboys 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,
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.

Surly. And do you think to have the stone with this?
Mam. No, I do think t' have all this with the stone.
Surly. 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
Do it alone, for me, still; here he comes;
Not a profane word afore him: 'tis poison."

Act ii. scene 1.

I have only to add a few words on Beaumont and Fletcher. Rule a Wife and Have a Wife, the Chances, and the Wild Goose Chase, the original of the Inconstant, are superior in style and execution to any thing of Ben Jonson's. They are, indeed, some of the best comedies on the stage; and one proof that they are so, is, that they still hold possession of it. They shew the utmost alacrity of invention in contriving ludicrous distresses, and