Face. I dare not, sir. Mam. Stay, man; what is she? Mam. How! pray thee, stay. Face. She's mad, sir, and sent hither He'll be mad too.― Mam. I warrant thee.-5 Why sent hither? Face. Sir, to be cured. Sub. [within.] Why, rascal! Face. Lo you!— Here, sir! [Exit. Mam. 'Fore God, a Bradamante, a brave piece. Sur. Heart, this is a bawdy-house! I will be burnt else. Mam. O, by this light, no: do not wrong him. He's Too scrupulous that way: it is his vice. No, he's a rare physician, do him right, 4 Face. A lord's sister, sir, &c.] I have adopted the arrangements of the quarto, 1612, in these short speeches. It is so much more natural than that of the folio, 1616, that I am inclined to attribute the alteration to a mere oversight. 5 I warrant thee,] i. e. I will secure thee from the effects of his anger. 6 Furioso. a Bradamante.] The name of an heroine in Orlando WHAL. 7 An excellent Paracelsian.] A follower of Paracelsus. Philippus Aureolus Paracelsus Theophrastus Bumbastus de Hohenheim, (I love, as the good vicar of Wakefield says, to give the whole name,) was born, in 1493, at Einfideln, a little town near Zurich. His father, who was a physician, taught him the rudiments of his art, and would, perhaps, have taught him more, had not the incurable passion of his son for rambling prevented it. Before he was twenty, he had over-run a great part of Germany, conversing indifferently with barbers, old women, conjurers, chemists, quacks, &c. and eagerly adopting, from each, whatever he imagined conducive to the system of imposture which he had already planned. From Germany he proceeded to Russia, where he fell into the hands of the Tartars, and was carried to the Cham, who sent him Strange cures with mineral physic. He deals all With spirits, he; he will not hear a word Of Galen, or his tedious recipes. to Constantinople, to preside over the education of his son! Here, as all the world knows, he learned the grand secret, and returned to Germany with the philosopher's stone. At Basle, he set up for a physician, and having by accident, or mistake, cured Frobenius, (the noted printer,) he acquired considerable practice. In 1527, he was appointed professor of physic, and gave lectures. As he had far more cunning than knowledge, he wrapped up all that he delivered in a kind of mystical jargon, (like the alchemists,) which was perfectly unintelligible, and procured him a vast number of scholars. Emboldened by success, he now pretended to magic, and held conference with a familiar, or demon, whom, for the convenience of consulting, he constantly carried about with him in the hilt of his sword. He was also a warm stickler for reformation in ecclesiastical matters, which, as he had no religion, sets off his patriotism to great advantage. His language was rude, and his manner gross and offensive in the highest degree; he was arrogant, assuming, and full of the most extravagant promises and pretensions. He offered to teach the secret of making gold ad libitum, and lived on alms. He undertook readily to protract the existence of his patients to any period; and, while debating in his own mind how many centuries he himself would live, died of a common fever in the hospital of Saltsburg, in the 48th year of his age. The rest of his character is easily settled. He was of a lively fancy, and of an active and restless disposition: in our times he would have been a quack and a puppet-show man; in his own, this was not sufficient for his ambition, and he became a professed necromancer. From what I have read of his works, which are written in a mean, uncouth, and barbarous style, I should suppose that such a man might be compounded out of a Darwin and a Cagliostro. Paracelsus seems to have first fallen upon that ridiculous species of quackery which was revived not long ago with such parade, under the name of animal magnetism. His elixir of life was assisted in its operation by a process very similar to what the modern professors of the art call treating: the patient was wearied by some contemptible mummery into a state of somnolency, from which he was to awake with a renovated constitution. It is not a little mortifying to observe, that the boasted discoveries of this prodigious period, which has been proudly termed the "age of reason," but which would be more aptly denominated the age of impudence, had been made long since. There is not one of the miraculous inventions, which for a short time immortalized the phi How now, Lungs! Re-enter FACE. Face. Softly, sir; speak softly. I meant To have told your worship all. This must not hear. And is gone mad with studying Broughton's works. So learnedly of genealogies, losopher Godwin, that had not been the object of sovereign contempt and ridicule many centuries before he was born. 8 No, he will not be gull'd.] Mammon alludes with a sneer, to Surly's declarations, p. 47. 9 She is gone mad with studying Broughton's works.] "Mr. Hugh Broughton, a celebrated rabbin in queen Elizabeth's days, and a great publisher." WHAL. Broughton was an English divine, and a considerable proficient, (as has been already observed, in volume iii.) in the Hebrew. His attainments, however, in this language only served to make him ridiculous, for he fell upon a mode of explaining it perfectly incomprehensible to himself as well as to others. He was of a very pugnacious humour, and wasted many years of his life, in a most violent dispute with the archbishop of Canterbury, and a Jew rabbi, about the sense of sheol and hades. The rabbi, Howell says, was of the tribe of Aaron, and of such repute for sanctity at Amsterdam, (where he saw him,) that "when the other Jews met him, they fell down and kissed his feet." Let. vii. This did not, however, secure him from the coarse revilings of Broughton, whose insolence and pride were beyond all bounds. The reader may be amused with a specimen or two of his opinion of himself. "The Jews desired to have me sent to all the synagogues in Constantinople, if it were but to see my angelicall countenance." "French, Dutch, Papist, Protestant, call for me, being a man approved over the world." "If the queen (Elizabeth) will not preferre me for my pains, I will leave the land," &c. 66 All this, with much more, is to be found in an answer to Master Broughton's letters to the lord archbishop of Canterbury;" in which he is constantly spoken of as one grown mad with unprofitable study, and self-conceit. At all events, the study of him was well calculated to make others mad. Re-enter FACE. Face. Here's one from captain Face, sir, [to SURLY.] Again within two hours, you shall have That you may see her converse.—Sir, shall I say, Sur. Sir, I will. [Walks aside. But, by attorney, and to a second purpose.3 I'll swear it, were the marshal here to thank me : The naming this commander doth confirm it. Don Face! why he's the most authentic dealer He is the visitor, and does appoint, Who lies with whom, and at what hour; what price; Which gown, and in what smock; what fall; what tire. Him will I prove, by a third person, to find The subtleties of this dark labyrinth: Which if I do discover, dear sir Mammon, You'll give your poor friend leave, though no philosopher, To laugh: for you that are, 'tis thought, shall weep. Face. Sir, he does pray, you'll not forget. 3 But by attorney, and to a second purpose,] i. e. I will delegate, as it were, or appoint some other character to act instead of my own proper character. He speaks this (as Upton says) aside: for soon after he puts on the person of a Spanish don. WHAL. 4 What fall.] The fall (a very fashionable article of dress) was a ruff or band, which instead of being plaited round the neck, was turned back on the shoulders. I do not like your philosophical bawds. Mam. 'Heart, you abuse your self. I know the lady, and her friends, and means, Sur. And yet you never saw her Till now! Mam. O yes, but I forgot. I have, believe it, One of the treacherousest memories, I do think, Of all mankind. Sur. What call you her brother? Mam. My lord—— He will not have his name known, now I think on't. Sur. A very treacherous memory! Mam. On my faith Sur. Tut, if you have it not about you, pass it, Till we meet next. Mam. Nay, by this hand, 'tis true. He's one I honour, and my noble friend; Sur. Heart! can it be, That a grave sir, a rich, that has no need, A wise sir, too, at other times, should thus, With his own oaths, and arguments, make hard means Your menstruum simplex! I'll have gold before you, Or the hot sulphur. 2 2 With less danger of the quicksilver, Or the hot sulphur.] "Meaning (as Upton observes) with less danger of being salivated for it.” |