SUB. Well-- Your business, Abel? 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. I do, If I do see them-- [RE-ENTER FACE.] FACE. What! my honest Abel? Though art well met here. DRUG. Troth, sir, I was speaking, Just as your worship came here, of your worship: I pray you speak for me to master doctor. FACE. He shall do any thing.--Doctor, do you hear? This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow; He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil, Nor washes it in muscadel and grains, Nor buries it in gravel, under ground, Wrapp'd up in greasy leather, or piss'd clouts: But keeps it in fine lily pots, that, open'd, Smell like conserve of roses, or French beans. He has his maple block, his silver tongs, 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. 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. 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.