FACE. Are they within then? SUB. Numbering the sum. FACE. How much? SUB. A hundred marks, boy. [EXIT.] FACE. Why, this is a lucky day. Ten pounds of Mammon! Three of my clerk! A portague of my grocer! This of the brethren! beside reversions, And states to come in the widow, and my count! My share to-day will not be bought for forty-- [ENTER DOL.] DOL. What? FACE. Pounds, dainty Dorothy! art thou so near? DOL. Yes; say, lord general, how fares our camp? FACE. As with the few that had entrench'd themselves Safe, by their discipline, against a world, Dol, And laugh'd within those trenches, and grew fat With thinking on the booties, Dol, brought in Daily by their small parties. This dear hour, A doughty don is taken with my Dol; And thou mayst make his ransom what thou wilt, My Dousabel; he shall be brought here fetter'd With thy fair looks, before he sees thee; and thrown In a down-bed, as dark as any dungeon; Where thou shalt keep him waking with thy drum; Thy drum, my Dol, thy drum; till he be tame As the poor black-birds were in the great frost, Or bees are with a bason; and so hive him In the swan-skin coverlid, and cambric sheets, Till he work honey and wax, my little God's-gift. DOL. What is he, general? FACE. An adalantado, A grandee, girl. Was not my Dapper here yet? DOL. No. FACE. Nor my Drugger? DOL. Neither. FACE. A pox on 'em, They are so long a furnishing! such stinkards Would not be seen upon these festival days.-- [RE-ENTER SUBTLE.] How now! have you done? SUB. Done. They are gone: the sum Is here in bank, my Face. I would we knew Another chapman now would buy 'em outright. FACE. 'Slid, Nab shall do't against he have the widow, To furnish household. SUB. Excellent, well thought on: Pray God he come! FACE. I pray he keep away Till our new business be o'erpast. SUB. But, Face, How cam'st thou by this secret don? FACE. A spirit Brought me th' intelligence in a paper here, As I was conjuring yonder in my circle For Surly; I have my flies abroad. Your bath Is famous, Subtle, by my means. Sweet Dol, You must go tune your virginal, no losing O' the least time: and, do you hear? good action. Firk, like a flounder; kiss, like a scallop, close; And tickle him with thy mother tongue. His great Verdugoship has not a jot of language; So much the easier to be cozen'd, my Dolly. He will come here in a hired coach, obscure, And our own coachman, whom I have sent as guide, No creature else. [KNOCKING WITHOUT.] Who's that? [EXIT DOL.] SUB. It is not he? FACE. O no, not yet this hour. [RE-ENTER DOL.] SUB. Who is't? DOL. Dapper, Your clerk. FACE. God's will then, queen of Fairy, On with your tire; [EXIT DOL.] and, doctor, with your robes. Let's dispatch him for God's sake. SUB. 'Twill be long.