Raffe. Call you this seeking of fortunes when one can finde nothing but byrds nestes? would I were out of these Woodes, for I shall haue but wodden lucke, heers nothing but the skreeking of Owles, croking of Frogs, hissing of Adders, barking of Foxes, walking
|of Hagges. But what be these?||5|
Enter Fayries dauncing and playing and so, Exeunt.
I will follow them: to hell I shall not goe, for so faire faces neuer can haue such hard fortunes. What blacke boy is this?
Enter the Alcumists boy PETER.
Peter. What a life doe I leade with my Maister, nothing but
|blowing of bellows, beating of spirits, & scraping of Croslets? it is||10|
Raffe. Let me crosse my selfe, I neuer heard so many great deuils in a little Monkies mouth.
Peter. Then our instruments, Croslets, Subliuatories, Cucurbits, Limbecks, Decensores, Violes, manuall and murall, for enbibing and
|conbibing, Bellowes, molificatiue and enduratiue.||20|
Raffe. What language is this? doe they speake so?
Peter. Then our Mettles, Saltpeeter, Vitrioll, Sal tartar, Sal perperat, Argoll, Resagar, Sal Armonick, Egrimony, Lumany, Brimstone, Valerian, Tartar Alam, Breeme-worte, Glasse, Vnsleked lyme, Chalke,
|Ashes, hayre, and what not, to make I know not what.||25|
Raffe. My haire beginneth to stande vpright, would the boy would make an end!
Peter. And yet such a beggerly Science it is, and so strong on multiplication, that the ende is to haue neyther gold, wit, nor
Raffe. Then am I iust of thy occupation. What fellow, well met.
Peter. Felow! vpon what acquaintance?
Raffe. Why thou saist, the end of thy occupation is to haue____________________