[Exeunt[146] Raphael and Treadway.
Clowne. And I will after you home, Syr, Since so merrily blowes the wind, Sir.
Thomas. Staye, frend, I am a stranger in these parts And woold in one thinge gladly bee resolved.
Clowne. I am in haste.
Thomas. That little leasure thou bestowest on mee I shalbee gladd to pay for; nay, I will. Drinke that for my sake.
Clowne. Not this, Syr, as it is; for I can make a shifte to dissolve hard mettall into a more liquid substance. A cardeq![147] oh Syr, I can distill this into a quintessence cal'd Argentum potabile.[148]
Thomas. I heard you name one Ashburne; can you bring mee To th'sight of such a man?
Clowne. Easily I can, Syr. But for another peice of the same stampe, I can bringe you to heare him, to feele him, to smell, to tast him, and to feede upon him your whole fyve senses.
Thomas. There's for thee, though I have no hope at all
To finde in France what I in Florens seeke.
And though my brother have no child alyve,
As longe synce lost when I was rob'd of myne,
Yet for the namesake, to my other travells
I'l add this little toyle, though purposeles.
I have about mee letters of Import
Dyrected to a merchant of that name
For whose sake (beeinge one to mee intyred)
I only crave to see the gentleman.
Clowne. Beleeve mee Syr I never love to jest, with those that beforehand deale with me in earnest. Will you follow mee?