MEN. Nay, good-now, stay a little, let's see his humour.
HEU. I see no reason to the contrary, for we see the quintessence of wine will convert water into wine; why therefore should not the elixir of gold turn lead into pure gold? [Soliloquises.]
MEN. Ha, ha, ha, ha! He is turned chemic, sirrah; it seems so by his talk.
HEU. But how shall I devise to blow the fire of beechcoals with a continual and equal blast? ha? I will have my bellows driven with a wheel, which wheel shall be a self-mover.
ANA. Here's old turning[276]; these chemics, seeking to turn lead into gold, turn away all their own silver.
HEU. And my wheel shall be geometrically proportioned into seven or nine concave encircled arms, wherein I will put equal poises: ay, ay; [Greek: heureka, heureka] I have it, I have it, I have it.
MEN. Heuresis!
HEU. But what's best to contain the quicksilver, ha?
ANA. Do you remember your promise, Heuresis?
HEU. It must not be iron; for quicksilver is the tyrant of metals, and will soon fret it.