Monologue

Face Monologue from The Alchemist

From The Alchemist by Ben Jonson

male · defiant · 42 sec

Away. Why, now, you smoaky persecutor of nature! Now do you see, that something's to be done, Beside your beech-coal, and your corsive waters, Your crosslets, crucibles, and cucurbites? You must have stuff brought home to you, to work on: And yet you think, I am at no expense In searching out these veins, then following them, Then trying them out. 'Fore God, my intelligence Costs me more money, than my share oft comes to, In these rare works.

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