Ben Jonson

"Subtle. What is your name, say you, Abel Drugger?Drugger. Yes, sir.Sub. A seller of tobacco ?Drug. Yes, sir.Sub. Umph! Free of the grocers [the Grocers' Company] ?Drug. Ay, an't please you.Sub. Well—your business, Abel?Drug. This, an't please your worship:I am a young beginner, and am buildingOf a new shop, an't like your worship, justAt corner of a street : — Here is the plot on't —And I would know by art, sir, of your worship,Which way I should make my door, by necromancy.And where my shelves ; and which should be for boxes,And which for pots. I would be glad to thrive, sir :I was wished to your worship by a gentleman.One Captain Face, that says you know men's planets,And their good angels, and their bad.Sub. I do,If I do see them. [An angel was also a coin.]Re-enter Face.Face. What I my honest Abel ?Thou art well met here.

"Face. What say you to his constellation, doctor,The Balance?

Sub. No, that way is stale and common.A townsman born in Taurus gives the bull,Or the bull's head: in Aries the ram,A poor device! No, I will have his nameFormed in some mystic character; whose radii,Striking the senses of the passers-by;Shall, by a virtual influence, breed affections,That may result upon the party owns it:As thus——

Face. Nab!

Sub. He shall have a bel that's Abel;And by it standing one whose name is Dee,In a rug gown, there's D; and rug, that's drug;And right anenst him a dog snarling er;There's Drug-er: Abel Drugger. That's his sign.And here now's mystery and hieroglyphic!

Face. Abel, thou art made.

Drug. Sir, I do thank his worship.

Face. Six o' thy legs more will not do it, Nab.He has brought you a pipe of tobacco, doctor.

Drug. Yes, sir——"