The Alchemist by Ben Jonson

1/ This is the first Ben Jonson play I’ve read.

My first impression confirms what I have heard—that Ben Jonson, unlike Shakespeare, shows off his learning in his plays. Or to use Bill Bryson’s words, his learning “hangs like bunting on every word”. For example: 

“SUBTLE 

The thumb, in chiromanty, we give Venus;

The forefinger to Jove; the midst, to Saturn;

The ring to Sol; the least, to Mercury;

Who was the lord, sir, of his horoscope,

Is house of life being Libra, which foreshowed, 

He should be a merchant, and should trade with balance.” 

(Act 1 scene 3) 

Subtle is the alchemist (well, a con artist), and he is talking to Abel Drugger, a tobacco-man that he’s trying to scam.   

Later:

“SUBTLE 

Make me your door, then, south; your broad side, west;

And on the east side of your shop, aloft,

Write Mathlai, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;

Upon the north part, Rael, Velel, Thiel.

They are the names of those mercurial spirits,

That do fright flies from boxes.” 

(ibid.) 

My New Mermaids edition says that the “Mathlai… Thiel” part is quoted from the Heptameron, seu Elementa magica Pietri Abano Philosophi. No idea what that is. 

Let’s look at another passage. A knight named Epicure Mammon thinks he’s about to get the philosopher’s stone from Subtle, and tries to convince his incredulous companion Surly, a gamester, that the philosopher’s stone is real and has been written about by Moses, Salomon, and Adam.

“MAMMON 

‘Tis like your Irish wood,

‘Gainst cobwebs. I have a piece of Jason’s fleece, too,

Which was no other, than a book of alchemy,

Writ in large sheepskin, a good fat ram-vellum.

Such was Pythagoras’s thigh, Pandora’s tub;

And, all that fable of Medea’s charms,

And manner of our work: the bulls, our furnace,

The breathing fire; our argent-vive, the dragon;

The dragon’s teeth, mercury sublimate,

That keeps the whiteness, hardness, and the biting; 

And they are gathered, into Jason’s helm,

(Th’ alembic) and then sowed in Mars his field,

And, thence, sublimed so often, till they are fixed.

Both this, th’ Hesperian garden, Cadmus’s story, 

Jove’s shower, the boon of Midas, Argus’ eyes, 

Boccace his Demogorgon, thousands more, 

All abstract riddles of our stone…” 

(Act 2 scene 1) 

I mean, take it easy there, Ben? 

As it turns out, there are a lot more names and concepts and archaic words and Latin in the scenes between Subtle, Mammon, and Surly. 

Compared to Shakespeare, Ben Jonson seems more interested in the London around him, setting the play in Blackfriars during a plague and mentioning places or people that his audience would probably have recognised. He also refers more to contemporary issues and events explicitly: in Act 1 scene 2 for example, there are references to figures such as Simon Read, Chiause, Clim o’ the Cloughs (Adam Bell), etc.; and he writes about contemporary ideas and practices such as alchemy, horoscope, palmistry, the humours, etc.  

I’m not saying that The Alchemist is no longer relevant or relatable today (whatever it means), but in some ways the play seems to be more rooted in its time and place, whereas Shakespeare transcends his time and country.  

2/ From earlier on, I’ve noticed that Epicure Mammon sounds like an overreacher, like Doctor Faustus. In his conversation with Surly, and later with Face (Subtle’s accomplice), he talks about all the powers he thinks the philosopher’s stone would give him, and all the stuff he would do with it. 

Something gets my attention however:  

“MAMMON 

[…] Where I spy

A wealthy citizen, or rich lawyer,

Have a sublimed pure wife, unto that fellow

I’ll send a thousand pound, to be my cuckold.” 

(Act 2 scene 2)  

Yikes. 

Compared to the 2 previous victims, Mammon isn’t very sympathetic—does anyone feel bad that such a man get scammed? 

3/ Unlike Shakespeare in most of his plays, Ben Jonson does obey the 3 unities of classical drama: unity of action (a single action of Subtle and Face scamming people, with no subplot), unity of place (everything takes place in or just outside Lovewit’s house), and unity of time (the action is more or less continuous and takes place within the course of a day).  

The comedy of The Alchemist is very different from Shakespeare’s comedy. Once in a while there’s a sexual innuendo, whereas Shakespeare’s plays, including the tragedies and histories, are filled with puns and sex jokes. Ben Jonson doesn’t seem to like puns much.

His comedy is more satirical: mocking the vices of humankind such as greed, lust, gullibility, and hypocrisy. 

Ben Jonson does play with language, but not in the same way as Shakespeare. 

The con-men, especially Subtle (but also Face), put on different roles and speak different kinds of language. When Subtle talks to Abel Drugger for example, he uses the jargon of metoposcopy (the art of reading character from physiognomy), chiromanty (palmistry), and horoscope. In front of Mammon, Subtle talks like some kind of priest or holy man, then he and Face use the jargon of alchemy. 

Now take this scene, when a deacon named Ananias comes and asks for them. 

“SUBTLE 

[…] Who are you?

ANANIAS 

A faithful Brother, if it please you. 

SUBTLE 

What’s that? 

A Lullianist? A Ripley? Filius artis? 

Can you sublime, and dulcify? Calcine?

Know you the sapor pontic? Sapor styptic? 

Or, what is homogene, or heterogene?

ANANIAS 

I understand no heathen language, truly.” 

(Act 2 scene 5)  

I get exhausted reading that. 

“ANANIAS 

All’s heathen, but the Hebrew. 

SUBTLE 

Sirrah, my varlet, stand you forth, and speak to him

Like a philosopher: answer, i’ the language. 

Name the vexations, and the martyrizations

Of metals, in the work.

FACE 

Sir, Putrefaction,

Solution, Ablution, Sublimation,

Cohobation, Calcination, Ceration, and

Fixation.

SUBTLE 

This is heathen Greek, to you, now? 

And when comes Vivification? 

FACE 

After Mortification. 

SUBTLE 

What’s Cohobation? 

FACE 

‘Tis the pouring on. 

Your Aqua Regis, and then drawing him off,

To the trine circle of the seven spheres. 

SUBTLE 

What’s the proper passion of metals? 

FACE 

Malleation.

SUBTLE

What’s your ultimum supplicium auri?

FACE 

Antimonium.” 

(ibid.) 

See what I mean? I put up a long quote so you get the idea that it goes on and on—the language is packed with Latin and archaic words and unfamiliar terms.

Perhaps the way to read it is to accept feeling lost sometimes—Subtle uses language to dazzle and confuse and dwindle others. 

4/ Mammon’s language is fun. Take this speech to Dol, a prostitute and partner-in-crime of Subtle and Face that Mammon thinks is a lady and a scholar. 

“MAMMON

It is a noble humour. But this form

Was not intended to so dark a use! 

Had you been crooked, foul, of some coarse mould, 

A cloister had done well; but such a feature 

That might stand up the glory of a kingdom,

To live recluse!—is a mere solecism,

Though in a nunnery. It must not be…” 

(Act 4 scene 1) 

She’s too hot to be a recluse, he says. A short while later: 

“MAMMON 

I am pleased, the glory of her sex should know,

This nook, here of the Friars, is no climate

For her, to live obscurely in, to learn 

Physic, and surgery, for the Constable’s wife

Of some odd Hundred in Essex; but come forth,

And taste the air of places; eat, drink

The toils of emp’rics, and their boasted practice;

Tincture of pearl, and coral, gold, and amber; 

Be seen at feasts, and triumphs; have it asked,

What miracle she is? Set all the eyes 

Of court afire, like a burning glass,

And work ‘em in cinders; when the jewels

Of twenty states adorn thee; and the light

Strikes out the stars; that, when thy name is mentioned,

Queens may look pale; and, we but showing our love,

Nero’s Poppaea may be lost in story! 

Thus, will we have it!” 

(ibid.) 

Mammon is pompous and his language is bombastic. In The Alchemist, Ben Jonson satirises different types of people, Mammon is probably the one that stands out the most—at least to me. 

Sometime in the play, Surly calls him “the Faustus”. 

5/ One good thing about Ben Jonson putting his learning in the play is that I now know he knew Don Quixote. What a surprise. 

(Another unexpected thing is that the word “dildo” appears in the play, near the end). 

6/ The best part of The Alchemist, I reckon, is the tightly structured plot—it becomes denser and denser as the victims go in and out at the wrong time or new ones unexpectedly arrive and they clash with each other, forcing the con-men to improvise as they go along. 

The ending is good—unexpected.