FACE. Why, this is strange! Is it not, honest Nab?

SUB. There is a ship now, coming from Ormus,
That shall yield him such a commodity
Of drugs
[POINTING TO THE PLAN.]
-- This is the west, and this the south?

DRUG. Yes, sir.

SUB. And those are your two sides?

DRUG. Ay, sir.

SUB. 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.

DRUG. Yes, sir.

SUB. And
Beneath your threshold, bury me a load-stone
To draw in gallants that wear spurs: the rest,
They'll seem to follow.

FACE. That's a secret, Nab!