The Elder Brother Fletcher, John; Massinger, Philip This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A00960 of text S102356 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 11066). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Nicole Sheriko This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A00960.xml The elder brother a comedie. Acted at the Blacke Friers, by his Maiesties Servants. Printed according to the true copie. Written by Iohn Fletcher Gent. Fletcher, John, 1579-1625. 38 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2003 January (TCP phase 1) 99838141 STC (2nd ed.) 11066. Greg, II, 515(a). 2504 A00960 2248551311

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 The elder brother a comedie. Acted at the Blacke Friers, by his Maiesties Servants. Printed according to the true copie. Written by Iohn Fletcher Gent. Fletcher, John, 1579-1625. Massinger, Philip, 1583-1640. [72] p. Imprinted by F[elix] K[ingston] for I. W[aterson] and I. B[enson], London : 1637. 1625

Acts I and V are ascribed to Philip Massinger, who probably completed the play after Fletcher's death.

In verse.

Printer's and publishers' names from STC.

Signatures: [A]2 B-I4 K2.

Reproduction of the original in the British Library.

 A00960 shc The Elder Brother Fletcher, John Massinger, Philip Nicole Sheriko 1625 play comedy shc no A00960 S102356 (STC 11066). 76 24713 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.00 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago

THE ELDER BROTHER A COMEDIE . Acted at the Blacke Friers , by his Maiesties Servants . Printed according to the true Copie .

Written by Iohn Fletcher Gent.

LONDON , Imprinted by F. K. for I. W. and I. B. 1637 .

The Speakers of the Play . LEWIS , a Lord . MIRAMONT , a Gentleman . BRISAC , a Iustice , brother to Miramont . CHARLES , a Scholar . EUSTACE , a Courtier . Sonnes to Brisac . EGREMONT , COWSY , two Courtiers , Friends to Eustace . ANDREW , Servant to Charles . COOKE , BUTLER , Servants to Brisac . PRIEST . NOTARY . SERVANTS . OFFICERS . ANGELLINA , Daughter to Lewis . SYLVIA , her Woman . LILLY , Wife to Andrew . LADIES .
Lectori . Would'st thou all wit , all Comicke art survay ? Reade here and wonder ; FLETCHER writ the Play .
Prologue . BUt that it would take from our modesty , To praise the Writer , or the Comedie , Till your faire suffrage crowne it : I should say , Y' are all most welcome to no vulgar Play ; And so farre we are confident ; And if he That made it , still lives in your memory ; You will expect what we present to night , Should be judg'd worthy of your eares and sight . You shall heare Fletcher in it ; his true straine , And neate expressions ; living he did gaine Your good opinions ; But now dead commends This Orphan to the care of noble friends : And may it raise in you content and mirth , And be receiv'd for a legitimate birth . Your grace erects new Trophies to his fame , And shall to after times preserve his name .
The Elder Brother . A Comedie .
Actus I. Scoena I. LEWIS , ANGELLINA , SYLVIA . NAy , I must walke you farther . Ang. I am tyr'd Sir , And nere shall foot it home . Lew. 'T is for your health ; The want of exercise takes from your beauties , And sloth dries up your sweetnesse : That you are My onely Daughter and my heire , is granted ; And you in thankfulnesse must needs acknowledge , You ever finde me an indulgent Father , And open handed . Ang. Nor can you taxe me , Sir , I hope , for want of duty to deserve These favours from you . Lew. No , my Angellina , I love and cherish thy obedience to me , Which my care to advance thee , shall confirme ; All that I aime at , is to winne thee from The practise of an idle foolish state Us'd by great Women , who thinke any labour , ( Though in the service of themselves ) a blemish To their faire fortunes . Ang. Make me understand Sir , What 't is you point at . Lew. At the custome how Virgins of wealthy families , waste their youth ; After a long sleepe , when you wake , your woman Presents your breakfast , then you sleepe againe , Then rise , and being trimm'd up by others hands , Y' are led to dinner , and that ended , either To Cards or to your Couch ( as if you were Borne without motion ) After this to Supper , And then to bed ; And so your life runnes round Without variety or action Daughter . Syl. Here 's a learned Lecture ! Lew. From this idlenesse Diseases both in body and in minde Grow strong upon you ; where a stirring nature With wholsome exercise guards both from danger : I 'de have thee rise with the Sunne , walke , daunce , or hunt , Visite the groves and springs , and learne the vertues Of Plants and Simples : Doe this moderately , And thou shalt not with eating chalke , or coales , Leather and oatmeale , and such other trash , Fall into the greene sicknesse . Syl. With your pardon ( Were you but pleas'd to minister it ) I could Prescribe a remedy for my Ladies health , And her delight too , farre transcending those Your Lordship but now mention'd . Lew. What is it Sylvia ? Syl. What i' st ? A noble Husband ; In that word , a Noble Husband , all content of Woman Is wholly comprehended ; He will rowse her , As you say , with the Sunne , and so pipe to her , As she will daunce , ne're doubt it , and hunt with her , Upon occasion , untill both be weary ; And then the knowledge of your Plants and Simples , As I take it , were superfluous ; A loving , And but adde to it a game some Bedfellow , Being the sure Physician . Lew. Well said Wench . Ang. And who gave you Commission to deliver Your verdict , Minion ? Syl. I deserve a fee , And not a frowne , deare Madam ; I but speake Her thoughts , my Lord , and what her modesty Refuses to give voyce to ; Shew no mercy To a Maidenhead of fourteene , but off with 't : Let her loose no time Sir , fathers that deny Their Daughters lawfull pleasure , when ripe for them , In some kindes edge their appetites to taste of The fruit that is forbidden . Lew. T is well urg'd , And I approve it ; no more blushing Girle , Thy woman hath spoke truth , and so prevented What I meant to move to thee : There dwelles neere us A Gentleman of blood , Monsieur Brisac , Of a faire state , sixe thousand Crownes per annum , The happy Father of two hopefull Sonnes , Of different breeding ; Th' elder , a meere Scholar , The younger , a queint Courtier . Ang. Sir , I know them By publique fame , though yet I never saw them ; And that oppos'd antipathy betweene Their various dispositions , renders them The generall discourse and argument ; One part inclining to the Scholar Charles , The other side preferring Eustace , as A man compleat in Courtship . Lew. And which way ( If of these two you were to chuse a husband ) Doth your affection sway you ? Ang. To be plaine , Sir , ( Since you will teach me boldnesse ) As they are Simply themselves , to neither ; Let a Courtier Be never so exact , Let him be blest with All parts that yeeld him to a Virgin gracious , If he depend on others , and stand not On his owne bottomes , though he have the meanes To bring his Mistresse to a Masque , or by Conveyance from some great ones lippes , to taste Such favour from the kings ; or grant he purchase , Precedency in the Country , to be sworne A servant Extraordinary to the Queene ; Nay , though he live in expectation of Some huge preferment in reversion ; If He Want a present fortune , at the best Those are but glorious dreames , and onely yeeld him A happinesse in posse , not in esse ; Nor can they fetch him silkes from th' Mercer ; nor Discharge a Taylors bill ; nor in full plenty ( Which still preserves a quiet bed at home ) Maintaine a family . Lew. Aptly consider'd , And to my wish , but what 's thy censure of The Scholar ? Ang. Troth ( if he be nothing else ) As of the Courtier ; all his Songs , and Sonnets , His Anagrams , Acrosticks , Epigrammes , His deepe and Philosophicall discourse Of natures hidden secrets , makes not up A perfect husband ; He can hardly borrow The Starres of the Celestiall crowne to make me A tire for my head ; nor Charles Waine for a Coach , Nor Ganimede for a Page , nor a rich gowne From Juno's Wardrobe , nor would I lye in ( For I despaire not once to be a mother ) Under heavens spangled Canopy , or banquet My guests and Gossips with imagin'd Nectar , Pure Orleans would doe better ; no , no , father , Though I could be well pleas'd to have my husband A Courtier , and a Scholar , young , and valiant , These are but gawdy nothings , If there be not Something to make a substance . Lew. And what 's that ? Ang. A full estate , and that said , I 've said all , And get me such a one with these additions , Farewell Virginity , and welcome wedlocke . Lew. But where is such one to be met with Daughter ? A blacke Swan is more common , you may weare Grey tresses ere we finde him . Ang. I am not So punctuall in all ceremonies , I will bate Two or three of these good parts , before I le dwell Too long upon the choice . Syl. Onely , my Lord , remember That he be rich and active , for without these , The others yeeld no rellish , but these perfect ; You must beare with small faults , Madam . Lew. Merry Wench , And it becomes you well , I le to Brisac , And try what may be done ; i th' meane time , home , And feast thy thoughts with th' pleasures of a Bride . Syl. Thoughts are but airy food Sir , let her taste them .
Actus I. Scoena II. ANDREW , COOKE , BUTLER . Unload part of the Library , and make roome For th' other dozen of Carts , I le straight be with you . Co. Why hath he more bookes ? And. More than ten Marts send over . But. And can he tell their names ? And. their names ? he has 'em As perfect as his pater noster , but that 's nothing , ‛ Has read them over leafe by leafe three thousand times ; But here 's the wonder , though their weight would sinke A Spanish Carracke , without other ballast , He carryeth them all in his head , and yet He walkes upright . But. Surely he has a strong braine . And. If all thy pipes of wine were fill'd with bookes Made of the barkes of trees , or mysteries writ In old moth-eaten vellam , he would sip thy Celler Quite dry , and still be thirsty ; Then for 's Diet , He eates and digests more Volumes at a meale , Than there would be Larkes ( though the sky should fall ) Devowr'd in a moneth in Paris , yet feare not Sonnes o th' the buttry , and kitchin , though his learn'd stomacke Cannot b' appeas'd ; Hee 'll seldome trouble you , His knowing stomacke contemnes your blacke Jackes , Butler , And your Flagons , and Cooke thy boyl'd , thy roast , thy bak'd . Co. How liveth he ? And. Not as other men doe , Few Princes fare like him ; He breakes his fast With Aristotle , dines with Tully , takes His watering with the Muses , suppes with Livie , Then walkes a turne or two in via lactea , And ( after sixe houres conference with the starres ) Sleepes with old Erra Pater . But. This is admirable . And. I 'le tell you more hereafter , here 's my old Master And another old ignorant Elder , I le upon 'em . Enter BRISAC , LEWIS . What Andrew ? welcome , where 's my Charles ? speake Andrew , Where didst thou leave thy Master ? And. Contemplating The number of the sands in the high way , And from that , purposes to make a judgement Of the remainder in the Sea ; He is Sir , In serious study , and will lose no minute Nor out of 's pace to knowledge . Lew. This is strange . And. Yet he hath sent his duty Sir before him In this faire manuscript . Bri. What have we heere ? Pothookes and Andirons ! And. I much pitie you , It is the Syrian Character , or the Arabicke , Would 'ee have it said , so great and deepe a Scholar As Master Charles is , should aske blessing In any Christian Language ? Were it Greeke , I could interpret for you , but indeed I 'm gone no farther . Bri. And in Greeke you can Lie with your smug wife Lilly . And. If I keepe her From your French dialect , as I hope I shall Sir , Howere she is your Laundresse , she shall put you To th' charge of no more soape than usuall For th' washing of your sheets . Bri. Take in the knave , And let him eat . And. And drinke too , Sir . Bri. And drinke too , Sir , And see your Masters Chamber ready for him . But. Come Doctor Andrew without Disputation Thou shalt commence i th' Celler . And. I had rather Commence on a cold bak'd meat . Co. Thou shalt ha 't , Boy . Exeunt . Bri. Good Monsieur Lewis I esteeme my selfe Much honour'd in your cleare intent , to joyne Our ancient families , and make them one , And 't will take from my age and cares to live And see what you have purpos'd put in act , Of which your visite at this present is A hopefull Omen ; I each minute expecting Th' arrivall of my Sonnes ; I have not wrong'd Their Birth for want of meanes and education , To shape them to that course each was addicted ; And therefore that we may proceed discreetly , Since what 's concluded rashly seldome prospers , You first shall take a strict perusall of them , And then from your allowance , your faire daughter May fashion her affection . Lew. Monsieur Brisac , You offer faire , and nobly , and I le meet you In the same line of honour , and I hope , Being blest but with one daughter , I shall not Appeare impertinently curious , Though with my utmost vigilance and study , I labour to bestow her to her worth ; Let others speake her forme , and future fortune From me descending to her ; I in that Sit downe with silence . Bri. You may my Lord securely , Since fame alowd proclaimeth her perfections , Commanding all mens tongues to sing her praises ; Should I say more , you well might censure me ( What yet I never was ) a Flatterer . What trampling 's that without of Horses ? Enter BUTLER . Sir my young Masters are newly alighted . Bri. Sir now observe their severall dispositions . Enter CHARLES . Bid my Subsiser carry my Hackney to the Buttry , And give him his bever ; it is a civill And sober beast , and will drinke moderately , And that done , turne him into the quadrangle . Bri. He cannot out of his University tone . Enter EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY . Lackey , take care our Coursers be well rubb'd , And cloath'd , they have outstripp'd the winde in speed . Lew. I marry Sir , there 's metall in this young fellow ! What a sheepes looke his elder brother has ! Char. Your blessing , Sir ? Bri. Rise Charles , thou hast it . Eust. Sir , though it be unusuall in the Court , ( Since 't is the Courtiers garbe ) I bend my knee , And doe expect what followes . Bri. Courtly begg'd . My blessing ! take it . Eust. Your Lordships vow'd adorer : to Lew. What a thing this brother is ! yet I le vouchsafe him The new Italian shrug — How clownishly The book-worme does returne it . Ch. I 'm glad y' are well . reades . Eust. Pray you be happy in the knowledge of This paire of accomplish't Monsieurs . They are Gallants that have seene both Tropicks . Br. I embrace their loves . Egr. which wee 'll repay with servulating . Cow . And will report your bounty in the Court . Bri. I pray you make deserving use on 't first : Eustace give entertainment to your friends , What 's in my house is theirs . Eust. Which wee 'l make use of ; Let 's warme our braines with halfe a dozen healths , And then hang cold discourse , for wee 'll speake fire-works . Exeunt . Lew. What at his booke already ? Bri. Fye , fye , Charles , No houre of interruption ? Cha. Plato differs From Socrates in this . Bri. Come lay them by ; Let them agree at leasure . Cha. Mans life Sir , being So short , and then the way that leades unto The knowledge of our selves , so long and tedious , Each minute should be precious . Bri. In our care To manage worldly businesse , you must part with This bookish contemplation , and prepare Your selfe for action ; to thrive in this age , Is held the palme of learning ; you must study To know what part of my land 's good for th' plough , And what for pasture , how to buy and sell To the best advantage , how to cure my Oxen When they 're oregrowne with labour . Cha. I may doe this From what I 've read Sir ; for what concernes tillage ? Who better can deliver it than Virgil In his Georgicks ? and to cure your heards , His Bucolicks is a masterpeece ; but when He does describe the Commonwealth of Bees , Their industry and knowledge of the hearbs , From which they gather honey , with their care To place it with decorum in the Hive , Their government among themselves , their order In going forth and comming loaden home , Their obedience to their King , and his towards To such as labour , with his punishments Onely inflicted on the slothfull Drone , I 'm ravished with it , and there reape my harvest , And there receive the gaine my Cattell bring me , And there finde wax and honey . Bri. And grow rich In your imagination , heyday , heyday , Georgicks , and Bucolicks , and Bees ! Art mad ? Cha. No Sir , the knowledge of these guard me from it . Bri. But can you finde among your bundle of bookes , ( And put in all your Dictionaries that speake all tongues ) What pleasures they enjoy , that doe embrace A well shap'd wealthy Bride ? Answer me that . Cha. T is frequent Sir in story , there I read of All kinde of vertuous and vitious women , The ancient Spartan Dames , and Roman Ladyes , Their beauties , and deformities , and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia , Crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodnesse , With such a feeling I peruse their fortunes , As if I then had liv'd , and freely tasted Their ravishing sweetnesse ; at the present loving The whole sexe for their goodnesse and example . But on the contrary when I looke on A Clytemnestra or a Tullia , The first bath'd in her husbands blood ; The later , Without a touch of piety , driving on Her Chariot ore her fathers breathlesse trunke ; Horrour invades my faculties ; and comparing The multitudes o' th' guilty , with the few That did dye Innocents , I detest , and loathe 'm As ignorance or Atheisme . Bri. You resolve then Nere to make payment of the debt your owe me . Cha. What debt , good Sir . Bri. A debt I paid my father When I begat thee , and made him a Grandsire , Which I expect from you . Cha. The children Sir , Which I will leave to all posterity , Begot and brought up by my painefull studies , Shall be my living issue . Bri. Very well , And I shall have a generall collection Of all the quiddits from Adam to this time To be my grandchilde . Cha. And such a one I hope Sir , As shall not shame the Family . Bri. Nor will you Take care of my estate . Cha. But in my wishes , For know Sir , that the wings on which my Soule Is mounted , have long since borne her too high To stoope to any prey , that soares not upwards , Sordid and dunghill mindes compos'd of earth , In that grosse Element fixe all their happinesse ; But purer spirits , purg'd and refin'd , shake off That clog of humane frailty ; give me leave T' enjoy my selfe , that place that does containe My Books ( the best Companions ) is to me A glorious Court , where howrely I converse With the old Sages and Philosophers , And sometimes for variety , I conferre With Kings and Emperours , and weigh their Councels , Calling their Victories ( if unjustly got ) Unto a strict accompt , and in my phancy , Deface their ill plac'd Statues ; Can I then Part with such constant pleasures , to imbrace Uncertaine vanities ? No , be it your care T' augment your heape of wealth ; It shall be mine T' encrease in knowledge — Lights there for my study . — Exit . Bri. Was ever man that had reason thus transported From all sense and feeling of his proper good ? It vexes me , and if I found not comfort In my young Eustace , I might well conclude My name were at a period ! Lew. Hee 's indeed Sir , The surer base to build on . Bri. Eustace . Enter Eust. Egre. Cow . & Andr. Eust. Sir . Bri. Your eare in private . And. I suspect my master Has found harsh welcome , hee 's gone supperlesse Into his study ; could I finde out the cause , It may be borrowing of his bookes , or so , I shall be satisfi'd . Eust. My duty shall Sir , Take any forme you please , and in your motion To have me married , you cut off all dangers The violent heats of youth might beare me to . Lew. It is well answer'd . Eust. Nor shall you my Lord , Nor your faire Daughter ever finde just cause To mourne your choice of me ; the name of husband Nor the authority it carries in it Shall ever teach me to forget to be As I am now her servant , and your Lordships , And but that modesty forbids , that I Should sound the Trumpe of my owne deserts , I could say my choice manners have beene such , As render me lov'd and remarkable To th' Princes of the blood . Cow . Nay to the King . Egre. Nay to the King and Councell . And. These are Court admirers , And ever eccho him that beares the bagge , Though I be dull ey'd , I see through this jugling . Eust. Then for my hopes . Cow . Nay certainties . Eust. They stand As faire as any mans , What can there fall In compasse of her wishes which she shall not Be suddenly possess'd of ? Loves she titles ? By th' grace and favour of my princely friends , I am what she would have me . Bri. He speakes well , And I beleeve him . Lew. I could wish I did so . Pray you a word Sir , Hee 's a proper Gentleman , And promises nothing , but what is possible . So farre I will goe with you , Nay I adde , He hath woone much upon me , and were he But one thing that his brother is , the bargaine Were soone strucke up . Bri. What 's that my Lord ? Lew. The heire . And. Which he is not , and I trust never shall be . Bri. Come , that shall breed no difference , you see Charles has giv'n ore the World ; He undertake , And with much ease , to buy his birthright of him For a dry-fat of new bookes ; nor shall my state Alone make way for him , but my elder brothers , Who being issuelesse , t' advance our name , I doubt not will adde his ; Your resolution ? Lew. I le first acquaint my daughter with the proceedings , On these tearmes I am yours , as she shall be , Make you no scruple , get the writings ready , She shall be tractable ; tomorrow we will hold A second conference : Farewell noble Eustace , And you brave Gallants . Eust. Full increase of honour Wait ever on your Lordship . And. The Gowt rather And a perpetuall Meagrim . Bri. You see Eustace , How I travaile to possesse you of a fortune You were not borne to , be you worthy of it , I le furnish you for a Suitor ; visite her And prosper in 't . Eust. Shee 's mine Sir , feare it not : In all my travailes , I nere met a Virgin That could resist my Courtship . Eust. If this take now , W' are made for ever , and will revell it . Exeunt . And. In tough welsh parsly , which in our vulgar Tongue Is strong hempen halters ; My poore Master cooz'nd , And I a looker on ! If we have studied Our majors , and our minors , antecedents , And consequents , to be concluded coxcombes , W' have made a faire hand on 't , I 'm glad I h've found Out all their plots , and their conspiracies , This shall t' old Monsieur Miramont , one , that though He cannot reade a Proclamation , yet Dotes on learning , and loves my Master Charles For being a Scholar , I heare hee 's comming hither , I shall meet him , and if he be that old Rough teasty blade he alwayes us'd to be , I le ring him such a peale as shall goe neere To shake their belroome , peradventure , beat 'm , For he is fire and flaxe , and so have at him . Exit . Finis Actus primi .
Actus 2. Scoena 1. MIRAMONT . BRISAC . NAy brother , brother . Bri. Pray Sir be not moved , I meddle with no businesse but mine owne , And in mine owne 't is reason I should governe . Mir. But how to governe then , and understand Sir , And be as wise as y' are hasty , though you be My brother and from one bloud sprung , I must tell yee Heartely and home too . Br. What Sir ? Mir. What I grieve to finde , You are a foole , and an old foole , and that 't s two Bri. Wee 'l part 'em , if you please . Mir. No they 're entail'd to 'em , Seeke to deprive an honest noble spirit , Your eldest sonne Sir , and your very Image , ( But hee 's so like you that he fares the worse for 't ) Because he loves his booke and doates on that , And onely studies how to know things excellent , Above the reach of such course braines as yours , Such muddy fancies , that never will know farther Then when to cut your Vines , and cozen Merchants , And choake your hide-bound Tenants with musty harvests . Bri. You goe too fast . Mir. I 'm not come to my pace yet , Because h' has made his study all his pleasure , And is retyr'd into his Contemplation , Not medling with the dirt and chaffe of nature , That makes the spirit of the minde mud too , Therefore must he be flung from his inheritance ? Must he be dispossess'd , and Monsieur gingle boy His younger brother ? — Bri. You forget your selfe , Mir. Because h' has been at Court and learn'd new tongues , And how to speake a tedious peece of nothing , To vary his face as Seamen doe their Compasse , To worship images of gold and silver , And fall before the she Calves of the Season , Therefore must he jumpe into his brothers land ? Bri. Have you done yet , and have you spake enough In praise of learning , Sir ? Mir. Never enough . Bri. But brother doe you know what learning is ? Mir. It is not to be a Justice of Peace , as you are , And palter out your time i th' penall Statutes , To heare the curious Tenets controverted Betweene a Protestant Constable , and a Jesuit Cobler , To picke naturall Philosophie out of bawdry When your Worship 's pleas'd to correctifie a Lady , Nor 't is not the maine morall of blinde Justice , ( Which is deepe learning ) when your worship Tenants Bring a light cause , and heavie Hennes before yee , Both fat and feesible , a Goose or Pig , And then you sit like equity with both hands Weighing indifferently the state o th' question . These are your quodlibets , but no learning Brother . Bri. You are so parlously in love with learning , That I 'de be glad to know what you understand , brother , I 'me sure you have read all Aristotle . Mir. Faith no , But I beleeve , I have a learned faith Sir , And that 's it makes a Gentleman of my sort , Though I can speake no Greeke I love the sound on 't , It goes so thundering as it conjur'd Devils ; Charles speakes it loftily , and if thou wert a man , Or had'st but ever heard of Homers Iliads , Hesiod , and the Greeke Poets , thou would'st runne mad , And hang they selfe for joy th' hadst such a Gentleman To be thy sonne ; O he has read such things To me ! Bri. And you doe understand 'm brother . Mir. I tell thee no , that 's not materiall ; the sound 's Sufficient to confirme an honest man : Good brother Brisac , do's your young Courtier That weares the fine cloathes , and is the excellent Gentleman , ( The Traveiler , the Souldier , as you thinke too ) Understand any other power than his Tailor ? Or knowes what motion is , more than an Horse-race ? What the Moone meanes , but to light him home from Tavernes ? Or the comfort of the Sunne is , but to weare slash't clothes in ? And must this peece of ignorance be popt up , Because 't can kisse the hand , and cry sweet Lady ? Say it had beene at Rome , and seene the Reliques , Drunke your Verdea wine , and ridde at Naples , Brought home a box of Venice treacle , with it To cure young wenches that have eaten ashes : Must this thing therefore ? — Bri. Yes Sir , this thing must , I will not trust my land to one so sotted , So growne like a disease unto his studie , He that will fling off all occasions And cares , to make him understand what state is , And how to governe it , must by that reason , Be flung himselfe aside from managing : My younger boy is a fine Gentleman . Mir. He is an asse , a peece of ginger-bread , Gilt over to please foolish girles and puppets . Bri. You are my elder brother . Mir. So I had need , And have an elder wit , thou 'd'st shame us all else , Goe too , I say , Charles shall inherit . Bri. I say no , Unlesse Charles had a soule to understand it , Can he manage sixe thousand Crownes a yeere Out of the metaphysicks ? or can all His learn'd Astronomy looke to my Vineyards ? Can the drunken old Poets make up my Vines ? ( I know they can drinke 'm ) or your excellent humanists Sell 'm the Merchants for my best advantage ? Can History cut my hay , or get my Corne in ? And can Geometrie vent it in the market ? Shall I have my sheepe kept with a Iacobs staffe now ? I wonder you will magnifie this mad man , You that are old and should understand . Mir. Should , sai'st thou , Thou monstrous peece of ignorance in office ! Thou that hast no more knowledge than thy Clerke infuses , Thy dapper Clerke larded with ends of Latin , And he no more than custome of offences ; Thou unreprieveable Dunce ! that thy formall bandstrings , Thy ring nor pomander cannot expiate for , Do'st thou tell me I should ? I le pose thy Worship In thine owne Library and Almanacke , Which thou art dayly poring on to picke out Dayes of iniquity to cozen fooles in , And full Moones to cut Cattell ; do'st thou taint me , That have runne over story , Poetry , Humanity ? Bri. As a cold nipping shadow Does ore the eares of Corne , and leave 'em blasted , Put up your anger , what I le doe I le doe . Mir. Thou shalt not doe . Bri. I will . Mir. Thou art an Asse then , A dull old tedious Asse , th' art ten times worse And of lesse credit than Dunce Hollingshead The Englishman , that writes of snowes and Sheriffes . Enter LEWIS . Bri. Well take your pleasure , here 's one I must talke with . Lew. Good day Sir . Bri. Faire to you Sir . Lew. May I speake w' yee . Bri. With all my heart , I was waiting on your goodnesse . Lew. Good morrow Monsieur Miramont . Mir. O sweet Sir , Keepe your good morrow to coole your Worships pottage , A couple of the worlds fooles met together To raise up dirt and dunghils . Lew. Are they drawne ? Bri. They shall be ready Sir , within these two houres , And Charles set his hand . Lew. 'T is necessary , For he being a joint purchaser , though your state Was got by your owne industrie , unlesse He seale to the Conveyance , it can be Of no validity . Bri. He shall be ready , And doe it willingly . Mir. He shall be hang'd first . Bri. I hope your daughter likes . Lew. She loves him well Sir , Young Eustace is a bait to catch a woman , A budding spritely fellow , y' are resolv'd then , That all shall passe from Charles . Bri. All all , hee 's nothing , A bunch of bookes shall be his patrimony , And more than he can manage too . Lew. Will your brother Passe over his land too , to your sonne Eustace ? You know he has no heire . Mir. He will be flead first . And horse-collers made of 's skin ! Bri. Let him alone , A wilfull man ; my state shall serve the turne , Sir . And how does your Daughter ? Lew. Ready for the houre , And like a blushing Rose that staies the pulling . Bri. Tomorrow , then 's the day . Lew. Why then to morrow I le bring the Girle , get you the Writings ready . Mir. But harke you Monsieur , have you the vertuous conscience To helpe to robbe an heire , an Elder Brother Of that which nature and the Law flings on him ? You were your fathers eldest sonne , I take it , And had his Land , would you had had his wit too , Or his discretion to consider nobly , What 't is to deale unworthly in these things ; You 'll say hee 's none of yours , hee 's his sonne , And he will say , he is no sonne to inherit Above a shelfe of Bookes ; Why did he get him ? Why was he brought up to write and reade and know things ? Why was he not like his father , a dumbe Justice ? A flat dull peece of flegme , shap'd like a man , A reverend I doll in a peece of auras ? Can you lay disobedience , want of manners , Or any capitall crime to his charge ? Lew. I doe not , Nor doe not weigh your words , they bite not me , Sir , This man must answer . Bri. I have don 't already , And giv'n sufficient reason to secure me : And so good morrow brother to your patience . Lew. Good morrow Monsieur Miramont . Mir. Good night-caps Keepe your braines warme , or Maggots will breed in 'm . Well Charles , thou shalt not want to buy thee bookes yet , The fairest in thy study are my gift , And the University Lovaine for thy sake , Hath tasted of my bounty , and to vexe Th' old doting foole thy father , and thy brother , They shall not share a Solz of mine betweene them ; Nay more , I le give thee eight thousand Crownes a yeere , In some high straine to write my Epitaph . — Exit .
Actus II. Scoena II. EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY . How doe I looke now to my elder Brother ; Nay , 't is a handsome Suite . Cow . All courtly , courtly . Eust. I le assure ye Gentlemen , my Tailor has travail'd , And speakes as lofty language in his bills too , The cover of an old Booke would not shew thus . Fye , fie , what things these Academicks are , These book-wormes , how they looke ! Egr. Th' are meere Images , No gentle motion nor behaviour in 'em , They 'll prattle yee of primum mobile , And tell a story of the state of Heaven , What Lords and Ladies governe in such houses , And what wonders they doe when they meet together , And how they spit snow , fire , and haile like a Jugler , And make a noise when they are drunke , which we call Thunder . Cow . They are the sneaking'st things , and the contemptiblest ; Such small beere braines , but aske 'em any thing Out of the Element of their understanding , And they stand gaping like a roasted Pig ; Doe they know what a Court is or a Councell , Or how th' affaires of Christendome are manag'd ? Doe they know any thing but a tyr'd hackney ? And they cry absurd as the Horse understood 'em . They have made a faire youth of your elder brother , A pretty peece of flesh . Eust. I thanke 'm for it , Long may he study to give me his state . Saw you my Mistresse ? Egre. Yes , shee s a sweet young woman , But be sure you keepe her from learning . Eust. Songs she May have , and reade a little unbak'd Poetry , Such as the Dablers of our time contrive , That has no weight nor wheele to move the minde , Nor indeed nothing but an empty sound ; She shall have cloathes but not made by Geometrie , Horses and Coach but of no immortall race ; I will not have a Scholar in mine house Above a gentle Reader , They corrupt The foolish women with their subtle problems : I le have my house call'd Ignorance , to fright Prating Philosophers from enterteinment . Cow . It will doe well , love those that love good fashions , Good clothes and rich , they invite men to admire 'm , That speake the lispe of Court , Oh 't is great learning ! To ride well , daunce well , sing well , or whistle Courtly , Th' are rare endowments ; that have seene farre Countries And can speake strange things , though they speake no truths , For then they make things common . When are you marryed ? Eust. To morrow , I thinke , we must have a Masque Boyes , And of our owne making . Egre. T is not halfe an houres worke , A Cupid and a fiddle , and the thing 's done , But let 's be handsome , shall 's be Gods or Nymphs ? Eust. What , Nymphs with beards ? Cow . That 's true , wee 'll bee Knights then , Some wandring Knights , that light here on a sudden . Eust. Let 's goe , let 's goe , I must goe visite , Gentlemen , And marke what sweet lips I must kisse to morrow . Exeunt .
Actus II. Scoena II. COOKE , ANDREW , BUTLER . And how do's my Master ? And. Is at 's booke , peace Coxcombe , That such an unlearn'd tongue as thine should aske for him ! Co. Do's he not studie conjuring too ? And. Have you Lost any plate , Butler ? But . No , but I know I shall tomorrow at dinner . And. Then to morrow You shall be turn'd out of your place for 't ; we meddle With no spirits o th' Buttry , they taste too small for us ; Keepe me a pye in folio , I beseech thee , And thou shalt see how learnedly I le translate him ; Shall 's have good cheere to morrow . Coo. Ex'Lent , good cheere Andrew . And. The spight on 't is , that much about that time , I shall be arguing , or deciding rather , Which are the Males and Females of red Herrings , And whether they be taken in the red Sea onely , A question found out by Copernicus , The learned Motion-maker . Co. I marry , Butler , Here are rare things ; a man that look'd upon him , Would sweare he understood no more than we doe . But. Certaine , a learned Andrew . And. I 've so much on 't , And am so loaden with strong understanding , I feare , they 'll runne me mad , here 's a new instrument , A metamaticall glister to purge the Moone with , When she is laden with cold flegmaticke humours , And here 's another to remove the Starres , When they grow too thicke in the Firmament . Co. O heavens ! why doe I labour out my life In a beefe-pot ? and onely search the secrets Of a Sallad ; and know no farther ! And. They are not Reveal'd to all beads ; These are farre above Your Element of Fire , Cooke , I could tell you Of Archimides glasse to fire your coales with , And of the Philosophers turfe that nere goes out ; And Gilbert Butler , I could ravish thee , With two rare inventions . But. What are they Andrew ? And. The one to blanch your bread from chippings base , And in a moment , as thou would'st an Almond , The Sect of the Epicurians invented that ; The other for thy trenchers , that 's a strong one , To cleanse you twenty dozen in a minute , And no noise heard , which is the wonder Gilbert , And this was out of Plato's new Idea's . But. Why what a learned Master do'st thou serve Andrew ? And. These are but the scrapings of his understanding , Gilbert ; With gods and goddesses , and such strange people He deales , and treats with in so plaine a fashion , As thou do'st with thy boy that drawes thy drinke , Or Ralph there with his kitchin boyes and scalders . Coo. But why should he not be familiar and talke sometimes , As other Christians doe , of hearty matters , And come into the Kitchin , and there cut his breakfast ? But. And then retyre to the Buttry and there eate it , And drinke a lusty bowle , my younger Master That must be now the heire will doe all these , I and be drunke too ; These are mortall things . And. My Master studies immortality . Coo. Now thou talk'st Of immortality , how do's thy wife Andrew ? My old Master Did you no small pleasure when he procur'd her And stock'd you in a fame . If he should love her now , As he hath a Colts tooth yet , what sayes your learning And your strange instruments to that my Andrew ? Can any of your learned Clerkes avoid it ? Can ye put by his Mathematicall Engine ? And. Yes , or I le breake it ; thou awaken'st me , And I le peepe i th' Moone this moneth but I le watch for him . My Master rings , I must goe make him a fire , And conjure ore his bookes . Coo. Adieu good Andrew , And send thee manly patience with thy learning . — Exeunt .
Actus II. Scoena IV. CHARLES . I have forgot to eate and sleepe with reading , And all my faculties turne into studie , T is meat and sleepe , what need I outward garments , When I can cloathe my selfe with understanding , The Starres and glorious Planets have no Tailors , Yet ever new they are and shine like Courtiers , The seasons of the yeere finde no fond parents , Yet some are arm'd in silver Ice that glisters , And some in gawdy greene come in like Masquers , The Silke-worme spinnes her owne suite and her lodging , And has no aide nor partner in her labours ; Why should we care for any thing but knowledge , Or looke upon the world but to contemne it ? Enter ANDREW . Would you have anything ? Cha. Andrew , I finde There is a stie growne ore the eye o th' Bull , Which will goe neere to blinde the Constellation . And. Put a gold-ring in 's nose , and that will cure him . Cha. Ariadne's crown 's awry too , two maine-starres That held it fast are slipp'd out . And. Send it presently To Gallatteo the Italian Star-wright Hee 'll set it right againe with little labour . Cha. Thou art a pretty Scholar . And. I hope I shall be , Have I swept your bookes so often to know nothing ? Cha. I heare thou art marryed . And. It hath pleas'd your father To match me to a maide of his owne choosing , I doubt her constellation 's loose too , and wants nailing , And a sweet farme he has given us a mile off Sir , Cha. Marry thy selfe to understanding , Andrew , These women are Errata in all Authours , They 're faire to see to , and bound up in vellam , Smoothe , white and cleare , but their contents are monstrous ; They treat of nothing , but dull age and diseases . Thou hast not so much wit in thy head , as there is On those shelves Andrew . And. I thinke I have not Sir . Cha. No , if thou had'st thou ld'st nere have marryed a woman In thy bosome , they 're Cataplasmes made o th' deadly sinnes , I nere saw any yet but mine owne mother , Or if I did , I did regard them , but As shadowes that passe by of under Creatures . And. Shall I bring you one ? I le trust you with my owne wife ; I would not have your brother goe beyond ye , Th' are the prettiest naturall Philosophers to play with . Cha. No , no , th' are opticks to delude mens eyes with . Does my younger brother speake any Greeke yet , Andrew ? And. No , but he speakes high Dutch , and that goes as daintily . Cha. Reach me the bookes downe I read yesterday , And make a little fire , and get a manchet , Make cleane those instruments of brasse I shew'd you , And set the great Sphere by , then take the foxe tayle And purge the bookes from dust , last take your Lilly , And get your part ready . And. Shall I goe home Sir ? My wives name is Lilly , there my best part lyes , Sir . Cha. I meane your Grammar , O thou dunderhead ! Would'st thou be ever in thy wives Syntaxis ? Let me have no noise , nor nothing to disturbe me , I am to finde a secret . And. So am I too , Which if I doe finde , I shall make some smart for 't . — Exeunt .
Actus 3. Scoena 1. LEWIS , ANGELLINA , SYLVIA , NOTARY . THis is the day my daughter Angellina , The happy , that must make you a fortune , A large and full one , my great care has wrought it , And yours must be as great to entertaine it , Young Eustace is a Gentleman at all points , And his behaviour affable and courtly , His person excellent , I know you finde that , I reade it in your eyes , you like his youth , Young handsome people should be match'd together , Then followes handsome Children , handsome fortunes , The most part of his fathers state , my Wench , Is ti'd in joynture , that makes up the harmony , And when y' are marryed hee 's of that soft temper , And so farre will be chain'd to your observance , That you may rule and turne him as you please . What are the writings drawne on our side , Sir ? Not. They are , and here I have so fetter'd him , That if the Elder Brother set his hand to , Not all the power of Law shall ere release him . Lew. These Notaries are notable confident Knaves , And able to doe more mischiefe than an Army : Are all your Clauses sure ? Not. Sure as proportion , They may turne Rivers sooner than these Writings . Not. Why did you not put all the lands in , Sir ? Lew. T was not condition'd . Not. If it had been found , It had been but a fault made in the Writing , If not found all the Land . Lew. These are small Devills That care not who has mischiefe , so they make it ; They live upon the meere scent of dissension . T is well , t is well , Are you contented Girle ? For your will must be knowne . Ang. A husband's welcome , And as an humble wife I le entertaine him , No soveraignty I aime at , 't is the mans Sir , For she that seekes it , killes her husbands honour : The Gentleman I have seene , and well observ'd him , Yet finde not that grac'd excellence you promise , A pretty Gentleman , and he may please too , And some few flashes I have hear'd come from him , But not to admiration , as to others ; Hee 's young , and may be good , yet he must make it , And I may helpe , and helpe to thanke him also . It is your pleasure I should make him mine , And 't has been still my duty to observe you . Lew. Why then let 's goe , and I shall love your modesty . To horse , and bring the Coach out . Angellina , To morrow you will looke more womanly . Ang. So I looke honestly , I feare no eyes , Sir . Exeunt .
Actus III. Scoena II. BRISAC , ANDREW , COOKE , LILLY . Waite on your Master , he shall have that befits him . And. No inheritance , Sir ? Bri. You speake like a foole , a coxcombe , He shall have annuall meanes to buy him bookes , And finde him cloathes and meat , what would he more ? Trouble him with Land ? 't is flat against his nature : I love him too , and honour those gifts in him . And. Shall Master Eustace have all ? Bri. All , all , he knowes how To use it , hee 's a man bred in the world , T' other i th' heavens : my masters , pray be wary , And serviceable , and Cooke see all your sawces Be sharpe and poynant in the pallat , that they may Commend you , looke to your roast and bak'd meates handsomely , And what new kickshawes and delicate made things — Is th' musicke come ? But. Yes Sir , th' are here at breakfast . Bri. There will be a Masque too , you must see this roome cleane , And Butler your doore open to all good fellowes , But have an eye to your plate , for there be Furies : My Lilly welcome , you are for the linnen , Sort it , and see it ready for the Table , And see the bride-bed made , and looke the cords be Not cut a sunder by the Gallants too , There be such knacks abroad ; harke hither , Lilly , To morrow night at twelve a clocke , I le suppe w' ye , Your husband shall be safe , I le send ye meate too , Before I cannot well stip from my company . And. Will ye so , will you , so , Sir ? I le make one to eate it , I may chance make you stagger too . Bri. No answer , Lilly ? Lil. One word about the linnen ; I le be ready , And rest your worships still . And. And I le rest w' yee , You shall see what rest 't will be : Are ye so nimble : A man had need have ten paire of eares to watch you . Bri. Waite on your Master , for I know he wants ye , And keepe him in his study , that the noise Doe not molest him : I will not faile my Lilly — Come in sweet hearts , all to their severall duties . Exeunt . And. Are you kissing ripe , Sir ? Double but my farme And kisse her till thy heart ake ; these smocke vermin , How eagerly they leape at old mens kisses , They licke their lippes at profit , not at pleasure ; And if 't were not for th' scurvie name of Cuckold , He should lye with her , I know shee 'll labour at length With a good Lordship . If he had a wife now , But that 's all one , I le fit him : I must up Unto my Master , hee 'll be mad with studie . — Exit .
Actus III. Scoena III . CHARLES . What noise is in this house , my head is broken , Within a Parenthesis , in every corner As if the earth were shaken with some strange Collect , There are stirres and motions , What Planet rules this house ? Enter ANDREW . Who 's there ? And. T is I Sir , faithfull Andrew . Cha. Come neere , And lay thine eare downe , hear'st no noise ? And. The Cookes Are chopping hearbs and mince meat to make pies , And breaking Marrow-bones — Char. Can they set them againe ? And. Yes , yes , in brothes and puddings , and they grow stronger For th' use of any man . Cha. What sque a king 's that ? Sure there is a massacre . And. Of Pigs and Geese Sir , And Turkeys for the spit . The Cookes are angry Sir , And that makes up the medly . Cha. Doe they thus At every dinner ? I nere mark'd them yet , Nor know who is a Cooke . And. Th' are sometimes sober , And then they beat as gently as a Tabor . Char. What loades are these ? Andr. Meate , meate , Sir , for the Kitchin , And stinking fowles the Tenants have sent in , They 'll nere be found out at a generall eating , And there 's fat Venison , Sir . Cha. What 's that ? And. Why Deere , Those that men fatten for their private pleasures , And let their Tenants starve upon the Commons . Cha. I 've read of Deere , but yet I nere eate any . And. There 's a Fishmongers boy with Caviar Sir , Anchoves and Potargo , to make ye drinke . Cha. Sure these are moderne , very moderne meates , For I understand 'em not . And. No more do's any man From Caca merda or a substance worse , Till they be greas'd with oyle , and rub'd with onions , And then flung out of doores , they are rare Sallads , Cha. And why is all this , prithee tell me Andrew ? Are there any Princes to dine here to day ? By this abundance , sure there should be Princes ; I 've read of entertainment for the gods At halfe this charge , will not fine dishes serve 'em ? I never had but one , and that a small one . And. Your Brother 's married this day , hee 's married , Your younger brother Eustace . Cha. What of that ? And. And all the friends about are bidden hither , There 's not a dogge that knowes the house but comes too . Cha. Marryed ? to whom ? And. Why to a dainty Gentlewoman , Young , sweet , and modest . Cha. Are there modest women ? How doe they looke ? And. O you 'ld blesse your selfe to see them . He parts with 's booke , he nere did so before yet . Cha. What do's my father for 'em ? And. Gives all his Land , And makes your brother heire . Cha. Must I have nothing ? And. Yes , you must study still , and hee 'll maintaine you . Cha. I am his eldest brother . And. True , you were so , But he has leap'd one your shoulders , Sir . Cha. T is well , Hee 'll not inherit my understanding too ? And. I thinke not , hee 'll scarce finde Tenants to let it Out to . Cha. Harke , harke . Andr. The Coach that brings the faire Lady . Enter LEWIS , ANGELLINA , Ladies , NOTARY , &c. And. Now you may see her . Cha. Sure this should be modest ; But I doe not truly know what women make of it , Andrew ; she has a face lookes like a story , The story of the Heavens lookes very like her . And. She has a wide face then . Cha. She has a Cherubins , Cover'd and vail'd with modest blushes . Eustace be happy whiles poore Charles is patient . Get me my booke againe , and come in with me . — Exeunt . Enter BRISAC , EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY , MIRAMONT . Bri. Welcome sweet Daughter , welcome noble brother , And you are welcome Sir , with all your writings , Ladies most welcome ; What ? my angry brother ! You must be welcome too , the feast is flat else . Mir. I am not come for your welcome , I expect none , I bring no joyes to blesse the bed withall , Nor songs , nor Masques to glorifie the Nuptialls , I bring an angry minde to see your folly , A sharpe one too , to reprehend you for it . Bri. You 'll stay and dine though ? Mir. All your meate smelles musty , Your Table will shew nothing to content me . Bri. I le answer you , here 's good meate . Mira. But your sawce is scurvie , It is not season'd with the sharpnesse of discretion . Eust. It seemes your anger is at me , deare Uncle . Mir. Thou are not worth my anger , th' art a boy , A lumpe o' thy fathers lightnesse , made of nothing But anticke cloathes and cringes , looke in thy head , And 't will appeare a football full of fumes And rotten smoke ; Lady , I pitie you , You are a handsome and a sweet young Lady , And ought to have a handsome man yoak'd t' yee , An understanding too , this is a Gincracke , That can get nothing but new fashions on you , For say he have a thing shap'd like a childe , T will either prove a tumbler or a Tailor . Eust. These are but harsh words Uncle . Mir. So I meane 'em Sir , you play harsher play w' your elder brother . Eust. I would be loth to give you . Mir. Doe not venter , I le make your wedding-cloathes sit closer t' ee then ; I but disturbe you , I le goe see my nephew . Lew. Pray take a peece of rosemary . Mir. I le weare it , But for the Ladies sake , and none of yours , May be I le see your table too . Bri. Pray doe , Sir . Ang. A mad old Gentleman . Bri. Yes faith , sweet daughter , He has been thus his whole age to my knowledge , He has made Charles his heire , I know that certainly , Then why should he grudge Eustace any thing ? Ang. I would not have a light head , nor one laden With too much learning , as they say , this Charles is , That makes his booke his Mistresse : Sure , there 's something Hid in this old mans anger , that declares him Not a meere Sot . Bri. Come shall we goe and seale , brother ? All things are ready and the Priest is here , When Charles has set his hand unto the Writings . As he shall instantly , then to the Wedding , And so to dinner . Lew. Come , let 's seale the booke first , For my daughters Joynture . Bri. Let 's be private in 't , Sir . Exeunt .
Actus III. Scoena IV. Enter CHARLES , MIRAMONT , ANDREW . Mir. Nay , y' are undone . Cha. hum . Mira. Ha' ye no greater feeling ? And. You were sensible of the great booke , Sir , When it fell on your head , and now the house Is ready to fall , Doe you feare nothing ? Cha. Will He have my bookes too ? Mir. No , he has a booke , A faire one too to reade on , and reade wonders , I would thou hadst her in thy studie Nephew , And 't were but to new string her . Cha. Yes , I saw her , And me thought 't was a curious peece of learning , Handsomely bound , and of a dainty letter . And. He flung away his booke . Mir. I like that in him , Would he had flung away his dulnesse too , And spake to her . Cha. And must my brother have all ? Mir. All that your father has . Cha. And that faire woman too ? Mir. That woman also . Cha. He has enough then . May I not see her sometimes , and call her Sister ? I will doe him no wrong . Mir. This makes me mad , I could now cry for anger ; these old fooles Are the most stubborne and the wilfullest Coxcombs . Farewell , and fall to your booke , forget your brother , You are my heire , and I le provide y' a wife : I le looke upon this marriage though I hate it . Exit . Enter BRISAC . Where is my sonne ? And. There Sir , casting a figure What chopping children his brother shall have . Bri. He do's well ; How do'st Charles ? still at thy booke ? And. Hee 's studying now Sir , who shall be his father . Bri. Peace you rude Knave — Come hither Charles , be merry , Cha. I thanke you I am busie at my booke , Sir , Bri. You must put your hand my Charles , as I would have you , Unto a little peece of parchment here , Onely your name , you write a reasonable hand . Cha. But I may doe unreasonably to write it , What is it Sir ? Bri. To passe the Land I have , Sir , Unto your younger brother . Cha. Is 't no more ? Bri. No , no , 't is nothing , you shall be provided for , And new bookes you shall have still , and new studies , And have your meanes brought in without the care boy , And one still to attend you . Cha. This shewes your love father . Bir. I 'm tender to you . And. Like a stone , I take it . Cha. Why father , I le goe downe , an 't please you let me , Because I de see the thing they call the Gentlewoman , I see no women but through contemplation , And there I le doe 't before the company , And wish my brother fortune . Bri. Doe I prithee . Cha. I must not stay , for I have things above Require my study . Bri. No thou shalt not stay , Thou shalt have a brave dinner too . And , Now has he Orethrowne himselfe for ever ; I will downe Into the Celler , and be starke drunke for anger . Exeunt .
Actus III. Scoena V. Enter LEWIS , ANGELLINA , EUSTACE , Priest , Ladies , COWSY , Notary , MIRAMONT . Not. Come let him bring his sonnes hand , and all 's done . Is yours ready ? Pr. Yes , I le dispatch ye presently , Immediately , for in truth I am a hungry . Eust. Doe , speake apace , for we beleeve exactly : Doe not we stay long Mistris ? Ang. I finde no fault , Better things well done than want time to doe them . Uncle , why are you sad ? Mir. Sweet smelling blossome , Would I were thine Uncle to thine owne content , I de make thy husbands state a thousand , better A yearely thousand , thou hast mist a man , ( But that he is addicted to his study , And knowes no other Mistresse than his minde ) Would weigh downe bundles of these empty kexes . Ang. Can he speake , Sir ? Mir. Faith yes , but not to women : His language is to heaven , and heavenly wonder , To Nature , and her darke and secret causes . Ang. And does he speake well there ? Mir. O , admirably , But hee 's too bashfull to behold a woman , There s none that sees him , nor her troubles none . Ang. He is a man , Mir. Yes , and a cleare sweet spirit . Ang. Then conversation me thinkes — Mir. So thinke I too , But it is his rugged fate , and so I leave you . Ang. I like thy noblenesse . Eust. See , my mad Uncle Is courting my faire Mistresse . Lew. Let him alone , There 's nothing that allayes an angry minde So soone as a sweet beauty ; hee 'l come to us . Enter BRISAC , CHARLES . Eust. My father 's here , my brother too ! that 's a wonder , Broke like a spirit from his Cell . Bri. Come hither , Come neerer Charles , 'T was your desire to see My noble Daughter , and the company , And give your brother joy , and then to seale boy . You doe like a good brother . Lew. Marry do's he , And he shall have my love for ever for 't . Put to your hand now . Not. Here 's the Deed Sir , ready . Cha. No , you must pardon me a while , I tell ye , I am in contemplation , doe not trouble me . Bri. Come , leave thy study , Charles . Cha. I le leave my life first ; I study now to be a man , I 've found it . Before , what man was , was but my Argument . Mir. I like this best of all , he has taken fire , His dull mist flies away . Eust. Will you write brother ? Cha. No , brother no , I have no time for poore things , I 'm taking th' height of that bright Constellation . Bri. I say , you trifle time , sonne . Cha. I will not seale , Sir , I am your eldest , and I le keepe my birthright , For heaven forbid I should become example ; Had y' onely shew'd me Land , I had deliver'd it , And been a proud man to have parted with it ; T is dirt , and labour ; Doe I speake right Uncle ? Mir. Bravely my boy , and blesse thy tongue . Cha. I le forward , But you have open'd to me such a treasure , I finde my minde free , heaven direct my fortune . Mir. Can he speake now ? Is this a sonne to sacrifice ? Cha. Such an inimitable peece of beauty , That I have studied long , and now found onely , That I le part sooner with my soule of reason , And be a plant , a beast , a fish , a flie ; And onely make the number of things up Than yeeld one foot of Land , if she be ty'd to 't . Lew. He speakes unhappily . Ang. And me thinkes bravely , This the meere Scholar ? Eust. You but vexe your selfe brother , And vexe your studie too . Cha. Goe you and studie , For 't is time young Eustace , you want both man and manners , I 've studied both , although I made no shew on 't , Goe turne the Volumes over I have read , Eate and digest them , that they may grow in thee , Weare out the tedious night with thy dimme Lampes And sooner loose the day than leave a doubt , Distill the sweetnesse from the Poets Spring , And learne to love , Thou know'st not what faire is , Traverse the stories of the great Heroes , The wise and civil lives of good men walke through ; Thou hast seene nothing but the face of Countries , And brought home nothing but their empty words : Why should'st thou weare a Jewell of this worth ? That hast no worth within thee to preserve her . Beauty cleere and faire , where the aire Rather like a perfume dwelles , Where the violet and the rose Their blew veines in blush disclose , And come to honour nothing else . Where to live neere , and planted there , Is to live , and still live new , Where to gaine a favour is More than light , perpetuall blisse , Make me live by serving you . Deare againe backe recall , to this light , A stranger to himselfe and all ; Both the wonder and the story Shall be yours , and eke the glory . I am your servant , and your thrall . Mir. Speake such another Ode , and take all yet . What say ye to the Scholar now ? Ang. I wonder ; Is he your brother , Sir ? Eust. Yes , would he were buried , I feare hee 'l make an asse of me a younger . Ang. Speake not so softly Sir , t is very likely . Bri. Come leave your finicall talke , and let 's dispatch , Charles . Cha. Dispatch ? What ? Bri. Why the land . Cha. You are deceiv'd , Sir , Now I perceive what 't is that woes a woman , And what maintaines her when shee 's woo'd . I le stop here . A wilfull poverty nere made a beauty , Nor want of meanes maintain'd it vertuously : Though land and monies be no happinesse , Yet they are counted good Additions . That use I le make , He that neglects a blessing , Though he want present knowledge how to use it , Neglects himselfe ; May be I have done you wrong Lady , Whose love and hope went hand in hand together , May be my brother , that has long expected The happy houre and blest my ignorance : Pray give me leave Sir , I shall cleare all doubts . Why did they shew me you ? Pray tell me that ? ( Mir. Hee 'l talke thee into a pension for thy knavery ) Cha. You happy you , why did you breake unto me ? The rosie sugred morne nere broke so sweetly : I am a man and have desires within me , Affections too , though they were drown'd a while , And lay dead , till the Spring of beauty rais'd them , Till I saw those eyes , I was but a lumpe , A Chaos of confusednesse dwelt in me ; Then from those eyes shot Love , and he distinguisht , And into forme he drew my faculties ; And now I know my Land , and now I love too . Bri. We had best remove the maide . Cha. It is too late Sir , I have her figure here . Nay frowne not Eustace , There are lesse worthy soules for younger brothers , This is no forme of silke but sanctity , Which wilde lascivious hearts can never dignifie . Remove her where you will , I walke along still , For like the light we make no separation ; You may sooner part the billowes of the Sea , And put a barre betwixt their fellowships , Than blot out my remembrance , sooner shut Old time into a den , and stay his motion , Wash off the swift houres from his downy wings , Or steale eternity to stop his glasse , Than shut the sweet Idea I have in me . Roome for an elder brother , pray give place , Sir . Mir. Has studied duell too , take heed , hee 'l beat thee . Has frighted the old Justice into a fever ; I hope hee 'l disinherit him too for an asse ; For though he be grave with yeeres , hee 's a great baby . Cha. Doe not you thinke me mad ? Ang. No certaine , Sir , I have heard nothing from you but things excellent . Cha. You looke upon my clothes and laugh at me , My scurvie clothes ! Ang. They have rich linings Sir . I would your brother — Cha. His are gold and gawdy . Ang. But touch 'em inwardly , they smell of Copper . Cha. Can ye love me ? I am an heire , sweet Lady , However I appeare a poore dependant ; Love you with honour , I shall love so ever : Is your eye ambitious ? I may be a great man . Is 't wealth or lands you covet ? my father must dye . Mir. That was well put in , I hope hee 'll take it deepely . Cha. Old men are not immortall , as I take it , Is it , you looke for , youth and handsomnesse ? I doe confesse my brother 's a handsome Gentleman , But he shall give me leave to lead the way Lady , Can you love for love , and make that the reward ? The old man shall not love his heapes of gold With a more doting superstition , Than I le love you ; The young man his delights , The merchant when he ploughs the angry sea up And sees the mountaine billowes falling on him , As if all Elements , and all their angers Were turn'd into one vow'd destruction ; Shall not with greater joy imbrace his safety . Wee 'll live together like two wanton Vines , Circling out soules and loves in one another , Wee 'll spring together and wee ll beare one fruit , One joy shall make us smile , and one griefe mourne , One age goe with us , and one houre of death Shall shut our eyes , and one grave make us happy . Ang. And one hand seale the match , I me yours for ever . Lew. Nay , stay , stay , stay . Ang. Nay certainly , t is done Sir . Bri. There was a contract . Ang. Onely conditionall , That if he had the Land , he had my love too ; This Gentleman 's the heire , and hee 'll maintaine it . Pray be not angry Sir , at what I say ; Or if you be , t is at your owne adventure . You have the outside of a pretty Gentleman , But by my troth your inside is but barren ; T is not a face I onely am in love with , Nor will I say your face is excellent , A reasonable hunting face to court the winde with ; Nor th' are not words unlesse they be well plac'd too , Nor your sweet Dam mees , nor your hired verses , Nor telling me of Cloathes , nor Coach and horses , No nor your visits each day in new suites , Nor your blacke patches you weare variously , Some cut like starres , some in halfe Moones , some Lozenges , ( All which but shew you still a younger brother . ) Mir. Gramercy Wench thou hast a noble soule too . Ang. Nor your long travailes , nor your little knowledge , Can make me doate upon you . Faith goe study , And gleane some goodnesse , that you may shew manly , Your brother at my suite I me sure will teach you , Or onely study how to get a wife Sir , Y' are cast farre behinde , t is good you should be melancholy , It shewes likes a Gamester that had lost his money , And t is the fashion to weare your arme in a skarfe Sir , For you have had a shrewd cut ore the fingers . Lew. But are y' in earnest ? Ang. Yes , beleeve me father , You shall nere choose for me , y' are old and dimme Sir , And th' shadow of the earth ecclips'd your judgement , Y' have had your time without controwle deare father , And you must give me leave to take mine now Sir . Bri. This is the last time of asking , Will you set your hand too ? Cha. This is the last time of answering , I will never . Bris. Out of my doores . Char. Most willingly . Miram. He shall Jew , Thou of the Tribe of Man-y-asses , Coxcombe , And never trouble thee more till thy chops be cold , foole . Ang. Must I be gone too ? Lew. I will never know thee . Ang. Then this man will , what fortune he shall runne , father , Bee 't good or bad , I must partake it with him . Enter EGREMONT . When shall the Masque beginne ? Eust. T is done already , All , all , is broken off , I am undone friend , My brother's wife againe , and has spoil'd all , Will not release the land , has wonne the Wench too . Egre. Could he not stay till th' Masque was past ? w' are ready . What a skirvie trick 's this ? Mir. O you may vanish , Performe it at some Hall , where the Citizens wives May see 't for sixe pence a peece , and a cold supper . Come let 's goe Charles , And now my noble Daughter , I le sell the tiles of my house ere thou shalt want Wench . Rate up your dinner Sir , and sell it cheape , Some younger brother will take 't up in commodities . Send you joy , Nephew Eustace , if ye study the Law , Keepe your great pippin-pies , they 'l goe farre with yee . Cha. I de have your blessing . Bri. No , no , meet me no more , Farewell , thou wilt blast mine eyes else . Cha. I will not . Lew. Nor send not you for Gownes . Ang. I le weare course flannell first . Bri. Come let 's goe take some counsell . Lew. T is too late . Bri. Then stay and dine , It may be we shall vexe 'em . Exeunt .
Actus 4. Scoena 1. Enter BRISAC , EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY . NEre talke to me , you are no men but Masquers , Shapes , shadowes , and the signes of men , Court bubbles , That every breath or breakes or blowes away , You have no soules , no metall in your bloods , No heat to stirre ye when ye have occasion , Frozen dull things that must bee turn'd with leavers , Are you the Courtiers and the travail'd Gallants ? The spritely fellowes , that the people talke of ? Ye have no more spirit than three sleepy sops . Eust. What would ye have me doe , Sir ? Bri. Follow your brother , And get ye out of doores , and seeke your fortune , Stand still becalm'd , and let an aged Dotard , A haire-brain'd puppy , and a bookish boy , That never knew a blade above a penknife , And how to cut his meat in Characters Crosse my designe , and take thy owne Wench from thee , In mine owne house too ? Thou despis'd poore fellow ! Eust. The reverence that I ever bare to you Sir , Then to my Uncle , with whom 't had been but sawcinesse T' have been so rough — Egre. And we not seeing him Strive in his owne cause , that was principall , And should have led us on ; thought it ill manners To beginne a quarrell here . Bri. You dare doe nothing . Doe you make your care the excuse of your cowardlinesse ? Three boyes on hobby-horses with three penny halberts , Would beate you all . Cow . You must not say so . Bri. Yes , And sing it too . Cow . You are a man of peace , Therefore we must give way . Bri. I le make my way And therefore quickly leave me , or I le force you ; And having first torne off your flaunting feathers , I le trample on 'em ; and if that cannot teach you To quit my house , I le kicke ye out of my gates ; You gawdy glow-wormes carrying seeming fire , Yet have no heat within ye . Cow . O blest travaile ! How much we owe thee for our power to suffer ? Egre. Some spleenative youths now that had never seene More than their Country smoake would grow in choler . It would shew fine in us . Eust. Yes marry would it , That are prime Courtiers , and must know no angers , But give thankes for our injuries , if we purpose To hold our places . Bri. Will you finde the doore ? And finde it suddenly , you shall lead the way , Sir , With your perfumd' retinew , and recover The now lost Angellina , or build on it , I will adopt some beggers doubtfull issue , Before thou shalt inherit . Eust. Wee 'll to councell , And what may be done by mans wit or valour Wee 'll put in execution , Bri. Doe , or never Hope I shall know thee . Le. O Sir , have I found you ? Exeunt . Ent. Lewis . Bri. I never hid my selfe , whence flowes this fury ? With which as it appeares , you come to fright me . Lew. I smell a plot , a meere conspiracy Among ye all to defeate me of my daughter , And if she be not suddenly delivered , Untainted in her reputation too , The best of France shall know how I am juggled with . She is my heire , and if she may be ravisht Thus from my care , farewell Nobility , Honour and bloud are meere neglected nothings . Bri. Nay then , my Lord , you goe too farre , and taxe him Whose innocency understands not what feare is . If your unconstant daughter will not dwell On certainties , must you thenceforth conclude , That I am fickle ? What have I omitted , To make good my integrity and truth ? Nor can her lightnesse , nor your supposition Cast an aspersion on me . Lew. I am wounded In fact , nor can words cure it : doe not trifle , But speedily , once more I doe repeat it , Restore my daughter as I brought her hither , Or you shall heare from me in such a kinde , As you will blush to answer . Bri. All the world I thinke conspires to vexe me , yet I will not Torment my selfe , some spritefull mirth must banish The rage and melancholy which hath almost choak'd me , T' a knowing man t is physicke , and t is thought on , One merry houre I le have in spight of fortune , To cheare my heart , and this is that appointed , This night I le hugge my Lilly in mine armes , Provocatives are sent before to cheare me ; We old men need 'em , and though we pay deare For our stolne pleasures , so it be done securely : The charge much like a sharpe sawce gives 'em relish . Well honest Andrew , I gave you a farme , And it shall have a beacon to give warning To my other Tenants when the Foe approaches ; And presently , you being bestowed elsewhere , I le graffe it with dexterity on your forehead ; Indeed I will Lilly , I come , poore Andrew . Exit .
Actus IV. Scoena II. Enter MIRAMONT , ANDREW . Doe they chase roundly ? And. As they were rubb'd with soape , Sir , And now they sweare alowd , now calme again , Like a ring of bells , whose sound the winde still alters , And then they sit in councell what to doe , And then they jarre againe what shall be done ; They talke of Warrants from the Parliament , Complaints to the King , and forces from the Province , They have a thousand heads in a thousand minutes , Yet nere a one head worth a head of garlicke . Mir. Long may they chafe , and long may we laugh at 'em , A couple of pure puppies yoak'd together . But what sayes the young Courtier Master Eustace , And his two warlike friends ? And. They say but little , How much they thinke I know not , they looke rufully , As if they had newly come from a vaulting house , And had beene quite shot through 'tweene winde and water By a she Dunkirke , and had sprung a leake , Sir . Certaine my master was too blame . Mir. Why Andrew ? And. To take away the Wench o th' sudden from him , And give him no lawfull warning , he is tender , And of a young girles constitution , Sir , Ready to get the greene sicknesse with conceit ; Had he but tane his leave in travailing language , Or bought an Elegie of his condolement , That th' world might have tane notice , he had been An Asse , 't had been some savour . Mir. Thou saist true , Wise Andrew , but those Scholars are such things When they can prattle . And. Very parlous things Sir . Mir. And when they gaine the liberty to distinguish The difference 'twixt a father and a foole , To looke below and spie a younger brother Pruning and dressing up his expectations In a rare glasse of beauty , too good for him : Those dreaming Scholars then turne Tyrants , Andrew , And shew no mercy . And. The more 's the pitie , Sir . Mir. Thou told'st me of a tricke to catch my brother , And anger him a little farther , Andrew . It shall be onely anger I assure thee , And a little shame . And. And I can fit you , Sir ; Harke in your eare . Mir. Thy wife ? And. So I assure ye : This night at twelve a clocke . Mir. T is neat and handsome ; There are twenty Crownes due to thy project Andrew . I 've time to visit Charles , and see what Lecture He reades to his Mistresse . That done , I le not faile To be with you . And. Nor I to watch my Master . — Exeunt .
Actus IV. Scoena III . ANGELLINA , SYLVIA with a taper . I 'me worse than ere I was , for now I feare , That that I love , that that I onely dote on ; He followes me through every roome I passe , And with a strong set eye he gazes on me , As if his sparke of innocence were blowne Into a flame of lust ; Vertue defend me . His Uncle too is absent , and 't is night ; And what these oportunities may teach him — What feare and endlesse care t is to be honest ! To be a maide , what misery , what mischiefe ! Would I were rid of it , so it were fairely . Syl. You need not feare that , will you be a childe still ? He followes you , but still to looke upon you , Or if he did desire to lye with ye , T is but your owne desire , you love for that end ; I le lay my life , if he were now a bed w' ye , He is so modest , he would fall a sleepe straight . Ang. Dare you venter that ? Syl. Let him consent , and have at ye , I feare him not , he knowes not what a woman is , Nor how to finde the mysterie men aime at . Are you afraid of your owne shadow , Madam ? Ang. He followes still , yet with a sober face ; Would I might know the worst , and then I were satisfied . Syl. You may both , and let him but goe with ye . Cha. Why doe you flie me ? what have I so ill About me or within me to deserve it ? Ang. I am going to bed Sir . Cha. And I am come to light ye , I am a maide , and 't is a maidens office ; You may have me to bed without a scruple , And yet I am chary too who comes about me . Two Innocents should not feare one another . Syl. The Gentleman sayes true . Plucke up your heart , Madam . Cha. The glorious Sunne both rising and declining We boldly looke upon , even then sweet Lady , When like a modest bride he drawes nights curtaines , Even then he blushes , that men should behold him . Ang. I feare he will perswade me to mistake him . Syl. T is easily done , if you will give your minde to 't . Ang. Pray ye to your bed . Cha. Why not to yours , deare Mistresse ? One heart and one bed . Ang. True Sir , when t is lawfull : But yet you know — Cha. I would not know , forget it ; Those are but sickly loves that hang on Ceremony , Nurst up with doubts and feares , ours high and healthfull , Full of beleefe , and fit to teach the Priest ; Love should seale first , then hands confirme the bargaine . Ang. I shall be an Heretique if this continue . What would you doe a bed ? you make me blush , Sir . Cha. I de see you sleepe , for sure your sleepes are excellent : You that are waking such a noted wonder , Must in your slumbers prove an admiration : I would behold your dreames too , if 't were possible ; Those were rich showes . Ang. I am becomming Traitor . Cha. Then like blew Neptune courting of an Iland , Where all the perfumes and the pretious things That waite upon great Nature are laid up . I de clip it in mine armes , and chastly kisse it , Dwell in your bosome like your dearest thoughts , And sigh and weepe . Ang. I 've too much woman in me . Cha. And those true teares falling on your pure Chrystalls Should turne to armelets for great Queenes t' adore . Ang. I must be gone . Cha. Doe not , I will not hurt ye ; This is to let you know , my worthiest Lady , Y' have clear'd my minde , and I can speake of love too ; Feare not my manners , though I never knew Before these few houres what a beauty was , And such a one that fires all hearts that feele it ; Yet I have read of vertuous temperance , And studied it among my other secrets , And sooner would I force a separation Betwixt this spirit , and the case of flesh , Than but conceive one rudenesse against chastity . Ang. Then we may walke . Cha. And talke of any thing , Any thing fit for your eares ; and my language , Though I was bred up dull I was ever civill ; T is true , I have found it hard to looke on you , And not desire , T will prove a wise mans taske , Yet those desires I have so mingled still And tempered with the quality of honour , That if you should yeeld , I should hate you for 't . I am no Courtier of a light condition , Apt to take fire at every beautious face , That onely serves his will and wantonnesse , And lets the serious part of life runne by As thin neglected sand . Whitenesse of name , You must be mine ; why should I robbe my selfe Of that that lawfully must make me happy ? Why should I seeke to cuckold my delights ? And widow all those sweets I aime at in you ? Wee 'll loose our selves in Venus groves of mirtle , Where every little bird shall be a Cupid , And sing of love and youth , each winde that blowes And curles the velvet leaves shall breed delights , The wanton springs shall call us to their bankes , And on the perfum'd flowers wee 'll feast our senses , Yet wee 'll walke by untainted of their pleasures , And as they were pure Temples wee 'll make in them . Ang. To bed , and pray then , we may have a faire end Of our faire loves ; would I were worthy of you , Or of such parents that might give you thankes : But I am poore in all but in your love . Once more , good night . Cha. A good night t' yee , and may The deaw of sleepe fall gently on you , sweet one , And locke up those faire lights in pleasing slumbers ; No dreames but chaste and cleare attempt your fancie , And breake betimes sweet morne , I 've lost my light else . Ang. Let it be ever night when I lose you . Syl. This Scholar never went to a Free-Schoole , hee 's so simple . Enter a servant Ser. Your brother with two Gallants is at doore , Sir , And they 're so violent , they 'l take no deniall . Ang. This is no time of night . Cha. Let 'em in mistresse . Serv. They stay no leave ; Shall I raise the house on 'em ? Cha. Not a man , nor make no murmur of 't , I charge ye . Enter EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY . Th' are here , my Uncle absent , stand close to me . How doe you brother with your curious story ? Have you not read her yet sufficiently ? Cha. No , brother , no , I stay yet in the Preface ; The stile 's too hard for you . Eust. I must entreat her , Shee 's parcell of my goods . Cha. Shee 's all when you have her . Ang. Hold off your hands , unmannerly , rude Sir ; Nor I , nor what I have depend on you . Cha. Doe , let her alone , she gives good counsell ; doe not Trouble your selfe with Ladies , they are too light ; Let out your land , and get a provident Steward . Ang. I cannot love ye , let that satisfie you ; Such vanities as you are to be laught at . Eust. Nay , then you must goe , I must claime mine owne . Both . Away , away with her . Cha. Let her alone , She strikes off eustace's hat . Pray let her alone , and take your coxcombe up : Let me talke civilly a while with you brother , It may be on some tearmes I may part with her . Eust. O , is your heart come downe ? what are your tearmes , Sir ? Put up , put up . Cha. This is the first and chiefest , Snatches away his sword . Let 's walke a turne ; now stand off fooles , I advise ye , Stand as farre off as you would hope for mercy : This is the first sword yet I ever handled , And a sword 's a beauteous thing to looke upon , And if it hold , I shall so hunt your insolence : T is sharpe I ' me sure , and if I put it home , T is ten to one I shall new pinke your Sattins : I finde I have spirit enough to dispose of it , And will enough to make ye all examples ; Let me tosse it round , I have the full command on 't : Fetch me a native Fencer , I defie him ; I feele the fire of ten strong spirits in me . Doe you watch me when my Uncle is absent ? This is my griefe , I shall be flesht on Cowards ; Teach me to fight , I willing am to learne . Are ye all gilded Flies , nothing but shew in ye ? Why stand ye gaping ? who now touches her ? Who calles her his , or who dares name her to me ? But name her as his owne , who dares looke on her ? That shall be mortall too ; but thinke , 't is dangerous . Art thou a fit man to inherit land , And hast no wit nor spirit to maintaine it ? Stand still thou signe of man , and pray for thy friends , Pray heartily , good prayers may restore ye . Ang. But doe not kill 'em Sir . Cha. You speake too late , Deare , It is my first fight , and I must doe bravely , I must not looke with partiall eyes on any ; I cannot spare a button of these Gentlemen ; Did life lye in their heele Achilles like , I de shoot my anger at those parts and kill 'em . Who waits within ? Ser. Sir . Cha. View all these , view 'em well , Goe round about 'em and still view their faces , Round about yet , See how death waites upon 'em , For thou shalt never view 'em more . Eust. Pray hold , Sir . Cha. I cannot hold you stand so faire before me , I must not hold 't will darken all my glories . Goe to my Uncle , bid him poste to the King , And get my pardon instantly , I have need on 't . Eust. Are you so unnaturall ? Cha. You shall dye last Sir , I le talke thee dead , thou art no man to fight with . Come , will ye come ? me thinkes I 've fought whole battailes . Cow . We have no quarrell to you , that we know on , Sir . Egre. Wee 'll quit the house and aske ye mercy too : Good Lady , let no murther be done here ; We came but to parly . Cha. How my sword Thirsts after them ? stand away Sweet . Eust. Pray Sir , Take my submission , and I disclaime for ever . Cha. Away ye poore things , ye despicable Creatures ! Doe you come poste to fetch a Lady from me , From a poore Schoole-boy that ye scorn'd of late ? And grow lame in your hearts when you should execute ? Pray take her , take her , I am weary of her ; What did ye bring to carry her ; Egre. A Coach and foure horses . Cha. But are they good ? Egre. As good as France can shew Sir . Cha. Are you willing to leave those , and take your safeties ? Speake quickly . Eust. Yes with all our hearts . Cha. T is done them Many have got one horse , I 've got foure by th' bargaine . Enter MIRAMONT . Mi. How now , who 's here ? Ser. Nay now , y' are gone without baile . Mir. What , drawne my friends ? Fetch me my two-hand sword ; I will not leave a head on your shoulders , Wretches . Eust. In truth Sir , I came but to doe my duty . Both . And we to renew our loves . Mir. Bring me a blanket . What came they for ? Ang. To borrow me a while , Sir ; But one that never fought yet has so curried , So bastinado'd them with manly carriage , They stand like things Gorgon had turn'd to stone : They watch'd your being absent , and then thought They might doe wonders here , and they have done so ; For by my troth , I wonder at their coldnesse , The nipping North or frosts never came neere them , St. George upon a Signe would grow more sensible : If the name of honour were for ever to be lost , These were the most sufficient men to doe it In all the world , and yet they are but young , What wil they rise to ? They 're as full of fire As a frozen Glo-wormes tailes , and shine as goodly ; Nobility and patience are match'd rarely In these three Gentlemen , they have right use on 't ; They 'll stand still for an houre and be beaten . These are the Anagrammes of three great Worthies . Mir. They will infect my house with cowardize , If they breathe longer in it ; my roofe covers No baffl'd Monsieurs , walke and aire your selves ; As I live , they stay not here , white liver'd wretches ! Without one word to aske a reason why , Vanish , 't is the last warning , and with speed , For if I take ye in hand I shall dissect you , And reade upon your flegmaticke dull carcases . My horse againe there : I have other businesse , Which you shall heare hereafter and laugh at it . Good night Charles , faire goodnesse to you deare Lady . T is late , 't is late . Ang. Pray Sir be carefull of us . Mir. It is enough , my best care shall attend ye . Exeunt .
Actus IV. Scoena IV. Enter ANDREW . Are you come old Master ? very good , your horse Is well set up , but ere ye part ; I le ride you And spurre your reverend Justiceship such a question , As I shall make the sides o' your reputation bleed , Truely I will . Now must I play at Bo-peepe — A banquet — well , Potatoes and Eringoes , And as I take it , Cantharides , — Excellent , A priapisme followes , and as I le handle it , It shall old lecherous Goate in authority . Now they beginne to bill ; how he slavers her . Gramercy Lilly , she spits his kisses out , And now he offers to fumble she falles off , ( That 's a good Wench ) and cries faire play above boord . Who are they in the corner ? As I live , A covey of Fidlers ; I shall have some musicke yet At my making free o th' Company of Horners ; There 's the comfort , and a song too ! He beckons for one — Sure 't is no Anthem nor no borrowed rhymes Out of the Schoole of vertue ; I will listen — A song . This was never penn'd at Geneva , the note 's too spritely . So , so , the musicke 's paid for , and now what followes ? O that Monsieur Miramont would but keepe his word , Here were a feast to make him fat with laughter , At the most 't is not sixe minutes riding from his house , Nor will he breake I hope — O are you come Sir ? The prey is in the net and will breake in Upon occasion . Mir. Thou shalt rule me Andrew . O th' infinite fright that will assaile this Gentleman ! The quarterns , tertians , and quotidians That will hang like Sergeants on his worships shoulders ! The humiliation of the flesh of this man ! This grave austere man will be wondred at . How will those solemne lookes appeare to me , And that severe face , that spake chaines and shackles ? Now I take him in the nicke , ere I' done with him , He had better have stood betweene two panes of wainscot And made his recantation in the market , Than heare me conjure him . And. He must passe this way , To th' onely bed I have , he comes , stand close . Bri. Well done , well done , give me my nightcap . So , Quicke , quicke , untrusse me ; I will trusse and trounce thee ; Come Wench a kisse betweene each point ; kisse close ; It is a sweet Parenthesis . Lil. Y' are merry Sir . Bri. Merry I will be anon , and thou shalt feele it , Thou shalt my Lilly Lil. Shall I aire your bed , Sir ? Bri. No , no , I le use no warming pan but thine , Girle ; That 's all ; Come kisse me againe . Lil. Ha' ye done yet ? Bri. No , but I will doe , and doe wonders , Lilly . Shew me the way . Lil. You cannot misse it , Sir ; You shall have a Cawdle in the morning , for Your worships breakfast . Bri. How , i th' morning Lilly ? Th' art such a witty thing to draw me on . Leave fooling , Lilly , I am hungry now , And th' hast another Kickshaw , I must taste it . Lil. T will make you surfet , I am tender of you , Y' have all y' are like to have . And. Can this be earnest ? Mir. It seemes so and she honest . Bri. Have I not Thy promise Lilly ? Lil. Yes , and I have performed Enough to a man of your yeares , this is truth , And you shall finde Sir , you have kist and tows'd me , Handled my legge and foote , what would you more , Sir ? As for the rest , it requires youth and strength , And th' labour in an old man would breed Agues , Sciaticaes , and Cramps ; you shall not curse me , For taking from you what you cannot spare , Sir : Be good unto your selfe , y' have tane already All you can take with ease ; you are past threshing , It is a worke too boisterous for you , leave Such drudgery to Andrew . Mir. How she jeeres him ? Lil Let Andrew alone with his owne tillage , Hee 's tough , and can manure it . Bri. Y' are a queane , A scoffing jeering queane . Lil. It may be so , but I 'me sure , I le nere be yours . Bri. Doe not provoke me , If thou do'st , I le have my Farme againe , and turne Thee out a begging . Lil. Though you have the will , And want of honesty to deny your Deed , Sir , Yet I hope Andrew has got so much learning From my young Master , as to keepe his owne ; At the worst , I le tell a short tale to the Judges , For what grave ends you sign'd your Lease , and on What tearmes you would revoke it . Bri. Whore , thou dar'st not . Yeeld or I le have thee whipt ; How my bloud boiles , As if 't were ore a furnace ! Mir. I shall coole it . Bri. Yet gentle Lilly , pitie and forgive me , I le be a friend t' ye , such a loving bountifull friend — Lil. To avoid suites in Law , I would grant a little , But should fierce Andrew know it , what would become Of me ? And. A whore , a whore . Bri. Nothing but well , Wench , I will put such a strong bit in his mouth As thou shalt ride him how thou wilt , my Lilly : Nay , he shall hold the doore , as I will worke him , And thanke thee for the Office . Mir. Take heed Andrew , These are shrewd temptations . And. Pray you know Your Cue , and second me Sir ; By your Worships favour . Bri. Andrew ! And. I come in time to take possession Of th' office you assigne me ; hold the doore , Alas 't is nothing for a simple man To stay without when a deepe understanding Holds conference within , say with his wife a A trifle Sir , I know I hold my farme . In Cuckolds Tenure ; you are Lord o' the soyle Sir , Lilly is a West , a Stray , shee 's yours , to use Sir , I claime no interest in her . Bri. Art thou serious ? Speake honest Andrew since thou hast ore heard us , And winke at small faults , man ; I 'me but a pidler , A little will serve my turne , thou 'lt finde enough When I 've my belly full ; wilt thou be private And silent ? And. By all meanes , I le onely have A Ballad made of 't , sung to some lewd Tune , And the name of it shall be Justice Trap , It will sell rarely with your Worships name , And Lillies on the toppe . Bri. Seeke not the ruine O' my reputation , Andrew . And. T is for your credit , Monsieur Brisac printed in capitall letters , Then pasted upon all the posts in Paris . Bri. No mercy , Andrew ? And. O , it will proclaime you From th' Citie to the Court , and prove sport royall . Bri. Thou shalt keepe thy Farme . Mir. He does afflict him rarely . And. You trouble me . Then his intent arriving , The vizard of his hypocrisie pull'd off To the Judge criminall . Bri. O , I am undone . And. Hee 's put out of Commission with disgrace , And held uncapable of bearing Office Ever hereafter . This is my revenge , And this I le put in practice . Bri. Doe but heare me . And. To bring me backe from my Grammar to my Horne-booke , It is unpardonable . Bri. Doe not play the Tyrant ; Accept of composition . Lil. Heare him , Andrew . And. What composition ? Bri. I le confirme thy farme , And adde unto 't an hundred acres more Adjoyning to it . And. Umb , This mollifies , But y' are so fickle , and will againe deny this , There being no witnesse by . Bri. Call any witnesse , I le presently assure it . And. Say you so , Troth there 's a friend of mine Sir , within hearing , That is familiar with all that 's past , His testimony will be authenticall . Bri. Will he be secret ? And. You may tye his tongue up , As you would doe your purse-strings . Br. Miramont . M. Ha , ha , ha . And. This is my witnesse . Lord how you are troubled ? Sure , y' have an ague , you shake so with choler ; Hee 's your loving brother Sir , and will tell no body But all he meets , that you have eate a snake , And are growne young , game some , and rampant . Bri. Caught thus ? And. If he were one that would make jests of you , Or plague ye with making your religious gravity Ridiculous to your neighbours , Then you had Some cause to be perplex'd . Bri. I shall become Discourse for Clownes and Tapsters . And. Quicke , Lilly , quicke . Hee 's now past kissing , betweene point and point . He swounds , fetch him some Cordiall — Now put in Sir . Mir. Who may this be ? sure this is some mistake : Let me see his face , weares he not a false beard ? It cannot be Brisac that worthy Gentleman , The pillar and the patron of his Country ; He is too prudent and too cautelous , Experience hath taught him t' avoid these fooleries , He is the punisher and not the doer , Besides hee 's old and cold , unfit for women ; This is some Counterfeit , he shall be whipt for 't , Some base abuser of my worthy brother . Bri. Open the doores , will y' imprison me ? are ye my Judges ? Mir. The man raves This is not judicious Brisac : Yet now I thinke on 't , a' has a kinde of dog looke Like my brother , a guilty hanging face . Bri. I le suffer bravely , doe your worst , doe , doe . Mir. Why , it 's manly in you . Bri. Nor will I raile nor curse , You slave , you whore , I will not meddle with you , But all the torment that ere fell on men , That fed on mischiefe , fall heavily on you all . Exit . Lil. You have giv'n him a heat , Sir . Mir. He will ride you The better , Lilly . And. Wee 'll teach him to meddle with Scholars . Mir. He shall make good his promise t' encrease thy Farme , Andrew , Or I le jeere him to death , feare nothing Lilly , I am thy Champion . This jeast goes to Charles , And then I le hunt him out , and Monsieur Eustace The gallant Courtier , and laugh heartily To see 'em mourne together . And. T will be rare Sir . Exeunt .
Actus 5. Scoena 1. EUSTACE , EGREMONT , COWSY . Turn'd out of doores and baffled ! Egre. We share with you In the affront . Cow . Yet beare it not like you With such dejection . Eust. My Coach and horses made The ransome of our cowardize . Cow . Pish , that 's nothing , T is Damnum reparabile , and soone recover'd . Egre. It is but feeding a suitor with false hopes , And after squeeze him with a dozen of oathes . You are new rigg'd , and this no more remembred . Eust. And does the Court that should be the example And Oracle of the Kingdome , reade to us No other doctrine . Egre. None that thrives so well As that , within my knowledge . Cow . Flatt'ry rubbes out , But since great men learne to admire themselves , T is something crest-falne . Egre. To be of no Religion , Argues a subtle morall understanding , And it is often cherisht . Eust. Piety then , And valour , nor to doe nor suffer wrong , Are there no vertues . Egre. Rather vices , Eustace ; Fighting ! What 's fighting ? It may be in fashion , Among Provant swords , and buffe-jerkin men : But w' us that swimme in choise of silkes and Tissues ; Though in defence of that word reputation , Which is indeed a kinde of glorious nothing , To lose a dramme of bloud must needs appeare As coarse as to be honest . Eust. And all this You seriously beleeve . Cow . It is a faith , That we will die in , since from the blacke guard To the grimme Sir in office , there are few Hold other Tenets . Eust. Now my eyes are open , And I behold a strong necessity That keepes me knave and coward . Cow . Y' are the wiser . Eust. Nor can I change my Copy , if I purpose To be of your society . Egre. By no meanes . Eust. Honour is nothing with you ? Cow . A meere bubble , For what 's growne common is no more regarded . Eust. My sword forc'd from me too , and still detein'd , You thinke's no blemish . Egre. Get me a battoone , T is twenty times more courtlike , and lesse trouble . Eust. And yet you weare a sword . Cow . Yes , and a good one , A Millan hilt , and a Damasco blade , For ornament , no use the Court allowes it . Eust. Wil 't not fight of it selfe ? Cow . I nere tri'd this , Yet I have worne as faire as any man , I 'me sure I 've made my Cutler rich , and paid For severall weapons , Turkish and Toledo's , Two thousand Crownes , and yet could never light Upon a fighting one . Eust. I le borrow this , I like it well . Cow . T is at your service Sir , A lath in a velvet scabberd will serve my turne . Eust. And now I have it , leave me , y' are infectious , The plague and leprosie of your basenesse spreading On all that doe come neere you , such as you Render the Throne of Majesty , the Court Suspected and contemptible , you are Scarabee's That batten in her dung , and have no pallats To taste her curious viands , and like Owles Can onely see her night deformities , But with the glorious splendor of her beauties You are strucke blinde as Moles , that undermine The sumptuous building that allow'd you shelter , You sticke like running ulcers on her face , And taint the purenesse of her native candor , And being bad servants cause your masters goodnesse To be disputed of ; make you the Court That is the abstract of all Academies , To teach and practice noble undertakings ( Where courage sits triumphant crown'd with Lawrell , And wisedome loaded with the weight of honour ) A Schoole of vices . Egre. What sudden rapture 's this ? Eust. A heavenly one that raising me from sloth and ignorance , ( In which your coversation long hath charm'd me ) Carries me up into the aire of action , And knowledge of my selfe ; even now I feele But pleading onely in the Courts-defence , ( Though farre short of her merits and bright lustre ) A happy alteration , and full strength To stand her Champion against all the world , That throw aspersions on her . Cow . Sure hee 'll beat us , I see it in his eyes . Egre. A second Charles ; Pray looke not Sir so furiously . Eust. Recant What you have said , ye Mungrils , and licke up The vomit you have cast upon the Court , Where you unworthily have had warmth and breeding , And sweare that you like Spiders , have made poyson Of that which was a saving antidote . Egre. We will sweare any thing . Cow . We honour the Court As a most sacred place . Egre. And will make oath , If you enjoyne us to 't , nor knave , nor foole , Nor Coward living in it . Eust. Except you two , You Rascals ! Cow . Yes , we are all these , and more , If you will have it so . Eust. And that untill You are againe reform'd and growne new men , You nere presume to name the Court , or presse Into the Porters Lodge but for a penance , To be disciplin'd for your roguery , and this done With true contrition . Both . Yes Sir . Eust. You againe , May eat scraps and be thankfull . Cow . Here 's a cold breakfast After a sharpe nights walking . Eust. Keepe your oathes , And without grumbling vanish . Both . We are gone , Sir . Exeunt . Eust. May all the poorenesse of my spirit goe with you , The fetters of my thraldome are fil'd off : And I at liberty to right my selfe , And though my hope in Angellina's little , My honour ( unto which compar'd shee 's nothing ) Shall like the Sunne disperse those lowring Clouds , That yet obscure and dimme it ; not the name Of brother shall divert me , but from him , That in the worlds opinion ruin'd me , I will seeke reparation , and call him Unto a strict accompt . Ha! 't is neere day , And if the Muses friend rose-cheek'd Aurora , Invite him to this solitary grove , As I much hope she will , he seldome missing To pay his vowes here to her , I shall hazard To hinder his devotions — The doore opens . — Enter Charles . T is he most certaine , and by 's side my sword , Blest opportunity . Cha. I have oreslept my selfe , And lost part of the morne , but I le recover it : Before I went to bed , I wrote some notes Within my Table-booke , which I will now consider . Ha! What meanes this ? What doe I with a sword ? Learn'd Mercurie needs not th' aide of Mars , and innocence Is to it selfe a guard , yet since armes ever Protect arts , I may justly weare and use it , For since 't was made my prize , I know not how I 'me growne in love with 't , and cannot eate nor study , And much lesse walke without it : but I trifle , Matters of more weight aske my judgement . Eust. Now Sir , Treate of no other Theme , I le keepe you to it , And see y' expound it well . Cha. Eustace ! Eust. The same Sir , Your younger brother , who as duty bindes him , Hath all this night ( turn'd out of doores ) attended , To bid good morrow t' ye . Cha. This not in scorne , Commands me to returne it , Would you ought else ? Eust. O much , Sir , here I end not , but beginne ; I must speake to you in another straine , Than yet I ever us'd , and if the language Appeare in the delivery rough and harsh , You ( being my Tutor ) must condemne your selfe , From whom I learn'd it . Cha. When I understand ( Bee 't in what stile you please ) what 's your demand , I shall endeavour in the selfe same phrase To make an answer to the point . Eust. I come not To lay claime to your birthright , 't is your owne , And 't is fit you enjoy it , nor aske I from you Your learning and deepe knowledge ; ( though I am not A Scholar as you are ) I know them Diamonds By your sole industry , patience and labour Forc'd from steepe rockes and with much toile attended , And but to few , that prize their value granted , And therefore without rivall freely weare them . Cha. These not repin'd at ( as you seeme t' enforme me ) The motion must be of a strange condition , If I refuse to yeeld to 't , therefore Eustace , Without this tempest in your lookes propound it , And feare not a deniall . Eust. I require then , ( As from an enemy and not a brother ) The reputation of a man , the honour , Not by a faire warre wonne when I was waking , But in my sleepe of folly ravish'd from me , With these , the restitution of my sword , With large acknowledgement of satisfaction , My Coach , my Horses , I will part with life , Ere lose one haire of them , and what concludes all , My Mistresse Angellina , as she was Before the musicall Magicke of thy tongue Inchanted and seduc'd her . These perform'd , And with submission , and done publiquely At my Fathers and my Uncles intercession , ( That I put in too ) I perhaps may listen To tearmes of reconcilement ; but if these In every circumstance are not subscrib'd to , To th' last gaspe I defie thee . Cha. These are strict Conditions to a brother . Eust. My rest is up , Nor will I give lesse . Cha. I 'me no Gamester , Eustace , Yet I can guesse your resolution stands To winne or lose all ; I rejoyce to finde ye Thus tender of your honour , and that at length You understand what a wretched thing you were , How deepely wounded by your selfe , and made Almost incureable , in your owne hopes The dead flesh of pale cowardise growing over Your festred reputation , which no balme Or gentle unguent ever could make way to , And I am happy , that I was the Surgeon , That did apply those burning corrosives That render you already sensible O th' danger you were plung'd in , teaching you , And by a faire gradation , how farre And with what curious respect and care The peace and credit of a man within , ( Which you were thought till now ) should be preferr'd Before a gawdy outside , pray you fixe here , For so farre I goe with you . Eust. This discourse Is from the subject . Cha. I le come to it brother , But if you thinke to build upon my ruines , You 'll finde a false foundation , your high offers Taught by the masters of dependancies , That by compounding differences 'tweene others Supply their owne necessities , with me Will never carry 't ; As you are my brother , I would dispence a little , but no more Than honour can give way to ; nor must I Destroy that in my selfe I love in you , And therefore let not hopes nor threats perswade you , I will descend to any composition , For which I may be censur'd . Eust. You shall fight then . Cha. With much unwillingnesse with you , but if There 's no evasion — Eust. None . Cha. Heare yet a word , As for the sword and other fripperies , In a faire way send for them , you shall have 'em , But rather than surrender Angellina , Or heare it againe mention'd , I oppose My breast unto lowd thunder , cast behinde me All ties of Nature . Eust. She detein'd , I 'me deafe To all perswasion . Cha. Guard thy selfe then Eustace , I use no other Rhetoricke . Enter Miram. Mir. Clashing of swords So neere my house ? brother oppos'd to brother ! Here is no fencing at halfe-sword , hold , hold , Charles , Eustace . Eust. Second him , or call in more helpe , Come not betweene us , I le not know nor spare you ; D' ye fight by th' booke ? Cha. T is you that wrong me , off Sir , And suddenly I le conjure downe the spirit That I have raised in him . Eust. Never Charles , Till thine , and in thy death , be doubled in me . Mir. I 'me out of breath , yet trust not too much to 't boyes , For if you pawse not suddenly , and heare reason . Doe , kill your Uncle , doe , but that I 'me patient , And not a cholericke old teasty foole , Like your father , I de daunce a matachin with you , Should make you sweat your best blood for 't , I would , And it may be I will , Charles I command thee , And Eustace I entreat thee , th' art a brave Sparke , A true tough metal'd blade , and I beginne To love thee heartily , give me a fighting Courtier , I le cherish him for example ; in our age Th' are not borne every day . Cha. You of late Sir , In me lov'd learning . Mir. True , but take me w' ye , Charles , T was when young Eustace wore his heart in 's breeches , And fought his battailes in Complements and Cringes , When 's understanding wav'd in a flaunting feather , And his best contemplation look'd no further Than a new fashion'd doublet , I confesse then The lofty noise your Greeke made onely pleas'd me , But now hee 's turn'd an Oliver and a Rowland , Nay the whole dozen of peeres are bound up in him ; Let me remember , when I was of his yeeres I did looke very like him , and did you see My picture as I was then , you would sweare That gallant Eustace , ( I meane , now he dares fight ) Was the true substance and the perfect figure . Nay , nay , no anger , you shall have enough Charles . Cha. Sure Sir , I shall not need addition from him . Eust. Nor I from any , this shall decide my interest , Though I am lost to all deserving men , To all that men call good , for suffering tamely Insufferable wrongs , and justly sleighted , By yeelding to a minute of delay In my revenge , and from that made a stranger Unto my fathers house and favour , one wholm'd With all disgraces , yet I will mount upward , And force my selfe a fortune , though my birth And breeding doe deny it . Cha. Seeke not Eustace , By violence what will be offered to you , On easier composition ; though I was not Allied unto your weaknesse , you shall finde me A brother to your bravery of spirit , And one that not compell'd to 't by your sword , ( Which I must never feare ) will share with you , In all but Angellina . Mir. Nobly said Charles , And learne from my experience , you may heare reason And never maime your fighting ; for your credit Which you thinke you have lost , spare Charles and swinge me , And soundly ; three or foure walking velvet cloakes . That weare no swords to guard 'em , yet deserve it , Thou art made up againe . Eust. All this is lip-salve . Mir. It shall be Hearts-ease , Eustace , ere I 've done ; As for thy fathers anger , now thou dar'st fight , Nere feare 't , for I 've the dowcets of his gravity Fast in a string , and will so pinch and wring him , That spight of his authority , thou shalt make Thine owne conditions with him . Eust. I le take leave A little to consider . Cha. Here comes Andrew . Mir. But without his Comicall and learned face , What sad disaster , Andrew ? And. You may reade Sir , A Tragedy in my face . Mir. Art thou in earnest ? And. Yes , by my life Sir , and if now you helpe not , And speedily by force or by persuasion , My good old Master ( for now I pitie him ) is Ruin'd for ever . Cha. Ha , my father ! And. He Sir . Mir. By what meanes ? speake . And. At the suite of Monsieur Lewis , His house is seiz'd upon , and he in person Is under guard , ( I saw it with these eyes Sir ) To be convey'd to Paris , and there sentenc'd . Mir. Nay , then there is no jesting . Cha. Doe I live , And know my father injur'd ? And. And what 's worse Sir , My Lady Angellina — Eust. What of her ? And. Shee 's carryed away too . Mir. How ? And. While you were absent , A crew of Monsieur Lewis friends and kinsmen By force brake in at th' backe part of the house And tooke her away by violence , faithfull Andrew , ( As this can witnesse for him ) did his best , In her defence , but 't would not doe . Mir. Away , And see our horses sadled , 't is no time To talke , but doe : Eustace , you now are offer'd A spatious field , and in a pious warre To exercise you valour , here 's a cause , And such a one , in which to fall is honourable , Your duty and reverence due to a fathers name Commanding it ; but these unnaturall jarres Arising betweene brothers ( should you prosper ) Would shame your victory . Eust. I would doe much Sir , But still my reputation ! Mir. Charles shall give you All decent satisfaction ; nay , joyne hands , And heartily ; why this is done like brothers ; And old as I am , in this cause that concernes The honour of our family , Monsieur Lewis ( If reason cannot worke ) shall finde and feele There 's hot blood in this arme , I le lead you bravely . Eust. And if I follow not , a Cowards name Be branded on my forehead . Cha. This spirit makes you A sharer in my fortunes . Mir. And in mine , Of which ( Brisac once freed , and Angellina Againe in our possession ) you shall know My heart speakes in my tongue . Eust. I dare not doubt it , Sir . Exeunt
Actus V. Scoena II. Enter LEWIS , BRISAC , ANGELLINA , SYLVIA , Officers . Lew. I 'me deafe to all perswasion . Bri. I use none , Nor doubt I , though a while my innocence suffers , But when the King shall understand how falsely Your malice hath inform'd him , he in justice Must set me right againe . Ang. Sir , let not passion So farre transport you as to thinke in reason , This violent course repaires , but ruines it ; That honour you would build up you destroy ; What you would seeme to nourish , if respect Of my preferment or my reputation May challenge your paternall love and care , Why doe you , now good fortune has provided A better husband for me than your hopes Could ever fancy , strive to robbe me of him ? In what is my Lord Charles defective , Sir ? Unlesse deepe learning be a blemish in him , Or well proportion'd limbs be mulcts in Nature , Or what you onely aim'd at large revenewes , Are on the sudden growne distastfull to you ? Of what can you accuse him ? Lew. Of a rape Done to honour , which thy ravenous lust Made thee consent to . Syl. Her lust ! you are her father . Lew. And you her Bawd . Syl. Were you ten Lords , 't is false , The purenesse of her chaste thoughts entertaine not Such spotted instruments . Ang. As I have a soule Sir . Lew. I am not to be alter'd , to sit downe With this disgrace would argue me a Peasant , And not borne noble : all rigour that the Law And that encrease of power by favour yeelds , Shall be with all severity inflicted ; You have the Kings hand for 't ; no Bayle will serve , And therefore at your perils Officers , away with 'em . Bri. This is madnesse . Lew. Tell me so in open Court , And there I le answer you . Enter Mir. Char. Eust. Andrew . Mir. Well overtaken . Cha. Ill if they dare resist . Eust. He that advances But one step forward dies . L. Shew the Kings Writ . Mir. Shew your discretion , 't will become you better . Cha. Y' are once more in my power , and if againe I part with you , let me for ever lose thee . Eust. Force will not do 't nor threats , accept this service From your despair'd of Eustace . And. And beware Your reverend Worship never more attempt To search my Lilly-pot , you see what followes . Lew. Is the Kings power contemn'd ? Mir. No , but the torrent O' your wilfull folly stopp'd . And for you , good Sir , If you would but be sensible , what can you wish But the satisfaction of an obstinate will , That is not indear'd to you ? rather than Be cross'd in what you purpos'd , you 'll undoe Your daughters fame , the credit of your judgement , And your old foolish neighbour ; make your states , And in a suite not worth a Cardecue , A prey to Advocates , and their buckram Scribes , And after they have plum'd ye , returne home Like a couple of naked Fowles without a feather . Cha. This is a most strong truth Sir . Mir. No , no , Monsieur , Let us be right Frenchmen , violent to charge , But when our follies are repell'd by reason , T is fit that we retreat and nere come on more : Observe my learned Charles , hee 'll get thee a Nephew On Angellina shall dispute in her belly , And sucke the Nurse by Logicke : and here 's Eustace , He was an Asse , but now is growne an Amadis ; Nor shall he want a Wife , if all my land For a joynture can effect it : Y' are a good Lord , And of a gentle nature , in your lookes I see a kinde consent , and it shewes lovely ; And doe you heare old Foole ? but I le not chide , Hereafter like me , ever doate on learning , The meere beleefe is excellent , 't will save you ; And next love valour though you dare not fight Your selfe , or fright a foolish Officer , young Eustace Can doe it to a haire . And to conclude , Let Andrew's Farme b' encreas'd , that is your penance , You know for what , and see you rut no more , You understand me , So embrace on all sides . I le pay those Billmen , and make large amends ; Provided we preserve you still our friends . — Exeunt .
Epilogue . T Is not the hands , or smiles , or common way of approbation to a well-lik'd Play , We onely hope ; But that you freely would To th' Authour's memory , so farre unfold , And shew your loves and liking to his wit , Not in your praise , but often seeing it ; That being the grand assurance that can give The Poet and the Player meanes to live . FINIS .
Machine-generated castlist A00960-brisac 125 A00960-charles 122 A00960-andrew 100 A00960-miramont 91 A00960-eustace 81 A00960-lewis 58 A00960-angelina 55 A00960-cowsy 24 A00960-egremont 22 A00960-sylvia 14 A00960-lilly 12 A00960-cook 11 A00960-butler 9 A00960-notary 6 A00960-both 4 A00960-servant 4 A00960-prologue 1 A00960-multiple 1
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kitehin yet feare not Sonnes oth' the buttry , and kitchin , though his learn'd stomacke Cannot b' ca●e In our care To manage worldly businesse , you must part S●●● and thy brother , They shall not share a Solz of mine betweene them ; Nay more , Ile give Ex ' Lent Ex'Lent , good cheere Andrew . apaco Doe , speake apace , for we beleeve exactly : Doe not we stay affe would he were buried , I feare hee'l make an asse of me a younger . saift Thou saist true , Wise Andrew , but those Scholars Queenest Chrystalls Should turne to armelets for great Queenes t'adore . adore Should turne to armelets for great Queenes t'adore . cuekold must make me happy ? Why should I seeke to cuckold my delights ? And widow all those sweets diffect speed , For if I take ye in hand I shall dissect you , And reade upon your flegmaticke dull assalle Andrew . O th' infinite fright that will assaile this Gentleman ! The quarterns , tertians K●ckshaw Lilly , I am hungry now , And th'hast another Kickshaw , I must taste it . raveal The man raves This is not judicious Brisac : Yet now I Exeu●● Exeunt