Char. I may do this from what I've read, Sir; for, what concerns Tillage, who better can deliver it than Virgil in his Georgicks? and to cure your Herds, his Bucolicks is a Masterpiece; but when he does describe the Commonwealth of Bees, their industry, and knowledge of the herbs 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 coming loaden home; their obedience to their King, and his rewards to such as labour, with his punishments only inflicted on the slothful Drone; I'm ravish'd with it, and there reap my Harvest, and there receive the gain my Cattle bring me, and there find Wax and Honey.
Bri. And grow rich in your imagination; heyday, heyday! Georgicks, Bucolicks, and Bees! art mad?
Char. No, Sir, the knowledge of these guards me from it.
Bri. But can you find among your bundle of Books (and put in all your Dictionaries that speak all Tongues) what pleasure they enjoy, that do embrace a well-shap'd wealthy Bride? Answer me that.
Char. 'Tis frequent, Sir, in Story, there I read of all kind of virtuous and vitious women; the antient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladies, their Beauties and Deformities; and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness; with such a feeling I peruse their Fortunes, as if I then had liv'd, and freely tasted their ravishing sweetness; at the present loving the whole Sex for their goodness and example. But on the contrary, when I look on a Clytemnestra, or a Tullia; the first bath'd in her Husband[s] bloud; the latter, without a touch of piety, driving on her Chariot o'er her Father's breathless Trunk, horrour invades my faculties; and comparing the multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few that did die Innocents, I detest and loath 'em as Ignorance or Atheism.
Bri. You resolve then ne'er to make payment of the debt you owe me.
Char. 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.
Char. The Children, Sir, which I will leave to all posterity, begot and brought up by my painful Studies, shall be my living Issue.
Bri. Very well; and I shall have a general Collection of all the quiddits from Adam to this time, to be my Grandchild.
Char. And such a one, I hope, Sir, as shall not shame the Family.
Bri. Nor will you take care of my Estate?
Char. But in my wishes; for know, Sir, that the wings on which my Soul is mounted, have long since born her too high, to stoop to any Prey that soars not upwards. Sordid and dunghill minds, compos'd of earth, in that gross Element fix all their happiness; but purer Spirits, purged and refin'd, shake off that clog of humane frailty; give me leave t'enjoy my self; that place that does contain my Books (the best Compa[n]ions) is to me a glorious Court, where hourly I converse with the old Sages and Philosophers, and sometimes for variety, I confer with Kings and Emperors, and weigh their Counsels, 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 embrace uncertain vanities? No, be it your care t'augment your heap of wealth; it shall be mine t'increase 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. He is indeed, Sir, the surer base to build on.
Enter Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy, and Andrew.
Bri. Eustace.
Eust. Sir.
Bri. Your ear in private.
And. I suspect my Master has found harsh welcome, he's gone supperless into his Study; could I find out the cause, it may be borrowing of his Books, or so, I shall be satisfied.
Eust. My duty shall, Sir, take any form you please; and in your motion to have me married, you cut off all dangers the violent heats of youth might bear me to.
Lew. It is well answer'd.
Eust. Nor shall you, my Lord, for your fair Daughter ever find just cause to mourn 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 Lordship's; and but that modesty forbids, that I should sound the Trumpet of my own deserts, I could say, my choice manners have been such, as render me lov'd and remarkable to the Princes of the Blood,
Cow. Nay, to the King.
Egre. Nay to the King and Council.
And. These are Court-admirers, and ever echo him that bears the Bag. Though I be dull-ey'd, I see through this jugling.
Eust. Then for my hopes.
Cow. Nay certainties.
Eust. They stand as fair as any mans. What can there fall in compass of her wishes, which she shall not be suddenly possess'd of? Loves she Titles? by the grace and favour of my Princely Friends, I am what she would have me.
Bri. He speaks well, and I believe him.
Lew. I could wish I did so. Pray you a word, Sir. He's a proper Gentleman, and promises nothing, but what is possible. So far I will go with you; nay, I add, he hath won much upon me; and were he but one thing that his Brother is, the bargain were soon struck up.
Bri. What's that, my Lord?
Lew. The Heir.
And. Which he is not, and I trust never shall be.
Bri. Come, that shall breed no difference; you see Charles has given o'er the world; I'le undertake, and with much ease, to buy his Birth-right of him for a Dry-fat of new Books; nor shall my state alone make way for him, but my elder Brothers, who being issueless, to advance our name, I doubt not will add his. Your resolution?
Lew. I'le first acquaint my Daughter with the proceedings; on these terms I am yours, as she shall be, make you no scruple. Get the Writings ready, she shall be tractable; to morrow 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 Gout rather, and a perpetual Meagrim.
Bri. You see, Eustace, how I travel to possess you of a Fortune you were not born to; be you worthy of it: I'le furnish you for a Suitor: visit her, and prosper in't.
Eust. She's mine, Sir, fear it not: in all my travels, I ne'er met a Virgin that could resist my Courtship. If it take now, we're made for ever, and will revel it. [Ex.
And. In tough Welsh Parsly, which, in our vulgar Tongue, is strong Hempen Halters; my poor Master cozen'd, and I a looker on! If we have studi'd our Majors and our Minors, Antecedents and Consequents, to be concluded Coxcombs, w'have made a fair hand on't. I am glad I have found out all their plots, and their Conspiracies; this shall t'old Monsieur Miramont, one, that though he cannot read a Proclamation, yet dotes on Learning, and loves my Master Charles for being a Scholar; I hear he's coming hither, I shall meet him; and if he be that old, rough, testy blade he always us'd to be, I'le ring him such a peal, as shall go near to shake their Belroom, peradventure beat'm, for he is fire and flax; and so have at him. [Exit.
ACTUS SE[C]UNDUS. SCENA PRIMA
Enter Miramount, Brisac.
Mir. Nay, Brother, Brother.
Bri. Pray, Sir, be not moved, I meddle with no business but mine own, and in mine own 'tis reason I should govern.
Mir. But how to govern 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 ye heartily and home too.
Bri. What, Sir?
Mir. What I grieve to find, you are a fool, and an old fool, and that's two.
Bri. We'll part 'em, if you please.
Mir. No, they're entail'd to 'em. Seek to deprive an honest noble Spirit, your eldest Son, Sir, and your very Image, (but he's so like you, that he fares the worse for't) because he loves his Book, and dotes on that, and only studies how to know things excellent, above the reach of such course Brains as yours, such muddy Fancies, that never will know farther than when to cut your Vines, and cozen Merchants, and choak your hidebound Tenants with musty Harvests.