LITMIR.BIZ

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and none of yours; may be I'le see your Table too.

      Bri. Pray do, 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 Heir, 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 Book his Mistris; Sure there's something hid in this old man's anger, that declares him not a meer sot.

      Bri. Come, shall we go and seal, 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 seal the Book first for my Daughters Jointure.

      Bri. Let's be private in't, Sir. [Exeunt.

      ACTUS III. SCENA IV

      Enter Charles, Miramont, Andrew.

      Mir. Nay, y'are undone.

      Char. Hum.

      Mir. Ha'ye no greater feeling?

      And. You were sensible of the great Book, Sir, when it fell on your head, and now the house is ready to fall, do you fear nothing?

      Char. Will he have my Books too.

      Mir. No, he has a Book, a fair one too, to read on, and read wonders; I would thou hadst her in thy Study, Nephew, and 'twere but to new string her.

      Char. Yes, I saw her, and me thought 'twas a curious piece of Learning, handsomely bound, and of a dainty Letter.

      And. He flung away his Book.

      Mir. I like that in him; would he had flung away his dulness too, and spoke to her.

      Char. And must my Brother have all?

      Mir. All that your Father has.

      Char. And that fair woman too?

      Mir. That woman also.

      Char. He has enough then. May I not see her sometimes, and call her sister? I will do him no wrong.

      Mir. This makes me mad, I could now cry for anger: these old Fools are the most stubborn and the wilfullest Coxcombs; Farewell, and fall to your Book, forget your Brother: you are my Heir, and I'le provide y'a Wife: I'le look upon this marriage, though I hate it. [Exit.

      Enter Brisac.

      Bri. Where is my Son?

      And. There, Sir, casting a Figure what chopping children his Brother shall have.

      Bri. He does well. How do'st, Charles? still at thy Book?

      And. He's studying now, Sir, who shall be his Father.

      Bri. Peace, you rude Knave—Come hither, Charles, be merry.

      Char. I thank you, I am busie at my Book, Sir.

      Bri. You must put your hand, my Charles, as I would have you, unto a little piece of Parchment here: only your name; you write a reasonable hand.

      Char. But I may do unreasonably to write it. What is it, Sir?

      Bri. To pass the Land I have, Sir, unto your younger Brother.

      Char. Is't no more?

      Bri. No, no, 'tis nothing: you shall be provided for, and new Books you shall have still, and new Studies, and have your means brought in without thy care, Boy, and one still to attend you.

      Char. This shews your love, Father.

      Bri. I'm tender to you.

      And. Like a stone, I take it.

      Char. Why Father, I'll go down, an't please you let me, because I'd see the thing they call the Gentlewoman; I see no Woman but through contemplation, and there I'll do't before the company, and wish my Brother fortune.

      Bri. Do, I prethee.

      Char. 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 o'erthrown himself for ever; I will down into the Cellar, and be stark drunk for anger. [Exeunt.

      ACTUS III. SCENA V

      Enter Lewis, Angellina, Eustace, Priest, Ladies, Cowsy, Notary, and Miramont.

      Not. Come, let him bring his Sons hand, and all's done. Is your's ready?

      Pri. Yes, I'll dispatch ye presently, immediately, for in truth I am a hungry.

      Eust. Do, speak apace, for we believe exactly: do not we stay long, Mistress?

      Ang. I find no fault, better things well done, than want time to do them. Uncle, why are you sad?

      Mir. Sweet smelling blossom, would I were thine Uncle to thine own content, I'd make thy Husband's state a thousand better, a yearly thousand. Thou hast mist a man, (but that he is addicted to his study, and knows no other Mistress than his mind) would weigh down bundles of these empty kexes.

      Ang. Can he speak, Sir?

      Mir. Faith yes, but not to Women; his language is to Heaven, and heavenly wonder; to Nature, and her dark and secret causes.

      Ang. And does he speak well there?

      Mir. O admirably! but he's too bashful to behold a Woman, there's none that sees him, and he troubles none.

      Ang. He is a man.

      Mir. Faith yes, and a clear sweet spirit.

      Ang. Then conversation me thinks—

      Mir. So think I; but it is his rugged Fate, and so I leave you.

      Ang. I like thy nobleness.

      Eust. See my mad Uncle is courting my fair Mistress.

      Lew. Let him alone; there's nothing that allays an angry mind so soon as a sweet Beauty: he'll come to us.

      Enter Brisac, and Charles.

      Eust. My Father's here, my Brother too! that's a wonder, broke like a Spirit from his Cell.

      Bri. Come hither, come nearer, Charles; 'twas your desire to see my noble Daughter, and the company, and give your Brother joy, and then to Seal, Boy; you do, like a good Brother.

      Lew. Marry does he, and he shall have my love for ever for't. Put to your hand now.

      Not. Here's the Deed, Sir, ready.

      Char. No, you must pardon me a while, I tell ye, I am in contemplation, do not trouble me.

      Bri. Come, leave thy Study, Charles.

      Char. I'll 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?

      Char. No, Brother, no; I have no time for poor things, I'm taking the height of that bright Constellation.

      Bri. I say you trifle time, Son.

      Char. I will not seal, Sir; I am your Eldest, and I'll keep my Birth-right, for Heaven forbid I should become example: Had y'only shew'd me Land, I had deliver'd it, and been a proud man to have parted with it; 'tis dirt, and labour. Do I speak right, Uncle?

      Mir. Bravely, my Boy, and bless thy tongue.

      Char. I'll forward: but you have open'd to me

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