APPENDIX (continued 2)

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 witness. 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 bodie But all he meets, that you have eate a snake, And are grown young, gamesom, and rampant. Bri. Caught thus?

And. If he were one that would make jests of you, Or plague ye with making your religious gravitie Ridiculous to your neighbours, Then you had Some cause to be perplex'd. Bri. I shall become Discourse for Clowns and Tapsters. And. Quick, Lilly, Quick, Hee's now past kissing, between 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 worthie Gentleman, The pillar and the patron of his Countrie; 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 woman; This is some Counterfeit, he shall be whipt for't, Some base abuser of my worthie brother.

Bri. Open the doores, will ye'imprison me? are ye my Judges?

Mir. The man raves! This is not judicious Brisac: Yet now I think on't, a' has a kinde of dog looke Like my brother, a guiltie hanging face.

Bri. Ile 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 torments 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, Lil. And. Wee'l teach him to meddle with Scholars.

Mir. he shall make good his promise t'increase thy Farm, Andrew Or Ile jeere him to death, feare nothing Lilly, I am thy Champion. This jeast goes to Charles, And then Ile hunt him out, and Monsieur Eustace The gallant Courtier, and laugh heartily To see'm mourne together. And. Twill be rare, Sir. Exeunt.

Actus 5. Scaena 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. Lew. Cow. Pish, that's nothing, Tis 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, read to us No other doctrine! Egre. None that thrives so well As that, within my knowledge. Cow. Flatterie rubbes out, But since great men learne to admire themselves, Tis something crest-falne. Egre. To be of no Religion, Argues a subtle moral understanding, And it is often cherisht. Eust. Pietie then, And valour, nor to doe nor suffer wrong, Are they 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 swim in choice of silkes and Tissues; Though in defence of that word reputation, Which is indeed a kind of glorious nothing, To lose a dram of blood 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 black guard To the grim Sir in office, there are few Hold other Tenets. Eust. [N]ow 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 detain'd, You think's no blemish. Egre. Get me a battoone? Tis twenty times more courtlike, and less 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 several weapons, Turkish and Toledo's, Two thousand Crownes, and yet could never light Upon a fighting one. Eust. Ile borrow this, I like it well. Cow. Tis at your service Sir, A lath in a velvet scabbard will serve my turne.

Eust. And now I have it leave me; y'are infectious, The plague and leprosie of your baseness 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 struck blinde as Moles, that undermine The sumptuous building that allow'd you shelter, You stick like running ulcers on her face, And taint the pureness of her native candor, And being bad servants, cause your masters goodness To be disputed of; you make the Court That is the abstract of all Academies, To teach and practice noble undertakings, (Where courage sits triumphant crown'd with Lawrel, 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 conversation 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 far[r]e 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'l beat us, I see it in his eyes. Egre. A second Charles; Pray look 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 fool, 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 until You are again 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 thankful. 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 filed off: And I at libertie to right my selfe, And though my hope in Angellina's little, My honour (unto which compar'd shee's nothing) Shall like the Sun 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 seek reparation, and call him Unto a strict accompt. Ha! 'tis 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. Tis he most certain, and by's side my sword, Blest opportunity. Cha. I have oreslept my selfe, And lost part of the morne, but Ile recover it: Before I went to bed, I wrote some notes Within my table-book, which I will now consider. Ha! What meanes this? What do 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 ask my judgement. Eust. Now Sir, Treate of no other Theme, Ile keep 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 begin; I must speak 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 self same phrase To make an answer to the point. Eust. I come not To lay claime to your birthright, 'tis your owne, And 'tis fit you enjoy it, nor ask I from you Your learning and deepe knowledge; (though I am not A Schollar as you are) I know them Diamonds By your sole industry, patience and labour Forc'd from steepe rocks, and with much toile attended, And but to few that prize their value granted, And therefore without rival freely weare them.

Cha. These not repin'd at (as you seeme t'informe 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 denial. Eust. I require then, (As from an enemy, and not a brother) The reputation of a man of honour, Not by a faire war 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 Mistress Angellina, as she was Before the Musical Magick 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 termes of reconcilement; but if these In every circumstance are not subscrib'd to, To th' last gasp I defie thee. Cha. These are strict Conditions to a brother. Eust. My rest is up, Nor will I give less. Cha. I'me no Gamester, Eustace, Yet I can guesse your resolution stands To win or loose all; I rejoyce to find ye Thus tender of your honour, and that at length You understand what a wretched thing you were, How deeply wounded by your selfe, and made Almost incurable, 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, in teaching you, And by a faire gradation, how far[r]e, And with what curious respect and care The peace and credit of a man within, (Which you nere thought till now) should be preferr'd Before a gawdy outside; pray you fix here, For so farre I go with you. Eust. This discourse Is from the subject. Cha. Ile come to it brother, But if you think to build upon my ruines, You'l find a false foundation your high offers Taught by the Masters of dependancies, That by compounding differences 'tween 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 unwillingness 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 detain'd, I'me deafe To all perswasion. Cha. Guard thy selfe then Eustace, I use no other Rhetorick. Mir. Clashing of swords [Enter Miram.] 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, Ile not know nor spare you; D'ye fight by th' booke? Cha. Tis you that wrong me, off Sir, And suddenly, Ile conjure down the Spirit That I have raised in him. Eust. Never, Charles, Tis 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 cholerick old teasty foole, Like your father, Ide 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 Spark, A true tough-metal'd blade, and I begin To love thee heartily, give me a fighting Courtier, Ile cherish him for example; in our age Th'are not born every day. Cha. You of late Sir, In me lov'd learning. Mir. True, but take me w'ye, Charles, 'Twas when yong 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 confess then The lofty noise your Greek 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 slighted By yeelding to a minute of delay In my revenge, and from that made a stranger Unto my fathers house and favour, orewhelm'd With all disgraces, yet I will mount upward, And force my selfe a fortune, though my birth And breeding doe deny it. Cha. Seek not Eustace, By violence, what will be offerd to you On easier composition; though I was not Allied unto your weakness, you shall find 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 it 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 think you have lost, spare, Charles, and swinge me, And soundly; three or foure walking 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, I will so pinch and wring him, That spight of his authority, thou shalt make Thine owne conditions with him. Eust. Ile take leave A little to consider. Cha. Here comes Andrew.

Mir. But without his Comical and learned face; What sad disaster, Andrew? And. You may read Sir, A Tragedy in my face. Mir. Art thou in earnest?

And. Yes, by my life Sir, and if now you help 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 suit 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 break in at th' back part of the house, And took her away by violence; faithful Andrew, (As this can witness for him) did his best, In her defence, but 'twould not doe. Mir. Away, And see our horses sadled, 'tis no time To talke, but doe: Eustace, you now are offer'd A spatious field, and in a pious war To exercise you[r] 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 unnatural jarres Arising betweene brothers (should you prosper) Would shame your victorie. 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 concerns The honour of our family, Monsieur Lewis (If reason cannot work) shall find and feele There's hot blood in this arme, Ile 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 Again in our possession) you shall know My heart speakes in my tongue. Eust. I dare not doubt it, Sir. Exeunt.

Actus V. Scaena II.

Enter Lewis, Brisac, Angellina, Sylvia, Officers.

Lew. I'me deafe to all perswasions. Bri. I use none, Nor doubt I, though a while my innocence suffers, But when the King shall understand how false Your malice hath inform'd him, he in justice Must set me right againe. Ang. Sir, let not passion So far[r]e transport you as to think in reason, This violent course repaires, but ruins it; That honour you would build up, you destroy; What you would seeme to nourish, if respect Of my preferment or my patern May challenge your paternal love and care, Why doe you, now good fortune has provided A better husband for me than your hopes Could ever fancy, strive to robb me of him? In what is my Lord Charles defective Sir? Unless deep 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 distastful to you, Of what can you accuse him? Lew. Of a rape Done to honour, which thy ravenous lust Made the consent to. Syl. Her lust! you are her father.

Lew. And you her Bawd. Syl. Were you ten Lords, 'tis false, The pureness of her chaste thoughts entertains 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 madness. Lew. Tell me so in open Court, And there Ile answer you. Mir. Well overtaken;

[Enter Mir. Char. Eust. Andrew.]

Cha. Ill if they dare resist. Eust. He that advances But one step forward dies. L. Shew the King's Writ.

Mir. Shew your discretion, 'twil 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 wilful 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'l 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, Tis fit that we retreat and nere come on more: Observe my learned Charles, hee'l get thee a Nephew On Angellina shall dispute in her belly, And suck the Nurse by Logick: and here's Eustace, He was an asse, but now is grown 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 Ile not chide, Hereafter like me, ever doate on learning, The meere beleefe is excellent, 'twill 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 Farm 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; Ile pay those Billmen, and make large amends; Provided we preserve you still our friends.— Exeunt.

[A few misprints in the above have been corrected in square brackets to agree with B.]

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