CHARLES

Plato differs From Socrates in this. Men life Sir, being So short, and then the way that leads unto The knowledge of our selves, so long and tedious, Each minute should be precious. I may do this From what I've read Sir; for what concerns tillage? Who better can deliver it than Virgil In his Georgics? and to cure your heards, His Bucolics is a masterpeece; 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 loaded home, Their obedience to their King, and his towards To such as labour, with his punishments Only inflicted on the slothful Drone, I'm ravished with it, and there reap my harvest, And there receive the gain my Cattle bring me, And there find wax and honey. No Sir, the knowledge of these guard me from it. 'Tis frequent Sir in story, there I read of All kind of virtuous and vicious women, The ancient Spartan Dams, and Roman Ladies, Their beauty's, and deformities, and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, Crowned with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness, With such a feeling I peruse their Fortune's, As if I then had lived, 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 bathed in her husbands blood; The later, Without a touch of piety, driving on Her Chariot over her father's breathless trunk; Horror invades my faculties; and comparing The multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few That did die Innocents, I detest, and loathe'm As ignorance or Atheism. What debt, good Sir. The children Sir, Which I will leave to all posterity, Begotten and brought up by my painful studies, Shall be my living issue. And such a one I hope Sir, As shall not shame the Family. 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 upward, Sordid and dunghill minds composed of earth, In that gross Element fix all their happiness; But purer spirits, purged and refined, shake off That clog of humane frailty; give me leave Enjoy my self, that place that does contain My Books (the best Companions) is to me A glorious Court, where howrely I converse With the old Sages and Philosophers, And sometime for variety, I confer With Kings and Emperors, and weigh their Counsels, Calling their Victories (if unjustly God) Unto a strict account, and in my fancy, Deface their ill placed Statues; Can I then Partly with such constant pleasures, to embrace Uncertain vanities? No, be it your care Augment your heap of wealth; It shall be mine T'encrease in knowledge—Lights there for my study. Andrew, I find There is a sty grown over the eye oth' Bull, Which will go near to blind the Constellation. Ariadne's crown's awry too, two maine-starres That held it fast are slipped out. Thou art a pretty Scholar. I hear thou art married. Marry thy self to understanding, Andrew, These women are Errata in all Authors, They're fair to see to, and bound up in vellam, Smooth, white and clear, 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. No, if thou hadst thould'st never have married a woman In thy bosom, they're Cataplasmes made oth' deadly sins, I never saw any yet but mine own mother, Or if I did, I did regard them, but As shadows that pass by of under Creatures. No, no, the are optics to delude men's eyes with. Does my younger brother speak any Greek yet, Andrew? Reach me the books down I read yesterday, And make a little fire, and get a manchet, Make clean those instruments of brass I showed you, And set the great Sphere by, then take the fox tail And purge the books from dust, last take your Lily, And get your partly ready. I mean your Grammar, Oh thou dunderhead! Wouldst thou be ever in thy wives Syntaxis? Let me have no noise, nor nothing to disturb me, I am to find a secret. Come near, And lay thine ear down, hearest no noise? What sque a king's that? Sure there is a massacre. Do they thus At every dinner? I never marked them yet, Nor know who is a Cook. What's that? I've read of Dear, but yet I never eat any. Sure these are modern, very modern meats, For I understand they not. 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 half this charge, will not fine dishes serve they? I never had but one, and that a small one. What of that? Married? to whom? Are there modest women? How do they look? What do's my father for they? Must I have nothing? I am his eldest brother. 'Tis well, Hee'll not inherit my understanding too? Hark, hark. Sure this should be modest; But I do not truly know what women make of it, Andrew; she has a face looks Like a story, The story of the Heavens looks very Like her. She has a Cherubins, Covered and veiled with modest blushes. Eustace be happy while poor Charles is patient. Get me my book again, and come in with me. hum. Will He have my books too? Yes, I saw her, And me thought 'twas a curious piece of learning, Handsomely bound, and of a dainty letter. And must my brother have all? And that fair woman too? He has enough then. May I not see her sometime, and call her Sister? I will do him no wrong. I thank you I am busy at my book, Sir, But I may do unreasonably to write it, What is it Sir? Is't no more? This shows your love father. Why father, I'll go down, an't please you let me, Because Idem see the thing they call the Gentlewoman, I see no women but through contemplation, And there I'll doe't before the company, And wish my brother fortune. I must not stay, for I have things above Require my study. No, you must pardon me a while, I tell you, I am in contemplation, do not trouble me. 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. No, brother no, I have no time for poor things, I'm taking the height of that bright Constellation. I will not seal, Sir, I am your eldest, and I'll keep my birthright, For heaven forbid I should become example; Had you only showed me Land, I had delivered it, And been a proud man to have parted with it; 'Tis dirt, and labour; Do I speak right Uncle? I'll forward, But you have opened to me such a treasure, I find my mind free, heaven direct my fortune. Such and inimitable piece of beauty, That I have studied long, and now found only, That I'll partly sooner with my soul of reason, And be a plant, a beast, a fish, a fly; And only make the number of things up Than yield one foot of Land, if she be tied to't. Go you and study, For 'ts time young Eustace, you want both man and manners, I've studied both, although I made no show on't, Go turn the Volumes over I have read, Eat and digest them, that they may grow in thee, Wear out the tedious night with thy dim Lamps And sooner lose the day than leave a doubt, Distil the sweetness from the Poets Spring, And learn to love, Thou knowest not what fair is, Traverse the stories of the great Heroes, The wise and civil lives of good men walk through; Thou hast seen nothing but the face of Countries, And brought home nothing but their empty words: Why shouldst thou wear a Jewel of this worth? That hast no worth within thee to preserve her. Beauty clear and fair, where the air Rather Like a perfume dwells, Where the violet and the rose Their blue veins in blush disclose, And come to honour nothing else. Where to live near, and planted there, Is to live, and still live new, Where to gain a favour is More than light, perpetual bliss, Make me live by serving you. Dear again back recall, to this light, A stranger to himself and all; Both the wonder and the story Shall be yours, and eke the glory. I am your servant, and your thrall. Dispatch? What? You are deceived, Sir, Now I perceive what it's that woes a woman, And what maintains her when she's wooed. I'll stop here. A wilful poverty never made a beauty, Nor want of means maintained it virtuously: Though land and moneys be no happiness, Yet they are counted good Additions. That use I'll make, He that neglects a blessing, Though he want present knowledge how to use it, Neglects himself; 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 hour and blessed my ignorance: Pray give me leave Sir, I shall clear all doubts. Why did they show me you? Pray tell me that? You happy you, why did you break unto me? The rosy sugared morn never broke so sweetly: I am a man and have desires within me, Affections too, though they were drowned a while, And lay dead, till the Spring of beauty raised them, Till I saw those eyes, I was but a lump, A Chaos of confusedness dwelled in me; Then from those eyes shot Love, and he distinguished, And into form he drew my faculties; And now I know my Land, and now I love too. It is too late Sir, I have her figure here. Nay frown not Eustace, There are less worthy souls for younger brother's, This is no form of silk but sanctity, Which wild lascivious hearts can never dignify. Remove her where you will, I walk along still, For Like the light we make no separation; You may sooner partly the billows of the Sea, And put a bar betwixt their fellowships, Than blot out my remembrance, sooner shut Old time into a den, and stay his motion, Wash off the swift hours from his downy wings, Or steal eternity to stop his glass, Than shut the sweet Idea I have in me. Room for and elder brother, pray give place, Sir. Do not you think me mad? You look upon my clothes and laugh at me, My scurvy clothes! His are gold and gawdy. Can you love me? I am and heir, sweet Lady, However I appear a poor 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 die. Old men are not immortal, as I take it, Is it, you look for, youth and handsomeness? I do confess my brother's a handsome Gentleman, But he shall give me leave to led the way Lady, Can you love for love, and make that the reward? The old man shall not love his heaps of gold With a more doting superstition, Than I'll love you; The young man his delights, The merchant when he ploughs the angry sea up And sees the mountain billows falling on him, As if all Elements, and all their anger's Were turned into one vowed destruction; Shall not with greater joy embrace his safety. Wee'll live together Like two wanton Vines, Circling out souls and loves in one another, Wee'll spring together and weell bear one fruit, One joy shall make us smile, and one grief mourn, One age go with us, and one hour of death Shall shut our eyes, and one grave make us happy. This is the last time of answering, I will never. Idem have your blessing. I will not. Why do you fly me? what have I so ill About me or within me to deserve it? And I am come to light you, I am a maid, and it's 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 fear one another. The glorious Sun both rising and declining We boldly look upon, even then sweet Lady, When Like a modest bride he draws nights curtains, Even then he blushes, that men should behold him. Why not to yours, deer Mistress? One heart and one bed. I would not know, forget it; Those are but sickly loves that hang on Ceremony, Nursed up with doubts and fears, ours high and healthful, Full of belief, and fit to teach the Priest; Love should seal first, then hands confirm the bargain. Idem see you sleep, for sure your sleeps are excellent: You that are waking such a noted wonder, Must in your slumbers prove and admiration: I would behold your dreams too, if it were possible; Those were rich shows. Then Like blue Neptune courting of and Island, Where all the perfumes and the precious things That wait upon great Nature are laid up. Idem clip it in mine arms, and chastely kiss it, Dwell in your bosom Like your dearest thoughts, And sighs and weep. And those true tears falling on your pure Chrystalls Should turn to armlets for great Queenest' adore. Do not, I will not hurt you; This is to let you know, my worthiest Lady, you have cleared my mind, and I can speak of love too; Fear not my manners, though I never knew Before these few hours what a beauty was, And such a one that fires all hearts that feel it; Yet I have read of virtuous 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 rudeness against chastity. And talk of any thing, Any thing fit for your ears; and my language, Though I was bred up dull I was ever civil; 'Tis true, I have found it hard to look on you, And not desire, 'Twill prove a wise men task, Yet those desires I have so mingled still And tempered with the quality of honour, That if you should yield, I should hate you for't. I am no Courtier of a light condition, Apt to take fire at every beauteous face, That only serves his will and wantonness, And lets the serious partly of life run by As thin neglected sand. Whiteness of name, You must be mine; why should I rob my self Of that that lawfully must make me happy? Why should I seek to cuekold my delights? And widow all those sweets I aim at in you? Wee'll lose our selves in Venus groves of myrtle, Where every little bird shall be a Cupid, And sing of love and youth, each wind that blows And curls the velvet leaves shall breed delights, The wanton springs shall call us to their banks, And on the perfumed flowers wee'll feast our senses, Yet wee'll walk by untainted of their pleasures, And as they were pure Temples wee'll ke in them. A good night the, and may The dew of sleep fallen gently on you, sweet one, And lock up those fair lights in pleasing slumbers; No dreams but chaste and clear attempt your fancy, And break betimes sweet morn, I've lost my light else. Let they in mistress. Not a man, nor make no murmur of it, I charge you. the are here, my Uncle absent, stand close to me. How do you brother with your curious story? Have you not read her yet sufficiently? No, brother, no, I stay yet in the Preface; The stile's too hard for you. She's all when you have her. Do, let her alone, she gives good counsel; do not Trouble your self with Ladies, they are too light; Let out your land, and get a provident Steward. Let her alone, Pray let her alone, and take your coxeombe up: Let me talk civilly a while with you brother, It may be on some terms I may partly with her. This is the first and chiefest, Let's walk a turn; now stand off fools, I advice you, Stand as far off as you would hope for mercy: This is the first sword yet I ever handled, And a sword's a beauteous thing to look upon, And if it hold, I shall so hunt your insolence: 'Tis sharp In me sure, and if I put it home, 'Tis ten to one I shall new pink your Satins: I find I have spirit enough to dispose of it, And will enough to make you all examples; Let me toss it round, I have the full command on't: Fetch me a native Fencer, I defy him; I feel the fire of ten strong spirits in me. Do you watch me when my Uncle is absent? This is my grief, I shall be fleshed on Cowards; Teach me to fight, I willing am to learn. Are you all gilded Flies, nothing but show in you? Why stand you gaping? who now touches her? Who calls her his, or who dares name her to me? But name her as his own, who dares look on her? That shall be mortal too; but think, it's dangerous. Art thou a fit man to inherit land, And hast no wit nor spirit to maintain it? Stand still thou sign of man, and pray for thy friends, Pray heartily, good prayers may restore you. You speak too late, Dear, It is my first fight, and I must do bravely, I must not look with partial eyes on any; I cannot spare a button of these Gentlemen; Did life lie in their heel Achilles Like, Idem shoot my anger at those parts and kill they. Who waits within? View all these, view they well, Go round about they and still view their faces, Round about yet, See how death waits upon they, For thou shalt never view they more. I cannot hold you stand so fair before me, I must not hold it will darken all my glories. Go to my Uncle, bid him post to the King, And get my pardon instantly, I have needs on't. You shall die last Sir, I'll talk thee dead, thou art no man to fight with. Come, will you come? me thinks I've fought whole battles. How my sword Thirsts after them? stand away Sweet. Away you poor things, you despicable Creatures! Do you come post to fetch a Lady from me, From a poor Schoolboy that you scorned of late? And grow lame in your hearts when you should execute? Pray take her, take her, I am weary of her; What did you bring to carry her; But are they good? Are you willing to leave those, and take your safeties? Speak quickly. 'Tis done them Many have God one horse, I've God four by the bargain. I have oreslept my self, And lost partly of the morn, but I'll recover it: Before I went to bed, I wrote some notes Within my Table-book, which I will now consider. Would! What means this? What do I with a sword? Learned Mercury needs not the aid of Mars, and innocence Is to it self a guard, yet since arms ever Protect arts, I may justly wear and use it, For since it was made my prize, I know not how I'm grown in love with't, and cannot eat nor study, And much less walk without it: but I trifle, Matters of more weight ask my judgement. Eustace! This not in scorn, Commands me to return it, Would you ought else? When I understand (Be't in what style you please) what's your demand, I shall endeavour in the self same phrase To make and answer to the point. These not repined at (as you seem t'enforme me) The motion must be of a strange condition, If I refuse to yield to't, therefore Eustace, Without this tempest in your looks propound it, And fear not a denial. These are strict Conditions to a brother. I'm no Gamester, Eustace, Yet I can guess your resolution stands To win or loose all; I rejoice to find you Thus tender of your honour, and that at length You understand what a wretched thing you were, How deeply wounded by your self, and made Almost incurable, in your own Hope's The dead flesh of pale cowardice growing over Your festered reputation, which no balm 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 Oh the danger you were plunged in, teaching you, And by a fair gradation, how far And with what curious respect and care The peace and credit of a man within, (Which you were thought till now) should be preferred Before a gawdy outside, pray you fix here, For so far I go with you. I'll come to it brother, But if you think to built upon my ruins, You'll find a false foundation, your high offers Taught by the Master's of dependencies, That by compounding differences between others Supply their own necessities, with me Will never carry it; As you are my brother, I would dispense a little, but no more Than honour can give way to; nor must I Destroy that in my self I love in you, And therefore let not Hope's nor threats persuade you, I will descend to any composition, For which I may be censured. With much unwillingness with you, but if There's no evasion— Hear yet a word, As for the sword and other fripperies, In a fair way send for them, you shall have they, But rather than surrender Angellina, Or hear it again mentioned, I oppose My breast unto loud thunder, cast behind me All ties of Nature. Guard thy self then Eustace, I use no other Rhetoric. 'Tis you that wrong me, off Sir, And suddenly I'll conjure down the spirit That I have raised in him. You of late Sir, In me loved learning. Sure Sir, I shall not needs addition from him. Seek not Eustace, By violence what will be offered 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 compelled to't by your sword, (Which I must never fear) will share with you, In all but Angellina. Here comes Andrew. Would, my father! Do I live, And know my father injured? This spirit makes you A sharer in my Fortune's. Ill if they dare resist. You're once more in my power, and if again I partly with you, let me for ever loose thee. This is a most strong truth Sir. Your blessing, Sir? Can they set them a gain? What loads are these? Most willingly. I'm glad you are well.