EUSTACE

Sir, though it be unusual in the Court, (Since it's the Courtiers garb) I bend my knee, And do expect what follows. Your Lordship's vowed adorer: What a thing this brother is! yet I'll vouchsafe him The new Italian shrug—How clownishly The book-worme does return it. Pray you be happy in the knowledge of This pair of accomplished Monsieurs. They are Gallants that have seen both Tropics. Which we'll make use of; Let's warm our brains with half a dozen healths, And then hang cold discourse, for wee'll speak fireworks. Sir. 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. Nor shall you my Lord, Nor 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 found the Trump of my own deserts, I could say my choice manners have been such, As render me loved and remarkable To the Princes of the blood. Then for my Hope's. They stand As fair as any men, What can there fallen In compass of her wishes which she shall not Be suddenly possessed of? Loves she titles? By the grace and favour of my princely friends, I am what she would have me. Full increase of honour Wait ever on your Lordship. She's mine Sir, fear it not: In all my travails, I never met a Virgin That could resist my Courtship. If this take now, W'are made for ever, and will revel it. I'll assure you Gentlemen, my Tailor has travailed, And speaks as lofty language in his bills too, The cover of and old Book would not show thus. Fie, fie, what things these Academics are, These bookworms, how they look! I thanke'm for it, Long may he study to give me his state. Saw you my Mistress? Songs she May have, and read a little unbaked Poetry, Such as the Dabblers of our time contrive, That has no weight nor wheel to move the mind, Nor indeed nothing but and empty found; She shall have clothes but not made by Geometry, Horses and Coach but of no immortal raze; I will not have a Scholar in mine house Above a gentle Reader, They corrupt The foolish women with their subtle problems: I'll have my house called Ignorance, to fright Prating Philosophers from entertainment. To morrow, I think, we must have a Masque Boys, And of our own making. What, Nymphs with beards? Let's go, let's go, I must go visit, Gentlemen, And mark what sweet lips I must kiss to morrow. And how do's my Master? It seems your anger is at me, deer Uncle. These are but harsh words Uncle. I would be loath to give you. Do, speak apaco, for we believe exactly: Do not we stay long Mistress? See, my mad Uncle Is courting my fair Mistress. My father's here, my brother too! that's a wonder, Broke Like a spirit from his Cell. Will you write brother? You but vex your self brother, And vex your study too. Yes, would he were buried, I fear he'll make and affe of me a younger. 'Tis done already, All, all, is broken off, I am undone friend, My brother's wife again, and has spoiled all, Will not release the land, has won the Wench too. What would you have me do, Sir? The reverence that I ever bore to you Sir, Then to my Uncle, with whom it had been but sauciness to have been so rough— Yes marry would it, That are prime Courtiers, and must know no anger's, But give thanks for our injuries, if we purpose To hold our places. Wee'll to council, And what may be done by men wit or valour Wee'll put in execution, I must entreat her, She's parcel of my goods. Nay, then you must go, I must claim mine own. Oh, is your heart come down? what are your terms, Sir? Put up, put up. Pray hold, Sir. Are you so unnatural? Pray Sir, Take my submission, and I disclaim for ever. Yes with all our hearts. In truth Sir, I came but to do my duty. My Coach and horses made The ransom of our cowardice. And does the Court that should be the example And Oracle of the Kingdom, read to us No other doctrine. Piety then, And valour, nor to do nor suffer wrong, Are there no virtues. And all this You seriously believe. Now my eyes are open, And I behold a strong necessity That keeps me knave and coward. Nor can I change my Copy, if I purpose To be of your society. My sword forced from me too, and still detained, You think's no blemish. And yet you wear a sword. Wil't not fight of it self? I'll borrow this, I Like it well. And now I have it, leave me, you're infectious, The plague and leprosy of your baseness spreading On all that do come near 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 palates To taste her curious viands, and Like Owls Can only see her night deformities, But with the glorious splendour of her beauty's You are struck blind as Moles, that undermine The sumptuous building that allowed you shelter, You stick Like running ulcers on her face, And taint the pureness of her native candor, And being bade servants cause your Master's goodness 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 crowned with Laurel, And wisdom loaded with the weight of honour) A School of vices. A heavenly one that raising me from sloth and ignorance, (In which your conversation long hath charmed me) Carries me up into the air of Actium, And knowledge of my self; even now I feel But pleading only in the Courts-defence, (Though far 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. Recant What you have said, you Mongrils, and lick up The vomit you have cast upon the Court, Where you unworthily have had warmth and breeding, And swear that you Like Spiders, have made poison Of that which was a saving antidote. Except you two, You Rascals! And that until You are again reformed and grown new men, You never presume to name the Court, or press Into the Porters Lodge but for a penance, To be disciplined for your roguery, and this done With true contrition. You again, May eat scraps and be thankful. Keep your oaths, And without grumbling vanish. May all the poorness of my spirit go with you, The fetters of my thraldom are filled off: And I at liberty to right my self, And though my hope in Angellina's little, My honour (unto which compared she's nothing) Shall Like the Sun disperse those lowering Clouds, That yet obscure and dim it; not the name Of brother shall divert me, but from him, That in the world's opinion ruined me, I will seek reparation, and call him Unto a strict account. Would! it's near day, And if the Muses friend rose-cheeked Aurora, Invite him to this solitary grove, As I much hope she will, he seldom missing To pay his vows here to her, I shall hazard To hinder his devotions—The door opens.— 'Tis he most certain, and by's side my sword, Blessed opportunity. Now Sir, Treat of no other Theme, I'll keep you to it, And see y'expound it well. The same Sir, Your younger brother, who as duty binds him, Hath all this night (turned out of doors) attended, To bid good morrow the. Oh much, Sir, here I end not, but begin; I must speak to you in another strain, Than yet I ever used, and if the language Appear in the delivery rough and harsh, You (being my Tutor) must condemn your self, From whom I learned it. I come not To lay claim to your birthright, it's your own, And it's fit you enjoy it, nor ask I from you Your learning and deep knowledge; (though I am not A Scholar as you are) I know them Diamonds By your sole industry, patience and labour Forced from steep rocks and with much toil attended, And but to few, that prize their valve granted, And therefore without rival freely wear them. I require then, (As from and enemy and not a brother) The reputation of a man, the honour, Not by a fair war won when I was waking, But in my sleep of folly ravished from me, With these, the restitution of my sword, With large acknowledgement of satisfaction, My Coach, my Horses, I will partly with life, Ere loose one hair of them, and what concludes all, My Mistress Angellina, as she was Before the musical Magic of thy tongue Enchanted and seduced her. These performed, And with submission, and done publicly At my Father's and my Uncle's intercession, (That I put in too) I perhaps may listen To terms of reconcilement; but if these In every circumstance are not subscribed to, To the last gasp I defy thee. My rest is up, Nor will I give less. This discourse Is from the subject. You shall fight then. None. She detained, I'm deaf To all persuasion. Second him, or call in more help, Come not between us, I'll not know nor spare you; D'ye fight by the book? Never Charles, Till thine, and in thy death, be doubled in me. 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 yielding to a minute of delay In my revenge, and from that made a stranger Unto my father's house and favour, one wholm'd With all disgraces, yet I will mount upward, And force my self a fortune, though my birth And breeding do deny it. All this is lip-salve. I'll take leave A little to consider. What of her? I would do much Sir, But still my reputation! And if I follow not, a Cowards name Be branded on my forehead. I dare not doubt it, Sir. He that advances But one step forward die. Force will not do't nor threats, accept this service From your despaired of Eustace.