Char.  With much unwillingness with you; but if there’s no evasion—­

Eust.  None.

Char.  Hear yet a word; as for the Sword and other fripperies, in a fair way send for them, you shall have ’em.  But rather than surrender Angellina, or hear it again mention’d, I oppose my breast unto loud thunder, cast behind me all tyes of Nature.

Eust.  She detain’d, I’m deaf to all persuasion.

Char.  Guard thy self then. Eustace; I use no other Rhetorick.

Enter Miram.

Mir.  Clashing of swords so near my house!  Brother oppos’d to Brother! here’s no fencing at half sword; hold, hold, Charles, Eustace.

Eust.  Second him, or call in more help.  Come not between us, I’le not know nor spare you; D’ye fight by th’ book?

Char.  ’Tis you that wrong me, off Sir, and suddenly, I’le conjure down the Spirit that I have rais’d in him.

Eust.  Never, Charles, ’tis thine, and in thy death, be doubled in me.

Mir.  I’m out of breath, yet trust not too much to’t, Boys; for if you pause not suddenly, and hear reason, do, kill your Uncle, do; but that I’m patient, and not a cholerick old teasty fool, like your Father, I’d dance a matachin with you, should make you sweat your best bloud 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-metall’d blade, and I begin to love thee heartily; give me a fighting Courtier, I’le cherish him for example; in our Age they’re not born every day.

Char.  You of late, Sir, in me lov’d learning.

Mir.  True, but take me w’ye, Charles; ’twas when young Eustace wore his heart in’s breeches, and fought his Battels in Complements and Cringes, when’s understanding wav’d in a flanting Feather, and his best contemplation look’d no further than a new fashion’d doublet; I confess then, the lofty noise your Greek made, only pleas’d me; but now he’s turn’d an Oliver and a Rowland, nay, the whole dozen of Peers are bound up in him:  Let me remember, when I was of his years, I did look very like him; and did you see my Picture as I was then, you would swear that gallant Eustace (I mean, now he dares fight) was the true substance, and the perfect figure.  Nay, nay, no anger, you shall have enough, Charles.

Char.  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 yielding to a minute of delay in my revenge, and from that made a stranger unto my Father’s house and favour, o’erwhelm’d with all disgraces; yet I will mount upward, and force my self a fortune, though my birth and breeding do deny it.