Mir. But how to govern then, and understand Sir,
And be as wise as y’are hasty, though you be
My brother, and from one bloud sprung, I must tell yee
Heartily and home too. Br. What Sir? Mir. What I grieve to find
You are a foole, and an old foole, and that’s two.

Bri. We’l part ’em, if you please. Mir. No they’re entailed to ’em. 
Seeke to deprive an honest noble spirit,
Your eldest Son Sir? and your very Image,
(But he’s so like you that he fares the worse for’t)
Because he loves his booke and doates on that,
And onely studies how to know things excellent,
Above the reach of such course braines as yours,
Such muddy fancies, that never will know farther
Then when to cut your Vines, and cozen Merchants,
And choake your hide-bound Tenants with musty harvests.

Bri. You go to fast. Mir. I’m not come too my pace yet;
Because h’ has made his studie all his pleasure,
And is retyr’d into his Contemplation,
Not medling with the dirt and chaffe of nature,
That makes the spirit of the mind mud too,
Therefore must he be flung from his inheritance? 
Must he be dispossess’d, and Mounsieur Gingle boy
His younger brother—­ Bri. You forget your self.

Mir. Because h’ has been at Court and learn’d new tongues,
And how to speak a tedious peece of nothing;
To vary his face as Seamen do their Compass,
To worship images of gold and silver,
And fall before the she Calves of the Season,
Therefore must he jump into his brothers land?

Bri. Have you done yet, and have you spake enough, In praise of learning, Sir? Mir. Never enough.

Bri. But brother do you know what learning is?

Mir. It is not to be a justice of Peace as you are,
And palter out your time ith’ penal Statutes. 
To heare the curious Tenets controverted
Between a Protestant Constable, and Jesuit Cobler,
To pick natural Philosophic out of bawdry,
When your Worship’s pleas’d to correctifie a Lady;
Nor ’tis not the main moral of blinde Justice,
(Which is deep learning) when your worships Tenants
Bring a light cause, and heavie Hennes before yee,
Both fat and feesible, a Goose or Pig,
And then you sit like equity with both hands
Weighing indifferently the state oth’ question. 
These are your quodlibets, but no learning Brother.

Bri. You are so parlously in love with learning,
That I’de be glad to know what you understand, brother. 
I’me sure you have read all Aristotle. Mir. Faith no,
But I beleeve, I have a learned faith Sir,
And that’s it makes a Gentleman of my sort;
Though I can speak no Greek I love the sound on’t,
It goes so thundering as it conjur’d Devils.
Charles speakes it loftily, and if thou wert a man,
Or had’st but ever heard of Homers Iliads,
Hesiod, and the Greek Poets, thou wouldst run mad,
And hang thy self for joy th’ hadst such a Gentleman
To be thy son; O he has read such things
To me! Bri. And you do understand ’m Brother?