Ang.  I like thy noblenesse. Eust.  See my mad Uncle Is courting my faire Mistresse. Lew.  Let him alone, There’s nothing that allayes an angrie mind So soone as a sweet beautie; hee’l come to us.

      Enter Brisac, Charles.

Eust.  My father’s here, my brother too! that’s a wonder,
Broke like a spirit from his Cell. Bri.  Come hither,
Come neerer Charles; ’Twas your desire to see
My noble Daughter, and the company,
And give your brother joy, and then to seal boy. 
You doe like a good brother. Lew. Marry do’s he
And he shall have my love for ever for’t. 
Put to your hand now. Not. Here’s the Deed Sir, ready.

Cha. No, you must pardon me a while, I tell ye, I am in contemplation, doe not trouble me.

Bri. Come, leave thy studie, Charles. Cha. Ile leave my life first; I studie now to be a man, I’ve found it.  Before, what man was, was but my argument.

Mir. I like this best of all, he has taken fire, His dull mist flies away. Eust. Will you write brother?

Cha. No, brother no, I have no time for poore things, I’m taking th’ height of that bright Constellation.

Bri. I say, you trifle time, Son. Cha. I will not seale, Sir;
I am your eldest, and Ile keepe my birthright,
For heaven forbid I should become example;
Had y’onely shew’d me Land, I had deliver’d it,
And been a proud man to have parted with it;
Tis dirt, and labour; Doe I speak right Uncle?

Mir. Bravely my boy, and blesse thy tongue. Char. Ile forward, But you have open’d to me such a treasure, I find my mind free, heaven direct my fortune.

Mir. Can he speak now?  Is this a son to sacrifice?

Cha. Such an inimitable piece of beauty
That I have studyed long, and now found onely,
That Ile part sooner with my soul of reason,
And be a plant, a beast, a fish, a flie,
And onely make the number of things up
Than yeeld one foot of Land, if she be ty’d to’t.

Lew. He speakes unhappily. Aug. and me thinkes bravely. 
This the meere Schollar? Eust. You but vexe your selfe brother
And vex your studie too. Cha. Go you and studie,
For ’ts time young Eustace, you want both man and manners,
I’ve studied both, although I made no shew on’t. 
Goe turne the Volumes over I have read,
Eate and digest them, that they may grow in thee,
Weare out the tedious night with thy dimme Lampe,
And sooner lose the day than leave a doubt. 
Distil the sweetness from the Poets Spring,
And learne to love, Thou know’st not what faire is,
Traverse the stories of the great Heroes,
The wise and civill lives of good men walke through;
Thou hast scene nothing but the face of Countries,
And brought home nothing but their empty words: 
Why should’st thou weare a Jewel of this worth? 
That hast no worth within thee to preserve her.