Egre.  And will make oath, if you enjoyn us to’t, nor knave, nor fool, nor coward living in it.

Eust.  Except you two, you Rascals.

Cow.  Yes, we are all these, and more, if you will have it so.

Eust.  And that until you are again reform’d and grown new men, you ne’ere presume to name the Court, or press into the Porter’s Lodge but for a penance, to be disciplin’d for your roguery, and this done with true contrition.

Both.  Yes, Sir.

Eust.  You again may eat scraps, and be thankful.

Cow.  Here’s a cold breakfast after a sharp nights walking.

Eust.  Keep your oaths, and without grumbling vanish.

Both.  We are gone, Sir. [Exeunt.

Eust.  May all the poorness of my spirit go with you:  the fetters of my thraldom are fil’d off, and I at liberty to right my self; and though my hope in Angellina’s little, my honour (unto which compar’d she’s nothing) shall, like the Sun, disperse those lowring Clouds that yet obscure and dim it; not the name of Brother shall divert me, but from him, that in the world’s opinion ruin’d me, I will seek reparation, and call him unto a strict accompt.  Ha! ’tis near day, and if the Muses friend, Rose-cheek’d Aurora, invite him to this solitary Grove, as I much hope she will, he seldome 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.  Blest Opportunity.

Enter Charles.

Char.  I have o’er-slept my self, and lost part of the morn, but I’le recover it:  Before I went to bed, I wrote some Notes within my Table-book, which I will now consider.  Ha! what means this?  What do I with a Sword?  Learn’d Mercury needs not th’ 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 ’twas 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 judgment.

Eust.  Now, Sir, treat of no other Theme, I’le keep you to it, and see y’expound it well.

Char. Eustace!

Eust.  The same, Sir, your younger Brother, who, as duty binds him, hath all this night (turn’d out of door) attended, to bid Good-morrow t’ye.

Char.  This not in scorn, commands me to return it.  Would you ought else?

Eust.  O much, Sir, here I end not, but begin; I must speak to you in another strain than yet I ever us’d; and if the language appear in the delivery rough and harsh, you (being my Tutor) must condemn your self, from whom I learn’d it.

Char.  When I understand (be’t in what style you please) what’s your demand, I shall endeavour, in the self-same phrase, to make an answer to the point.