Bri.  He cannot out of his University tone.

Enter Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.

Eust.  Lackey, take care our Coursers be well rubb’d, and cloath’d; they have out-stripp’d the Wind in speed.

Lew.  I marry, Sir, there’s metal in this young Fellow!  What a Sheep’s look his elder Brother has!

Char.  Your blessing, Sir.

Bri.  Rise, Charles, thou hast it.

Eust.  Sir, though it be unusual in the Court, (since ’tis the Courtiers garb) I bend my knee, and do expert what follows.

Bri.  Courtly begg’d.  My blessing, take it.

Eust. (to Lew.) Your Lordship’s vow’d adorer.  What a thing this Brother is! yet I’le vouchsafe him the new Italian shrug—­ How clownishly the Book-worm does return it!

Char.  I’m glad ye are well. [Reads.

Eust.  Pray you be happy in the knowledge of this pair of accomplish’d Monsieurs; they are Gallants that have seen both Tropicks.

Bri.  I embrace their love.

Egr.  Which we’ll repay with servulating.

Cow.  And will report your bounty in the Court.

Bri.  I pray you make deserving use on’t first. Eustace, give entertainment to your Friends; what’s in my house is theirs.

Eust.  Which we’ll make use of; let’s warm our brains with half a dozen Healths, and then hang cold discourse, for we’ll speak Fire-works. [Ex.

Lew. What, at his Book already?

Bri. Fie, fie, Charles, no hour of interruption?

Char. Plato differs from Socrates in this.

Bri. Come, lay them by; let them agree at leisure.

Char. Man’s life, Sir, being so short, and then the way that leads unto the knowledge of our selves, so long and tedious, each minute should be precious.

Bri. In our care to manage worldly business, you must part with this Bookish contemplation, and prepare your self for action; to thrive in this Age is held the blame of Learning:  You must study to know what part of my Land’s good for the Plough, and what for Pasture; how to buy and sell to the best advantage; how to cure my Oxen when they’re o’er-grown with labour.

Char. I may do this from what I’ve read, Sir; for, what concerns Tillage, who better can deliver it than Virgil in his Georgicks? and to cure your Herds, his Bucolicks is a Masterpiece; but when he does describe the Commonwealth of Bees, their industry, and knowledge of the herbs from which they gather Honey, with their care to place it with decorum in the Hive; their Government among themselves, their order in going forth, and coming loaden home; their obedience to their King, and his rewards to such as labour, with his punishments only inflicted on the slothful Drone; I’m ravish’d with it, and there reap my Harvest, and there receive the gain my Cattle bring me, and there find Wax and Honey.