Eust. May all the poorenesse of my spirit goe with you,
The fetters of my thraldome are filed off: 
And I at libertie to right my selfe,
And though my hope in Angellina’s little,
My honour (unto which compar’d shee’s nothing)
Shall like the Sun disperse those lowring Clouds
That yet obscure and dimme it; not the name
Of brother shall divert me, but from him,
That in the worlds opinion ruin’d me,
I will seek reparation, and call him
Unto a strict accompt.  Ha! ’tis neere 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 vowes here to her, I shall hazard
To hinder his devotions—­The doore opens—­ Enter Charles.
Tis he most certain, and by’s side my sword,
Blest opportunity. Cha. I have oreslept my selfe,
And lost part of the morne, but Ile recover it: 
Before I went to bed, I wrote some notes
Within my table-book, which I will now consider. 
Ha!  What meanes this?  What do I with a sword? 
Learn’d Mercurie needs not th’aide of Mars, and innocence
Is to it selfe a guard, yet since armes ever
Protect arts, I may justly weare and use it;
For since’t was made my prize, I know not how
I’me growne in love with’t and cannot eate nor study,
And much lesse walke without it:  but I trifle,
Matters of more weight ask my judgement. Eust. Now Sir,
Treate of no other Theme, Ile keep you to it,
And see y’expound it well. Cha. Eustace! Eust. The same Sir,
Your younger brother, who as duty bindes him,
Hath all this night (turn’d out of doores) attended,
To bid good morrow t’ye. Cha. This not in scorne,
Commands me to returne it; Would you ought else?

Eust. O much, Sir, here I end not, but begin;
I must speak to you in another straine,
Than yet I ever us’d, and if the language
Appeare in the delivery rough and harsh,
You (being my Tutor) must condemne your selfe,
From whom I learn’d it. Cha. When I understand
(Bee’t in what stile you please) what’s your demand,
I shall endeavour in the self same phrase
To make an answer to the point. Eust. I come not
To lay claime to your birthright, ’tis your owne,
And ’tis fit you enjoy it, nor ask I from you
Your learning and deepe knowledge; (though I am not
A Schollar as you are) I know them Diamonds
By your sole industry, patience and labour
Forc’d from steepe rocks, and with much toile attended,
And but to few that prize their value granted,
And therefore without rival freely weare them.