 | The Elder Brother |  |
SCENA V.
Enter Lewis, Angellina, Eustace, Priest, Ladies, Cowsy, Notary, and Miramont.Not.
Come, let him bring his Sons hand, and all's done.
Is your's ready?
Pri.
Yes, I'll dispatch ye presently, immediately, for
in truth I am a hungry.
Eust.
Do, speak apace, for we believe exactly: do not
we stay long, Mistress?
Ang.
I find no fault, better things well done, than want
time to do them. Uncle, why are you sad?
Mir.
Sweet smelling blossom, would I were thine Uncle
to thine own content, I'd make thy Husband's state a
thousand better, a yearly thousand. Thou hast mist a man,
(but that he is addicted to his study, and knows no other
Mistress than his mind) would weigh down bundles of these
empty kexes.
Ang.
Can he speak, Sir?
Mir.
Faith yes, but not to Women; his language is
to Heaven, and heavenly wonder; to Nature, and her dark
and secret causes.
Ang.
And does he speak well there?
Mir.
O admirably! but he's too bashful to behold a
Woman, there's none that sees him, aud he troubles none.
Ang.
He is a man.
Mir.
Faith yes, and a clear sweet spirit.
Ang.
Then conversation me thinks—
Mir.
So think I; but it is his rugged Fate, and so I
leave you.
Ang.
I like thy nobleness.
Eust.
See my mad Uncle is courting my fair Mistress.
Lew.
Let him alone; there's nothing that allays an angry
mind so soon as a sweet Beauty: he'll come to us.
Enter Brisac, and Charles.
Eust.
My Father's here, my Brother too! that's a wonder,
broke like a Spirit from his Cell.
Bri.
Come hither, come nearer, Charles; 'twas your
desire to see my noble Daughter, and the company, and
give your Brother joy, and then to Seal, Boy; you do, like
a good Brother.
Lew.
Marry does he, and he shall have my love for ever
for't. Put to your hand now.
Not.
Here's the Deed, Sir, ready.
Char.
No, you must pardon me a while, I tell ye, I am
in contemplation, do not trouble me.
Bri.
Come, leave thy Study, Charles.
Char.
I'll leave my life first; I study 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?
Char.
No, Brother, no; I have no time for poor things,
I'm taking the height of that bright Constellation.
Bri.
I say you trifle time, Son.
Char.
I will not seal, Sir; I am your Eldest, and I'll keep
my Birth-right, for Heaven forbid I should become example:
Had y'only shew'd me Land, I had deliver'd it, and
been a proud man to have parted with it; 'tis dirt, and labour.
Do I speak right, Uncle?
Mir.
Bravely, my Boy, and bless thy tongue.
Char.
I'll 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?
Char.
Such an inimitable piece of Beauty, that I have
studied long, and now found only, that I'll part sooner with
my soul of Reason, and be a Plant, a Beast, a Fish, a Flie,
and only make the number of things up, than yield to one
foot of Land, if she be ti'd to't.
Lew.
He speaks unhappily.
Ang.
And methinks bravely. This the meer Scholar?
Eust.
You but vex your self, Brother, and vex your
study too.
Char.
Go you and study, for 'tis time, young Eustace;
you want both man and manners; I've study'd both, although
I made no shew on't. Go turn the Volumes over
I have read, eat and digest them, that they may grow in
thee; wear out the tedious night with thy dim Lamp, and
sooner lose the day, than leave a doubt. Distil the sweetness
from the Poets Spring, and learn to love; thou
know'st not what fair is: Traverse the stories of the great
Heroes, the wise and civil lives of good men walk through;
thou hast seen nothing but the face of Countrys, and brought
home nothing but their empty words: why shouldst thou
wear a Jewel of this worth, that hast no worth within thee
to preserve her?
Where the Air
Rather like a perfume dwells,
Where the Violet and the Rose
The blew Veins in blush disclose,
And come to honour nothing else.
And planted there,
Is to live, and still live new;
Where to gain a favour is
More than light, perpetual bliss,
Make me live by serving you.
To this light,
A stranger to himself and all;
Both the wonder and the story
Shall be yours, and eke the glory;
I am your servant and your thrall.
Mir.
Speak such another Ode, and take all yet. What
say ye to the Scholar now?
Ang.
I wonder; is he your Brother, Sir?
Eust.
Yes, would he were buried; I fear he'll make an
Ass of me a younger.
Ang.
Speak not so softly, Sir, 'tis very likely.
Bri.
Come, leave your sinical talk, and let's dispatch,
Charles.
Char.
Dispatch, what?
Bri.
Why the Land.
Char.
You are deceiv'd, Sir. Now I perceive what 'tis
that wooes a woman, and what maintains her when she's
woo'd: I'll stop here. A wilful poverty ne'er made a
Beauty, nor want of means maintain'd it vertuously: though
land and moneys be no happiness, yet they are counted
good additions. That use I'll make; he that neglects a
blessing, though he want a present knowledge how to use
it, neglects himself. May be I have done you wrong, Lady,
whose love and hope went hand in hand together;
may be my Brother, that has long expected the happy hour,
and bless'd my ignorance; pray give me leave, Sir, I shall
clear all doubts; why did they shew me you? pray tell me
that?
(He'll talk thee into a pension for thy knavery.)
Char.
You, happy you, why did you break unto me?
The Rosie sugred morn ne'er broke so sweetly: I am a man,
and have desires within me, affections too, though they
were drown'd a while, and lay dead, till the Spring of beauty
rais'd them; till I saw those eyes, I was but a lump, a
chaos of confusedness dwelt in me; then from those eyes
shot Love, and he distinguish'd, and into form he drew
my faculties; and now I know my Land, and now I love
too.
Bri.
We had best remove the Maid.
Char.
It is too late, Sir. I have her figure here. Nay
frown not, Eustace, there are less worthy Souls for younger
Brothers; this is no form of Silk, but Sanctity, which wild
lascivious hearts can never dignifie. Remove her where
you will, I walk along still, for, like the light, we make
no separation; you may sooner part the Billows of the Sea,
and put a barr betwixt their fellowships, than blot out my
remembrance; sooner shut old Time into a Den, and stay
his motion, wash off the swift hours from his downy wings,
or steal Eternity to stop his glass, than shut the sweet Idea
I have in me. Room for an Elder Brother, pray give
place, Sir.
Mir.
H'as studied duel too; take heed, he'll beat thee.
H'as frighted the old Justice into a Feaver; I hope he'll disinherit
him too for an Ass; for though he be grave with
years, he's a great Baby.
Char.
Do not you think me mad?
Ang.
No certain, Sir, I have heard nothing from you
but things excellent.
Char.
You look upon my cloaths, and laugh at me, my
scurvy cloaths!
Ang.
They have rich linings, Sir. I would your Brother—
Char.
His are gold and gawdie.
Ang.
But touch 'em inwardly, they smell of Copper.
Char.
Can ye love me? I am an Heir, sweet Lady, however
I appear a poor dependent; love you with honour, I
shall love so ever. Is your eye ambitious? I may be a
great man; is't wealth or lands you covet? my Father
must die.
Mir.
That was well put in, I hope he'll take it deeply.
Char.
Old men are not immortal, as I take it; is it you
look for, youth and handsomness? I do confess my Brother's
a handsome Gentleman, but he shall give me leave
to lead the way, Lady. Can you love for love, and make
that the reward? The old man shall not love his heaps of
Gold with a more doting superstition, than I'le love you.
The young man his delights, the Merchant, when he ploughs
the angry Sea up, and sees the mountain billows falling on
him, as if all the Elements, and all their angers, were turn'd
into one vow'd destruction; shall not with greater joy
embrace his safety. We'll live together like two wanton
Vines, circling our souls and loves in one another, we'll
spring together, and we'll bear one fruit; one joy shall make
us smile, and one grief mourn; one age go with us, and
one hour of death shall shut our eyes, and one grave make
us happy.
Ang.
And one hand seal the Match, I'm yours for ever.
Lew.
Nay, stay, stay, stay
Ang.
Nay certainly, 'tis done, Sir.
Bri.
There was a contract.
Ang.
Only conditional, that if he had the Land, he had
my love too; this Gentleman's the Heir, and he'll maintain
it. Pray be not angry, Sir, at what I say; or if you
be, 'tis at your own adventure. You have the out-side of
a pretty Gentleman, but by my troth your inside is but barren;
'tis not a face I only am in love with, nor will I say
your face is excellent, a reasonable hunting face to court
the wind with; nor they're not words, unless they be well
plac'd too, not your sweet Dam-mes, nor your hired
Verses, nor telling me of Clothes, nor Coach and Horses,
no nor your visits each day in new Suits, nor your black
Patches you wear variously, some cut like Stars, some in
Half-moons, some Lozenges, (all which but shew you still
a younger Brother.)
Mir.
Gramercy, Wench, thou hast a noble Soul too.
Ang.
Nor your long travels, nor your little knowledge
can make me doat upon you. Faith go study, and glean
some goodness, that you may shew manly; your Brother
at my suit I'm sure will teach you; or only study how to
get a Wife, Sir. Y'are cast far behind, 'tis good you should
be melancholy, it shews like a Gamester that had lost harmony;
and 'tis the fashion to wear your arm in a skarf, Sir,
for your have had a shrewd cut o'er the fingers.
Lew.
But are y'in earnest?
Ang.
Yes, believe me, Father, you shall ne'er choose for
me; y'are old and dim, Sir, and th'shadow of the earth
Eclips'd your judgment. Y'have had your time without
control, dear Father, and you must give me leave to take
mine now, Sir.
Bri.
This is the last time of asking, will you set your
hand to?
Char.
This is the last time of answering, I will never.
Bri.
Out of my doors.
Char.
Most willingly.
Mir.
He shall, Jew, thou of the Tribe of Many-asses
Coxcomb, and never trouble thee more till thy chops be
cold, fool.
Ang.
Must I be gone too?
Lew.
I will never know thee.
Ang.
Then this man will; what Fortune he shall run,
Father, be't good or bad, I must partake it with him.
Enter Egremont.
Egre.
When shall the Masque begin?
Eust.
'Tis done already; all, all is broken off, I am undone,
Friend, my Brother's wise again, and has spoil'd all
will not release the Land, has won the Wench too.
Egre.
Could he not stay till the Masque was past? w'are
ready. What a scurvy trick's this?
Mir.
O you may vanish, perform it at some Hall, where
the Citizens Wives may see't for Six pence a piece, and a
cold Supper. Come, let's go, Charles. And now, my
noble Daughter, I'le sell the Tiles of my House, e're thou
shalt want, Wench. Rate up your Dinner, Sir, and sell
it cheap: some younger Brother will take't up in Commodities.
Send you joy, Nephew Eustace; if you study the
Law, keep your great Pippin-pies, they'll go far with ye.
Char.
I'd have your blessing.
Bri.
No, no, meet me no more. Farewel, thou wilt
blast mine eyes else.
Char.
I will not.
Lew.
Nor send not you for Gowns.
Ang.
I'll wear course Flannel first.
Bri.
Come, let's go take some counsel.
Lew.
'Tis too late.
Bri.
Then stay and dine; it may be we shall vex 'em.
[Exeunt
| The Elder Brother | |