 | The Elder Brother |  |
Scena Prima.
Enter Brisac, Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.Brisac.
Ne'er talk to me, you are no men but Masquers;
shapes, shadows, and the signs of men, Court-
bubbles, that every breath or breaks or blows away. You
have no souls, no metal in your bloods, no heat to stir ye
when ye have occasion: frozen dull things, that must be
turn'd with Leavers. Are you the Courtiers, and the
travell'd Gallants? the spritely Fellows that the people talk
of? Ye have no more spirit than three sleepy sopes.
Eust.
What would ye have me do, Sir?
Bri.
Follow your Brother, and get ye out of doors, and
seek your Fortune. Stand still becalm'd, and let an aged
Dotard, a hair-brain'd Puppy, and a Bookish Boy, that
his meat in Characters, cross my design, and take thine own
Wench from thee, in mine own house too? Thou despis'd
poor fellow!
Eust.
The reverence that I ever bare to you, Sir, then
to my Uncle, with whom 't had been but sawciness t'have
been so rough—
Egre.
And we not seeing him strive in his own cause,
that was principal, and should have led us on, thought it ill
manners to begin a quarrel here.
Bri.
You dare do nothing. Do you make your care the
excuse of your Cowardise? Three Boys on Hobby-horses,
with three penny Halberds, would beat you all.
Cow.
You must not say so.
Bri.
Yes, and sing it too.
Cow.
You are a man of peace, therefore we must give
way.
Bri.
I'll make my way, and therefore quickly leave me,
or I'll force you; and having first torn off your slanting
feathers, I'll trample on 'em; and if that cannot teach you
to quit my house I'll, kick ye out of my gates; you gawdy
Glow-worms, carrying seeming fire, yet have no heat within
ye.
Cow.
O blest travel! how much we owe thee for our
power to suffer?
Egre.
Some splenetive Youths now, that had never seen
more than thy Country smoak, will grow in choler; it
would shew fine in us.
Eust.
Yes marry would it, that are prime Courtiers, and
must know no angers, but give thanks for our injuries, if
we purpose to hold our places.
Bri.
Will you find the door? and find it suddenly? you
shall lead the way, Sir, with your perfum'd retinue, and
recover the now lost Angellina, or build on it, I will adopt
some beggar's doubtful issue, before thou shalt inherit.
Eust.
We'll to counsel, and what may be done by man's
wit or valour, we'll put in Execution.
Bri.
Do, or never hope I shall know thee.
[Exeunt.
Enter Lewis.
Lew.
O Sir, have I found you?
Bri.
I never hid my self; whence flows this fury, with
which, as it appears, you come to fright me?
Lew.
I smell a plot, meer conspiracy amongst ye all to
defeat me of my Daughter; and if she be not suddenly deliver'd,
untainted in her reputation too, the best of France
shall know how I am jugled with. She is my Heir, and if
she may be ravish'd thus from my care, farewel Nobility;
Honour and Blood are meer neglected nothings.
Bri.
Nay then, my Lord, you go too far, and tax him,
whose innocency understands not what fear is. If your
unconstant Daughter will not dwell on certainties, must
you thenceforth conclude that I am fickle? what have I
omitted, to make good my integrity and truth? nor can
her lightness, nor your supposition, cast an aspersion on me.
Lew.
I am wounded in fact, nor can words cure it: do
not trifle, but speedily, once more I do repeat it, restore
my Daughter as I brought her hither, or you shall hear
from me in such a kind, as you will blush to answer.
Bri.
All the world, I think, conspires to vex me, yet I
will not torment my self: some sprightful mirth must banish
the rage and melancholy which hath almost choak'd me;
t' a knowing man 'tis Physick, and 'tis thought on; one
merry hour I'll have in spight of Fortune, to chear my
heart, and this is that appointed; this night I'll hug my
Lilly in mine arms, provocatives are sent before to chear
me, we old men need 'em, and though we pay dear for
our stoln pleasures, so it be done securely, the charge much
like a sharp sauce, gives 'em relish. Well, honest Andrew,
I gave you a Farm, and it shall have a Beacon, to give
warning to my other Tenants when the Foe approaches;
and presently, you being bestowed else-where, I'le graff it,
with dexterity on your forehead; indeed I will, Lilly, I
come, poor Andrew.
[Exit.
| The Elder Brother | |