_Bri._ You go too fast.
_Mir._ I'am not come to my pace yet. Because h'has made his study all his
pleasure, and is retir'd into his Contemplation, not medling with the dirt
and chaff of Nature, that makes the spirit of the mind mud too; therefore
must he be flung from his inheritance? must he be dispossess'd, and
Monsieur Gingle-boy his younger Brother--
_Bri._ You forget your self.
_Mir._ Because h'has been at Court, and learn'd new Tongues, and how to
speak a tedious piece of nothing; to vary his face as Sea-men do their
compass, to worship Images of gold and silver, and fall before the She-
calves of the season; therefore must he jump into his Brother's Land?
_Bri._ Have you done yet, and have you spoke enough in praise of Learning,
Sir?
_Mir._ Never enough.
_Bri._ But, Brother, do you know what Learning is?
_Mir._ It is not to be a Justice of Peace as you are, and palter out your
time i'th' penal Statutes. To hear the curious Tenets controverted between
a Protestant Constable, and Jesuite Cobler; to pick Natural Philosophy out
of Bawdry, when your Worship's pleas'd to correctifie a Lady; nor 'tis not
the main Moral of blind Justice, (which is deep Learning) when your
Worships Tenants bring a light cause, and heavy Hens before ye, both fat
and feeble, a Goose or Pig; and then you'll sit like equity with both
hands weighing indifferently the state o'th' question. These are your
Quodlibets, but no Learning, Brother.
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