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.
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