_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 never knew a Blade above a Pen-knife, and
how to cut 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 flanting 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.
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