_Eust._ Shee's mine Sir, fear it not:
In all my travailes, I nere met a Virgin
That could resist my Courtship. _Eust._ If take now,
Ware made for ever, and will revel it. _Exeunt._
_And._ In tough Welsh parsly, which in our vulgar Tongue
Is strong hempen halters; My poore Master coo'znd,
And I a looker on! If we have studied
Our majors, and our minors, antecedents,
And consequents, to be concluded coxcombes,
W have made a faire hand on't; I am glad I h've found
Out all their plots, and their conspiracies;
This shall t' old Mounsieur _Miramont_, one, that though
He cannot read a Proclamation, yet
Dotes on learning, and loves my Master _Charles_
For being a Schollar; I hear hee's comming hither,
I shall meet him, and if he be that old
Rough teasty blade he always us'd to be,
I'le ring him such a peale as shall go neere
To shake their belroome, peradventure, beat 'm,
For he is fire and flaxe, and so have at him. _Exit_.
_Finis Actus primi_.
_Actus 2. Scena I._
Miramont, Brisac.
Nay Brother, brother. _Bri._ Pray Sir be not moved,
I meddle in no business but mine own,
And in mine owne 'tis reason I should governe.
_Mir._ But how to govern then, and understand Sir,
And be as wise as y'are hasty, though you be
My brother, and from one bloud sprung, I must tell yee
Heartily and home too. _Br._ What Sir? _Mir._ What I grieve to find
You are a foole, and an old foole, and that's two.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120