Ha! 'tis neere day,
And if the Muses friend rose-cheek'd _Aurora_,
Invite him to this solitary grove,
As I much hope she will, he seldome missing
To pay his vowes here to her, I shall hazard
To hinder his devotions--The doore opens-- _Enter Charles._
Tis he most certain, and by's side my sword,
Blest opportunity. _Cha._ I have oreslept my selfe,
And lost part of the morne, but Ile recover it:
Before I went to bed, I wrote some notes
Within my table-book, which I will now consider.
Ha! What meanes this? What do I with a sword?
Learn'd _Mercurie_ needs not th'aide of _Mars_, and innocence
Is to it selfe a guard, yet since armes ever
Protect arts, I may justly weare and use it;
For since't was made my prize, I know not how
I'me growne in love with't and cannot eate nor study,
And much lesse walke without it: but I trifle,
Matters of more weight ask my judgement. _Eust._ Now Sir,
Treate of no other Theme, Ile keep you to it,
And see y'expound it well. _Cha._ _Eustace_! _Eust._ The same Sir,
Your younger brother, who as duty bindes him,
Hath all this night (turn'd out of doores) attended,
To bid good morrow t'ye. _Cha._ This not in scorne,
Commands me to returne it; Would you ought else?
_Eust._ O much, Sir, here I end not, but begin;
I must speak to you in another straine,
Than yet I ever us'd, and if the language
Appeare in the delivery rough and harsh,
You (being my Tutor) must condemne your selfe,
From whom I learn'd it.
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