Mat. [reads.] To thee purest object of my sense,
The most refined essence beaven covers,

Send I these lines wherein I do commence
The bappy state of turtle-billing lovers.

Bob. "Tis good, proceed, proceed, Where's this?
Mat. This, sir, a toy o' mine own, in my nonage: the
infancy of my muses: but, when will you come and see
my study? Good faith, I can shew you some very good
things, I have done of late-That boot becomes your
leg, passing well, captain, methinks !

Bob. So, so, it's the fashion gentlemen now use.

Mat. Troth, captain, and now you speak o' the fashion, master Well-bred's elder brother, and I, are fall'n out exceedingly this other day, I happen'd to enter into some discourse of a hanger, which I assure you, both for fashion and workmanship, was most peremptory beautiful, and gentleman-like! yet he condemn'd, and cry'd it down, for the most pied, and ridiculous that ever he saw.

Bob. 'Squire Down-right, the half brother? was't not?
Mat. Ay, Sir, George Down-right.

Bob. Hang him, rook, he! why, he has no more judgement than a malt-horse. By St George, I wonder you'd lose a thought upon such an animal; the most peremptory absurd clown of Christendom, this day, he is holden. I protest to you, as I am a gentleman and soldier, I ne'er chang'd words with his like. By his discourse, he should eat nothing but hay. He was born for the menger, pannier, or pack-saddle! he has not so much as a good phrase in his belly, but all old iron and rusty proverbs! a good commodity for some smith to make hob-nails of.

Mat. Ay' and he thinks to carry it away with his manhood still, where he comes. He brags he will gi' me the bastinado, as I hear.

Bob. How! he the bastinado! how came he by that word, trow?

Mat. Nay, indeed he said codgel me; I term'd it so for my more grace.

Bob. That may be; for I was sure, it was none of his word. But when? when said he so ?

Mat. Faith, yesterday, they say; a young gallant, a friend of mine told me so.

Bob By the foot of Pharoab, an' 'twere my case now, I

བའི་ འཁྲོགས་འདང;

should

should send him a challenge, presently. The bustinado! A most proper, and sufficient dependence, warranted by the great Caranza. Come hither, you shall challenge him. I'll shew you a trick or two, you shall kill him with, at pleasure; the first stoccata, if you will by this air.

Mat. Indeed you have absolute knowledge i' the mystery, I have heard, Sir.

Bob. Of whom? of whom ha' you heard it, I beseech you?

Mat. Troth, I have heard it, spoken of by divers, that you have very rare and un-in-one-breath-utterable skill, Sir.

bo

Bob. By heaven, no not I: no skill i' the earth; some small rudimentsi' the science, as to know my time distance, or so. I have profest it more for noblemen, and gentlemen's use, than mine. own practice, I assure you. I'll give you a lesson. Look you, sir. Exalt not your point above this state, at any hand: so, sir. Come on; O, twine your dy more about, that you may fall to a more sweet comely gentleman-like guard. So, indifferent. Hollow your body more sir, thus. Now, stand fast o'your left leg, note your distance, keep your due proportion of time-Oh, you disorder your point most irregularly! Come, put on your cloke; and we'll go to some private piace, where you are acquainted, some tavern, or so and have a bitmoney ha' you about you, Mr Matthew?

-what

We will

Mat. Faith, I ha' not past two shillings, or so. Bob. 'Tis somewhat with the least; but come. have a bunch of radishes, and salt, to taste our wine: and a pipe of tobacco, to close the orific of the stomach: and then we'll call upon young Well-bred. Perhaps we shall meet the Corydon, his brother, there; and put him to the question. Come along, Mr Matthew. [Exeunt.

A C T. II.

SCENE. I.

A Warehouse belonging, to KITELY.

Enter KITELY, CASH, and Down-RIGHT.

KITZLY.

T

HOMAS, come hither,

There lies a note within, upon my desk,

Here

"

Here take my key; it is no matter, neither,
Where is the boy?

Cash Within, sir, i' the warehouse.

Kit. Let him tell over straignt that Spanish gold,
And weigh it, with th' pieces of eight. Do you.
See the delivery of those silver stuffs

To Mr Lucar. Tell him, if he will,

He shal ha' the Grogans at the rate I told him,
And I wild meet him on the Exchange, anon

Casb. Good, sir.

[Exit.

Kite. Do you see that fellow, brother Down-right ?
Dew. I, what of him:

Kite. He is a jewel, brother,

I took him of a child, up, to my door,

And chris'en'd him, give him my own name, Thomas ;
Since bied him, at the Hospital; where proving

A toward imp, i call'd him home, and taught him
So ouch, as I have made him my cashier,
And find hin, in his place, so fuil of faith,

That I durst trust my life i to his hands.

Dow. So would not I, in any bastard's brother,
As it is like, he is; although I knew,

Myself his father.

But you said you'd somewhat

To tell me, gentle brother what is't?

Kite. Faith, I am very loth to utter it,

As fearing it may hurt your patience;

But, that I know your judgment is of strength,

Against the nearness of affection

Dow. What need this circumstance? Pray you be di

rect.

Kile. I will not say how much I do ascribe
Unto your friendship; nor, in what regard
I hold your love; but let my past behaviour,
And usage of your sister, but coufirm

How well I've been affected to your

Dow. You are too tedious, come to the matter, the

matter.

Kite. Then, without further ceremony, thus.

My brother Well-bred, Sir, (I know not now)
Of late, is much declin'd in what he was,
And greatly alter'd in his disposition.
When he came first to lodge here in my house,
Ne'er trust me if I were not proud of him ;

Met hought

Methough he bare himself in such a fashion,
So full of man, and sweetness in his carriage,

And, what was chief, it shew'd not borrow'd in him,
But all he did became him as his own,

And seem'd as perfect, proper and possest

As breath with life, or colour with the blood.
But now his course is so irregular,

So loose, effected, and depriv d of grace,
And he himself withal so fal'n off,

From that tirst place, as scarce no note remains,
To tell men's judginents where he lately stood.
He's grown a stranger to all due respect,
Forgetful of his friends, and not content
To stale himself in all societies,

He makes my house here common as a marf,
A theatre, a public receptacle,

For giddy humour and diseased riot;
And here (as in a tavern or a stew,)

He, and his wild associates, spend their hours,

In repitition of lascivious jests;

Swear, leap, drink, dance, and revel night by night,
Controul my servants; and indeed what not?

Dow. 'Sdains, I know not what I should say to him i' the whole world! he values me at a crack'd three farthings, for ought I see; it will never out o' the flesh that's bred i' the bone! I have told him enough, one would think if that would serve. Well! he knows what to trust to, for George. Let him spend and spend, and domineer, till this heart ake an he think to be relieved by me, when he is got into one o' your city ponds, the counters, he has the wrong sow by the ear, i' faith, and claps his dish at a wrong man's door. I'll lay my hand o' my halfpenny, ere I part with't to fetch him out, I'll assure him.

Kite. Nay, good brother, let it not trouble you thus.

Dow. 'Sdeath, he mad's me: I could eat my very spurleathers, for anger! but, why are you so tame? why do not you speak to him, and tell him how he disquiets your house?

Kite. O, there are divers reasons to dissuade, brother: But, would yourself vouchsafe to travail in it, (Though but with plain and easy circumstance) It would, both come much better to his sense, And savour less of stomach, or of passion,

You

You are his elder brother and that title
Both gives and warra ts you authority;
Whereas, if I should intimate the least,
It would but add contempt to his neglect.
Heap worse on ill, make up a pile of hatred,
That, in the rearing would come tott'ring down,
And, in the ruin, bury all our love.

Nay, more than this, brother; if I should speak
He would be ready, from his heat of humour,
And over-flowing of the vapour, in him,
To blow the ears of his familiars,

With the false breath, of telling what disgraces,
And low disparagements I had put upon him.
Whilst they, sir, to relieve him in the fable,
Make their loose comments upon ev'ry word,
Gesture, or look, I use; mock me all over,
And out of their impetuous rioting phant'sies,.
Beget some sander, that shail dwell with me.
And what would that be, think you? marry, this,
They would give out (because my wife is fair,
Myself but newly married, and my sister
Here sojourning a virgin in my house)
That I were jealous! nay as sure as death,

That they would say. And how that I had quarrell'd
My brother purposely, thereby to find

An apt pretext to banish them my house.

Dow. Mass, perhaps so; they're like enough to do it. Kite. Brother, they would believe it; so should I

(Like one of these penurious quack-salvers)

But set the bills up to mine own disgrace,

And try experiments upon myself;

Lend scorn and envy opportunity

To stab my reputation and good name

Enter MATTHEW and BOBADIL.

Mat. I will speak to him

Bob. Speak to him? away, by the foot of Pharoah, you shali not, you shall not do him that grace.

Kite. What's the matter, sirs?

Bob. The time of day, to you, gentlemen o' the house.

Is Mr Well-bred stirring?

Dow. How then? what should he do?

Bob.