eed,
And have an elder wit, thou'dst shame us all else.
Go too, I say, _Charles_ shall inherit. _Bri._ I say no,
Unless _Charles_ had a soul to understand it;
Can he manage six thousand Crowns a yeare
Out of the Metaphysicks? or can all
His learn'd Astronomy look to my Vineyards?
Can the drunken old Poets make up my Vines?
(I know they can drinke 'm) or your excellent Humanists
Sell 'm the Merchants for my best advantage?
Can History cut my hay, or get my Corne in?
And can Geometrie vent it in the market?
Shall I have my sheepe kept with a _Jacobs_ staffe now?
I wonder you will magnifie this mad man,
You that are old and should understand. _Mir._ Should, sai'st thou,
Thou monstrous peece of ignorance in office!
Thou that hast no more knowledge than thy Clerk infuses,
Thy dapper Clerk larded with ends of Latin,
And he no more than custom of offences;
Thou unrepriveable Dunce! that thy formal band strings,
Thy Ring nor pomander cannot expiate for,
Do'st thou tell me I should? Ile pose thy Worship
In thine own Libraty an Almanack,
Which thou art dayly poring on to pick out
Dayes of iniquity to cozen fooles in,
And full Moones to cut Cattel; do'st thou taint me,
That have run over Story, Poetry,
Humanity? _Bri._ As a cold nipping shadow
Does ore eares of Corne, and leave 'em blasted,
Put up your anger, what Ile do Ile do.

_Mir._ Thou shall not doe. _Bri._ I will. _Mir._ Thou art an Asse then,
A dull old tedious Asse, th['] art ten times worse
And of lesse credit than Dunce _Hollingshead_
The Englishman, that writes of snowes and Sheriffes.

_Enter_ Lewis.

_Bri._ Wel take you pleasure, here's one I must talke with.

_Lew._ Good day Sir. _Bri._ Faire to you Sir. _Lew._ May I speake w'ye?

_Bri._ With all my heart, I was waiting on your goodness.

_Lew._ Good morrow Mo[n]sieur _Miramont_. _Mir._ O sweet Sir,
Keep your good morrow to coole your Worships pottage,
A couple of the worlds fooles met together
To raise up dirt and dunghils. _Lew._ Are they drawne?

_Bri._ They shall be ready Sir, within these two houres;
And _Charles_ set his hand. _Lew._ 'Tis necessary;
For he being a joint purchaser, though your state
Was got by your owne industrie, unlesse
He seale to the Conveyance, it can be
Of no validity. _Bri._ He shall be ready,
And do it willingly. _Mir._ He shall be hang'd first.

_Bri._ I hope your daughter likes. _Lew._ S[h]e loves him well Sir.
Young _Eustace_ is a bait to catch