ounty in the Court.
_Bri_. I pray you make deserving use on't first. _Eustace_, give
entertainment to your Friends; what's in my house is theirs.
_Eust_. Which we'll make use of; let's warm our brains with half a dozen
Healths, and then hang cold discourse, for we'll speak Fire-works. [_Ex_.
_Lew._ What, at his Book already?
_Bri._ Fie, fie, _Charles_, no hour of interruption?
_Char._ Plato differs from Socrates in this.
_Bri._ Come, lay them by; let them agree at leisure.
_Char._ Man's life, Sir, being so short, and then the way that leads unto
the knowledge of our selves, so long and tedious, each minute should be
precious.
_Bri._ In our care to manage worldly business, you must part with this
Bookish contemplation, and prepare your self for action; to thrive in this
Age is held the blame of Learning: You must study to know what part of my
Land's good for the Plough, and what for Pasture; how to buy and sell to
the best advantage; how to cure my Oxen when they're o'er-grown with
labour.
_Char._ I may do this from what I've read, Sir; for, what concerns
Tillage, who better can deliver it than _Virgil_ in his _Georgicks_? and
to cure your Herds, his _Bucolicks_ is a Masterpiece; but when he does
describe the Commonwealth of Bees, their industry, and knowledge of the
herbs from which they gather Honey, with their care to place it with
_decorum_ in the Hive; their Government among themselves, their order in
going forth, and coming loaden home; their obedience to their King, and
his rewards to such as labour, with his punishments only inflicted on the
slothful Drone; I'm ravish'd with it, and there reap my Harvest, and there
receive the gain my Cattle bring me, and there find Wax and Honey.
_Bri._ And grow rich in your imagination; heyday, heyday! _Georgicks_,
_Bucolicks_, and Bees! art mad?
_Char._ No, Sir, the knowledge of these guards me from it.
_Bri._ But can you find among your bundle of Books (and put in all your
Dictionaries that speak all Tongues) what pleasure they enjoy, that do
embrace a well-shap'd wealthy Bride? Answer me that.
_Char._ 'Tis frequent, Sir, in Story, there I read of all kind of virtuous
and vitious women; the antient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladies, their
Beauties and Deformities; and when I light upon a _Portia_ or _Cornelia_,
crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness; with such a
feeling I peruse their Fortunes, as if I then had liv'd, and freely
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