while, I tell ye, I am in contemplation,
do not trouble me.

_Bri._ Come, leave thy Study, _Charles_.

_Char._ I'll leave my life first; I study now to be a man, I've found it.
Before what Man was, was but my Argument.

_Mir._ I like this best of all, he has taken fire, his dull mist flies
away.

_Eust._ Will you write, Brother?

_Char._ No, Brother, no; I have no time for poor things, I'm taking the
height of that bright Constellation.

_Bri._ I say you trifle time, Son.

_Char._ I will not seal, Sir; I am your Eldest, and I'll keep my
Birth-right, for Heaven forbid I should become example: Had y'only shew'd
me Land, I had deliver'd it, and been a proud man to have parted with it;
'tis dirt, and labour. Do I speak right, Uncle?

_Mir._ Bravely, my Boy, and bless thy tongue.

_Char._ I'll forward: but you have open'd to me such a treasure, I find my
mind free; Heaven direct my fortune.

_Mir._ Can he speak now? Is this a son to sacrifice?

_Char._ Such an inimitable piece of Beauty, that I have studied long, and
now found only, that I'll part sooner with my soul of Reason, and be a
Plant, a Beast, a Fish, a Flie, and only make the number of things up,
than yield to one foot of Land, if she be ti'd to't.

_Lew._ He speaks unhappily.

_Ang._ And methinks bravely. This the meer Scholar?

_Eust._ You but vex your self, Brother, and vex your study too.

_Char._ Go you and study, for 'tis time, young _Eustace_; you want both
man and manners; I've study'd both, although I made no shew on't. Go turn
the Volumes over I have read, eat and digest them, that they may grow in
thee; wear out the tedious night with thy dim Lamp, and sooner lose the
day, than leave a doubt. Distil the sweetness from the Poets Spring, and
learn to love; thou know'st not what fair is: Traverse the stories of the
great Heroes, the wise and civil lives of good men walk through; thou hast
seen nothing but the face of Countrys, and brought home nothing but their
empty words: why shouldst thou wear a Jewel of this worth, that hast no
worth within thee to preserve her?

_Beauty clear and fair,
Where the Air
Rather like a perfume dwells,
Where the Violet and the Rose
The blew Veins in blush disclose,
And come to honour nothing else.

Where to live near,
And planted there,
Is to live, and still live new;
Where to gain a favour is
More than light, perpetual bliss,
Make me live by serving you.