e.

_Bri._ Then stay and dine; it may be we shall vex 'em. [_Exeunt._

_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Brisac, Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.

_Brisac._ Ne'er talk to me, you are no men but Masquers; shapes, shadows,
and the signs of men, Court bubbles, that every breath or breaks or blows
away. You have no souls, no metal in your bloods, no heat to stir ye when
ye have occasion: frozen dull things, that must be turn'd with Leavers.
Are you the Courtiers, and the travell'd Gallants? the spritely Fellows
that the people talk of? Ye have no more spirit than three sleepy sopes.

_Eust._ What would ye have me do, Sir?

_Bri._ Follow your Brother, and get ye out of doors, and seek your
Fortune. Stand still becalm'd, and let an aged Dotard, a hair-brain'd
Puppy, and a Bookish Boy, that never knew a Blade above a Pen-knife, and
how to cut his meat in Characters, cross my design, and take thine own
Wench from thee, in mine own house too? Thou despis'd poor fellow!

_Eust._ The reverence that I ever bare to you, Sir, then to my Uncle, with
whom 't had been but sawciness t' have been so rough--

_Egre._ And we not seeing him strive in his own cause, that was principal,
and should have led us on, thought it ill manners to begin a quarrel here.

_Bri._ You dare do nothing. Do you make your care the excuse of your
Cowardise? Three Boys on Hobby-horses, with three penny Halberds, would
beat you all.

_Cow._ You must not say so.

_Bri._ Yes, and sing it too.

_Cow._ You are a man of peace, therefore we must give way.

_Bri._ I'll make my way, and therefore quickly leave me, or I'll force
you; and having first torn off your flanting feathers, I'll trample on
'em; and if that cannot teach you to quit my house, I'll kick ye out of my
gates; you gawdy Glow-worms, carrying seeming fire, yet have no heat
within ye.

_Cow._ O blest travel! how much we owe thee for our power to suffer!

_Egre._ Some splenetive Youths now, that had never seen more than thy
Country smoak, will grow in choler; it would shew fine in us.

_Eust._ Yes marry would it, that are prime Courtiers, and must know no
angers, but give thanks for our injuries, if we purpose to hold our
places.

_Bri._ Will you find the door? and find it suddenly? you shall lead the
way, Sir, with your perfum'd retinue, and recover the now lost
_Angellina_, or build on it, I will adopt some beggar's doubtful issue,
before thou shalt inherit.

_Eust._ We'll