him; if a Physician,
So oft I would restore death-wounded men,
That where I liv'd, _Galen_ should not be nam'd,
And he that joyn'd again the scatter'd limbs
Of torn _Hippolytus_ should be forgotten.
I could teach _Ovid_ courtship, how to win
A _Julia_, and enjoy her, though her Dower
Were all the Sun gives light to: and for arms
Were the _Persian_ host that drank up Rivers, added
To the _Turks_ present powers, I could direct,
Command, and Marshal them.

_Man_. And yet you know not
To rule your self, you would not to a boy else
Like _Plautus_ Braggart boast thus.

_Dua_. All I speak,
In act I can make good.

_Gui_. Why then being Master
Of such and so good parts do you destroy them,
With self opinion, or like a rich miser,
Hoard up the treasures you possess, imparting
Nor to your self nor others, the use of them?
They are to you but like inchanted viands,
On which you seem to feed, yet pine with hunger;
And those so rare perfections in my Son
Which would make others happy, render me
A wretched Mother.

_Man_. You are too insolent.
And those too many excellencies, that feed
Your pride, turn to a Pleurisie, and kill
That which should nourish vertue; dare you think
All blessings are confer'd on you alone?
Y'are grosly cousen'd; there's no good in you,
Which others have not: are you a Scholar? so
Are many, and as knowing: are you valiant?
Waste not that courage then in braules, but spend it
In the Wars, in service of your King and Country.

_Dua_. Yes, so I might be General, no man lives
That's worthy to command me.

_Man_. Sir, in _Lisbon_
I am: and you shall know it; every hour
I am troubled with complaints of your behaviour
From men of all conditions, and all sexes.
And my authority, which you presume
Will bear you out, in that you are my Nephew,
No longer shall protect you, for I vow
Though all that's past I pardon, I will punish
The next fault with as much severity
As if you were a stranger, rest assur'd on't.

_Gui_. And by that love you should bear, or that duty
You owe a Mother, once more I command you
To cast this haughtiness off; which if you do,
All that is mine, is yours, if not, expect
My prayers, and vows, for your conversion only,
But never means nor favour. [_Ex_. Manuel _and_ Guiomar.

_Dua_. I am Tutor'd
As if I were a child still, the base Peasants
That fear, and envy my great worth, have done this;
But I will find them out, I will o'boord
Get my disguise; I have too long