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?