Ant. Mettle to the back, sir.

Cha. Well how far either of them may go with my daughter, I can't tell; she'll be easily pleased where I am -I have given her some documents already.

Hark! what noise without?

Ant. Odso! 'tis theythey're come- ·I have expected them these two hours. Well, sirrah, who's without?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. 'Tis Sancho, sir, with a waggon-load of my master's books.

Cha. What, does he always travel with his whole study?

Ant. Never without them, sir; 'tis his humour.

Enter SANCHO, laden with books.

San. Pedro, unload part of the library; bid the porter open the great gates, and make room for t'other dozen of carts; I'll be with you presently.

Ant. Ha! Sancho! where's my Carlos? Speak, boy, where didst thou leave thy master ?

San. Jogging on, sir, in the highway to knowledge, both hands employed, in his book, and his bridle, sir; but he has sent his duty before him in this letter, sir.

Ant. What have we here, pothooks and andirons ? San. Pothooks! Oh, dear sir!- -I beg your par~ don—No, Sir, this is Arabick; 'tis to the Lord Abbot, concerning the translation, sir, of human bodies -a new way of getting out of the world.

B

-There's a terrible wise man * has written a very smart book of it.

Cha. Pray, friend, what will that same book teach

a man?

San. Teach you, sir! why, to play a trump upon death, and shew yourself a match for the devil.*

Cha. Strange!

San. Here, sir, this is your letter.

[To Ant.

Cha. Pray, sir, what sort of life may your master lead?

San. Life, sir! no prince fares like him; he breaks his fast with Aristotle, dines with Tully, drinks tea at Helicon, sups with Seneca, then walks a turn or two in the milky way, and after six hours conference with the stars, sleeps with old Erra Pater.

Cha. Wonderful!

Ant. So, Carlos will be here presently-Here, take the knave in, and let him eat.

San. And drink too, sir?

Ant. And drink too, sir-and pray see your mas ter's chamber ready. [Knocking again.] Well, sir, who's at the gate ?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Monsieur, sir, from my young master, Clodio.

Enter MONSIEUR.

Ant. Well, Monsieur, what says your master? When will he be here?

* Mr. Asgill.

Mons. Sire he vill be here in de less time dan von quarter of de hour? he is not quite tirty mile off.

Ant. And what came you before for?

Mons. Sire me come to provide de pulville, and de essence for his peruque, dat he may approche to your vorshipe vid de reverence, and de belle air.

Ant. What, is he unprovided then?

Mons. Sire, he vas enrage, and did break his bottel d'orangerie, because it vas not de same dat is prepare for Monseigneur le Dauphin.

Ant. Well, sir, if you'll go to the butler, he'll help you to some oil for his perriwig.

Mons. Sire, me tank you.

[Exit Monsieur. Cha. A very notable spark, this Clodio. Ha! what noise is that without }

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, my young masters are both come. Ant. That's well! Now, sir, now! now observe their several dispositions.

Enter CARLOS.

Car. My father! Sir, your blessing.

Ant. Thou hast it, Carlos; and now, pray know this gentleman, Charino, sir, my old friend, and one in whom you may have a particular interest.

all.

Car. I'll study to deserve his love, sir.

Cha. Sir, as for that matter, you need not study at [They salute. Clo. [Within.] Hey! La Valiere! bid the groom

take care our hunters be well rubbed and clothed; they're hot, and have out-stripped the wind. Cha. Ay, marry, sir, there's mettle in this young fellow.

Enter CLODIO.

Clo. Where's my father?

Ant. Ha, my dear Clody, thou'rt welcome! "let me kiss thee.

Clo. "Sir, you kiss pleasingly-I love to kiss a man; in Paris we kiss nothing else." Sir, being my father's friend, I am your most obliged, faithful, humble servant.

Cha. Sir-I-I-I like you.

Clo. Thy hand-kiss-I'm your friend.

[To Cha. [Eagerly.

Cha. Faith thou art a pretty-humoured fellow.
Clo. Who's that? Pray, sir, who's that?
Ant. Your brother, Clody.

Clo. Odso! I beg his pardon with all my heart

Ha, ha, ha! did ever mortal see such a book-worm ?

-Brother, how is't!

Car. I'm glad you are well brother.

[Carelessly. [Reads.

Clo. What, does he draw his book upon me? Then I will draw my wit upon him—Gad, I'll puzzle him-Hark you, brother; pray, what's- -Latin for a sword-knot?

Car. The Romans wore none, brother.

Clo. No ornament upon their swords, sir?

Car. Oh, yes, several, conquest, peace, and ho. nour-an old unfashionable wear.

Clo. Sir, no man in France (I may as well say breathing; for not to live there, is not to breathe) wears a more fashionable sword than I do; he cost me fifteen louis d'ors in Paris- -There, sir,feel him-try him, sir.

Car. I have no skill, sir.

Clo. No skill, sir! why, this sword would make a coward fight—aha! sa, sa! ha! rip-ha! there I had him. [Fencing. Car. Take heed, you'll cut my clothes, brother. Clo. Cut 'm! ha, halno, no, they are cut already, brother, to the grammar rules exactly: psha! pr'ythee, man, leave off this college-air.

Car. No, brother, I think it wholesome, the soil and situation pleasant.

Clo. A put, by Jupiter! he don't know the air of a gentleman, from the air of the country-Sir, I mean the air of your cloaths; I would have you change your taylor, and dress a little more en cavalier : lay by your book, and take out your snuff-box; cock, and look smart, ha!

Cha. Faith, a pretty fellow.

Car. I read no use in this, brother; and for my clothes, the half of what I wear already seems to me superfluous: what need I outward ornaments, when I can deck myself with understanding? Why should we care for any thing, but knowledge? Or look upon the follies of mankind, but to condemn or pity those that seek 'em? [Reads again.

Clo. Stark mad, split me!