night.

_Char_. Let 'em in, Mistris.

_Serv_. They stay no leave; shall I raise the house on 'em?

_Char_. Not a man, nor make no murmur oft I charge ye.

_Enter_ Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.

_Eust_. They're here, my Uncle absent, stand close to me. How do you,
Brother, with your curious story? have you not read her yet sufficiently?

_Char_. No, Brother, no; I stay yet in the Preface: the style's too hard
for you.

_Eust_. I must entreat her; she's parcel of my goods.

_Char_. She's all when you have her.

_Ang_. Hold off your hands, unmannerly, rude Sir; nor I, nor what I have
depend on you.

_Char_. Do, let her alone, she gives good counsel; do not trouble your
self with Ladies, they are too light: Let out your Land, and get a
provident Steward.

_Ang_. I cannot love ye, let that satisfie you; such vanities as you, are
to be laugh'd at.

_Eust_. Nay, then you must go; I must claim mine own.

_Both_. Away, away with her.

_Char. Let her alone, pray let her alone, [_She strikes off_
and take your Coxcomb up: Let me talk [Eustace's _hat_.
civilly a while with you, Brother. It may be on some terms I may part with
her.

_Eust_. O, is your heart come down? what are your terms, Sir? Put up, put
up.

_Char_. This is the first and chiefest; [_Snatches away his sword_]
let's walk a turn. Now stand off, fools, I advise ye, stand as far off as
you would hope for mercy: this is the first sword yet I ever handled, and
a sword's a beauteous thing to look upon; and if it hold, I shall so hunt
your insolence: 'tis sharp, I'm sure, and if I put it home, 'tis ten to
one I shall new pink your Sattins; I find I have spirit enough to dispose
of it, and will enough to make ye all examples; let me toss it round, I
have the full command on't. Fetch me a native Fencer, I defie him; I feel
the fire of ten strong spirits in me. Do you watch me when my Uncle is
absent? this is my grief, I shall be flesh'd on Cowards; teach me to
fight, I willing am to learn. Are ye all gilded flies, nothing but shew in
ye? why stand ye gaping? who now touches her? who calls her his, or who
dares name her to me? but name her as his own; who dares look on her? that
shall be mortal too; but think, 'tis dangerous. Art thou a fit man to
inherit Land, and hast no wit nor spirit to maintain it? Stand still, thou
sign of a man, and pray for thy friends, pray heartily, good prayers may
restore ye.

_Ang_. But do not kill 'em, Sir.