The Elder Brother

The text of the present volume was passed for press by Arnold Glover and some progress had been made in his lifetime in the collection of the material given in the Appendix. Mrs. Glover's help has again been most valuable in the completion of the work.

The Elder Brother is printed entirely in prose in the Second Folio, and I have therefore printed in the Appendix the play in verse, as it appeared in the First Quarto. The case is an interesting one, and readers will be glad, I think, to have both forms in the same volume.

I have not concerned myself with passages in the Second Folio in prose which have since been printed as verse. On the whole I agree with a recent critic who characterises as 'vexatious' the 'later practice of printing much manifest prose as verse, each post-seventeenth century editor apparently making it a point of honour to discover metre where no one had found it before, and where no one with an ear can find it now.'

I am glad to have had the opportunity of seeing the 1625 manuscript of Demetrius and Enanthe, the play first printed in a somewhat mutilated form in the First Folio of 1647, where it is called The Humorous Lieutenant. It is stated in the Dictionary of National Biography (Vol. XIX, p. 306) that this MS. is preserved in the Dyce Library but the statement is incorrect. The MS. has never been a part of the Dyce collection. It was printed by Dyce in 1830 and after that date it rested for many years in obscurity. To Mrs. Glover is due the credit for having traced it to its present home. For help in this search our thanks are due to Lord Stanley of Alderley, to W.R.M. Wynne, Esq., of Peniarth, Towyn, Merioneth (whose father owned the MS. and left a note in his copy of Dyce's reprint that he had given the MS. to his "old friend the late W. Ormsby Gore, Esq., M.P. for North Shropshire") and to Lord Harlech, the grandson of Mr. Ormsby Gore. Lord Harlech re-discovered the MS. in his library at Brogyntyn, Oswestry, and he has very kindly permitted a thorough examination of it. Dyce's 1830 publication is described as a reprint "verbatim et literatim," but it has little claim to be so called. The punctuation is altered throughout, the spelling is altered in scores of words and though the actual verbal differences between the original MS. and Dyce's reprint of it are not very many, yet these occur here and there throughout the play. Later editors, therefore, relying upon Dyce, have been led into recording as 'MS.' readings variations which do not occur in the MS. A brief description of the MS. will be found in the Appendix, pp. 509-18, together with the passages omitted from the Folios and a complete record of the verbal variations. The present collation omits readings incorrectly given by Dyce.

The third volume of this text will be ready immediately and good progress is being made with the remaining volumes. When the publication of the entire text is completed it is intended to print, by way of a commentary thereon, a companion volume containing a series of explanatory notes upon the text, a glossary and whatsoever supplementary material may be deemed to be of use to the student or to the general reader.

THE ELDER BROTHER, A COMEDY

Persons Represented in the Play.

Lewis, a Lord.

Miramont, a Gentleman.

Brisac, a Justice, Brother to Miramont.

Charles, a Scholar, \ Sons to

Eustace, a Courtier, / Brisac.

Egremont, \ two Courtiers, friends to

Cowsy, / Eustace.

Andrew, Servant to Charles.

Cook, \ Servants to

Butler, / Brisac.

Priest.

Notary.

Servants.

Officers.

Angellina, Daughter to Lewis.

Sylvia, her Woman.

Lilly, Wife to Andrew.

Ladies.

LECTORI

Wouldst thou all Wit, all Comick Art survey? Read here and wonder; Fletcher writ the Play.

Enter Lewis, Angellina, and Sylvia.

Lewis. Nay, I must walk you farther.

Ang. I am tir'd, Sir, and ne'er shall foot it home.

Lew. 'Tis for your health; the want of exercise takes from your Beauties, and sloth dries up your sweetness: That you are my only Daughter and my Heir, is granted; and you in thankfulness must needs acknowledge, you ever find me an indulgent Father, and open handed.

Ang. Nor can you tax me, Sir, I hope, for want of duty to deserve these favours from you.

Lew. No, my Angellina, I love and cherish thy obedience to me, which my care to advance thee shall confirm: all that I aim at, is, to win thee from the practice of an idle foolish state, us'd by great Women, who think any labour (though in the service of themselves) a blemish to their fair fortunes.

Ang. Make me understand, Sir, what 'tis you point at.

Lew. At the custom, how Virgins of wealthy Families waste their youth; after a long sleep, when you wake, your Woman presents your Breakfast, then you sleep again, then rise, and being trimm'd up by other hands, y'are led to Dinner, and that ended, either to Cards or to your Couch, (as if you were born without motion) after this to Supper, and then to Bed: and so your life runs round without variety or action, Daughter.

Syl. Here's a learned Lecture!

Lew. Fro[m] this idleness, Diseases, both in body and in mind, grow strong upon you; where a stirring nature, with wholesome exercise, guards both from danger: I'd have thee rise with the Sun, walk, dance, or hunt, visit the Groves and Springs, and learn the vertue of Plants and Simples: Do this moderately, and thou shalt not, with eating Chalk, or Coles, Leather and Oatmeal, and such other trash, fall into the Green-sickness.

Syl. With your pardon (were you but pleas'd to minister it) I could prescribe a Remedy for my Lady's health, and her delight too, far transcending those your Lordship but now mention'd.

Lew. What is it, Sylvia?

Syl. What is't! a noble Husband; in that word, a noble Husband, all content of Woman is wholly comprehended; He will rouse her, as you say, with the Sun; and so pipe to her, as she will dance, ne'er doubt it; and hunt with her, upon occasion, until both be weary; and then the knowledge of your Plants and Simples, as I take it, were superfluous. A loving, and, but add to it, a gamesome Bedfellow, being the sure Physician.

Lew. Well said, Wench.

Ang. And who gave you Commission to deliver your Verdict, Minion?

Syl. I deserve a Fee, and not a frown, dear Madam: I but speak her thoughts, my Lord, and what her modesty refuses to give voice to. Shew no mercy to a Maidenhead of fourteen, but off with't: let her lose no time, Sir; Fathers that deny their Daughters lawful pleasures, when ripe for them, in some kinds edge their appetites to taste of the fruit that is forbidden.

Lew. 'Tis well urg'd, and I approve it: No more blushing, Girl, thy Woman hath spoke truth, and so prevented what I meant to move to thee. There dwells near us a Gentleman of bloud, Monsieur Brisac, of a fair Estate, six thousand Crowns per annum, the happy Father of two hopeful Sons, of different breeding; the Elder, a meer Scholar; the younger, a quaint Courtier.

Ang. Sir, I know them by publick fame, though yet I never saw them; and that oppos'd antipathy between their various dispositions, renders them the general discourse and argument; one part inclining to the Scholar Charles, the other side preferring Eustace, as a man compleat in Courtship.

Lew. And which way (if of these two you were to chuse a Husband) doth your affection sway you?

Ang. To be plain Sir, (since you will teach me boldness) as they are simply themselves, to neither: let a Courtier be never so exact, let him be bless'd with all parts that yield him to a Virgin gracious; if he depend on others, and stand not on his own bottoms, though he have the means to bring his Mistris to a Masque, or by conveyance from some great ones lips, to taste such favour from the King: or grant he purchase precedency in the Court, to be sworn a servant Extraordinary to the Queen; nay, though he live in expectation of some huge preferment in reversion; if he want a present fortune, at the best those are but glorious dreams, and only yield him a happiness in posse, not in esse; nor can they fetch him Silks from the Mercer, nor discharge a Tailors Bill, nor in full plenty (which still preserves a quiet Bed at home) maintain a Family.

Lew. Aptly consider'd, and to my wish: But what's thy censure of the Scholar?

Ang. Troth (if he be nothing else) as of the Courtier, all his Songs and Sonnets, his Anagrams, Acrosticks, Epigrams, his deep and Philosophical Discourse of Nature's hidden Secrets, makes not up a perfect Husband; he can hardly borrow the Stars of the Celestial Crown to make me a Tire for my Head, nor Charles's Wain for a Coach, nor Ganymede for a Page, nor a rich Gown from Juno's Wardrobe, nor would I lie in (for I despair not once to be a Mother) under Heaven's spangled Canopy, or Banquet my Guests and Gossips with imagin'd Nectar; pure Orleans would do better: No, no, Father, though I could be well pleas'd to have my Husband a Courtier, and a Scholar, young, and valiant; these are but gawdy nothings, if there be not something to make a substance.

Lew. And what is that?

Ang. A full Estate, and that said, I've said all; and get me such a one with these Additions, farwel Virginity, and welcome Wedlock.

Lew. But where is such a one to be met with, Daughter? A black Swan is more common; you may wear grey Tresses e're we find him.

Ang. I am not so punctual in all Ceremonies, I will 'bate two or three of these good parts, before I'le dwell too long upon the choice.

Syl. Only, my Lord, remember, that he be rich and active, for without these, the others yield no relish, but these perfect. You must bear with small faults, Madam.

Lew. Merry Wench, and it becomes you well; I'le to Brisac, and try what may be done; i'th' mean time home, and feast thy thoughts with th'pleasures of a Bride.

Syl. Thoughts are but airy food, Sir, let her taste them.

ACTUS I. SCENA II

Enter Andrew, Cook, and Butler.

And. Unload part of the Library, and make room for th'other dozen of Carts; I'le straight be with you.

Cook. Why, hath he more Books?

And. More than ten Marts send over.

But. And can he tell their names?

And. Their names! he has 'em as perfect as his Pater Noster; but that's nothing, h'as read them over leaf by leaf three thousand times; but here's the wonder, though their weight would sink a Spanish Carrock, without other Ballast, he carrieth them all in his head, and yet he walks upright.

But. Surely he has a strong brain.

And. If all thy pipes of Wine were fill'd with Books, made of the Barks of Trees, or Mysteries writ in old moth-eaten Vellam, he would sip thy Cellar quite dry, and still be thirsty: Then for's Diet, he eats and digests more Volumes at a meal, than there would be Larks (though the Sky should fall) devoured in a month in Paris. Yet fear not Sons o'the Buttery and Kitchin, though his learn'd stomach cannot be appeas'd; he'll seldom trouble you, his knowing stomach contemns your Black-jacks, Butler, and your Flagons; and Cook, thy Boil'd, thy Rost, thy Bak'd.

Cook. How liveth he?

And. Not as other men do, few Princes fare like him; he breaks his fast with Aristotle, dines with Tully, takes his watering with the Muses, sups with Livy, then walks a turn or two in Via Lactea, and (after six hours conference with the Stars) sleeps with old Erra Pater.

But. This is admirable.

And. I'le tell you more hereafter. Here's my old Master, and another old ignorant Elder; I'le upon 'em.

Enter Brisac, Lewis.

Bri. What, Andrew? welcome; where's my Charles? speak, Andrew, where did'st thou leave thy Master?

And. Contemplating the number of the Sands in the Highway, and from that, purposes to make a Judgment of the remainder in the Sea: he is, Sir, in serious study, and will lose no minute, nor out of's pace to knowledge.

Lew. This is strange.

And. Yet he hath sent his duty, Sir, before him in this fair Manuscript.

Bri. What have we here? Pot-hooks and Andirons!

And. I much pity you, it is the Syrian Character, or the Arabick. Would you have it said, so great and deep a Scholar as Mr Charles is, should ask blessing in any Christian Language? Were it Greek I could interpret for you, but indeed I'm gone no farther.

Bri. And in Greek you can lie with your smug Wife Lilly.

And. If I keep her from your French Dialect, as I hope I shall, Sir; however she is your Landress, she shall put you to the charge of no more Soap than usual for th'washing of your Sheets.

Bri. Take in the Knave, and let him eat.

And. And drink too, Sir.

Bri. And drink too Sir, and see your Masters Chamber ready for him.

But. Come, Dr Andrew, without Disputation thou shalt Commence i'the Cellar.

And. I had rather Commence on a cold Bak'd meat.

Cook. Thou shalt ha't, Boy.

Bri. Good Monsieur Lewis, I esteem my self much honour'd in your clear intent, to joyn our ancient Families, and make them one; and 'twill take from my age and cares, to live and see what you have purpos'd but in act, of which your visit at this present is a hopeful Omen; I each minute expecting the arrival of my Sons; I have not wrong'd their Birth for want of Means and Education, to shape them to that course each was addicted; and therefore that we may proceed discreetly, since what's concluded rashly seldom prospers, you first shall take a strict perusal of them, and then from your allowance, your fair Daughter m[a]y fashion her affection.

Lew. Monsieur Brisac, you offer fair and nobly, and I'le meet you in the same line of Honour; and I hope, being blest but with one Daughter, I shall not appear impertinently curious, though with my utmost vigilance and study, I labour to bestow her to her worth: Let others speak her form, and future Fortune from me descending to her; I in that sit down with silence.

Bri. You may, my Lord, securely, since Fame aloud proclaimeth her perfections, commanding all mens tongues to sing her praises; should I say more, you well might censure me (what yet I never was) a Flatterer. What trampling's that without of Horses?

Enter Butler.

But. Sir, my young Masters are newly alighted.

Bri. Sir, now observe their several dispositions.

Enter Charles.

Char. Bid my Supsiser carry my Hackney to the Butt'ry, and give him his Bever; it is a civil and sober Beast, and will drink moderately; and that done, turn him into the Quadrangle.

Bri. He cannot out of his University tone.

Enter Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy.

Eust. Lackey, take care our Coursers be well rubb'd, and cloath'd; they have out-stripp'd the Wind in speed.

Lew. I marry, Sir, there's metal in this young Fellow! What a Sheep's look his elder Brother has!

Char. Your blessing, Sir.

Bri. Rise, Charles, thou hast it.

Eust. Sir, though it be unusual in the Court, (since 'tis the Courtiers garb) I bend my knee, and do expert what follows.

Bri. Courtly begg'd. My blessing, take it.

Eust. (to Lew.) Your Lordship's vow'd adorer. What a thing this Brother is! yet I'le vouchsafe him the new Italian shrug— How clownishly the Book-worm does return it!

Char. I'm glad ye are well. [Reads.

Eust. Pray you be happy in the knowledge of this pair of accomplish'd Monsieurs; they are Gallants that have seen both Tropicks.

Bri. I embrace their love.

Egr. Which we'll repay with servulating.

Cow. And will report your bounty in the Court.

Bri. I pray you make deserving use on't first. Eustace, give entertainment to your Friends; what's in my house is theirs.

Eust. Which we'll make use of; let's warm our brains with half a dozen Healths, and then hang cold discourse, for we'll speak Fire-works. [Ex.

Lew. What, at his Book already?

Bri. Fie, fie, Charles, no hour of interruption?

Char. Plato differs from Socrates in this.

Bri. Come, lay them by; let them agree at leisure.

Char. Man's life, Sir, being so short, and then the way that leads unto the knowledge of our selves, so long and tedious, each minute should be precious.

Bri. In our care to manage worldly business, you must part with this Bookish contemplation, and prepare your self for action; to thrive in this Age is held the blame of Learning: You must study to know what part of my Land's good for the Plough, and what for Pasture; how to buy and sell to the best advantage; how to cure my Oxen when they're o'er-grown with labour.

Char. I may do this from what I've read, Sir; for, what concerns Tillage, who better can deliver it than Virgil in his Georgicks? and to cure your Herds, his Bucolicks is a Masterpiece; but when he does describe the Commonwealth of Bees, their industry, and knowledge of the herbs from which they gather Honey, with their care to place it with decorum in the Hive; their Government among themselves, their order in going forth, and coming loaden home; their obedience to their King, and his rewards to such as labour, with his punishments only inflicted on the slothful Drone; I'm ravish'd with it, and there reap my Harvest, and there receive the gain my Cattle bring me, and there find Wax and Honey.

Bri. And grow rich in your imagination; heyday, heyday! Georgicks, Bucolicks, and Bees! art mad?

Char. No, Sir, the knowledge of these guards me from it.

Bri. But can you find among your bundle of Books (and put in all your Dictionaries that speak all Tongues) what pleasure they enjoy, that do embrace a well-shap'd wealthy Bride? Answer me that.

Char. 'Tis frequent, Sir, in Story, there I read of all kind of virtuous and vitious women; the antient Spartan Dames, and Roman Ladies, their Beauties and Deformities; and when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, crown'd with still flourishing leaves of truth and goodness; with such a feeling I peruse their Fortunes, as if I then had liv'd, and freely tasted their ravishing sweetness; at the present loving the whole Sex for their goodness and example. But on the contrary, when I look on a Clytemnestra, or a Tullia; the first bath'd in her Husband[s] bloud; the latter, without a touch of piety, driving on her Chariot o'er her Father's breathless Trunk, horrour invades my faculties; and comparing the multitudes o'th' guilty, with the few that did die Innocents, I detest and loath 'em as Ignorance or Atheism.

Bri. You resolve then ne'er to make payment of the debt you owe me.

Char. What debt, good Sir?

Bri. A debt I paid my Father when I begat thee, and made him a Grandsire, which I expect. from you.

Char. The Children, Sir, which I will leave to all posterity, begot and brought up by my painful Studies, shall be my living Issue.

Bri. Very well; and I shall have a general Collection of all the quiddits from Adam to this time, to be my Grandchild.

Char. And such a one, I hope, Sir, as shall not shame the Family.

Bri. Nor will you take care of my Estate?

Char. But in my wishes; for know, Sir, that the wings on which my Soul is mounted, have long since born her too high, to stoop to any Prey that soars not upwards. Sordid and dunghill minds, compos'd of earth, in that gross Element fix all their happiness; but purer Spirits, purged and refin'd, shake off that clog of humane frailty; give me leave t'enjoy my self; that place that does contain my Books (the best Compa[n]ions) is to me a glorious Court, where hourly I converse with the old Sages and Philosophers, and sometimes for variety, I confer with Kings and Emperors, and weigh their Counsels, calling their Victories (if unjustly got) unto a strict accompt, and in my phancy, deface their ill-plac'd Statues; can I then part with such constant pleasures, to embrace uncertain vanities? No, be it your care t'augment your heap of wealth; it shall be mine t'increase in knowledge—Lights there for my Study— [Exit.

Bri. Was ever man that had reason thus transported from all sense and feeling of his proper good? It vexes me, and if I found not comfort in my young Eustace, I might well conclude my name were at a period!

Lew. He is indeed, Sir, the surer base to build on.

Enter Eustace, Egremont, Cowsy, and Andrew.

Bri. Eustace.

Eust. Sir.

Bri. Your ear in private.

And. I suspect my Master has found harsh welcome, he's gone supperless into his Study; could I find out the cause, it may be borrowing of his Books, or so, I shall be satisfied.

Eust. My duty shall, Sir, take any form you please; and in your motion to have me married, you cut off all dangers the violent heats of youth might bear me to.

Lew. It is well answer'd.

Eust. Nor shall you, my Lord, for your fair Daughter ever find just cause to mourn your choice of me; the name of Husband, nor the authority it carries in it, shall ever teach me to forget to be, as I am now, her Servant, and your Lordship's; and but that modesty forbids, that I should sound the Trumpet of my own deserts, I could say, my choice manners have been such, as render me lov'd and remarkable to the Princes of the Blood,

Cow. Nay, to the King.

Egre. Nay to the King and Council.

And. These are Court-admirers, and ever echo him that bears the Bag. Though I be dull-ey'd, I see through this jugling.

Eust. Then for my hopes.

Cow. Nay certainties.

Eust. They stand as fair as any mans. What can there fall in compass of her wishes, which she shall not be suddenly possess'd of? Loves she Titles? by the grace and favour of my Princely Friends, I am what she would have me.

Bri. He speaks well, and I believe him.

Lew. I could wish I did so. Pray you a word, Sir. He's a proper Gentleman, and promises nothing, but what is possible. So far I will go with you; nay, I add, he hath won much upon me; and were he but one thing that his Brother is, the bargain were soon struck up.

Bri. What's that, my Lord?

Lew. The Heir.

And. Which he is not, and I trust never shall be.

Bri. Come, that shall breed no difference; you see Charles has given o'er the world; I'le undertake, and with much ease, to buy his Birth-right of him for a Dry-fat of new Books; nor shall my state alone make way for him, but my elder Brothers, who being issueless, to advance our name, I doubt not will add his. Your resolution?

Lew. I'le first acquaint my Daughter with the proceedings; on these terms I am yours, as she shall be, make you no scruple. Get the Writings ready, she shall be tractable; to morrow we will hold a second conference. Farewell noble Eustace; and you brave Gallants.