HUSBAND. Please you draw near, sir, y’are exceeding welcome. MASTER. Thats my doubt; I fear, I come not to be welcome. HUSBAND. Yes, howsoever. MASTER. Tis not my fashion, Sir, to dwell in long circumstance, but to be plain, and effectual; therefore, to the purpose. The cause of my setting forth was piteous and lamentable: that hopeful young gentleman, your brother, whose vertues we all love dearly, through your default and unnatural negligence, lies in bond executed for your debt, a prisoner, all his studies amazed, his hope struck dead, and the pride of his youth muffled in these dark clouds of oppression. HUSBAND. Hum, um, um. MASTER. Oh, you have kild the towardest hope of all our university: Wherefore, without repentance and ameds, expect pondrous and sudden Judgements to fall grievously upon you. Your brother, a man who profited in his divine Imployments, might have made ten thousand souls fit for heaven, now by your careless courses cast in prison, which you must answer for, and assure your spirit it will come home at length. HUSBAND. Oh god! oh! MASTER. Wise men think ill of you, others speak ill of you, no man loves you, nay, even those whom honesty condemns, condemn you: and take this from the vertuous affection I bear your brother; never look for prosperous hour, good thought, quiet sleeps, contented walks, nor any thing that makes man perfect til you redeem him. What is your answer? how will you bestow him? upon desperate misery, or better hopes? I suffer, till I have your answer. HUSBAND. Sir, you have much wrought with me. I feel you in my soul, you are your arts master. I never had sense til now; your syllables have cleft me. Both for your words and pains I thank you: I cannot but acknowledge grievous wrongs done to my brother, mighty, mighty, mighty wrongs.—Within there! [Enter a servingman.] HUSBAND. Sir, Fill me a bowl of wine. Alas, poor brother, Brus’d with an execution for my sake. [Exit servant for wine.] MASTER. A bruse indeed makes many a moral sore Till the grave cure em. [Enter with wine.] HUSBAND. Sir, I begin to you, y’ave chide your welcome. MASTER. I could have wisht it better for your sake. I pledge you, sir, to the kind man in prison. HUSBAND. Let it be so. Now, Sir, if you so please. [Drink both.] To spend but a few minutes in a walk About my grounds below, my man here shall Attend you. I doubt not but by that time to be furnisht Of a sufficient answer, and therein My brother fully satisfied. MASTER. Good sir, in that the Angells would be pleased, And the worlds murmurs calmd, and I should say I set forth then upon a lucky day. [Exit.]