_Pol._ Speak on, Sir. [_Walks with him._ _Mem._ It is no Story for all ears. _Pol._ The Princess? [_Whispers._ _Mem._ Peace and hear all. _Pol._ How? _Eum._ Sure 'tis dangerous He starts so at it. _Pol._ Your heart? do you know, Sir? _Mem._ Yes, Pray thee be softer. _Pol._ Me to do it? _Mem._ Only reserv'd, and dedicated. _Pol._ For shame, Brother, Know what ye are, a man. _Mem._ None of your _Athens_, Good sweet Sir, no Philosophy, thou feel'st not The honourable end, fool. _Pol._ I am sure I feel The shame and scorn that follows; have ye serv'd thus long The glory of your Country, in your Conquests? The envy of your Neighbours, in your Vertues? Rul'd Armies of your own, given Laws to Nations, Belov'd and fear'd as far as Fame has travell'd, Call'd the most fortunate and happy _Memnon_, To lose all here at home, poorly to lose it? Poorly, and pettishly, ridiculously To fling away your fortune? where's your Wisedom? Where's that you govern'd others by, discretion? Do's your Rule lastly hold upon your self? fie Brother, How ye are faln? Get up into your honour, The top branch of your bravery, and from thence, Look and behold how little _Memnon_ seems now. _Mem._ Hum! 'tis well spoken; but dost thou think young Scholar, The tongues of Angels from my happiness Could turn the end I aim at? no, they cannot. This is no Book-case, Brother; will ye do it? Use no more art, I am resolv'd. _P[o]l._ Ye may Sir Command me to do any thing that's honest, And for your noble end: but this, it carries-- _Mem._ Ye shall not be so honour'd; live an Ass still, And learn to spell for profit: go, go study. _Eum._ Ye must not hold him up so, he is lost then. _Mem._ Get thee to School again, and talk of turnips, And find the natural Cause out, why a Dog Turns thrice about e're he lyes down: there's Learning. _Pol._ Come, I will do it now; 'tis brave, I find it, And now allow the reason. _Mem._ O do you so, Sir? Do ye find it currant? _Pol._ Yes, yes, excellent. _Mem._ I told ye. _Pol._ I was foolish: I have here too The rarest way to find the truth out; hark ye? Ye shall be rul'd by me. _Mem._ It will be: but-- _Pol._ I reach it, If the worst fall, have at the worst; we'll both go. But two days, and 'tis thus; ha? _Mem._ 'Twill do well so. _Pol._ Then is't not excellent, do ye conceive it? _Mem._ 'Twill work for certain. _Pol._ O 'twill tickle her, And you shall know then by a line. _Mem._ I like it, But let me not be fool'd again. _Pol._ Doubt nothing, You do me wrong then, get ye in there private As I have taught ye; _Basta_. _Mem._ Work. [_Exit_ Memnon. _Pol._ I will do. _Eum._ Have ye found the cause?