pany without them; and by gadslid I scorn it, I, so I do, to be a consort for every humdrum: hang them, scroyles! there's nothing in them i' the world. What do you talk on it? Because I dwell at Hogsden, I shall keep company with none but the archers of Finsbury, or the citizens that come a ducking to Islington ponds! A fine jest, i' faith! 'Slid, a gentleman mun shew himself like a gentleman. Uncle, I pray you be not angry; I know what I have to do, I trow. I am no novice.

  Know.
     You are a prodigal, absurd coxcomb, go to!
     Nay, never look at me, 'tis I that speak;
     Take't as you will, sir, I'll not flatter you.
     Have you not yet found means enow to waste
     That which your friends have left you, but you must
     Go cast away your money on a buzzard,
     And know not how to keep it, when you have done?
     O, it is comely! this will make you a gentleman!
     Well, cousin, well, I see you are e'en past hope
     Of all reclaim:—-ay, so; now you are told on't,
     You look another way.

  Step. What would you ha' me do?

  Know.
     What would I have you do? I'll tell you, kinsman;
     Learn to be wise, and practise how to thrive;
     That would I have you do: and not to spend
     Your coin on every bauble that you fancy,
     Or every foolish brain that humours you.
     I would not have you to invade each place,
     Nor thrust yourself on all societies,
     Till men's affections, or your own desert,
     Should worthily invite you to your rank.
     He that is so respectless in his courses,
     Oft sells his reputation at cheap market.
     Nor would I, you should melt away yourself
     In flashing bravery, lest, while you affect
     To make a blaze of gentry to the world,
     A little puff of scorn extinguish it;
     And you be left like an unsavoury snuff,
     Whose property is only to offend.
     I'd have you sober, and contain yourself,
     Not tha