FIDELIO.

It is with some Concern, my Lord, that I have observ'd so great an Alteration in you of late; your usual Gaiety, and Fire is vanish'd, and you seem buried in Thought, and Discontent. I have liv'd long in your Family—have serv'd your Father faithfully, and I hope have not given you Reason to complain since I had the Honour to attend you. Perhaps it may yet be in my Power to be of Service to you, at least in my Advice, Pray'rs, and Wishes. May I beg to know the Cause of your Melancholy?

VINCENTIO.

I was thinking, Fidelio, on the Injustice of those Laws, that deprive a Man of the Pleasures, nay, almost the Necessaries of Life, for no other Fault than being born a little too late. I must confess, I think we younger Brothers are but indifferently dealt by: Here's myself might pass with some for a tolerable well-made young Fellow, and I think myself as able to spend an Estate in a gentile Manner as ever an elder Brother in Germany: And yet, because an unnatural, ill-manner'd Clown happen'd to tumble into the World the same Way with myself, only about ten or twelve Months sooner; I, forsooth, must owe my Subsistence to his Bounty, and think myself oblig'd to him for an Education worse than is bestow'd on his meanest Vassal. Say, Fidelio, have I not Reason for my Melancholy?

FIDELIO.

Ah, Sir! had my old Lord liv'd, we shou'd have no Room for these Complaints.—You know he always lov'd you with a more than ordinary Fondness, and had we had fair Play—I have a strange Notion Things wou'd not have been as they are. However, Sir, by your Brother's own Confession, he has a thousand Crowns in Trust, which your Father bequeath'd you to equip you for the World like a Gentleman.

VINCENTIO.

Ah, Fidelio, a thousand Crowns will go but a little Way tow'rds making a Gentleman, as Gentility goes now-a-days.—'Tis said, indeed, he order'd my Brother on his Death-bed, to give me an Education suitable to my Birth. Marry, has he not? While ev'ry noble Youth is gaining Knowledge in his Closet, or Honour in the Field; I must be kept at Home to look after his Lordship's Hounds and Horses; nay, faith, sometimes

his Hogs. A polite Education, I must confess, and fit for the Son of the great Ernesto. In short, Fidelio, I begin to be tir'd of this Usage; the Spirit of my Father works strongly in me, and mutinies against this Servitude. —I can endure it no longer, but must find some Means to free myself from this Slavery.

FIDELIO.

Hush, Sir, here's my Lord, your Brother, coming into the Garden.

VINCENTIO.

'Tis as I wish'd: Step aside, good Fidelio, and thou shalt see a Specimen of his brotherly Affection.