Adam.

Yonder comes my master, your brother.

Orla.

Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up.

Oli.

Now, Sir, what make you here?

Orla.

Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli.

What mar you then, Sir?

Orla.

Marry Sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.

Oli.

Marry Sir, be better employ'd, and be naught a while.

Orla.

Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? what prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?

Oli.

Know you where you are, Sir?

Orla.

O Sir, very well; here in your orchard.

Oli.

Know you before whom, Sir?

Orla.

Ay, better than he I am before, knows me. I know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle condition of blood you should so know me: the courtesie of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. I have as much of my father in me, as you; albeit, I confess your coming before me is nearer to his reverence.

Oli.

What boy!

Orla.

Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.

Oli.

Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

Orla.

I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, 'till this other had pull'd out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast rail'd on thy self.

Adam.

Sweet masters be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

Oli.

Let me go, I say.

Orla.

I will not 'till I please: you shall hear me. My father charg'd you in his will to give me good education: you have train'd me up like a peasant, obscuring and hiding me from all gentleman-like qualities; the spirit of my father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.

Oli.

And what wilt thou do? beg when that is spent? well, Sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will. I pray you leave me.

Orla.

I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.

Oli.

Get you with him, you old dog.

Adam.

Is old dog my reward? most true, I have lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master, he would not have spoke such a word.