The town-fopp, or, Sir Timothy Tawdrey a comedy : as it is acted at His Royal Highness the Duke's theatre / written by Mrs. A. Behn.

ACT. II.

Scene 1. A Palace.

Enter Nurse with a Light.

Nur.

WEll, 'tis an endless trouble, to have the Tuition of a Maid in Love, here is such Wishing and Longing—And yet one must force them to what they most desire, before they will admit of it— Here am I sent out a Scout of the Forlorn Hope, to discover the approach of the Enemy—Well—Mr. Bellmour, you are not to know, 'tis with the consent of Celinda, that you come—I must bear all the blame, what mischief soever comes of these Night-works.

Enter Bellmour.

Oh are you come—Your hour was Twelve, and ••ow 'tis almost Two.

Bell.

I could not get from Friendlove—Thou hast not told Celinda of my coming.

Nur.

No, no, ee'n make peace for me, and your self too.

Bell.

I warrant thee Nurse—Oh how I hope and fear this nights suc∣cess!

[Exeunt.

Scene a Chamber, Celinda in her Night A••tire, leaning on a Table.

Enter to her Bellmour and Nurse.

Cel.

Oh Heavens! Mr. Bellmour at this late hour in my Cham∣ber!

Bell.

Yes, Madam; but will approach no nearer till you permit me; And sure you know my Soul too well to fear.

Cel.

I do Sir, and you may approach yet nearer, And let me know your business.

Bell.

Love is my bus'ness, that of all the world Only my flame as much surmounts the rest As is the Objects beauty, I adore.

Cel.

If this be all, to tell me of your Love, To morrow might have done as well.

Bell.

Oh no, to morrow would have been too late, Too late to make returns to all my pain. —What disagreeing thing offends your Eyes? I've no deformity about my Person, I'm Young, and have a Fortune great as any That do pretend to serve you; And yet I find my interest in your heart, Below those happy ones that are my Rivals. Nay, every Fool that can but plead his Title, And the poor interest that a Parent gives him, Can merit more than I. —What else my lovely Maid can give a freedom To that same talking, idle Knighted Fopp.

Cel.

Oh if I am so wretched to be his, Surely I cannot live, For, Sir, I must confess I cannot love him.

Bell.

But thou may'st do as bad, and marry him, And that's a sin, I cannot over live —No, hear my Vows—

Cel.

But are you ••ir in earnest?

Bell.

In earnest? Yes, by all that's good I am; I Love you more than I do Life, or Heav'n••

Cel.

Oh what a pleasure 'tis to hear him say so!

[Aside.

—But pray, how long Sir, have you Lov'd me so?

Bell.

From the first moment that I saw your Eyes,

Your charming killing Eyes, I did adore 'em, And ever since have languisht day and night.

Nur.

Come, come, ne're stand asking of questions, But follow your inclinations, and take him at his word.

Bell.

Celinda, take her counsel, Perhaps this is the last opportunity; Nay, and by Heaven the last of all my Life, If you refuse me now— Say, will you never marry Man but me?

Cel.

Pray give me till to morrow, Sir, to answer you; For I have yet some fears about my Soul That take away my rest.

Bell.

To morrow! You must then marry—oh fatal word! Another! a Beast, a Fool, tha•• knows not how to value you.

Cel.

Is't possible my Fate shou'd be so near?

Nur.

Nay then dispose of your self, I say, and leave dissembling, 'tis high time.

Bell.

This night the Letter came, the dreadful News Of thy being married, and to morrow too. Oh answer me, or I shall die with fear.

Cel.

I must confess it, Sir, without a blush, (For 'tis no sin to Love) that I cou'd wish— Heaven and my Father, were inclin'd my way. But I am all obedience to their wills.

Bell.

That Sigh was kind, But ere to morrow this time, You'll want this pitying sense, and fee•• no pantings, But those which joyes and pleasures do create.

Cel.

Alas Sir! what is't you'd have me do?

Bell.

Why—I wou'd have you Love, and after that You need not be instructed what to do. Give me your Faith▪ give me your Solemn Vow To be my Wife, and I shall be at peace.

Cel.

Have you consider'd, Sir, your own condition, 'Tis in your Uncles power to take your Fortune, If in your choice you disobey his will. —And Sir, you know that mine is much below you.

Bell.

Oh I shall calm his Rage, By urging so much Reason as thy Beauty, And my own flame, on which my Life depends. —He now has kindly sent for me to London, I fear his bus'ness— Yet if you'll yield to marry me, We'll keep it secret, till our kinder Stars Have made provision for the blest discovery▪

Come give me your Vows, or we must part for ever.

Cel.

Part! oh 'tis a fatal word! I will do any thing to save that Life, To which my own so nearly is alli'd.

Enter Friendllove.

Fri••nd.

So forward Sister!

Bell.

Ha! Friendlove!

Friend.

Was it so kindly done to gain my Sister Without my knowledge?

Bell.

Ah Friend! 'Twas from her self alone That I wou'd take the blessing which I ask.

Friend.

And I••ll assist her, Sir, to give it you. Here take him as an Honour, and be thankful.

Bell.

I as a blessing sent from Heaven receive her, And e're I sleep will justifie my Claim, And make her mine.

Friend▪

Be not so hasty Friend: Endeavor first to reconcile your Uncle to't.

Bell.

By such delayes we're lost: Hast thou forgot? To morrow she's design'd anothers Bride!

Friend.

For that let me alone t' evade.

Bell.

If you must yet delay me, Give me leave not to interest such wealth without security. And I Celinda will instruct you how to satisfie my fears.

[Kneels, and takes her by the hand.

Bears witness to my Vows— May every Plague that Heaven inflicts on Sin, Fall down in thunder on my head, If e're I marry any but Celinda, Or if I do not marry thee fair Maid.

Nur.

Heartily sworn as I vow.

Cel.

And here I wish as solemnly the same. —May all arrive to me, If e're I marry any Man but Bellmour!

Nur.

We are Witnesses as good as a thousand.

Friend.

But now my Friend, I'de have you take your leave, the day comes on apace, and you••ve not seen your Uncle, since your arrival.

Bell.

'Tis death to part with thee my fair Celinda, But our hard Fates, imposes this separation; —Farewell—Remember thou'rt all mine.

Cel.

What have I else of joy to think upon— —Go—go—depart.

Bell.

I will—but 'tis as Misers part with Gold, Or people full of Health depart from Life.

Friend.

Go, Sister, to your Bed, and dream of him.

[Ex. Cel. and Nurse.

Bell.

Whilst I prepare to meet this Fopp to fight him.

Friend.

Hang him, he'll ne're meet thee; to beat a Watch, or kick a Drawer, or batter Windows, is the highest pitch of Valor he e're ar∣riv'd to.

Bell.

However I'll expect him, lest he be Fool-hardy enough to keep his word.

Friend.

Shall I wait on thee?

Bell.

No, no, there••s no need of that—Good morrow my best Friend.

Friend.

But e're you go, my dearest Friend and Brother, Now you are sure of all the joyes you wish From Heav'n, do not forgetful grow, of that great trust I gave you of all mine, but like a Friend Assist me in my great concern of Love With fair Diana, your lovely Cozen; You know how long, I have ador'd that Maid, But still her haughty Pride repell'd my flame, And all it•• fierce efforts

Bell.

She has a spirit equal to her Beauty As mighty and tyrannick, yet she has goodness, And I believe enough inclin'd to Love, When once her Pride's orecome; I have the honour To be the Confident of all her thoughts: And to ••ugment thy hopes, 'tis not long since, She did with sighs confess to me, she Lov'd A Man she said scarce equal to her Fortune; But all my interest could not learn the Object: But it must needs be you, by what she said This I'll improve, and so to your advantage—

Friend.

I neither doubt thy Industry, nor Love, Go and be careful of my Int'rest there, Whilst I preserve thine as intirely here.

[Ex. severally.

Scene 2.

Enter Sir Timothy, Sham and Sharp.

Sharp.

Good morrow Sir Timothy, what not yet ready, and to mee•• Mr. Bellmour at five, the time's past.

Sir Tim.

—Ay Pox on't—I han't slep to night for thinking on't.

Sham▪

Well Sir Timothy, I have most excellent News for you, that will do as well, I have found out—

Sir Tim.

A new Wench, I warrant—but prethee Sham, I have ••••ther matters in hand; 'Sheart I am so mortifi'd with this same though•• of Fighting, that I shall hardly think of Woman kind again.

Sharp.

You were so forward Sir Timothy—

Sir Tim.

Ay Sharp, I am alwayes so when I'm angry; had I been but a little more provok'd then, that we might have gone to't when the heat was brisk, I had done well—but a Pox on't this fighting in cool blood I hate.

Sham.

'Shaw, Sir, 'tis nothing, a Man wou'd do't for Exercise in a morning.

Sir Tim.

Ay, if there were no more in't than Exercise; if a Man co••'d take a Breathing without breathing a Vein—but Sham, this Wounds, and Blood, sounds terribly in my ears; but since thou say'st 'tis nothing, prethee do thou meet Bellmour in my stead; thou art a poor Dog, and 'tis no matter if the world were well rid of thee.

Sham.

I wou'd do't with all my Soul—but your Honour Sir—

Sir Tim.

—My Honour! 'tis but Custom that makes it Honourable to fight Duels—I warrant you the wise Italian, thinks himself a Man of Honour; and yet when did you hear of an Italian, that ever fought a Duel? Is't not enough, I am affronted, have my Mistriss taken away be∣fore my face, hear my self call'd, Dull, Common Man, Dull Animal, and the rest—But I must after all give him leave to kill me too, if he can— And this is your damn'd Honourable English way of shewing a Mans Courage.

Sham.

I must confess I am of your mind, and therefore have been studying a Revenge, sutable to the Affront: and if I can judge any thing, I have hit it.

Sir Tim.

Hast thou? dear Sham, out with it.

Sham.

Why Sir—what think you of debauching his Sister?

Sir Tim

Why is there such a thing in Nature?

Sham.

You know he has a Sister, Sir.

Sir Tim.

Yes, Rich, and Fair.

Sham.

Both, or she were not worthy of your Revenge.

Sir Tim.

Oh how I love Revenge, that has a double pleasure in it— and where—and where—is this fine piece of temptation?

Sham.

In being Sir—but Sharp here, and I, have been at some cost in finding her out.

Sir Tim.

Ye shall be overpaid—there's Gold, my little Maquero but she's very handsom?

Sharp.

As a Goddess, Sir.

Sir Tim.

And art thou sure she will be Lewd?

Sharp.

Are we sure she's a Woman, Sir?—Sure she's in her Teens? has Pride and Vanity—and two or three Sins more, that I cou'd ••ame, all which never fails to assist a Woman in Debauchery—But Sir, there are certain people that b••long to her, that must be consider'd too.

Sir Tim.

Stay Sir, e're I part with more money, I'll be certain what returns 'twill make me—that is—I'll see the Wench, not to inform my self, how well I like her, for that I shall do, because she is new, and Bell∣mours Sister—but to find what possibility there is in gaining her—I am us'd to these things, and can ••uess from a look, or a kiss, or a touch of the hand—but then I warrant, 'twill come to the knowledge of Betty Flau••tit.

Sham▪

What Sir—then it seems you doubt us?

Sir Tim.

How do you mean, your honesty or judgment? I can assure you, I doubt both.

Sharp.

How Sir? doubt our honesty?

Sir Tim.

Yes—why I hope neither of you pretend to either, do you?

Sham.

Why, Sir, what do you take us for Cheats?

Sir Tim.

As errant, as any's in Christendom.

Sharp.

How Sir?—

Sir Tim.

Why how now—what flie in my face? are you•• stomachs so queasie, that Cheat won't down with you?

Sham.

Why Sir—we are Gentlemen—and tho' our ill Fortunes have thrown us on your Bounty—we are not to be term'd—

Sir Tim.

Why you pair of Hectors—whence this impudence? —De'e you know me ye Raggamuffins?

Sham.

Yes, but we knew not that you were a Coward before. You talkt big, and huft where e••re you came, like an errant Bully, and so long we Reverenc'd you—but now we find, you have need of our Courage— we'll stand on our Reputations.

Sir Tim.

C••urage and Reputation!—h••, ha, ha—why ye lowsie Tatter∣demallions —dare ye talk of Courage and Reputation?

Sharp.

Why, Sir, who dares question either?

Sir Tim.

He that dares try it.

[Ki••ks 'em.

Sharp.

Hold, Sir, hold.

Sham.

Enough, enough, we are satisfi'd.

Sir Tim.

So am not I, ye mangy Mungrels, till I have kickt Courage and Reputation out of ye.

Sham.

Hold there Sir, ••tis enough we are satisfi'd, that you have Courage.

Sir Tim.

Oh are you so? then it seems I was not to be believ'd— I told you I had Courage when I was angry.

Sham

Ay Sir, we have prov'd it, and will now swear it. —But we had an inclination to try Sir.

Sir Tim.

And all you did, was but to try my Courage—hah!

Sharp.

On our Honours nothing else Sir Timothy.

Sir Tim

Tho•• I know ye to be cursed cowardly lying Rogues, Y••t because I have use of ye, I must forgive ye. —Here kiss my hand, and be forgiven.

Sham.

'Tis an Honour we are proud of Sir.

Sir Tim.

Oh is it so Rascallians! then I hope I am to see the Lady without I••dentures.

Sharp.

Oh Lord Sir! any thing we can serve you in.

Sham.

And I have brib'd her Maid to bring her this morning into the M••ll.

Sir Tim.

Well, let's about it then; for I am for no Fighting to day— De'e hear Boy—Let the Coach be got ready, whilst I get my self drest

Boy.

The Coach Sir! Why you know Mr Shatter has pawn'd the Horses.

Sir Tim.

I had forgot it—A Pox on't, this 'tis to have a Partner in a Coach; By Fortune I must Marry, and set up a whole one.

[Ex.

Scene 3.

Enter Charles Bellmour and Trusty.

Trusty.

Mr Charles, your Brother, my young Master Bellmour is come.

Char.

I••m glad on't; my Unkle, began to be impatient that he came not, you saying you left him but a dayes journey behind you yesterday. My Unkle has something of importance to say to him, I fansie it may be about a Marriage between him and my Lady Diana—such a whisper I heard—

Trusty.

I Marry Sir, that were a Match indeed, she being your Unkles onely Heir.

Char.

Ay but they are Sisters Children, and too near akin to be happy.

Trusty.

'Twere pity my young Master shou'd be unhappy in a Wife; for he is the sweetest natur'd Gentleman—But one comfort is Mr Charles, you, and your Sister Mrs ••hillis, will have your Portions assign'd you ••f he Marry.

Char.

Yes, that he can't deny us the very day after his Marriage.

Trusty.

I shall be glad to see you all dispos'd of well; but I was half afraid, your Brother wou'd have Married Mrs Celinda Friendlove, to whom he made notable Love in Yorkshire, I thought; not but she's a fine Lady; but her Fortune is below that of my young Master••, as much as my Lady Diana's is above his—But see, they come—let us retire, to give 'em leave to talk alone.

[Exeunt.

Enter Lord Plotwell and Bellmour.

Lord.

And well Frank, how dost thou find thy self inclin'd, tho•• ••••o••'dst begin to think of something more than Books? Dost thou not

wish to know the joyes that are to be found in a woman Frank? I well remember at thy age I fancy'd a thousand fine things of that kind.

Bell.

Ay my Lord, a thousand more perhaps than are to be found.

Lord.

Not so; but I confess Frank unless the Lady be fair, and there be some Love too, 'tis not altogether so well; therefore I, who am still busie for thy good, have fixt upon a Lady—

Bell.

Ha!—

Lord.

What dost start? Nay, I'll warrant thee she'll please, A Lady rich, and fair, and Nobly born, and thou shalt Marry her Frank.

Bell.

Marry her my Lord—

Lord.

Why yes Marry her—I hope you are none of the fashionable Fopps, that are alwayes in mutiny against Marriage, who never think themselves very witty, but when they rail against Heav'n and a Wife— But Frank, I have found better Principles in thee, and thou hast the Re∣putation of a sober young Gentleman, thou art besides a Man of great Fortune Frank.

Bell.

And therefore Sir, ought the less to be a Slave.

Lord.

But Frank, we are made for one another, and ought by the Laws of God, to communicate our blessings▪

Bell.

Sir, there are Men enough, fitter much than I, to obey those Laws, nor do I think them made for every one.

Lord.

But Frank, you do not know what a Wife I have provided fo•• you.

Bell.

'Tis enough I know she's a Woman, Sir.

Lord.

A Woman, why what should she be else?

Bell.

An Angel, Sir, e're she can be my Wife.

Lord.

In good time, but this is a Mortal Sir—and must serve your turn—but Frank, she is the finest Mortal—

Bell.

I humbly beg your pardon, if I tell you, That had she Beauty such as Heav'n ne're made, Nor meant again t' inrich a Woman with, It cou'd not take my heart.

Lord.

But Sir, perhaps you do not guess the Lady.

Bell.

Or cou'd I Sir, it cou'd not change my nature.

Lord.

But Sir, suppose it be my Neece Diana.

Bell.

How Sir? the fair Diana.

Lord.

I thought thou'dst come about again; What think you now of Woman-kind, and Wedlock?

Bell.

As I did before, my Lord.

Lord.

What, thou canst not think I am in earnest, I confess Frank, she is above thee in point of Fortune, she being my onely Heir—but sup∣pose 'tis she.

Bell.

Oh I'm undone—Sir I dare not suppose so greatly in favour of my self.

Lord.

But Frank, you must needs suppose—

Bell.

Oh I am ruin'd, lost, for ever lost.

Lord.

What do you mean Sir?

Bell.

I mean I cannot Marry fair Diana.

Lord.

Death how's this?—

Bell.

She is a thing, above my humble wishes—

Lord.

Is that all? take you no care for that, for she loves you already, and I have resolv'd it which is better yet.

Bell.

Love me Sir? I know she cannot, And Heav'n forbid that I should injure her.

Lord.

Sir, this is a put-off: resolve quickly, or I'll compel you.

Bell.

You wou••d not use extremity, What is the forfeit of my disobedience?

Lord.

The loss of all your Fortune, If you refuse the Wife I have provided— Especially a handsom Lady, ••s she is Frank.

Bell.

Oh me unhappy! What cursed Laws provided this severity?

Lord.

Even those of your Fathers disposal, who seeing so many exam∣ples, in this lewd Age, of the ruine of whole Families, by imprudent Marriages, provided otherwise for you.

Bell.

But Sir, admit Diana be inclin'd, And I (by my unhappy Stars so curst) Should be unable to accept the Honour.

Lord.

How Sir? admit?—I can no more admit, Than you can suppose—therefore give me your final answer.

Bell.

Sir, can you think a blessing e're can fall Upon that Pair, whom Interest joins, not Love.

Lord.

Why what's in Diana that you shou'd not love her?

Bell.

I must confess she has a thousand Virtues, The least of which wou'd bless another Man; But Sir, I hope if I am so unhappy As not to love that Lady, you will pardon me.

Lord.

Indeed Sir but I will not, love me this Lady, and marry me this Lady, or I will teach you what it is to refuse such a Lady.

Bell.

Sir, tis not in my power to obey you.

Lord.

How? not in your pow'r?

Bell.

No, Sir, I see my fatal r••ine in your eyes, And know too well your force, and my own misery. —But Sir—when I shall tell you who I've married—

Lord.

Who you've married!—By all that's Sacred if that be true, thou art undone for ever.

Bell.

Oh hear me Sir! I came with hopes to have found you merciful.

Lord.

Expect none from me; no, thou shalt not have so much of thy

Estate, as will afford thee Bread. By Heaven thou shalt not.

Bell.

Oh pity me, my Lord, pity my Youth; It is no Beggar, nor none basely born That I have given my heart ••o, but a Maid, Whose Birth, whose Beauty, and whose Education, Merits the best of Men.

Lord.

Very fine! where is the Priest that durst dispose of you, with∣out my order? Sirrah you are my slave—at least your whole Estate is at my mercy—and besides, I'll charge you with an Action of 5000 l. for your ten Years maintenance: Do you know that this is in my pow'r too?

Bell.

Yes, Sir, and dread your Anger worse than death.

Lord.

Oh Villain! thus to dash my expectation.

Bell.

Sir, on my bended knees, thus low I fall To beg your mercy.

Lord.

Yes, Sir, I will have mercy, I••ll give you Lodging—but in a Dungeon Sir, Where you shall ask your food of Passers by.

Bell.

All this, I know you have the power to do, But, Sir, were I thus cruel, this hard usage Would give me cause to execute it. I wear a Sword, and I dare right my self; And Heav'n wou'd pardon it, if I should kill you: But Heav'n forbid, I shou'd correct that Law, Which gives you power, and orders me obedience.

Lord.

Very well, Sir, I shall ••ame that Courage, and punish that Har∣lot, who e're she be, that has seduc'd ye.

Bell.

How Harlot, Sir!—Death such another word, And through all Laws and Reason I will rush, And reach thy Soul, if mortal like thy Body. —No Sir, she's Chaste, as are the new-made Vows, I breath'd upon her Lips, when last we parted.

Lord.

Who waits there?

Enter Trusty and Servants.

—Shall I be murder'd in my own House? 'Tis time you were remov'd— Go get an Action of 5000 l. enter'd against him; With Officers to Arrest him.

Trusty.

My Lord, 'tis my young Master Bellmour.

Lord.

Ye all dote upon him▪ but he's not the Man you take him for.

Trusty.

How my Lord? not this Mr Bellmour?

Lord.

Dogs obey me.

[Offers to go.

Bell.

Stay Sir—oh stay—what will become of me? 'Twere better that my Life were lost than Fortune— For that being gone, Celinda must not love me. —But to die wretchedly— —Poorly in Prison—whilst I can manage this— —Is below him, that does adore Celinda.

[Draws.

—I'll kill my self—but then—I kill Celinda. —Shou'd I obey this Tyrant—then too she dies. —Yes Sir—You may be cruel—take the Law, —And kill me quickly, 'twill become your justice.

[Weeps.

Lord.

Was I call'd back for this? Yes, I shall take it Sir, do not fear.

[Offers to go.

Bell.

Yet, stay Sir—Have you lost all Humanity? Have you no Se••se of Honour, nor of Horrors!

Lord.

Away with him—go, be gone.

Bell.

Stay Sir! oh God! what is't you'd have me do? —Here—I resign my self unto your will— But oh Celinda!—what will become of thee!

[Weeps.

—Yes, I will Marry—and Diana too.

Lord.

'Tis well you will, had I been good natur'd now, You had been undone, and mist Diana too.

Bell.

But must I Marry?—Needs Marry Sir?— Or lose my Fortune, and my Liberty, Whil'st all my Vows are given to another?

Lord.

By all means, Sir—

Bel••.

If I must Marry any but Celinda, I shall not, Sir, enjoy one moments bliss! I shall be quite unman'd, Cruel and Brutal! A Beast, unsafe for Woman to converse with; Besides, Sir, I have given my Heart and Faith, And any second Marriage is Adultery.

Lord.

Heart and Faith, I am glad 'tis no worse; if the Ceremony of the Church has not past, 'tis well enough.

Bell.

All Sir, that Heaven, and Love requires, is past.

Lord.

Thou art a Fool Frank, come—dry thy Eyes, And receive Diana.—Trusty— Call in my Neece.

Bell.

Yet Sir relent, be kind, and save my soul.

[Ex. Trusty.

Lord.

No more—by Heaven, if you resist my Will, I'll make a strange example of thee, and of that Woman, who e're she be, that drew thee to this folly. Faith and Vows quoth ye.

Bell.

Then I obey.

Enter Trusty and Diana.

Lord.

Look ye here Frank, is this a Lady to be dislik'd?

Come hither Frank—Trusty— Haste for Dr. Tickletext, my Chaplain's not in Town; I'll have them instantly Married—Come hither Diana— Diana, will you Marry your Cozen Frank Bellmour?

Dia.

Yes, if it be your pleasure; Heaven cou'd not let fall a greater blessing.

[Aside.

Lord.

And you Frank, will you Marry my Neece Diana?

Bell.

Since you will have it so.

Lord.

Come follow me then, and you shall be both pleas'd.

Bell.

Oh my Celinda— To preserve thee, what is't I wou'd not do, Forfeit my Heaven, nay more I forfeit you.

[Ex.

Scene 4. The Street.

Enter Sir Timothy Tawdrey, S••am and Sharp.

Sir Tim.

Now Sham, art not thou a damn'd lying Rogue, to make me ••aunter up and down the Mall all this morning, after a Woman that thou knowst in thy Conscience was not likely to be there?

Sham.

Why Sir—if her Maid will be a jilting Whore, how can I help it—Sharp— Thou knowst we presented her handsomly, and she protested she'd do't.

Sharp.

Ay, Ay Sir

[Aside]

but the Devil a Maid we saw.

Sham.

Sir, it may be Things have so fallen out, that she could not pos∣sibly come.

Sir Tim.

Things! a Pox of your Tricks—Well, I see there's no trusting a poor Devil—Well, what device will your Rogueship find out to Cheat me next?

Sham.

Prethee help me out at a dead Lift Sharp.

[Aside.

Sharp.

Cheat you Sir!—If I been't reveng'd on this She-Counsellor of the Patching and Painting, this Letter-in of Midnight Lovers, this Receiver of Bribes for stol'n Pleasures; may I be condemn'd never to make Love to any thing of higher quality.

Sir Tim.

Nay, nay, no Threatning Sharp, it may be she's Innocent yet—Give her t'other Bribe, and try what that will do.

[Gives him money▪

Sham.

No, Sir, I'll have no more to do with frail Woman, in this case, I have a surer way to do your business.

Enter Page with a Letter.

Sir Tim.

Is not that Bellmour's Page?

Sharp.

It is Sir.

Sir Tim.

By Fortune the Rogue's looking for me; he has a Challenge in his hand too.

Sham.

No matter, Sir, Huff it out.

Sir Tim

Prethee do thee Huff him, thou knowst the way on't.

Sham.

What's your bus'ness with Sir Timothy Sir?

Page.

Mine Sir, I don't know the Gentleman, pray which is he?

Sir Tim.

I, I,'t is so—Pox on him.

Sharp.

Well, Boy, I am he—what—Your Master—

Page.

My Master Sir—

Sharp.

Are not you Bellmour's Page?

Page.

Yes, Sir.

Sharp.

Well, your News.

Page.

News Sir? I know of none, but of my Masters being this morning—

Sir Tim.

Ay, there it is—behind Southampton House.

Page.

Married▪ this morning

Sir Tim.

How? Marry'd! 'Slife, has he serv'd me so?

Sham.

The Boy is drunk—Bellmour Married!

Page.

Yes indeed, to the Lady Diana.

Sir Tim.

Diana! Mad by Fortune; what Diana?

Page.

Neece to the Lord Plotwell.

Sir Tim.

Come hither Boy—Art thou sure of this?

Page.

Sir, I am sure of it; and I am going to bespeak Musick for the Ball anon.

Sir Tim.

What hast thou there—a Letter to the Divine Celinda; A dainty Boy—there's money for thee to buy Nickers.

Page.

I humbly thank you.

[Exit.

Sh••rp.

Well, Sir, if this be true, Celinda will be glad of you again.

Sir Tim.

Ay, but I will have none of her—For, look you Sham, there is but two sorts of Love in this World—Now I am sure the Rogue did love her; and since it was not to Marry her, it was for the thing you wot on, as appears by his writing to her now—But yet I will not believe what this Boy said till I see it,

Sham.

Faith Sir, I have thought of a thing, that may both clear your doubt, and give us a little mirth.

Sir Tim.

I conceive thee.

Sham.

I know y'are quick of apprehension, Sir Timothy.

Sir Tim.

O your servant dear Sham—But to let thee see I am none of the dullest, we are to Jigg it in Masquerade this evening, hah.

Sham.

Faith, Sir, you have it, and there you may have an opportunity to Court Bellmour's sister.

Sir Tim.

'Tis a good motion, and we will follow it; send to the Dukes House, and borrow some Habits presently.

Sham.

I'll about it, Sir.

Sir Tim.

Make haste to my Lodging—But heark ye—not a word of

this to Betty ••launtit, ••he'll be up in Arms these two dayes, if she go not with us; and tho•• I think the fond Devil is true to me, yet ••twere worse than Wedlock, if I should be so to her to.

Tho' Whores in all things else the Mast'ry get, In this alone, like Wives, they must submit.

The End of the•• Second Act.