Sharp.  Hold, Sir, hold.

Sham.  Enough, enough, we are satisfy’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 satisfy’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.  Though I know ye to be cursed cowardly lying Rogues, yet 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 Indentures.

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 Mall.

Sir Tim.  Well, let’s about it then; for I am for no fighting to day—­D’ye 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.  Lord Plotwell’s House.

Enter Charles Bellmour, and Trusty.

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

Char.  I’m glad on’t; my Uncle began to be impatient that he came not, you saying you left him but a day’s Journey behind you yesterday.  My Uncle has something of importance to say to him, I fancy it may be about A Marriage between him and my Lady Diana—­such a Whisper I heard—­

Trusty.  Ay, marry, Sir, that were a Match indeed, she being your Uncle’s only Heir.

Char.  Ay, but they are Sisters Children, and too near a-kin 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. Phillis, will have your Portions assign’d you if 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 would 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’s, as much as my Lady Diana’s is above his—­But see, they come; let us retire, to give ’em leave to talk alone.