Sir Tim.  I’ll be hang’d first, by Fortune; for then ’twill be plain ’twas I, because I challeng’d Bellmour last Night, and broke my Assignation this Morning. [Aside.

Char.  Shew thy Face without delay, or—­

Sir Tim.  My Face, Sir!  I protest, by Fortune, ’tis not worth seeing.

Char.  Then, Sirrah, you are worth a kicking—­take that—­and that—­
          
                                                 [Kicks him.

Sir Tim.  How, Sir? how?

Char.  So, Sir, so.
                        [Kicks him again.

Sir Tim.  Have a care, Sir—­by Fortune, I shall fight with a little more.

Char.  Take that to raise you.
                                   [Strikes him.

Sir Tim.  Nay, then I am angry, and I dare fight.

[They fight out.

Lord.  Go, Ladies, see the Bride to her Chamber.

[Ex.  Women.

Bel.  The Knight, Sir Timothy Tawdrey;
—­The Rascal mist me at the appointed place,
And comes to attack me here—­
                        [Turns to Cel. 
—­Brave Youth, I know not how
I came to merit this Relief from thee: 
Sure thou art a Stranger to me, thou’rt so kind.

Cel.  Sir, I believe those happy ones that know you Had been far kinder, but I’m indeed a Stranger.

Bel.  Mayst thou be ever so to one so wretched;
I will not ask thy Name, lest knowing it,
(I’m such a Monster) I should ruin thee.

Cel.  Oh, how he melts my Soul!  I cannot stay,
Lest Grief, my Sex, my Bus’ness shou’d betray. [Aside. 
—­Farewel, Sir—­
May you be happy in the Maid you love.
                                            [Exit Cel.

Bel.  O, dost thou mock my Griefs? by Heaven, he did.  —­Stay, Sir, he’s gone.

Enter Charles Bellmour.

Char.  The Rogue took Courage, when he saw there was no Remedy; but there’s no hurt done on either side.

Lord.  ’Tis fit such as he shou’d be chastis’d, that do abuse Hospitality.  Come, come, to Bed; the Lady, Sir, expects you.

Bel.  Gentlemen, good Night.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II_.  A Bed Chamber_.

Enter Diana.

Dia.  I long to know the Cause of Bellmour’s Disorder to Night, and here he comes.

Enter Bellmour, Lord, Charles, and the rest.

Char.  Shan’t we see you laid, Brother?

Bel.  Yes, in my Grave, dear Charles; But I’ll excuse that Ceremony here.

Char.  Good Night, and no Rest to you, Brother.

[Ex. all but Bellmour and Diana.

Dia.  Till now, my Bellmour, I wanted Opportunity
To ask the Cause, why on a joyful Day,
When Heav’n has join’d us by a sacred Tie,
Thou droop’st like early Flowers with Winter-storms.