Lord Plotwell. Bellmour, Nephew to the Lord Plotwell, contracted to Celinda. Charles, Brother to Bellmour. Friendlove, Brother to Celinda, in love with Diana.  Sir Timothy Tawdrey, a Fop-Knight, design’d to marry Celinda. Sham, | Hangers on to Sir Timothy. Sharp, | Trusty, An old Steward to Bellmour’s Family.  Page to Bellmour.  Page to Lord Plotwell.  Sir Timothy’s Page.  Guests, Dancers, Fiddlers, and Servants.

WOMEN.

The Lady Diana, Niece to the Lord Plotwell. Celinda, Sister to Friendlove, contracted to Bellmour. Phillis, Sister to Bellmour. Betty Flauntit, kept by Sir Timothy. Driver, A Bawd. Jenny, | Two Whores Doll, | Nurse, Ladies and Guests.

SCENE, Covent-Garden.

ACT I.

SCENE I. The Street.

    Enter Sir Timothy Tawdrey, Sham, and Sharp.

Sir Tim.  Hereabouts is the House wherein dwells the Mistress of my Heart; for she has Money, Boys, mind me, Money in abundance, or she were not for me—­The Wench her self is good-natur’d, and inclin’d to be civil:  but a Pox on’t—­she has a Brother, a conceited Fellow, whom the World mistakes for a fine Gentleman; for he has travell’d, talks Languages, bows with a bonne mine, and the rest; but, by Fortune, he shall entertain you with nothing but Words—­

Sham.  Nothing else!—­

Sir Tim.  No—­He’s no Country-Squire, Gentlemen, will not game, whore; nay, in my Conscience, you will hardly get your selves drunk in his Company—­He treats A-la-mode, half Wine, half Water, and the rest—­But to the Business, this Fellow loves his Sister dearly, and will not trust her in this leud Town, as he calls it, without him; and hither he has brought her to marry me.

Sham.  A Pox upon him for his Pains—­

Sir Tim.  So say I—­But my Comfort is, I shall be as weary of her, as the best Husband of ’em all.  But there’s Conveniency in it; besides, the Match being as good as made up by the old Folks in the Country, I must submit—­The Wench I never saw yet, but they say she’s handsom—­But no matter for that, there’s Money, my Boys.

Sharp.  Well, Sir, we will follow you—­but as dolefully as People do their Friends to the Grave, from whence they’re never to return, at least not the same Substance; the thin airy Vision of a brave good Fellow, we may see thee hereafter, but that’s the most.