_Bel_. However, I'll expect him, lest he be fool-hardy enough to keep his Word.
_Friend_. Shall I wait on thee?
_Bel_. No, no, there's no need of that--Good-morrow, my best Friend.
_Friend_. But e'er you go, my dearest Friend and Brother, Now you are sure of all the Joys you wish From Heaven, 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 Cousin.
You know how long I have ador'd that Maid; But still her haughty Pride repell'd my Flame, And all its fierce Efforts.
_Bel_. 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 o'ercome. I have the Honour To be the Confident of all her Thoughts: And to augment 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 Interest there, Whilst I preserve thine as intirely here.
[_Ex. severally_.
SCENE III. _Sir_ Timothy's _House_.
_Enter Sir_ Timothy, Sham, Sharp, _and_ Boy.
_Sharp_. Good morrow, Sir _Timothy_; what, not yet ready, and to meet Mr. _Bellmour_ at Five? the time's past.
Sir _Tim_.--Ay, Pox on't--I han't slept 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 prithee, _Sham_, I have other matters in hand; 'Sheart, I am so mortify'd with this same thought of Fighting, that I shall hardly think of Womankind again.
_Sharp_. And you were so forward, Sir Timothy--
Sir _Tim_. Ay, _Sharp_, I am always so when I am 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 cou'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, prithee 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, that I am affronted, have my Mistress taken away before 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 Man's 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 _Maquere_--but she's very handsom?
_Sharp_. As a Goddess, Sir.
Sir _Tim_. And art thou sure she will be leud?
_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 name, all which never fail to assist a Woman in Debauchery--But, Sir, there are certain People that belong to her, that must be consider'd too.
Sir _Tim_. Stay, Sir, e'er 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 _Bellmour's_ Sister--but to find what possibility there is in gaining her.--I am us'd to these things, and can guess from a Look, or a Kiss, or a Touch of the Hand--but then I warrant, 'twill come to the knowledge of _Betty Flauntit_.
_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, fly in my Face? Are your Stomachs so queasy, that Cheat won't down with you?
_Sham_. Why, Sir, we are Gentlemen; and though 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?--Do ye know me, ye Raggamuffins?
_Sham_. Yes, but we knew not that you were a Coward before. You talkt big, and huft where-e'er 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 own Reputations.
Sir _Tim_. Courage and Reputation!--ha, ha, ha--why, you lousy Tatterdemallions--dare ye talk of Courage and Reputation?
_Sharp_. Why, Sir, who dares question either?
Sir _Tim_. He that dares try it. [Kicks 'em.