's here? The fine Squire? [_Aside_.

_Trust_. Sir _Timothy Tawdry_, Sir, is married to Mrs. _Phillis_.

Sir _Tim_. How can that be a Marriage, when he who join'd us, was but
a hired Fellow, dress'd like a Parson?

_Trust_. Sir, 'twas Parson _Tickletext_ that marry'd 'em.

Sir _Tim_. Oh, what a damn'd lying Pimp is this!--_Sham_, didst thou
not hire a Fellow, (because I was damnably in Love, and in haste) to
marry us, that was no Parson?

_Sham_. Why, truly, Sir--I did go to hire such a one--

Sir _Tim_. Look ye there now.

_Sham_. But you'd meet with none; and because you said you shou'd die
if you enjoy'd her not presently, and that she would not yield on any
other Terms, but those of Marriage, I e'en brought the Parson that
_Trusty_ had provided for you.

Sir _Tim_. Oh Villain, to betray me! and for no Reward!

_Trust_. Yes, indeed, Sir, the four hundred Guineas you left behind my
young Mistress's Looking-glass fell to his share.

Sir _Tim_. What's my Money gone! and I am marry'd too! This 'tis not to
use to go to Church; for then I might have chanc'd to know the Parson.

_Bel_. Death, you Dog! you deserve to die, for your base Designs upon
a Maid of her Quality--How durst you, Sister, without my leave, marry
that Rascal?

_Phil_. Sir, you deny'd me my Portion, and my Uncle design'd to turn me
out of doors, and in my Despair I accepted of him.

_Flaunt_. Married! and to a Wife of no Fortune! that's the worst part
on't--what shall I do?

_Bel_. Renounce this leud Fool, and I'll make thee a Fortune suitable
to thy Quality.

Sir _Tim_. Say you so?--Renounce me, Sir! I'd have you to know I merit
her: And as for Leudness, I name no body, _Bellmour_--but only some have
the Art of hiding it better than I--but for Whoring, Drinking, Dicing,
and all the deadly Sins that thereupon depend, I thank my Stars, I come
short of you: And since you say, I shall not have your Sister, by
Fortune, I will have your Sister, and love your Sister, and lie with
your Sister, inspite of you.

_Lord_. Well, Sir _Timothy_, since my Niece has done amiss, 'tis too
late to mend it--and that you may not repent, I'll take care her Fortune
shall be suitable to the Jointure you'll make her.

_Bel_. With this Proviso, that you make no Settlement to Misses, Sir
_Timothy_--I am not so unreasonable to tie you up from all of that
Profession; that were to spoil a fashionable Husband, and so put you
quite out of Fop-road.

_Lord_. This