Day we'll set apart for Mirth,
And all must make my House their happy home.

_Bel_. To thee, _Celinda_! all my Good I owe,
My Life, my Fortune, and my Honour too,
Since all had perish'd by a broken Vow.

_Flaunt_. What, am I like to lose my _Timmy_? Canst thou have the Heart
to leave me for ever? I who have been true and constant to you?

Sir _Tim_. Alas! now I must melt again, by Fortune--thou art a Fool,
dost think I wou'd have had her, but for her Fortune? which shall only
serve to make thee out-flaunt all the Cracks in Town--go--go home and
expect me, thou'lt have me all to thy self within this Day or two:

Since Marriage but a larger Licence is
For every Fop of Mode to keep a Miss.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Sir _Timothy Tawdrey_.

_Sir_ Timothy, _Gallants, at last is come
To know his Sentence, and receive his Doom,
But pray before you are resolv'd to be
Severe, look on your selves, and then on me;
Observe me well, I am a Man of Show,
Of Noise, and Nonsense, as are most of you.
Though all of you don't share with me in Title,
In Character you differ very little.
Tell me in what you find a Difference?
It may be you will say, you're Men of Sense;
But Faith--
Were one of you o'th' Stage, and I i'th' Pit,
He might be thought the Fop, and I the Wit.
On equal Grounds you'll scarce know one from t'other;
We are as like, as Brother is to Brother.
To judge against me then wou'd be Ill-Nature,
For Men are kind to those they're like in Feature.
For Judges therefore I accept you all;
By you, Sir_ Timothy _will stand or fall.
He's too faint-hearted that his Sentence fears,
Who has the Honour to be try'd by's Peers_.

Written by Mr. _E.R_.

THE FALSE COUNT.

ARGUMENT.

Don Carlos, Governor of Cadiz, who has been contracted to Julia, now
married to a rich old churl, Francisco, in order to gain her, mans a
galley, which has been captured from the Turks, with some forty or fifty
attendants disguised as ferocious Ottomans; and whilst she, her husband
and a party of friends are taking a pleasure trip in a yacht, they are
suddenly boarded and all made prisoners by the supposed corsairs, who
carry them off to a country villa a few miles from the town belonging to
Carlos' friend, Antonio, which, however, they are firmly convinc'd is a
palace inhabited by the Great Turk himself. Here Carlos appears, dressed
as the Sultan, with much pomp, and Francisco, overwhelmed with terror,
speedily relinqui