ppose by the great Jointure he makes her, and the improbability
of your ever gaining your Pardon for your high Duel--Do I speak
_English_ now, Sir?

_Bel_. Too well, would I had never heard thee.

_Gay_. Now I being the Confident in your Amours, the Jack-go-between--
the civil Pimp or so--you left her in charge with me at your Departure.

_Bel_. I did so.

_Gay_. I saw her every day; and every day she paid the Tribute of a
shower of Tears, to the dear Lord of all her Vows, young _Bellmour_:
Till faith at last, for Reasons manifold, I slackt my daily Visits.

_Bel_. And left her to Temptation--was that well done?

_Gay_. Now must I afflict you and my self with a long tale of Causes why;
Or be charg'd with want of Friendship.

_Bel_. You will do well to clear that Point to me.

_Gay_. I see you're peevish, and you shall be humour'd.--You know my
_Julia_ play'd me e'en such another Prank as your false one is going to
play you, and married old Sir _Cautious Fulbank_ here i'th' City; at
which you know I storm'd, and rav'd, and swore, as thou wo't now, and
to as little purpose. There was but one way left, and that was
cuckolding him.

_Bel_. Well, that Design I left thee hot upon.

_Gay_. And hotly have pursu'd it: Swore, wept, vow'd, wrote, upbraided,
prayed and railed; then treated lavishly, and presented high--till,
between you and I, _Harry_, I have presented the best part of Eight
hundred a year into her Husband's hands, in Mortgage.

_Bel_. This is the Course you'd have me steer, I thank you.

_Gay_. No, no, Pox on't, all Women are not Jilts. Some are honest, and
will give as well as take; or else there would not be so many broke
i'th' City. In fine, Sir, I have been in Tribulation, that is to say,
Moneyless, for six tedious Weeks, without either Clothes, or Equipage to
appear withal; and so not only my own Love-affair lay neglected--but
thine too--and I am forced to pretend to my Lady, that I am i'th'
Country with a dying Uncle--from whom, if he were indeed dead, I expect
two thousand a Year.

_Bel_. But what's all this to being here this Morning?

_Gay_. Thus have I lain conceal'd like a Winter-Fly, hoping for some
blest Sunshine to warm me into life again, and make me hover my flagging
Wings; till the News of this Marriage (which fills the Town) made me
crawl out this silent Hour, to upbraid the fickle Maid.

_Bel_. Didst thou?--pursue thy kind Design. Get me to see her; and sure
no Woman, even poss