Volume Iii Part 18 (2/2)

Sir _Tim_. Ha, ha, ha, I thought thou would'st have said at least--had murder'd his Father, or ravish'd his Mother--Break a Vow, quoth ye--by Fortune, I have broke a thousand.

_Bel_. Well said, my Boy! A Man of Honour! And will be ready whene'er the Devil calls for thee--So--ho--more Wine, more Wine, and Dice.

_Enter a Servant with Dice and Wine_.

Come, Sir, let me-- [_Throws and loses_.

Sir _Tim_. What will you set me, Sir?

_Bel_. Cater-tray--a hundred Guineas--oh, d.a.m.n the Dice--'tis mine--come, a full Gla.s.s--d.a.m.nation to my Uncle.

Sir _Tim_. By Fortune, I'll do thee reason--give me the Gla.s.s, and, _Sham_, to thee--Confusion to the musty Lord.

_Bel_. So--now I'm like my self, profanely wicked.

A little room for Life--but such a Life As h.e.l.l it self shall wonder at--I'll have a care To do no one good deed in the whole course on't, Lest that shou'd save my Soul in spite of Vow-breach.

--I will not die--that Peace my Sins deserve not.

I'll live and let my Tyrant Uncle see The sad effects of Perjury, and forc'd Marriage.

--Surely the Pow'rs above envy'd my Bliss; Marrying _Celinda_, I had been an Angel, So truly blest, and good. [_Weeps_.

Sir _Tim_. Why, how now, _Frank_--by Fortune, the Rogue is Maudlin--So, ho, ho, so ho.

_Bel_. The matter?

Sir _Tim_. Oh, art awake--What a Devil ail'st thou, _Frank_?

_Bel_. A Wench, or any thing--come, let's drink a round.

_Sham_. They're come as wisht for.

_Enter_ Flaunt.i.t, Driver, Doll _and_ Jenny _mask'd_.

_Bel_. Oh, d.a.m.n 'em! What shall I do?

Yet it would look like Virtue to avoid 'em.

No, I must venture on--Ladies, y'are welcome.

Sir _Tim_. How, the Women?--Hold, hold, _Bellmour_, let me choose too-- Come, come, unmask, and shew your pretty Faces.

_Flaunt_. How, Sir _Timothy_! What Devil ow'd me a spite. [_Aside_.

Sir _Tim_. Come, unmask, I say: a willing Wench would have shew'd all in half this time.

_Flaunt_. Wou'd she so, Impudence!

[_Pulls off her Mask_.

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