Volume Iii Part 20 (2/2)

_Bel_. I kill'd her--ask no more, but leave me.

[_Turns him about again_.

_Char_. Sir, this is Madman's Language, and not to be believed.

_Bel_. Go to--y'are a saucy Boy.

_Char_. Sir, I'm an angry Boy-- But yet can bear much from a Brother's Mouth; Y'ave lost your sleep: pray, Sir, go home and seek it.

_Bel_. Home! I have no Home, unless thou mean'st my Grave, And thither I cou'd wish thou wou'd conduct me. [_Weeps_.

_Flaunt_. Pray Heaven this young virtuous Fellow don't spoil all.

--Sir, shall I send for a Scrivener to draw the Settlement you promis'd me?

_Bel_. Do so, and I'll order him to get it ready.

_Char_. A Settlement! On whom? This Woman, Sir?

_Bel_. Yes, on this Woman, Sir.

_Char_. Are you stark mad?--Know you where you are?

_Bel_. Yes, in a Baudy-house.

_Char_. And this Woman, Sir.--

_Bel_. A very Wh.o.r.e--a tawdry mercenary Wh.o.r.e!

And what of this?

_Char_. And can you love her, Sir?

_Bel_. No, if I did, I wou'd not gratify her.

_Char_. What, is't in Charity to keep her honest?

_Bel_. Neither.

_Char_. Is your l.u.s.t grown so high--

_Bel_. Take that-- [_Strikes him_.

For naming but so base a thing to me.

_Char_. I wear a Sword, but not to draw on Mad-men. But since y'are so free, Sir, I demand that Fortune, which by my Father's Will y'are bound to pay the day after your Wedding-Day; my Sister's too is due.

_Bel_. Ha, ha, ha,--Sir _Timothy_, come hither--who dost think this is?

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