Volume Iii Part 56 (2/2)

[_Offers to go_, Gay. _holds him_.

_Gay_. Hold, remember you're proscribed, And die if you are taken.

_Bel_. I've done, and I will live, but he shall ne'er enjoy her.

--Who's yonder, _Ralph_, my trusty Confident?

_Enter_ Ralph.

Now though I perish I must speak to him.

--Friend, what Wedding's this?

_Ral_. One that was never made in Heaven, Sir; 'Tis Alderman _Fainwou'd_, and Mrs. _Leticia Bredwel_.

_Bel_. Bredwel--I have heard of her,--she was Mistress--

_Ral_. To fine Mr. _Bellmour_, Sir,--ay, there was a Gentleman --But rest his Soul--he's hang'd, Sir. [_Weeps_.

_Bel_. How! hang'd?

_Ral_. Hang'd, Sir, hang'd--at the _Hague_ in _Holland_.

_Gay_. I heard some such News, but did not credit it.

_Bel_. For what, said they, was he hang'd?

_Ral_. Why, e'en for High Treason, Sir, he killed one of their Kings.

_Gay_. Holland's a Commonwealth, and is not rul'd by Kings.

_Ral_. Not by one, Sir, but by a great many; this was a Cheesemonger --they fell out over a Bottle of Brandy, went to Snicker Snee; Mr.

_Bellmour_ cut his Throat, and was hang'd for't, that's all, Sir.

_Bel_. And did the young Lady believe this?

_Ral_. Yes, and took on most heavily--the Doctors gave her over--and there was the Devil to do to get her to consent to this Marriage--but her Fortune was small, and the hope of a Ladys.h.i.+p, and a Gold Chain at the Spittal Sermon, did the Business--and so your Servant, Sir.

[_Ex_. Ralph.

_Bel_. So, here's a hopeful Account of my sweet self now.

_Enter Post-man with Letters_.

_Post_. Pray, Sir, which is Sir _Feeble Fainwou'd's_?

_Bel_. What wou'd you with him, Friend?

_Post_. I have a Letter here from the _Hague_ for him.

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