Sir. _Tim_. Ay, but I will have none of her--For, look you, _Sham_, there is but two sorts of Love in this World--Now I am sure the Rogue did love her; and since it was not to marry her, it was for the thing you wot on, as appears by his writing to her now--But yet, I will not believe what this Boy said, till I see it. _Sham_. Faith, Sir, I have thought of a thing, that may both clear your doubt, and give us a little Mirth. Sir _Tim_. I conceive thee. _Sham_. I know y’are quick of Apprehension, Sir _Timothy_. Sir _Tim_. O, your Servant, dear _Sham_--But to let thee see, I am none of the dullest, we are to Jig it in Masquerade this Evening, hah. _Sham_. Faith, Sir, you have it, and there you may have an Opportunity to court _Bellmour’s_ Sister. Sir _Tim_. ‘Tis a good Motion, and we will follow it; send to the Duke’s House, and borrow some Habits presently. _Sham_. I’ll about it, Sir. Sir _Tim_. Make haste to my Lodging--But hark ye--not a word of this to _Betty Flauntit_, she’ll be up in Arms these two Days, if she go not with us; and though I think the fond Devil is true to me, yet it were worse than Wedlock, if I should be so to her too. _Tho Whores in all things else the Mastery get, In this alone, like Wives, they must submit_. Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. _A Room in Lord_ Plotwell’s _House_. _Enter Lord_ Plotwell, Bellmour _leading in_ Diana, _follow’d by _Charles Bellmour, Phillis, _and other Ladies and Gentlemen_. [_Musick plays, till they are all seated_. _Lord_. Here, Nephew, I resign that Trust, which was repos’d in me by your dead Father; which was, that on your Wedding-Day I should thus-- make you Master of your whole Fortune, you being married to my liking-- And now, _Charles_, and you, my Niece _Phillis_, you may demand your Portions to morrow, if you please, for he is oblig’d to pay you the Day after that of his Marriage. _Phil_. There’s time enough, my Lord. _Lord_. Come, come, Ladies, in troth you must take but little Rest to Night, in complaisance to the Bride and Bridegroom, who, I believe, will take but little--_Frank_--why, _Frank_--what, hast thou chang’d thy Humour with thy Condition? Thou wert not wont to hear the Musick play in vain. _Bel_. My Lord, I cannot dance. _Dia_. Indeed, you’re wondrous sad, And I, methinks, do bear thee Company, I know not why; and yet excess of Joy Have had the same Effects with equal Grief. _Bel_. ‘Tis true, and I have now felt the Extremes of both. _Lord_. Why, Nephew _Charles_--has your Breeding at the Academy instructed your Heels in no Motion? _Char_. My Lord, I’ll make one. _Phil_. And I another, for Joy that my Brother’s made happy in so fair a Bride.