As tawdry Gown and Petticoat gain more (Tho on a dull diseas’d ill-favour’d Whore) Than prettier Frugal, tho on Holy-day, | When every City-Spark has leave to play_, | --Damn her, she must be sound, she is so gay; | _So let the Scenes be fine, you’ll ne’er enquire For Sense, but lofty Flights in nimble Wire. --What we present to Day is none of these, But we cou’d wish it were, for we wou’d please, And that you’ll swear we hardly meant to do: Yet here’s no Sense; Pox on’t, but here’s no Show; But a plain Story, that will give a Taste Of what your Grandsires lov’d i’th’ Age that’s past_. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. MEN. Lord _Plotwell_. _Bellmour_, Nephew to the Lord _Plotwell_, contracted to _Celinda_. _Charles_, Brother to _Bellmour_. _Friendlove_, Brother to _Celinda_, in love with _Diana_. Sir _Timothy Tawdrey_, a Fop-Knight, design’d to marry _Celinda_. _Sham_, | Hangers on to Sir _Timothy_. _Sharp_, | _Trusty_, An old Steward to _Bellmour’s_ Family. Page to _Bellmour_. Page to Lord _Plotwell_. Sir _Timothy’s_ Page. Guests, Dancers, Fiddlers, and Servants. WOMEN. The Lady _Diana_, Niece to the Lord _Plotwell_. _Celinda_, Sister to _Friendlove_, contracted to _Bellmour_. _Phillis_, Sister to _Bellmour_. _Betty Flauntit_, kept by Sir _Timothy_. _Driver_, A Bawd. _Jenny_, | Two Whores _Doll_, | _Nurse_, Ladies and Guests. SCENE, _Covent-Garden_. ACT I. SCENE I. _The Street_. _Enter Sir_ Timothy Tawdrey, Sham, _and_ Sharp. Sir _Tim_. Hereabouts is the House wherein dwells the Mistress of my Heart; for she has Money, Boys, mind me, Money in abundance, or she were not for me--The Wench her self is good-natur’d, and inclin’d to be civil: but a Pox on’t--she has a Brother, a conceited Fellow, whom the World mistakes for a fine Gentleman; for he has travell’d, talks Languages, bows with a _bonne mine_, and the rest; but, by Fortune, he shall entertain you with nothing but Words-- _Sham_. Nothing else!-- Sir _Tim_. No--He’s no Country-Squire, Gentlemen, will not game, whore; nay, in my Conscience, you will hardly get your selves drunk in his Company--He treats A-la-mode, half Wine, half Water, and the rest--But to the Business, this Fellow loves his Sister dearly, and will not trust her in this leud Town, as he calls it, without him; and hither he has brought her to marry me. _Sham_. A Pox upon him for his Pains-- Sir _Tim_. So say I--But my Comfort is, I shall be as weary of her, as the best Husband of ‘em all. But there’s Conveniency in it; besides, the Match being as good as made up by the old Folks in the Country, I must submit--The Wench I never saw yet, but they say she’s handsom--But no matter for that, there’s Money, my Boys. _Sharp_. Well, Sir, we will follow you--but as dolefully as People do their Friends to the Grave, from whence they’re never to return, at least not the same Substance; the thin airy Vision of a brave good Fellow, we may see thee hereafter, but that’s the most.