_Lord_. This Term, we shall make the former Marriage void; till then love on, and fear no Frowns from Fortune--but Nephew--now I hope your Brother shall have his Portion. _Bel_. My dearest _Charles_, forgive me all that’s past, And share the Fortune Heaven has given thy Brother. _Char_. The Joy I have, Sir, to be undeceived, Is much the greatest Blessing Heav’n can send me. _Enter Sir_ Timothy, _follow’d by_ Phillis, Sham, Sharp, _and_ Betty Flauntit. Sir _Tim_. I am pursu’d by two impertinent Women; prithee, _Friendlove_, tell ‘em I am gone out at the Backdoor, and send ‘em away. _Lord_. What’s the News here? Sir _Tim_. How, _Celinda_ here, and _Bellmour_ too! Nay, now wou’d I compound for my Life, at any rate, by Fortune. _Phil_. Sir, this Villain here has abus’d me, and with a false Marriage has rob’d me of my Honour. _Bel_. How! Sir _Tim_. My Lord, I say this young Jilt would have rob’d me of my self; and courting her, and enjoying her only for a Miss, would persuade me I am married to her. _Flaunt_. Sir, I say, I am doubly wrong’d; first by this false Knight, who has belong’d to me this three Years, which gives me a right to him, as good as if I were married to him; who has now unlawfully left my Bed, for that of this Gilflurt, who, on the other side, takes away my Knight, and consequently eats the Bread out of my Mouth. _Bel_. What means all this? Speak some of ye that know. _Flaunt_. Oh Lord! Who’s here? The fine Squire? [_Aside_. _Trust_. Sir _Timothy Tawdry_, Sir, is married to Mrs. _Phillis_. Sir _Tim_. How can that be a Marriage, when he who join’d us, was but a hired Fellow, dress’d like a Parson? _Trust_. Sir, ‘twas Parson _Tickletext_ that marry’d ‘em. Sir _Tim_. Oh, what a damn’d lying Pimp is this!--_Sham_, didst thou not hire a Fellow, (because I was damnably in Love, and in haste) to marry us, that was no Parson? _Sham_. Why, truly, Sir--I did go to hire such a one-- Sir _Tim_. Look ye there now. _Sham_. But you’d meet with none; and because you said you shou’d die if you enjoy’d her not presently, and that she would not yield on any other Terms, but those of Marriage, I e’en brought the Parson that _Trusty_ had provided for you. Sir _Tim_. Oh Villain, to betray me! and for no Reward! _Trust_. Yes, indeed, Sir, the four hundred Guineas you left behind my young Mistress’s Looking-glass fell to his share. Sir _Tim_. What’s my Money gone! and I am marry’d too! This ‘tis not to use to go to Church; for then I might have chanc’d to know the Parson. _Bel_. Death, you Dog! you deserve to die, for your base Designs upon a Maid of her Quality--How durst you, Sister, without my leave, marry that Rascal? _Phil_. Sir, you deny’d me my Portion, and my Uncle design’d to turn me out of doors, and in my Despair I accepted of him. _Flaunt_. Married! and to a Wife of no Fortune! that’s the worst part on’t--what shall I do?