The next Morning before the Titular King was (I won’t say up, or stirring, but) out of Bed, young _Goodland_ and _Philibella_ were privately marry’d; the Bills being all accepted and paid in two Days Time. As soon as ever the fantastick Monarch could find in his Heart to divorce himself from the dear and charming Embraces of his beautiful Bedfellow, he came flying to Sir _Philip_, with all the Haste that Imagination big with Pleasure could inspire him with, to discharge it self to a suppos’d Friend. The Knight told him, that he was really much troubled to find that his Niece had yielded so soon and easily to him; however, he wish’d him Joy: To which the other return’d, that he could never want it, whilst he had the Command of so much Beauty, and that without the ungrateful Obligations of Matrimony, which certainly are the most nauseous, hateful, pernicious and destructive of Love imaginable. Think you so, Sir? (ask’d the Knight;) we shall hear what a Friend of mine will say on such an Occasion, to-morrow about this Time: but I beseech your Majesty to conceal your Sentiments of it to him, lest you make him as uneasy as you seem to be in that Circumstance. Be assur’d I will, (return’d the other:) But when shall I see the sweet, the dear, the blooming, the charming _Philibella_? She will be with us at Dinner. Where’s her Majesty? (ask’d Sir _Philip_) Had you enquir’d before, she had been here; for, look, she comes! _Friendly_ seems to regard her with a Kind of Displeasure, and whisper’d Majesty, that he should express no particular Symptoms of Familiarity with _Lucy_ in his House, at any Time, especially when _Goodland_ was there, as then he was above with his Lady and _Philibella_, who came down presently after to Dinner.