this way.
[_Goes to the door as he is knocking, pushes him away, and draws_.

_Gay_. Hah! what art thou that durst forbid me Entrance?--Stand off.

[_They fight a little, and closing view each other_.

_Bel_. _Gayman_!

_Gay_. My dearest _Bellmour_!

_Bel_. Oh thou false Friend, thou treacherous base Deceiver!

_Gay_. Hah, this to me, dear _Harry_?

_Bel_. Whither is Honour, Truth and Friendship fled?

_Gay_. Why, there ne'er was such a Virtue,
'Tis all a Poet's Dream.

_Bel_. I thank you, Sir.

_Gay_. I'm sorry for't, or that ever I did any thing that could deserve
it: put up your Sword--an honest man wou'd say how he's offended, before
he rashly draws.

_Bel_. Are not you going to be married, Sir?

_Gay_. No, Sir, as long as any Man in _London_ is so, that has but a
handsom Wife, Sir.

_Bel_. Are you not in love, Sir?

_Gay_. Most damnably,--and wou'd fain lie with the dear jilting Gipsy.

_Bel_. Hah, who would you lie with, Sir?

_Gay_. You catechise me roundly--'tis not fair to name, but I am no
Starter, _Harry_; just as you left me, you find me. I am for the
faithless _Julia_ still, the old Alderman's Wife.--'Twas high time the
City should lose their Charter, when their Wives turn honest: But pray,
Sir, answer me a Question or two.

_Bel_. Answer me first, what makes you here this Morning?

_Gay_. Faith, to do you service. Your damn'd little Jade of a Mistress
has learned of her Neighbours the Art of Swearing and Lying in
abundance, and is--

_Bel_. To be married! [Sighing.

_Gay_. Even so, God save the Mark; and she'll be a fair one for many an
Arrow besides her Husband's, though he an old _Finsbury_ Hero this
threescore Years.

_Bel_. Who mean you?

_Gay_. Why, thy Cuckold that shall be, if thou be'st wise.

_Bel_. Away; Who is this Man? thou dalliest with me.

_Gay_. Why, an old Knight, and Alderman here o'th' City, Sir _Feeble
Fainwou'd_, a jolly old Fellow, whose Activity is all got into his
Tongue, a very excellent Teazer; but neither Youth nor Beauty can grind
his Dudgeon to an Edge.

_Bel_. Fie, what Stuff's here!

_Gay_. Very excellent Stuff, if you have but the Grace to improve it.

_Bel_. You banter me--but in plain _English_, tell me,
What made you here thus early,
Entring yon House with such Authority?

_Gay_. Why, your Mistress _Leticia_, your contracted Wife, is this
Morning to be married to old Sir _Feeble Fainwou'd_, induc'd to't I
su