me to
love you with all your Faults.

_Phil_. You? Pray who are you?

Sir _Tim_. A Man, a Gentleman--and more, a Knight too, by Fortune.

_Phil_. Then 'twas not by Merit, Sir--But how shall I know you are
either of these?

Sir _Tim_. That I'm a Man, the Effects of my vigorous Flame shall prove
--a Gentleman, my Coat of Arms shall testify; and I have the King's
Patent for my Title.

_Phil_. For the first you may thank your Youth, for the next your Father,
and the last your Money.

Sir _Tim_. By Fortune, I love thee for thy Pertness.

_Phil_. Is it possible you can love at all?

Sir _Tim_. As much as I dare.

_Phil_. How do you mean?

Sir _Tim_. Not to be laught at; 'tis not the Mode to love much; A
Platonick Fop I have heard of, but this is an Age of sheer Enjoyment,
and little Love goes to that; we have found it incommode, and loss of
time, to make long Addresses.

_Enter_ Celinda _like a Boy_.

_Phil_. I find, Sir, you and I shall never agree upon this matter;
But see, Sir, here's more Company.

_Cel_. Oh Heaven! 'tis true, these Eyes confirm my Fate.
Yonder he is--and that fair splendid Thing,
That gazes on him with such kind Desire,
Is my blest Rival--Oh, he is married!
--Gods! And yet you let him live;
Live too with all his Charms, as fine and gay,
As if you meant he shou'd undo all easy Maids,
And kill 'em for their Sin of loving him.
Wretched _Celinda_!
But I must turn my Eyes from looking on
The fatal Triumphs of my Death--Which of all these
Is my Brother? Oh, that is he: I know him
By the Habit he sent for to the Play-House.
[Points to Sir Tim.
And hither he's come in Masquerade,
I know with some Design against my _Bellmour_,
Whom though he kill me, I must still preserve:
Whilst I, lost in despair, thus as a Boy
Will seek a Death from any welcome Hand,
Since I want Courage to perform the Sacrifice.

_Enter one and dances an Entry, and a Jig at the end on't_.

_Lord_. Enough, enough at this time, let's see the Bride to bed, the
Bridegroom thinks it long.

_Friend_. Hell! Can I endure to hear all this with Patience?
Shall he depart with Life to enjoy my Right,
And to deprive my Sister of her due?
--Stay, stay, and resign
That Virgin.

_Bel_. Who art thou that dar'st lay a Claim to ought that's here?

_Friend_. This Sword shall answer ye.
[_Draws_.

_Bel_. Though I could spare my Life, I'll not be r