Bel. Bredwel—I have heard of her,—she was Mistress—
Ral. To fine Mr. Bellmour, Sir,—ay, there was a Gentleman —But rest his Soul—he’s hang’d, Sir. [Weeps.
Bel. How! hang’d?
Ral. Hang’d, Sir, hang’d—at the Hague in Holland.
Gay. I heard some such News, but did not credit it.
Bel. For what, said they, was he hang’d?
Ral. Why, e’en for High Treason, Sir, he killed one of their Kings.
Gay. Holland’s a Commonwealth, and is not rul’d by Kings.
Ral. Not by one, Sir, but by a great many; this was a Cheesemonger —they fell out over a Bottle of Brandy, went to Snicker Snee; Mr. Bellmour cut his Throat, and was hang’d for’t, that’s all, Sir.
Bel. And did the young Lady believe this?