Lord. And you, Frank, will you marry my Niece Diana?
Bel. Since you will have it so.
Lord. Come, follow me then, and you shall be both pleas’d.
Bel. Oh my Celinda!—
To preserve thee, what is’t I wou’d not do? Forfeit my Heaven, nay more, I forfeit you.
[Exit.
SCENE V. The Street.
Enter Sir Timothy Tawdrey, Sham and Sharp.
Sir Tim. Now, Sham, art not thou a damn’d lying Rogue, to make me saunter up and down the Mall all this Morning, after a Woman that thou know’st in thy Conscience was not likely to be there?
Sham. Why, Sir—if her Maid will be a jilting Whore, how can I help it?—Sharp, thou know’st we presented her handsomly, and she protested she’d do’t.