Sharp. Well, your News.
Page. News, Sir? I know of none, but of my Master’s being this Morning—
Sir Tim. Ay, there it is—behind Southampton House.
Page. Married this Morning.
Sir Tim. How! Married! ‘Slife, has he serv’d me so?
Sham. The Boy is drunk—Bellmour married!
Page. Yes, indeed, to the Lady Diana.
Sir Tim. Diana! Mad, by Fortune; what Diana?
Page. Niece to the Lord Plotwell.
Sir Tim. Come hither, Boy—Art thou sure of this?