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During his absence Sir Feeble Fainwou'd, a doting old alderman and his rival, having procured his pardon from the King to prevent it being granted if applied for a second time, and keeping this stratagem secret, next forges a letter as if from the Hague which describes in detail Bellmour's execution for killing a toper during a tavern brawl.
'Tis fit such as he shou'd be chastis'd, that do abuse Hospitality. Come, come, to Bed; the Lady, Sir, expects you. Bel. Gentlemen, good Night. SCENE II. A Bed Chamber. Enter Diana. Dia. I long to know the Cause of Bellmour's Disorder to Night, and here he comes. Enter Bellmour, Lord, Charles, and the rest. Char. Shan't we see you laid, Brother? Bel.
Let. 'Tis Bellmour's Voice! Bel. Oh, Sir, do you know this Watch? Sir Feeb. This Watch! Bel. Ay, Sir, this Watch? Sir Feeb. This Watch! why, prithee, why dost tell me of a Watch? Bel. 'Tis indeed his Watch, Sir, and by this Token he has sent for you, to come immediately to his House, Sir. Sir Feeb. Bel. To morrow, Sir! why all our Throats may be cut before to morrow. Sir Feeb.
I find Diana knows me not; and this Year's absence, since I first made my Addresses to her, has alter'd me much, or she has lost the remembrance of a Man, whom she ever disesteem'd till in this lucky Dress: the price of her Favour is Bellmour's Life.
Stay, Sir, e'er I part with more Money, I'll be certain what returns 'twill make me that is, I'll see the Wench, not to inform my self, how well I like her, for that I shall do, because she is new, and Bellmour's Sister but to find what possibility there is in gaining her.
Hither they are tracked by Charles, Bellmour's younger brother, and Trusty, Lord Plotwell's old steward. Sharp words pass, the brothers fight and Charles is slighted wounded.
Bea. Let the Captain and I alone to top upon him mean time, Sir, I have brought my Musick, to entertain my Mistress with a Song. Sir Feeb. Take your own methods, Sir they are at leisure while we go drink their Healths within. Adod, I long for night, we are not half in kelter, this damn'd Ghost will not out of my Head yet. Bel. Hah a Ghost! what can he mean? A Ghost, and Bellmour's!
And doubly blest be all the Powers of Love, That give me this dear Opportunity. Let. Where were you, all ye pitying Gods of Love? That once seem'd pleas'd at Bellmour's Flame and mine, And smiling join'd our Hearts, our sacred Vows, And spread your Wings, and held your Torches high. Bel. Let. Where were you now?
Faith, Sir, you have it, and there you may have an Opportunity to court Bellmour's Sister. Sir Tim. 'Tis a good Motion, and we will follow it; send to the Duke's House, and borrow some Habits presently. Sham. I'll about it, Sir. Sir Tim.
But what dost think I did? being damnably in love I feign'd a Letter as from the Hague, wherein was a Relation of this same Bellmour's being hang'd. Bel. Is't possible, Sir, you cou'd devise such News? Sir Feeb. Possible, Man!
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