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So strangely sweet and charming! Nur. Marry come up, you speak well for your self; Oh intolerable loving Creature! But here comes the utmost of your Wishes. Cel. My Brother, and Bellmour! with strange Men! Enter Friendlove, Bellmour, Sir Timothy, Sham, and Sharp. Friend. Sister, I've brought you here a Lover, this is the worthy Person you have heard of, Sir Timothy Tawdrey. Sir Tim.
The Jig introduced in Sir Timothy Tawdrey would seem to have been the simple dance although not improbably an epithalamium was also sung. p. 44 an Entry. A dance which derived its name from being performed at that point in a masque when new actors appeared. In Crowne's The Country Wit Act iii, I, there is a rather stupid play on this sense of the word confounded with its meaning 'a hall or lobby'.
Sir Timothy Tawdrey is by the wishes of his mother and the lady's father designed for Celinda, who loves Bellmour, nephew to Lord Plotwell. A coxcomb of the first water, Sir Timothy receives a sharp rebuff when he opens his suit, and accordingly he challenges Bellmour, but fails to appear at the place of meeting.
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?
Why, Lord, Sir, will you persuade me to that? Bel. I can endure no more; he marry fair Celinda! Friend. Sir Tim. To which he answer'd I have a good Fortune have but my Son Ned, and this Girl, call'd Celinda, whom I will make a Fortune, sutable to yours; your honoured Mother, the Lady Tawdrey, and I, have as good as concluded the Match already. Friend. Sir Tim. Oh, Sir, you compliment.
Yes, faith, Madam, I am Sir Timothy Tawdrey, at your Service Pray are not you Mrs. Celinda Dresswell? Cel. The same, but cannot return your Compliment. Sir Tim. Oh Lord, oh Lord, not return a Compliment. Faith, Ned, thy Sister's quite spoil'd, for want of Town-Education; 'tis pity, for she's devilish pretty. Friend.
Alas! now I must melt again, by Fortune thou art a Fool, dost think I wou'd have had her, but for her Fortune? which shall only serve to make thee out-flaunt all the Cracks in Town go go home and expect me, thou'lt have me all to thy self within this Day or two: Since Marriage but a larger Licence is For every Fop of Mode to keep a Miss. Spoken by Sir Timothy Tawdrey.
Bellmour, as I take it but Sir Timothy Tawdrey, that Spark of Men. Cel. Oh, name him not Let me not in one Moment Descend from Heaven to Hell How came that wretched thing into thy Noddle? Nur. Faith, Mistress, I took pity of thee, I saw you so elevated with Thoughts of Mr. Bellmour, I found it necessary to take you down a degree lower. Cel. Why did not Heaven make all Men like lo Bellmour?
Tawdrey But thou look'st as if thou hadst not been a-bed yet. Bel. No more I have. Sir Tim. Bel. Thou art mistaken, I hate all Woman-kind Sir Tim. How, how! Bel, Above an Hour hark ye, Knight I am as leud, and as debaucht as thou art. Sir Tim. What do you mean, Frank? Bel. To tell a Truth, which yet I never did.
After presiding over the monastery six or seven years, she died of a tumour in her throat, which she used to say was sent as a punishment for her excessive love of wearing necklaces in her youth. Hence the "tawdrey lace" of "The Winter's Tale" and elsewhere, which was a necklace bought at S. Awdrey's Fair, held on the day of her festival, October 17th.
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