_Trusty_. Mr. _Charles_, your Brother, my young Master _Bellmour_,
is come.

_Char_. I'm glad on't; my Uncle began to be impatient that he came not,
you saying you left him but a day's Journey behind you yesterday. My
Uncle has something of importance to say to him, I fancy it may be about
A Marriage between him and my Lady _Diana_--such a Whisper I heard--

_Trusty_. Ay, marry, Sir, that were a Match indeed, she being your
Uncle's only Heir.

_Char_. Ay, but they are Sisters Children, and too near a-kin to
be happy.

_Trusty_. 'Twere pity my young Master shou'd be unhappy in a Wife; for
he is the sweetest-natur'd Gentleman--But one Comfort is, Mr. _Charles_,
you, and your Sister Mrs. _Phillis_, will have your Portions assign'd
you if he marry.

_Char_. Yes, that he can't deny us the very Day after his Marriage.

_Trusty_. I shall be glad to see you all dispos'd of well; but I was
half afraid, your Brother would have married Mrs. _Celinda Friendlove_,
to whom he made notable Love in _Yorkshire_ I thought: not but she's a
fine Lady; but her Fortune is below that of my young Master's, as much
as my Lady _Diana's_ is above his--But see, they come; let us retire,
to give 'em leave to talk alone.

[_Exeunt_.