--Farewel, Sir--
May you be happy in the Maid you love.
[_Exit_ Cel.

_Bel_. O, dost thou mock my Griefs? by Heaven, he did.
--Stay, Sir, he's gone.

_Enter_ Charles Bellmour.

_Char_. The Rogue took Courage, when he saw there was no Remedy; but
there's no hurt done on either side.

_Lord_. '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.

[_Exeunt_.



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_.