SCENE III. _A Street_.


_Enter_ Celinda, _drest as before_.

_Cel_. Not one kind Wound to send me to my Grave,
And yet between their angry Swords I ran,
Expecting it from _Bellmour_, or my Brother's:
Oh, my hard Fate! that gave me so much Misery,
And dealt no Courage to prevent the shock.
--Why came I off alive, that fatal Place
Where I beheld my _Bellmour_, in th'embrace
Of my extremely fair, and lovely Rival?
--With what kind Care she did prevent my Arm,
Which (greedy of the last sad-parting twine)
I wou'd have thrown about him, as if she knew
To what intent I made the passionate Offer?
--What have I next to do, but seek a Death
Wherever I can meet it--Who comes here? [_Goes aside_.

_Enter Sir_ Timothy, Sham _and_ Sharp, _with Fidlers and Boy_.

Sir _Tim_. I believe this is the Bed-chamber Window where the Bride
and Bridegroom lies.

_Sham_. Well, and what do you intend to do, if it be, Sir?

Sir _Tim_. Why, first sing a Baudy Song, and then break the Windows,
in revenge for the Affront was put upon me to night.