Sir Feeb.  Call him, call him—­quickly, good Edward.

Bred.  Sure my Lady’s Frolick is betray’d, and he comes to make
Mischief.  However, I’ll go and secure Mr. Gayman.
                                              [Exit Bredwel.

Enter Sir Cautious and Dick his Boy with Light.

Dick.  Pray, Sir, go to Bed, here’s no Thieves; all’s still and well.

Sir Cau.  This last Night’s misfortune of mine, Dick, has kept me waking, and methought all night, I heard a kind of a silent Noise.  I am still afraid of Thieves; mercy upon me, to lose five hundred Guineas at one clap, Dick.—­Hah—­bless me! what’s yonder?  Blow the great Horn, Dick—­Thieves—­Murder, Murder!

Sir Feeb.  Why, what a Pox, are you mad?  ’Tis I, ’tis I, man.

Sir Cau.  I, who am I?  Speak—­declare—­pronounce.

Sir Feeb.  Your Friend, old Feeble Fainwou’d.

Sir Cau.  How, Sir Feeble!  At this late hour, and on his Wedding-Night —­why, what’s the matter, Sir—­is it Peace or War with you?

Sir Feeb.  A Mistake, a Mistake, proceed to the business, good Brother, for time you know is precious.

Sir Cau.  Some strange Catastrophe has happened between him and his Wife to Night, and makes him disturb me thus—­ [Aside.  —­Come, sit, good Brother, and to the business as you say—­

[They sit one at one end of the Table, the other at the other;
Dick_ sets down the Light and goes out—­both sit gaping and
staring, and expecting when either should speak_.

Sir Feeb.  As soon as you please, Sir. 
Lord, how wildly he stares!  He’s much disturb’d in’s mind
—­Well, Sir, let us be brief—­

Sir Cau.  As brief as you please, Sir—­Well, Brother—­
                                               [Pausing still.

Sir Feeb.  So, Sir.

Sir Cau.  How strangely he stares and gapes—­some deep concern.

Sir Feeb.  Hum—­hum—­

Sir Cau.  I listen to you, advance—­

Sir Feeb.  Sir?

Sir Cau.  A very distracted Countenance—­pray Heaven he be not mad, and a young Wife is able to make an old Fellow mad, that’s the Truth on’t. [Aside.

Sir Feeb.  Sure ’tis something of his Lady—­he’s so loth to bring it out
—­I am sorry you are thus disturb’d, Sir.

Sir Cau.  No disturbance to serve a Friend—­

Sir Feeb.  I think I am your Friend indeed, Sir Cautious, or I wou’d not have been here upon my Wedding-Night.

Sir Cau.  His Wedding-Night—­there lies his Grief, poor Heart!  Perhaps she has cuckolded him already—­ [Aside.  —­Well, come, Brother—­many such things are done—­