Bel.  Will you please to sit, Sir?

Gay.  I have a little business, Sir—­but anon I’ll wait on you—­your
Servant, Gentlemen—­I’ll to Crap the Scrivener’s.
                                            [Goes out.

Sir Cau.  Do you know this Wasteall, Sir?—­ [To Noisey.

Noi.  Know him, Sir! ay, too well—­

Bea.  The World’s well amended with him, Captain, since I lost my Money to him and you at the George in White-Fryers.

Noi.  Ay, poor Fellow—­he’s sometimes up, and sometimes down, as the Dice favour him—­

Bea.  Faith, and that’s pity; but how came he so fine o’th’ sudden?  ’Twas but last week he borrowed eighteen pence of me on his Waste-Belt to pay his Dinner in an Ordinary.

Bel.  Were you so cruel, Sir, to take it?

Noi.  We are not all one Man’s Children; faith, Sir, we are here to Day, and gone to Morrow—­

Sir Cau.  I say ’twas done like a wise Man, Sir; but under favour, Gentlemen, this Wasteall is a Rascal—­

Noi.  A very Rascal, Sir, and a most dangerous Fellow—­he cullies in your Prentices and Cashiers to play—­which ruins so many o’th’ young Fry i’th’ City—­

Sir Cau.  Hum—­does he so—­d’ye hear that, Edward?

Noi.  Then he keeps a private Press, and prints your Amsterdam and Leyden Libels.

Sir Cau.  Ay, and makes ’em too, I’ll warrant him; a dangerous Fellow—­

Noi.  Sometimes he begs for a lame Soldier with a wooden Leg.

Bea.  Sometimes as a blind Man, sells Switches in New-Market Road.

Noi.  At other times he runs the Country like a Gipsey—­tells Fortunes and robs Hedges, when he’s out of Linen.

Sir Cau.  Tells Fortunes too!—­nay, I thought he dealt with the Devil —­Well, Gentlemen, you are all wide o’ this Matter—­for to tell you the Truth—­he deals with the Devil, Gentlemen —­otherwise he could never have redeem’d his Land. [Aside.

Bel.  How, Sir, the Devil!

Sir Cau.  I say the Devil; Heaven bless every wise Man from the Devil.

Bea.  The Devil, sha! there’s no such Animal in Nature; I rather think he pads.

Noi.  Oh, Sir, he has not Courage for that—­but he’s an admirable Fellow at your Lock.

Sir Cau.  Lock!  My Study-Lock was pickt—­I begin to suspect him—­

Bea.  I saw him once open a Lock with the Bone of a Breast of Mutton, and break an Iron Bar asunder with the Eye of a Needle.

Sir Cau.  Prodigious!—­well, I say the Devil still.

    Enter Sir Feeble.

Sir Feeb.  Who’s this talks of the Devil?—­a Pox of the Devil, I say, this last night’s Devil has so haunted me—­