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We didn't die, and next morning we went right back the way we'd come. And little Albert got awful heavy. Doctor Wilson was mad as could be, and said I was the worst feeb in the institution, along with Joe and Charley. But Miss Striker, who was a nurse in the drooling ward then, just put her arms around me and cried, she was that happy I'd got back. I thought right there that mebbe I'd marry her.
Well, Sir, remember you have promised to grant me my diabolical Request, in shewing me the Devil Gay. I will not fail you, Sir. L. Ful. Madam, your Servant; I hope you'll see no more Ghosts, Sir Feeble. Sir Feeb. Enter Diana, puts on her Hood and Scarf. Dia. So they are gone to Bed; and now for Bredwel the Coach waits, and I'll take this opportunity.
Politics drove him out, and Doctor Mandeville came. He didn't have a wife. I heard him talking one time with the engineer. The engineer and his wife fought like cats and dogs, and that day Doctor Mandeville told him he was damn glad he wasn't tied to no petticoats. A petticoat is a skirt. I knew what he meant, if I was a feeb. But I never let on. You hear lots when you don't let on.
Sir Feeb. Let. Oh Bellmour, Bellmour. Sir Feeb. Hum what's that Bellmour! Let. Hah! Sir Feeble! he would not, Sir, have us'd me thus unkindly. Sir Feeb. Oh I'm glad 'tis no worse Bellmour, quoth a! I thought the Ghost was come again. Phil. Why did you not speak, Sir, all this while? my Lady weeps with your Unkindness. Sir Feeb.
Let me see here is the Watch, I took it up to keep for him but his sending has inspir'd me with a sudden Stratagem, that will do better than Force, to secure the poor trembling Leticia who, I am sure, is dying with her Fears. Enter to them Sir Feeble Fainwou'd. Sir Feeb. What's here? what's here? the prating Women still. Ods bobs, what, not in Bed yet? for shame of Love, Leticia. Let.
Very well, very well, now the Posset; and then ods bobs, and then Dia. And then we'll have t'other Dance. Sir Feeb.
I desire not to be favour'd as a Kinsman, Sir, but as your humblest Servant. Sir Feeb. Why, thou'rt an honest Fellow, Francis, and thou'rt heartily welcome and I'll make thee fortunate. But come, Sir Cautious, let you and I take a turn i'th' Garden, and get a right understanding between your Nephew Mr. Bearjest, and my Daughter Dye. Sir Cau. Prudently thought on, Sir, I'll wait on you.
Now, Luck Doublets of sixes nineteen. Sir Cau. Sir Feeb. Now if he wins it, I'll swear he has a Fly indeed 'tis impossible without Doublets of sixes Sir Cau. L. Ful. How now? what's the matter you look so like an Ass, what have you lost? Sir Cau. A Bauble a Bauble 'tis not for what I've lost but because I have not won Sir Feeb. You look very simple, Sir what think you of Cato now? Sir Cau.
Hum adod, and that may be, for the young Knave when he let me in to Night, was drest up for some Waggery Sir Cau. Ha, ha, ha, 'twas even so, sure enough, Brother Sir Feeb. Ads bobs, but they frighted me at first basely but I'll home to Pupsey, there may be Roguery, as well as here Madam, I ask your Pardon, I see we're all mistaken. L. Ful. Ay, Sir Feeble, go home to your Wife.
Sir Feeb. Ay, or a Ghost. Bel. Where, good Sir? Bea. Ay, where? I'd travel a hundred Mile to see a Ghost Bel. Sure, Sir, 'twas Fancy. Sir Feeb. If 'twere a Fancy, 'twas a strong one; and Ghosts and Fancy are all one if they can deceive. I tell you if ever I thought in my Life I thought I saw a Ghost Ay, and a damnable impudent Ghost too; he said he was a a Fellow here they call Bellmour. Bel.
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