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Updated: April 30, 2025
Enter Bea. with Dancers; all go out but Sir Cautious. Sir Cau. Well, I must break my Mind, if possible, to my Lady but if she shou'd be refractory now and make me pay Three hundred Pounds why, sure she won't have so little Grace Three hundred Pounds sav'd, is three hundred pounds got by our account Cou'd All
Sir Feeb. But wou'd a wise man expose his Wife? Sir Cau. Why, Cato was a wiser Man than I, and he lent his Wife to a young Fellow they call'd Hortensius, as Story says; and can a wise Man have a better Precedent than Cato? Sir Feeb. I say, Cato was an Ass, Sir, for obliging any young Rogue of 'em all. Sir Cau. But I am of Cato's mind. Well, a single Night you say. Gay.
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.
'Twas thus he said. Sir Cau. Let who's will say it, he lies in's Throat. Sir Feeb. L. Ful. What bleeding Wound? Heavens, are you frantick, Sir? Sir Feeb. Sir Cau. Sir Feeb. But let her go, so I may never see that dreadful Vision harkye, Sir a word in your Ear have a care of marrying a young Wife. Sir Cau. Sir Feeb. Hast thou?
Of what! why, that you're a Cuckold; Sir, a Cuckold, if you'll ha't. Sir Cau. Cuckold! Sir, do ye know what ye say? Sir Feeb. What I say? Sir Cau. Ay, what you say, can you make this out? Sir Feeb. I make it out! Sir Cau. Ay, Sir if you say it, and cannot make it out, you're a Sir Feeb. What am I, Sir? What am I? Sir Cau.
Madam, a Gentleman and a Lady below in a Coach knockt me up, and say they must speak with your Ladyship. L. Ful. Who can it be, at this odd time of neither Night nor Day? Enter Leticia, Bellmour, and Phillis. Let. Sir Cau. So, here's another sad Catastrophe! L. Ful. Hah does Bellmour live? is't possible? Believe me, Sir, you ever had my Wishes; And shall not fail of my Protection now. Bel.
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!
A single Night to have to hold possess and so forth, at discretion. Sir Cau. A Night I shall have her safe and sound i'th' Morning. Sir Feeb. Safe, no doubt on't but how sound. Gay. And for Non-performance, you shall pay me three hundred Pounds, I'll forfeit as much if I tell Sir Cau. Tell? why, make your three hundred pounds six hundred, and let it be put into the Gazet, if you will, Man.
He went at once to the sofa and took out the trap. A neat little mouse, the size of a thimble, was sniffing the wires and trembling with fear. "Aha," muttered Pyotr Demyanitch, and he looked at the mouse malignantly, as though he were about to give him a bad mark. "You are cau aught, wretch! Wait a bit! I'll teach you to eat my grammar!"
Ay, but he could never do it fairly, that's certain. Three hundred Pound! why, how came you to win so unmercifully, Sir? Gay. Oh, the Devil will not lose a Gamester of me, you see, Sir. Sir Cau. The Devil! mark that, Gentlemen Bea. The Rogue has damn'd luck sure, he has got a Fly Sir Cau. And can you have the Conscience to carry away all our Money, Sir? Gay.
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