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How, Sir, not to Church, the chiefest Recreation of a City Lady? Sir Feeb. That's all one, Madam, that tricking and dressing, and prinking and patching, is not your Devotion to Heaven, but to the young Knaves that are lick'd and comb'd and are minding you more than the Parson ods bobs, there are more Cuckolds destin'd in the Church, than are made out of it. Sir Cau. Bel.
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. Come, sit, good Brother, and to the business as you say 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.
But it's a Bargain? Gay. Done Sir Feeble shall be witness and there stands my Hat. Sir Cau. He that comes first to One and thirty wins L. Ful. What are you playing for? Sir Feeb. Nothing, nothing but a Trial of Skill between an old Man and a Young and your Ladyship is to be Judge. L. Ful. I shall be partial, Sir. Sir Cau. Gay. Cater Tray Pox of the Dice Sir Cau. Gay.
I know the law, and I knew he had no right to lick me with a strap halter. That was being cruel, and the guardianship papers said he mustn't be cruel. I didn't say anything. I just waited, which shows you what kind of a feeb I am. I waited a long time, and got slower, and made more foolish noises; but he wouldn't, send me back to the Home, which was what I wanted.
Ah, Fool, old dull besotted Fool to think she'd love me 'twas by base means I gain'd her cozen'd an honest Gentleman of Fame and Life L. Ful. You did so, Sir, but 'tis not past Redress you may make that honest Gentleman amends. Sir Feeb. Oh, wou'd I could, so I gave half my Estate L. Ful. That Penitence atones with him and Heaven. Come forth, Leticia, and your injur'd Ghost.
'Tis so, I'll go and commit the Theft, whilst you prepare to carry it, and then we'll to dinner with your Sister the Bride. SCENE III. The House of Sir Feeble. Enter Sir Feeble, Leticia, Sir Cautious, Bearjest, Diana, Noisey. Sir Feeble sings and salutes 'em. Sir Feeb. Bear. Methinks my Lady Bride is very melancholy. Sir Cau. Ay, ay, Women that are discreet, are always thus upon their Wedding-day.
Ay, I learnt it of a great Politician of our Times. Bel. But have you got his Pardon? Sir Feeb. Bel. Sir Feeb. So, put it into my Cabinet, safe, Francis, safe. Bel. Safe, I'll warrant you, Sir. Sir Feeb. Bel. He's gone, quickly, oh Love inspire me! Enter a Footman. Foot. Bel. Hah the Bridegroom has it, Sir, who is just gone to Bed, it shall be sent him in the Morning. Foot. Bel.
Ay, 'tis he, and I'm undone what shall I do to kill him now? besides, the Sin wou'd put me past all Hopes of pardoning. Sir Feeb. A damn'd Rogue to deceive me thus. Bel. Hah see, by Heaven Leticia, Oh, we are ruin'd! Sir Feeb. Enter Leticia and Phillis softly, undrest, with a Box. Let. Where are you, my best Wishes? Lord of my Vows and Charmer of my Soul? Where are you? Bel. Sir Feeb.
Here, Ralph, the Bottle, Rogue, of Sack, ye Rascal; hadst thou been a Butler worth hanging, thou wou'dst have met us at the door with it. Ods bods, Sweet-heart, thy health. Bear. Away with it, to the Bride's Haunce in Kelder. Sir Feeb. Let. I die but to imagine it, wou'd I were dead indeed. Sir Feeb. Hah hum how's this? Tears upon the Wedding day? Sir Cau.
See, fair Seducer, what thou'st made me do; Look on this bleeding Wound, it reach'd my Heart, To pluck my dear tormenting Image thence, When News arriv'd that thou hadst broke thy Vow. Sir Feeb. Oh Lord! oh! I'm glad he's dead though. Let. Sir Feeb. So, she'll clear her self, and leave me in the Devil's Clutches. Bel. You've both offended Heaven, and must repent or die. Sir Feeb.
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