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Nay, start not, he's my own Flesh and Blood, My Nephew Baby look, look how the young Rogues stare at one another; like will to like, I see that. Let. There's something in his Face so like my Bellmour, it calls my Blushes up, and leaves my Heart defenceless. Enter Ralph. Ralph. Sir Feeb.
Enter Gayman like a Ghost, with a Torch. Sir Cau. Oh Lord, oh Lord! Gay. Sir Feeb. Gay. Thou call'st in vain, fond Wretch for I am Bellmour, Whom first thou robb'st of Fame and Life, And then what dearer was, his Wife. Sir Cau. Oh Lord oh Lord! Enter L. Fulbank in an undress, and Pert undrest. L. Ful. Heavens, what noise is this? Sir Feeb. Stay, Madam, stay 'tis I, a poor trembling Mortal.
So, that young Gentleman has nettled him, stung him to the quick: I hope he'll chain her up the Gad-Bee's in his Quonundrum in Charity I'll relieve him Come, my Lady Fulbank, the Night grows old upon our hands; to dancing, to jiggiting Come, shall I lead your Ladyship? L. Ful. Sir Cau. Ay, no doubt on't, a Pox on him for a young handsome Dog. Sir Feeb.
Indeed, Sir, the wiser she. Sir Cau. For only performing my Promise to this Gentleman. Sir Feeb. Ay, you showed her the Difference, Sir; you're a wise man. Come, dry your Eyes and rest your self contented, we are a couple of old Coxcombs; d'ye Hear, Sir, Coxcombs. Sir Cau. Gay. I thank you, Sir do you consent, my Julia? L. Ful.
A wise discreet Lady, I'll warrant her; my Lady would prodigally have took it off all. Sir Feeb. Dear's its nown dear Fubs; buss again, buss again, away, away ods bobs, I long for Night look, look, Sir Cautious, what an Eye's there! Sir Cau. Ay, so there is, Brother, and a modest Eye too. Sir Feeb. Adad, I love her more and more, Ralph call old Susan hither come, Mr. Bearjest, put the Glass about.
Sir Feeb. Always by day-light, Sir Cautious. But when bright Phoebus does retire, To Thetis' Bed to quench his fire. And do the thing we need not name, We Mortals by his influence do the same. Then then the blushing Maid lays by Her simpering, and her Modesty; And round the Lover clasps and twines Like Ivy, or the circling Vines. Sir Feeb.
Go home and sleep, Sir Ad, and ye keep your Wife waking to so little purpose, you'll go near to be haunted with a Vision of Horns. Sir Feeb. Enter Bredwel to the Door in a white Sheet like a Ghost, speaking to Gayman who stands within. Bred.
Sir Cau. My Business, with whom? Sir Feeb. With me, Sir, with me; what a Pox do you think I do here? Sir Cau. 'Tis that I wou'd be glad to know, Sir. Enter Dick. Sir Feeb. Here, Dick, remember I've brought back your Master's Watch; next time he sends for me o'er Night, I'll come to him in the Morning. Sir Cau. Ha, ha, ha, I send for you!
A prudent Man would reserve himself Good-facks, I danc'd so on my Wedding-day, that when I came to Bed, to my Shame be it spoken, I fell fast asleep, and slept till morning. L. Ful. Where was your Wisdom then, Sir Cautious? But I know what a wise Woman ought to have done. Sir Feeb.
Faith, Sir, this was very cruel, to take away his Fame, and then his Mistress. Sir Feeb. Cruel! thou'rt an Ass, we are but even with the brisk Rogues, for they take away our Fame, cuckold us, and take away our Wives: so, so, my Cap, Francis. Bel. And do you think this Marriage lawful, Sir? Sir Feeb.
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