_Lab_. E’en by miracle, Sir; by being drunk, and falling asleep under the Hall-Table with your Worship’s Dog Tory, till just now a Dream of Small-beer wak’d me: and crawling from my Kennel to secure the black Jack, I stumbled upon this Lanthorn, which I took for one, till I found a Candle in’t, which helps me to serve your Worship. [_Goes to unbind his Hands_. Sir _Tim_. Hold, hold, I say; for I scorn to be so uncivil to be unbound before his Lordship: therefore run, Friend, to his Honour’s Chamber, for he, alas, is confined too. _Lab_. What, and leave his worthy Friend in distress? by no means, Sir. Sir _Tim_. Well then, come, let’s to my Lord, whom if I be not asham’d to look in the Face, I am an errant Sarazen. [_Exit Sir_ Tim. _and_ Lab. SCENE II. _Changes to_ Wilding’s _Chamber_. _He is discovered sitting in a Chair bound, his Valet bound by him; to them Sir_ Timothy _and_ Laboir. _Wild_. Peace, Sirrah, for sure I hear some coming--Villains, Rogues! I care not for my self, but for the good pious Alderman. [_Sir_ Tim. _as listening_. Sir _Tim_. Wonderful Goodness, for me! Alas, my Lord, this sight will break my Heart. [_Weeps_. _Wild_. Sir _Timothy_ safe! nay, then I do forgive ‘em. Sir _Tim_. Alas, my Lord, I’ve heard of your rigid Fate. _Wild_. It is my Custom, Sir, to pray an Hour or two in my Chamber, before I go to Bed; and having pray’d that drousy Slave asleep, the Thieves broke in upon us unawares, I having laid my Sword aside. Sir _Tim_. Oh, Heavens, at his Prayers! damn’d Ruffians, and wou’d they not stay till you had said your Prayers? _Wild_. By no Persuasion--Can you not guess who they shou’d be, Sir? Sir _Tim_. Oh, some damn’d Tory-rory Rogues, you may be sure, to rob a Man at his Prayers! why, what will this World come to? _Wild_. Let us not talk, Sir, but pursue ‘em. [_Offering to go_. Sir _Tim_. Pursue ‘em! alas, they’re past our reach by this time. _Wild_. Oh, Sir, they are nearer than you imagine: some that know each Corner of your House, I’ll warrant. Sir _Tim_. Think ye so, my Lord? ay, this comes of keeping open House; which makes so many shut up their Doors at Dinner-time. _Enter_ Dresswell. _Dres_. Good Morrow, Gentlemen! what, was the Devil broke loose to night? Sir _Tim_. Only some of his Imps, Sir, saucy Varlets, insupportable Rascals--But well, my Lord, now I have seen your Lordship at liberty, I’ll leave you to your rest, and go see what Harm this night’s Work has done. _Wild_. I have a little Business, Sir, and will take this time to dispatch it in; my Servants shall to Bed, though ‘tis already day--I’ll wait on you at Dinner. Sir _Tim_. Your time; my House and all I have is yours; and so I take my Leave of your Lordship. [_Ex. Sir_ Tim.