_Bred_. Sure my Lady’s Frolick is betray’d, and he comes to make Mischief. However, I’ll go and secure Mr. _Gayman_. [_Exit_ Bredwel. _Enter Sir_ Cautious _and_ Dick _his Boy with Light_. _Dick_. Pray, Sir, go to Bed, here’s no Thieves; all’s still and well. Sir _Cau_. This last Night’s misfortune of mine, _Dick_, has kept me waking, and methought all night, I heard a kind of a silent Noise. 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_! 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_. Some strange Catastrophe has happened between him and his Wife to Night, and makes him disturb me thus-- [_Aside_. --Come, sit, good Brother, and to the business as you say-- [_They sit one at one end of the Table, the other at the other; _Dick_ sets down the Light and goes out--both sit gaping and staring, and expecting when either should speak_. 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_. As brief as you please, Sir--Well, Brother-- [_Pausing still_. Sir _Feeb_. So, Sir. Sir _Cau_. How strangely he stares and gapes--some deep concern. Sir _Feeb_. Hum--hum-- Sir _Cau_. I listen to you, advance-- Sir _Feeb_. Sir? Sir _Cau_. A very distracted Countenance--pray Heaven he be not mad, and a young Wife is able to make an old Fellow mad, that’s the Truth on’t. [_Aside_. Sir _Feeb_. Sure ‘tis something of his Lady--he’s so loth to bring it out --I am sorry you are thus disturb’d, Sir. Sir _Cau_. No disturbance to serve a Friend-- Sir _Feeb_. I think I am your Friend indeed, Sir _Cautious_, or I wou’d not have been here upon my Wedding-Night. Sir _Cau_. His Wedding-Night--there lies his Grief, poor Heart! Perhaps she has cuckolded him already-- [_Aside_. --Well, come, Brother--many such things are done-- Sir _Feeb_. Done--hum--come, out with it; Brother--what troubles you to Night? Sir _Cau_. Troubles me--why, knows he I am robb’d? [_Aside_. Sir _Feeb_. I may perhaps restore you to the Rest you’ve lost. Sir _Cau_. The Rest; why, have I lost more since? Why, know you then who did it?--Oh, how I’d be reveng’d upon the Rascal! Sir _Feeb_. ‘Tis--Jealousy, the old Worm that bites-- [_Aside_. Who is it you suspect? Sir _Cau_. Alas, I know not whom to suspect, I wou’d I did; but if you cou’d discover him--I wou’d so swinge him--