Sir _Cau_. So, I’ll be hang’d if he do not tell me, I’m a Cuckold now: I see it in his Eyes. My Ear, Sir! I’d have you to know I scorn any man’s secrets, Sir;--for ought I know you may whisper Treason to me, Sir. Pox on him, how handsom he is, I hate the sight of the young Stallion. [_Aside_. _Gay_. I wou’d not be so uncivil, Sir, before all this Company. Sir _Cau_. Uncivil! Ay, ay, ‘tis so, he cannot be content to cuckold, but he must tell me so too. _Gay_. But since you will have it, Sir--you are--a Rascal--a most notorious Villain, Sir, d’ye hear-- Sir _Cau_. Yes, yes, I do hear--and am glad ‘tis no worse. [_Laughing_. _Gay_. Griping as Hell--and as insatiable--worse than a Brokering Jew, not all the Twelve Tribes harbour such a damn’d Extortioner. Sir _Cau_. Pray, under favour, Sir, who are you? [_Pulling off his Hat_. _Gay_. One whom thou hast undone-- Sir _Cau_. Hum--I’m glad of that however. [_Aside smiling_. _Gay_. Racking me up to a starving Want and Misery, Then took advantages to ruin me. Sir _Cau_. So, and he’d revenge it on my Wife-- [_Aside smiling_. _Gay_. Do not you know one _Wasteall_, Sir? _Enter_ Ralph _with Wine, sets it on a Table_. Sir _Cau_. _Wasteall_--ha, ha, ha,--if you are any Friend to that poor Fellow--you may return and tell him, Sir--d’ye hear--that the Mortgage of two hundred pound a Year is this day out, and I’ll not bait him an hour, Sir--ha, ha, ha,--what, do you think to hector civil Magistrates? _Gay_. Very well, Sir, and is this your Conscience? Sir _Cau_. Conscience! what do you tell me of Conscience? Why, what a noise is here--as if the undoing a young Heir were such a Wonder; ods so I’ve undone a hundred without, half this ado. _Gay_. I do believe thee--and am come to tell you--I’ll be none of that Number--for this Minute I’ll go and redeem it--and free myself from the Hell of your Indentures. Sir _Cau_. How, redeem it! sure the Devil must help him then.--Stay, Sir--stay--Lord, Sir, what need you put your self to that trouble? your Land is in safe hands, Sir; come, come, sit down--and let us take a Glass of Wine together, Sir-- _Bel_. Sir, my service to you. [_Drinks to him_. _Gay_. Your Servant, Sir. Wou’d I cou’d come to speak to _Bellmour_, which I dare not do in publick, lest I betray him. I long to be resolv’d where ‘twas Sir _Feeble_ was last night--if it were he--by which I might find out my invisible Mistress. _Noi_. Noble Mr. _Wasteall_-- [_Salutes him, so does_ Bearjest. _Bel_. Will you please to sit, Sir? _Gay_. I have a little business, Sir--but anon I’ll wait on you--your Servant, Gentlemen--I’ll to _Crap_ the Scrivener’s. [_Goes out_. Sir _Cau_. Do you know this _Wasteall_, Sir?-- [_To_ Noisey. _Noi_. Know him, Sir! ay, too well--