Sir _Cau_. He can show him too soon, it may be. I’m sure as civil as he is, he helps him to steal my Gold, I doubt--and to be sure--Gentlemen, you say he’s a Gamester--I desire when he comes anon, that you wou’d propose to sport a Dye, or so--and we’ll fall to play for a Teaster, or the like--and if he sets any money, I shall go near to know my own Gold, by some remarkable Pieces amongst it; and if he have it, I’ll hang him, and then all his six hundred a Year will be my own, which I have in Mortgage. _Bea_. Let the Captain and I alone to top upon him--mean time, Sir, I have brought my Musick, to entertain my Mistress with a Song. Sir _Feeb_. Take your own methods, Sir--they are at leisure--while we go drink their Healths within. Adod, I long for night, we are not half in kelter, this damn’d Ghost will not out of my Head yet. [_Exeunt all but_ Bellmour. _Bel_. Hah--a Ghost! what can he mean? A Ghost, and _Bellmour’s_! --Sure my good Angel, or my Genius, In pity of my Love, and of _Leticia_-- But see _Leticia_ comes, but still attended-- _Enter_ Leticia, _Lady_ Fulbank, Diana. --Remember--oh, remember to be true? [Aside to her, passing by goes out. L. _Ful_. I was sick to know with what Christian Patience you bore the Martyrdom of this Night. _Let_. As those condemn’d bear the last Hour of Life. A short Reprieve I had--and by a kind Mistake, _Diana_ only was my Bedfellow-- [_Weeps_. _Dia_. And I wish for your Repose you ne’er had seen my Father. [_Weeps_. _Let_. And so do I, I fear he has undone me-- _Dia_. And me, in breaking of his word with _Bredwel_-- L. _Ful_.--So--as _Trincolo_ says, wou’d you were both hang’d for me, for putting me in mind of my Husband. For I have e’en no better luck than either of you--Let our two Fates warn your approaching one: I love young _Bredwel_ and must plead for him. _Dia_. I know his Virtue justifies my Choice: But Pride and Modesty forbids I shou’d unlov’d pursue him. _Let_. Wrong not my Brother so, who dies for you-- _Dia_. Cou’d he so easily see me given away, Without a Sigh at parting? For all the day a Calm was in his Eyes, And unconcern’d he look’d and talk’d to me; In dancing never prest my willing Hand, Nor with a scornful Glance reproach’d my Falshood. _Let_. Believe me, that Dissembling was his Master-piece. _Dia_. Why should he fear, did not my Father promise him? _Let_. Ay, that was in his wooing time to me: But now ‘tis all forgotten-- [_Musick at the door_. _After which enter_ Bearjest _and_ Bredwel. L. _Ful_. How now, Cousin! Is this high piece of Gallantry from you? _Bea_. Ay, Madam, I have not travel’d for nothing-- L. _Ful_. I find my Cousin is resolv’d to conquer, he assails with all his Artillery of Charms; we’ll leave him to his success, Madam.--