_Bred_. Your Pardon, Sir, I had forgot my self. --But time is short--what’s to be done in this? _Bea_. Done! I’ll enter the House with Fire and Sword, d’ye see, not that I care this--but I’ll not be fob’d off--what, do they take me for a Fool--an Ass? _Bred_. Madam, dare you run the risk of your Father’s Displeasure, and run away with the Man you love? _Dia_. With all my Soul-- _Bea_. That’s hearty--and we’ll do it--_Ned_ and I here--and I love an Amour with an Adventure in’t like _Amadis de Gaul_--Harkye, _Ned_, get a Coach and six ready to night when ‘tis dark, at the back Gate-- _Bred_. And I’ll get a Parson ready in my Lodging, to which I have a Key through the Garden, by which we may pass unseen. _Bea_. Good--Mun, here’s Company-- _Enter_ Gayman _with his Hat and Money in’t, Sir_ Cautious _in a rage, Sir_ Feeble, _Lady_ Fulbank, Leticia, _Captain_ Noisey, Bellmour. Sir _Cau_. A hundred Pound lost already! Oh Coxcomb, old Coxcomb, and a wise Coxcomb--to turn Prodigal at my Years, why, I was bewitcht! Sir _Feeb_. Shaw, ‘twas a Frolick, Sir, I have lost a hundred Pound as well as you. My Lady has lost, and your Lady has lost, and the rest-- what, old Cows will kick sometimes, what’s a hundred Pound? Sir _Cau_. A hundred Pound! why, ‘tis a sum, Sir--a sum--why, what the Devil did I do with a Box and Dice! L. _Ful_. Why, you made a shift to lose, Sir? And where’s the harm of that? We have lost, and he has won; anon it may be your Fortune. Sir _Cau_. Ay, but he could never do it fairly, that’s certain. Three hundred Pound! why, how came you to win so unmercifully, Sir? _Gay_. Oh, the Devil will not lose a Gamester of me, you see, Sir. Sir _Cau_. The Devil!--mark that, Gentlemen-- _Bea_. The Rogue has damn’d luck sure, he has got a Fly-- Sir _Cau_. And can you have the Conscience to carry away all our Money, Sir? _Gay_. Most assuredly, unless you have the courage to retrieve it. I’ll set it at a Throw, or any way: what say you, Gentlemen? Sir _Feeb_. Ods bobs, you young Fellows are too hard for us every way, and I’m engag’d at an old Game with a new Gamester here, who will require all an old Man’s stock. L. _Ful_. Come, Cousin, will you venture a Guinea? Come, Mr. _Bredwel_. _Gay_. Well, if no body dare venture on me, I’ll send away my Cash-- [_They all go to play at the Table, but Sir_ Cau. _Sir_ Feeb. _and_ Gay. Sir _Cau_. Hum--must it all go?--a rare sum, if a Man were but sure the Devil wou’d but stand Neuter now-- [Aside. --Sir, I wish I had any thing but ready Money to stake: three hundred Pound--a fine Sum! _Gay_. You have Moveables, Sir, Goods--Commodities-- Sir _Cau_. That’s all one, Sir; that’s Money’s worth, Sir: but if I had any thing that were worth nothing-- _Gay_. You wou’d venture it,--I thank you, Sir,--I wou’d your Lady were worth nothing-- Sir _Cau_. Why, so, Sir? _Gay_. Then I wou’d set all this against that Nothing. Sir _Cau_. What, set it against my Wife?