_Gay_. Wife, Sir! ay, your Wife-- Sir _Cau_. Hum, my Wife against three hundred Pounds! What, all my Wife, Sir? _Gay_. All your Wife! Why, Sir, some part of her wou’d serve my turn. Sir _Cau_. Hum--my Wife--why, if I shou’d lose, he cou’d not have the Impudence to take her. [Aside. _Gay_. Well, I find you are not for the Bargain, and so I put up-- Sir _Cau_. Hold, Sir--why so hasty--my Wife? no--put up your Money, Sir--what, lose my Wife for three hundred Pounds!-- _Gay_. Lose her, Sir!--why, she shall be never the worse for my wearing, Sir--the old covetous Rogue is considering on’t, I think--What say you to a Night? I’ll set it to a Night--there’s none need know it, Sir. Sir _Cau_. Hum--a Night!--three hundred Pounds for a Night! why, what a lavish Whore-master’s this! We take Money to marry our Wives, but very seldom part with ‘em, and by the Bargain get Money--For a Night, say you?--Gad, if I shou’d take the Rogue at his word, ‘twou’d be a pure Jest. [Aside. Sir _Feeb_. You are not mad, Brother. Sir _Cau_. No, but I’m wise--and that’s as good; let me consider.-- Sir _Feeb_. What, whether you shall be a Cuckold or not? Sir _Cau_. Or lose three hundred Pounds--consider that. A Cuckold!--why, ’.is a word--an empty sound--’tis Breath--’tis Air--’tis nothing:--but three hundred Pounds--Lord, what will not three hundred Pounds do? You may chance to be a Cuckold for nothing, Sir-- Sir _Feeb_. It may be so--but she shall do’t discretly then. Sir _Cau_. Under favour, you’re an Ass, Brother; this is the discreetest way of doing it, I take it. Sir _Feeb_. But wou’d a wise man expose his Wife? Sir _Cau_. Why, _Cato_ was a wiser Man than I, and he lent his Wife to a young Fellow they call’d _Hortensius_, as Story says; and can a wise Man have a better Precedent than _Cato_? Sir _Feeb_. I say, _Cato_ was an Ass, Sir, for obliging any young Rogue of ’.m all. Sir _Cau_. But I am of _Cato’s_ mind. Well, a single Night you say. _Gay_. A single Night--to have--to hold--possess--and so forth, at discretion. Sir _Cau_. A Night--I shall have her safe and sound i’th’ Morning. Sir _Feeb_. Safe, no doubt on’t--but how sound.-- _Gay_. And for Non-performance, you shall pay me three hundred Pounds, I’ll forfeit as much if I tell-- Sir _Cau_. Tell?--why, make your three hundred pounds six hundred, and let it be put into the _Gazet_, if you will, Man.--But it’s a Bargain? _Gay_. Done--Sir Feeble shall be witness--and there stands my Hat. [_Puts down his Hat of Money, and each of em take a Box and Dice, and kneel on the Stage, the rest come about ‘em_. Sir _Cau_. He that comes first to One and thirty wins-- [_They throw and count_. L. _Ful_. What are you playing for? Sir _Feeb_. Nothing, nothing--but a Trial of Skill between an old Man and a Young--and your Ladyship is to be Judge. L. _Ful_. I shall be partial, Sir.