_Foss._ O marriage, thou bitterest of potions, and thou strongest of astringents. This Plotwell that I found talking with her must certainly be the person that sent the letter. But if I have a Bristol stone put upon me instead of a diamond, why should I by experiments spoil its lustre? She is handsome, that is certain. Could I but keep her to myself for the future! Cuckoldom is an accute case, it is quickly over; when it takes place, it admits of no remedy but palliatives.----Be it how it will, while my marriage is a secret---- _Within._ Bless the noble doctor Fossile and his honourable lady. The city musick are come to wish him much joy of his marriage. [_A flourish of fiddles._ _Foss._ Joy and marriage; never were two words so coupled. _Within._ Much happiness attend the learned doctor Fossile and his worthy and virtuous lady. The drums and trumpets of his majesty's guards are come to salute him---- [_A flourish of Drums and Trumpets._ _Foss._ Ah, Fossile! wretched Fossile! into what state hast thou brought thy self! thy disgrace proclaim'd by beat of drum! New married men are treated like those bit by a Tarantula, both must have musick: But where are the notes that can expell a wife! _Exit._ ACT III. Enter FOSSILE in a footman's cloaths, _Foss._ A Special dog; this footman of my wife's! as mercenary as the porter of a first minister! Why should she place him as a centinal at my door? unquestionably, to carry on her intrigues. Why did I bribe him to lend me his livery? to discover those intrigues. And now, O wretched Fossile, thou hast debas'd thyself into the low character of a footman. What then? gods and demi gods have assum'd viler shapes: they, to make a cuckold; I, to prove myself one. Why then should my metamorphosis be more shameful, when my purpose is more honest? [_Knocking at the door, enter footman._] _Foot._ Ay, this is her livery. Friend, give this to your mistress. [_Gives a letter to Fossile and exit._] _Fossile._ [_reads_] 'Madam, you have jilted me. What I gave you cost me dear; what you might have given me, would have cost you nothing. You shall use my next present with more respect. I presented you a fine snuff-box; you gave it to that coxcomb Underplot, and Underplot gave it to my wife. Judge of my surprise. 'Freeman.' A fine circulation of a snuff-box! in time I shall have the rarest of my shells set off with gold hinges, to make presents to all the fops about town. My _Conchæ Veneris_; and perhaps, even my _Nautilus_. _A knocking at the door. Enter an old woman._ _Old Wom._ Can I speak with your good mistress, honest friend? _Fos._ No, she's busy. _Old Wom._ Madam Wyburn presents her service and has sent this letter. [_Exit._ _Fossile._ [_reads_]