Sir _Cau_. No disturbance to serve a Friend--
Sir _Feeb_. I think I am your Friend indeed, Sir _Cautious_, or I wou'd not have been here upon my Wedding-Night.
Sir _Cau_. His Wedding-Night--there lies his Grief, poor Heart! Perhaps she has cuckolded him already-- [_Aside_.
--Well, come, Brother--many such things are done--
Sir _Feeb_. Done--hum--come, out with it; Brother--what troubles you to Night?
Sir _Cau_. Troubles me--why, knows he I am robb'd? [_Aside_.
Sir _Feeb_. I may perhaps restore you to the Rest you've lost.
Sir _Cau_. The Rest; why, have I lost more since? Why, know you then who did it?--Oh, how I'd be reveng'd upon the Rascal!
Sir _Feeb_. 'Tis--Jealousy, the old Worm that bites-- [_Aside_.
Who is it you suspect?
Sir _Cau_. Alas, I know not whom to suspect, I wou'd I did; but if you cou'd discover him--I wou'd so swinge him--
Sir _Feeb_. I know him--what, do you take me for a Pimp, Sir? I know him--there's your Watch again, Sir; I'm your Friend, but no Pimp, Sir-- [_Rises in Rage_.
Sir _Cau_. My Watch; I thank you, Sir--but why Pimp, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. Oh, a very thriving Calling, Sir,--and I have a young Wife to practise with. I know your Rogues.
Sir _Cau_. A young Wife!--'tis so, his Gentlewoman has been at Hot-Cockles without her Husband, and he's Horn-mad upon't. I suspected her being so close in with his Nephew--in a Fit with a Pox--[_Aside_.]
Come, come, Sir _Feeble_, 'tis many an honest Man's Fortune.
Sir _Feeb_. I grant it, Sir--but to the business, Sir, I came for.
Sir _Cau_. With all my Soul--
[_They sit gaping, and expecting when either should speak.
Enter_ Bredwel _and_ Gayman _at the door_. Bredwel _sees them, and puts_ Gayman_ back again_.
_Bred_. Hah--Sir _Feeble_, and Sir _Cautious_ there--what shall I do?
For this way we must pass, and to carry him back wou'd discover my Lady to him, betray all, and spoil the Jest--retire, Sir, your Life depends upon your being unseen. [_Go out_.
Sir _Feeb_. Well, Sir, do you not know that I am married, Sir? and this my Wedding Night?
Sir _Cau_. Very good, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. And that I long to be in bed?
Sir _Cau_. Very well, Sir.
Sir _Feeb_. Very good, Sir, and very well, Sir--why then what the Devil do I make here, Sir? [_Rises in a rage_.
Sir _Cau_. Patience, Brother--and forward.
Sir _Feeb_. Forward! lend me your hand, good Brother; let's feel your Pulse; how has this Night gone with you?
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha--this is the oddest Quonudrum--sure he's mad--and yet now I think on't, I have not slept to night, nor shall I ever sleep again, till I have found the Villain that robb'd me. [_Weeps_.
Sir _Feeb_. So, now he weeps--far gone--this Laughing and Weeping is a very bad sign! [_Aside_.] Come, let me lead you to your Bed.
Sir _Cau_. Mad, stark mad--no, now I'm up 'tis no matter--pray ease your troubled Mind--I am your Friend--out with it--what, was it acted? or but designed?
Sir _Feeb_. How, Sir?
Sir _Cau_. Be not asham'd, I'm under the same Premunire I doubt, little better than a--but let that pass.
Sir _Feeb_. Have you any Proof?
Sir _Cau_. Proof of what, good Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. Of what! why, that you're a Cuckold; Sir, a Cuckold, if you'll ha't.
Sir _Cau_. Cuckold! Sir, do ye know what ye say?
Sir _Feeb_. What I say?
Sir _Cau_. Ay, what you say, can you make this out?
Sir _Feeb_. I make it out!
Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir--if you say it, and cannot make it out, you're a--
Sir _Feeb_. What am I, Sir? What am I?
Sir _Cau_. A Cuckold as well as my self, Sir; and I'll sue you for _Scandalum Magnatum_; I shall recover swinging Damages with a City-Jury.
Sir _Feeb_. I know of no such thing, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. No, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. No, Sir.
Sir _Cau_. Then what wou'd you be at, Sir?
Sir _Feeb_. I be at, Sir! what wou'd you be at, Sir?
Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha--why this is the strangest thing--to see an old Fellow, a Magistrate of the City, the first Night he's married, forsake his Bride and Bed, and come arm'd Cap-a-pee, like _Gargantua_, to disturb another old Fellow, and banter him with a Tale of a Tub; and all to be-cuckold him here--in plain _English_, what's your Business?
Sir _Feeb_. Why, what the Devil's your Business, and you go to that?
Sir _Cau_. My Business, with whom?
Sir _Feeb_. With me, Sir, with me; what a Pox do you think I do here?