L. _Ful_.--Is my Lady at leisure for a Visit, Sir?
_Bel_. Always to receive your Ladyship.
[_She goes out_.
Sir _Cau_. With me, Sir, wou'd you speak?
_Gay_. With you, Sir, if your name be _Fulbank_.
Sir _Cau_. Plain _Fulbank_! methinks you might have had a Sirreverence, under your Girdle, Sir; I am honoured with another Title, Sir-- [_Goes talking to the rest_.
_Gay_. With many, Sir, that very well become you-- [_Pulls him a little aside_.
I've something to deliver to your Ear.
Sir _Cau_. So, I'll be hang'd if he do not tell me, I'm a Cuckold now: I see it in his Eyes. My Ear, Sir! I'd have you to know I scorn any man's secrets, Sir;--for ought I know you may whisper Treason to me, Sir.
Pox on him, how handsom he is, I hate the sight of the young Stallion.
[_Aside_.
_Gay_. I wou'd not be so uncivil, Sir, before all this Company.
Sir _Cau_. Uncivil! Ay, ay, 'tis so, he cannot be content to cuckold, but he must tell me so too.
_Gay_. But since you will have it, Sir--you are--a Rascal--a most notorious Villain, Sir, d'ye hear--
Sir _Cau_. Yes, yes, I do hear--and am glad 'tis no worse. [_Laughing_.
_Gay_. Griping as Hell--and as insatiable--worse than a Brokering Jew, not all the Twelve Tribes harbour such a damn'd Extortioner.
Sir _Cau_. Pray, under favour, Sir, who are you?
[_Pulling off his Hat_.
_Gay_. One whom thou hast undone--
Sir _Cau_. Hum--I'm glad of that however. [_Aside smiling_.
_Gay_. Racking me up to a starving Want and Misery, Then took advantages to ruin me.
Sir _Cau_. So, and he'd revenge it on my Wife-- [_Aside smiling_.
_Gay_. Do not you know one _Wasteall_, Sir?
_Enter_ Ralph _with Wine, sets it on a Table_.
Sir _Cau_. _Wasteall_--ha, ha, ha,--if you are any Friend to that poor Fellow--you may return and tell him, Sir--d'ye hear--that the Mortgage of two hundred pound a Year is this day out, and I'll not bait him an hour, Sir--ha, ha, ha,--what, do you think to hector civil Magistrates?
_Gay_. Very well, Sir, and is this your Conscience?
Sir _Cau_. Conscience! what do you tell me of Conscience? Why, what a noise is here--as if the undoing a young Heir were such a Wonder; ods so I've undone a hundred without, half this ado.
_Gay_. I do believe thee--and am come to tell you--I'll be none of that Number--for this Minute I'll go and redeem it--and free myself from the Hell of your Indentures.
Sir _Cau_. How, redeem it! sure the Devil must help him then.--Stay, Sir--stay--Lord, Sir, what need you put your self to that trouble? your Land is in safe hands, Sir; come, come, sit down--and let us take a Glass of Wine together, Sir--
_Bel_. Sir, my service to you. [_Drinks to him_.
_Gay_. Your Servant, Sir. Wou'd I cou'd come to speak to _Bellmour_, which I dare not do in publick, lest I betray him. I long to be resolv'd where 'twas Sir _Feeble_ was last night--if it were he--by which I might find out my invisible Mistress.
_Noi_. Noble Mr. _Wasteall_-- [_Salutes him, so does_ Bearjest.
_Bel_. Will you please to sit, Sir?
_Gay_. I have a little business, Sir--but anon I'll wait on you--your Servant, Gentlemen--I'll to _Crap_ the Scrivener's.
[_Goes out_.
Sir _Cau_. Do you know this _Wasteall_, Sir?-- [_To_ Noisey.
_Noi_. Know him, Sir! ay, too well--
_Bea_. The World's well amended with him, Captain, since I lost my Money to him and you at the _George_ in _White-Fryers_.
_Noi_. Ay, poor Fellow--he's sometimes up, and sometimes down, as the Dice favour him--
_Bea_. Faith, and that's pity; but how came he so fine o'th' sudden?
'Twas but last week he borrowed eighteen pence of me on his Waste-Belt to pay his Dinner in an Ordinary.
_Bel_. Were you so cruel, Sir, to take it?
_Noi_. We are not all one Man's Children; faith, Sir, we are here to Day, and gone to Morrow--
Sir _Cau_. I say 'twas done like a wise Man, Sir; but under favour, Gentlemen, this _Wasteall_ is a Rascal--
_Noi_. A very Rascal, Sir, and a most dangerous Fellow--he cullies in your Prentices and Cashiers to play--which ruins so many o'th' young Fry i'th' City--
Sir _Cau_. Hum--does he so--d'ye hear that, _Edward_?
_Noi_. Then he keeps a private Press, and prints your _Amsterdam_ and _Leyden_ Libels.
Sir _Cau_. Ay, and makes 'em too, I'll warrant him; a dangerous Fellow--
_Noi_. Sometimes he begs for a lame Soldier with a wooden Leg.
_Bea_. Sometimes as a blind Man, sells Switches in _New-Market_ Road.
_Noi_. At other times he runs the Country like a Gipsey--tells Fortunes and robs Hedges, when he's out of Linen.
Sir _Cau_. Tells Fortunes too!--nay, I thought he dealt with the Devil --Well, Gentlemen, you are all wide o' this Matter--for to tell you the Truth--he deals with the Devil, Gentlemen --otherwise he could never have redeem'd his Land. [Aside.
_Bel_. How, Sir, the Devil!