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?

Sir _Cau_. 'Tis that I wou'd be glad to know, Sir.

_Enter _Dick.

Sir _Feeb_. Here, _Dick_, remember I've brought back your Master's
Watch; next time he sends for me o'er Night, I'll come to him in
the Morning.

Sir _Cau_. Ha, ha, ha, I send for you! Go home and sleep, Sir--Ad, and
ye keep your Wife waking to so little purpose, you'll go near to be
haunted with a Vision of Horns.

[_Exit_ Dick.

Sir _Feeb_. Roguery, Knavery, to keep me from my Wife--Look ye, this was
the Message I receiv'd.
[_Tells him seemingly_.

_Enter_ Bredwel _to the Door in a white Sheet like a Ghost,
speaking to_ Gayman _who stands within_.

_Bred_. Now, Sir, we are two to two, for this way you must pass or be
taken in the Lady's Lodgings--I'll first adventure out to make you pass
the safer, and that he may not, if possible, see Sir _Cautious_, whom I
shall fright into a Trance, I am sure.
And Sir _Feeble_, the Devil's in't if he know him. [_Aside_.

_Gay_. A brave kind Fellow this.

_Enter_ Bredwel _stalking on as a Ghost by them_.

Sir _Cau_. Oh--undone,--undone; help, help;--I'm dead, I'm dead.
[_Falls down on his Face; Sir_ Feeble _stares,--and stands still_.

_Bred_. As I could wish. [_Aside, turns_.
Come on, thou ghastly thing, and follow me.

_Enter_ Gayman _like a Ghost, with a Torch_.

Sir _Cau_. Oh Lord, oh Lord!

_Gay_. Hah!--old Sir _Feeble Fainwou'd_--why, where the Devil am I?
--'Tis he:--and be it where it will, I'll fright the old Dotard for
cozening my Friend of his Mistress. [_Stalks on_.

Sir _Feeb_. Oh, guard me,--guard me--all ye Pow'rs! [_Trembling_.

_Gay_. Thou call'st in vain, fond Wretch--for I am _Bellmour_,

_Whom first thou robb'st o