proof for this your hint?

WILSON. It is the current rumour of the neighbourhood,
Else I should ne'er have dar'd to wound your ear;
But friendship urges the unpleasing task--
You tell me, you sleep mostly in the country?

ANDREWS. What then? he may, ev'n when I sleep in town,
Pass nights with her, and all unknown to me.

WILSON. You puzzle me.

ANDREWS. 'Tis easily explain'd.
For some time past we've slept in separate chambers.
For when she had exchang'd her harmless life
For the destructive course she now pursues,
Her hours became so late and so uncertain,
My rest was quite disturb'd.

WILSON. Unhappy state!
Have you discours'd her calmly on these matters?
Few of her sex possess superiour talents.

ANDREWS. Her temper is so chang'd, so sour'd of late,

Which with her sad misconduct still increases;
And she so prides herself on her alliances,
And the caresses of her vain associates,
That neither I, nor her neglected children,
Dare ev'n attempt the least discourse with her.
Did you know all, 'twould rend your tender heart. [He pauses
a while, then walks about much disturbed.]

WILSON. He has abundance more to hear of yet;
Two bills this very day, went off unpaid,
A stroke too fatal, e'er to be recover'd. [Aside.]
Affliction is heav'n's trial of our patience,
As of its love sure proof; and oft' our benefit.

ANDREWS. Can you continue friend to such lost fortune?

WILSON. How it would grieve me could you even doubt it!
The surest test of friendship is affliction.
'Tis then, the faithful heart displays itself,
Whilst vain professors vanish in the gloom.

ANDREWS. Tell me--Oh tell me! what would you advise?

WILSON. Against we meet on the Exchange to-day,
I will revolve it well.

ANDREWS. Reward your goodness heav'n! [WILSON goes off.]

Re-enter THOMAS.

Oh what a fatal change in my affairs!
Have you observ'd it, Thomas, yet been silent?

THOMAS. I almost wish I knew not how to answer:
But since it is his will I must obey. [Aside.]
Dare then your faithful servant speak some truths,
With which his heart is full?

ANDREWS. What prevents you?

THOMAS. I dare not--yet--[aside] suppose 'twere of a wife,
So lov'd, so doted on?--