Sir Cau. A very distracted Countenance—pray Heaven he be not mad, and a young Wife is able to make an old Fellow mad, that’s the Truth on’t. [Aside.
Sir Feeb. Sure ‘tis something of his Lady—he’s so loth to bring it out
—I am sorry you are thus disturb’d, Sir.
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?