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?