Enter L. Fulbank in an undress, and Pert _undrest.
L. Ful. Heavens, what noise is this?—So he’s got safe out I see—hah, what thing art thou? [_Sees Sir Feeble arm’d_.
Sir Feeb. Stay, Madam, stay—’tis I, a poor trembling Mortal.
L. Ful. Sir Feeble Fainwou’d!—rise,—are you both mad?
Sir Cau. No, no,—Madam, we have seen the Devil.
Sir Feeb. Ay, and he was as tall as the Monument.
Sir Cau. With Eyes like a Beacon—and a Mouth,—Heaven bless us, like London Bridge at a full Tide.
Sir Feeb. Ay, and roar’d as loud.
L. Ful. Idle Fancies, what makes you from your Bed? and you, Sir, from your Bride?
Enter Dick with Sack.