Let. Oh Bellmour, Bellmour.
[_Sir Feeb. starts back from her hands_.
Sir Feeb. Hum—what’s that—Bellmour!
Let. Hah! Sir Feeble!—he would not, Sir, have us’d me thus unkindly.
Sir Feeb. Oh—I’m glad ‘tis no worse—Bellmour, quoth a! I thought the Ghost was come again.
Phil. Why did you not speak, Sir, all this while?—my Lady weeps with your Unkindness.
Sir Feeb. I did but hold my peace, to hear how prettily she prattled Love: But, fags, you are naught to think of a young Fellow—ads bobs, you are now.
Let. I only say—he wou’d not have been so unkind to me.
Sir Feeb. But what makes ye out at this Hour, and with these Jewels?
Phil. Alas, Sir, we thought the City was in Arms, and packt up our things to secure ‘em, if there had been a necessity for Flight. For had they come to plundering once, they wou’d have begun with the rich Aldermen’s Wives, you know, Sir.