Enter Servant.
Serv. Sir, here’s a Chest directed to your Worship.
Sir Cau. Hum, ‘tis Wasteall—now does my heart fail me—A Chest say you—to me—so late;—I’ll warrant it comes from Sir Nicholas Smuggle—some prohibited Goods that he has stoln the Custom of, and cheated his Majesty—Well, he’s an honest Man, bring it in—
[Exit Servant.
L. Ful. What, into my Apartment, Sir, a nasty Chest!
Sir Cau. By all means—for if the Searchers come, they’ll never be so uncivil to ransack thy Lodgings; and we are bound in Christian Charity to do for one another—Some rich Commodities, I am sure—and some fine Knick-knack will fall to thy share, I’ll warrant thee —Pox on him for a young Rogue, how punctual he is! [Aside.
Enter with the Chest.
—Go, my Dear, go to Bed—I’ll send Sir Nicholas a Receit for the
Chest, and be with thee presently—
[Ex. severally.
[Gayman peeps out of the Chest, and looks round him wondring.