Limb. Nay, nothing; but that I thought you had not been so well given. I was only afraid of Pug's jewels.
Wood. What, does he take me for a thief? nay then—
Limb. O mercy, mercy!
Pleas. Hold, sir; it was a foolish dream of mine that set him on. I dreamt, a thief, who had been just reprieved for a former robbery, was venturing his neck a minute after in Mr Limberham's closet.
Wood. Are you thereabouts, i'faith! A pox of Artemidorus[13].
Trick. I have had a dream, too, concerning Mrs Brainsick, and perhaps—
Wood. Mrs Tricksy, a word in private with you, by your keeper's leave.
Limb. Yes, sir, you may speak your pleasure to her; and, if you have a mind to go to prayers together, the closet is open.
Wood. [To Trick.] You but suspect it at most, and cannot prove it: if you value me, you will not engage me in a quarrel with her husband.