rt a Dye or so: I had only an innocent design
to have discover'd whether this Gentleman had stoln my Gold, that so I
might have hang'd him--

_Gay_. A very innocent Design indeed!

Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir, that's all, as I'm an honest man.--

L. _Ful_. I've sworn, nor are the Stars more fix'd than I.

_Enter Servant_.

_Serv_. How! my Lady and his Worship up?--Madam, a Gentleman and
a Lady below in a Coach knockt me up, and say they must speak with
your Ladyship.

L. _Ful_. This is strange!--bring them up-- [_Exit Servant_.
Who can it be, at this odd time of neither Night nor Day?

_Enter_ Leticia, Bellmour, _and_ Phillis.

_Let_. Madam, your Virtue, Charity and Friendship to me, has made me
trespass on you for my Life's security, and beg you will protect me, and
my Husband-- [_Points at_ Bellmour.

Sir _Cau_. So, here's another sad Catastrophe!

L. _Ful_. Hah--does _Bellmour_ live? is't possible?
Believe me, Sir, you ever had my Wishes;
And shall not fail of my Protection now.

_Bel_. I humbly thank your Ladyship.

_Gay_. I'm glad thou hast her, _Harry_; but doubt thou durst not own her;
nay dar'st not own thy self.

_Bel_. Yes, Friend, I have my Pardon--
But hark, I think we are pursu'd already--
But now I fear no force.

[_A noise of some body coming in_.

L. _Ful_. However, step into my Bed-chamber.

[_Exeunt_ Leticia, Gayman _and_ Phillis.

_Enter Sir_ Feeble _in an Antick manner_.

Sir _Feeb_. Hell shall not hold thee--nor vast Mountains cover thee, but
I will find thee out--and lash thy filthy and Adulterous Carcase.
[_Coming up in a menacing manner to Sir _Cau.

Sir _Cau_. How--lash my filthy Carcase?--I defy thee, Satan--

Sir _Feeb_. 'Twas thus he said.

Sir _Cau_. Let who's will say it, he lies in's Throat.

Sir _Feeb_. How, the Ghostly--hush--have a care--for 'twas the Ghost of
_Bellmour_--Oh! hide that bleeding Wound, it chills my Soul!--
[_Runs to the Lady_ Fulbank.

L. _Ful_. What bleeding Wound?--Heavens, are you frantick, Sir?

Sir _Feeb_. No--but for want of rest, I shall e'er Morning. [_Weeps_.
--She's gone--she's gone--she's gone-- [_He weeps_.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, she's gone, she's gone indeed.
[_Sir_ Cau. _weeps_.

Sir _Feeb_. But let her go, so I may never see that dreadful Vision
--harkye, Sir--