_Just._ I thank you, kindly, Sir; but I never drink in a Morning. Good-by t'ye, Sir, good-by t'ye. _Sir John._ Good by t'ye, good Sir. [_Exit Justice._] So----now, Mr. Constable, shall you and I go pick up a Whore together? _Constab._ No, thank you, Sir; my Wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable Man. _Sir John._ [_Aside._] He, he, he, he--the Fool is married, then. Well, you won't go? _Constab._ Not I, truly. _Sir John._ Then I'll go by myself; and you and your Wife may be damn'd. [_Exit Sir ~John~._ _Constable._ [_Gazing after him._] Why, God a-mercy, Parson? [_Exeunt._ +SCENE+, _Spring-Garden_. _~Constant~ and ~Heartfree~ cross the Stage. As they go off, enter Lady ~Fancyfull~ and ~Madamoiselle~ mask'd, and dogging 'em._ _Const._ So; I think we are about the time appointed: let us walk up this way. [_Exeunt._ _Lady Fan._ Good: Thus far I have dogg'd 'em without being discover'd. 'Tis infallibly some Intrigue that brings them to _Spring-Garden_. How my poor Heart is torn and rackt with Fear and Jealousy! Yet let it be any thing but that Flirt _Belinda_, and I'll try to bear it. But if it prove her, all that's Woman in me shall be employ'd to destroy her. [_Exeunt after ~Constant~ and ~Heartfree~._ _Re-enter ~Constant~ and ~Heartfree~, Lady ~Fancyfull~ and ~Madamoiselle~ still following at a Distance_. _Const._ I see no Females yet, that have any thing to say to us. I'm afraid we are banter'd. _Heart._ I wish we were; for I'm in no Humour to make either them or myself merry. _Const._ Nay, I'm sure you'll make them merry enough, if I tell 'em why you are dull. But pr'ythee why so heavy and sad before you begin to be ill us'd? _Heart._ For the same Reason, perhaps, that you are so brisk and well pleas'd; because both Pains and Pleasures are generally more considerable in Prospect, than when they come to pass. _Enter Lady ~Brute~ and ~Belinda~, mask'd and poorly dress'd._ _Const._ How now! who are these? Not our Game, I hope. _Heart._ If they are, we are e'en well enough serv'd, to come a-hunting here, when we had so much better Game in Chase elsewhere. _Lady Fan._ [_To Madamoiselle._] So, those are their Ladies, without doubt. But I'm afraid that _Doily_ Stuff is not worn for want of better Clothes. They are the very Shape and Size of _Belinda_ and her Aunt. _Madam._ So dey be inteed, Matam. _Lady Fan._ We'll slip into this close Arbour, where we may hear all they say. [_Exeunt Lady ~Fancyfull~ and ~Madamoiselle~._ _Lady Brute._ What, are you afraid of us, Gentlemen? _Heart._ Why, truly, I think we may, if Appearance don't lye. _Bel._ Do you always find Women what they appear to be, Sir?