_Aman._ Well; there's nothing upon Earth astonishes me more than Men's Inconstancy. _Ber._ Now there's nothing upon Earth astonishes me less, when I consider what they and we are compos'd of. For Nature has made them Children, and us Babies. Now, _Amanda_, how we us'd our Babies, you may remember. We were mad to have them, as soon as we saw them; kiss'd them to pieces, as soon as we got them; then pull'd off their Clothes, saw them naked, and so threw them away. _Aman._ But do you think all Men are of this Temper? _Ber._ All but one. _Aman._ Who's that? _Ber._ _Worthy_. _Aman._ Why, he's weary of his Wife too, you see. _Ber._ Ay, that's no Proof. _Aman._ What can be a greater? _Ber._ Being weary of his Mistress. _Aman._ Don't you think 'twere possible he might give you that too? _Ber._ Perhaps he might, if he were my Gallant; not if he were your's. _Aman._ Why do you think he shou'd be more constant to me, than he wou'd to you? I'm sure I'm not so handsome. _Ber._ Kissing goes by Favour; he likes you best. _Aman._ Suppose he does; That's no Demonstration he wou'd be constant to me. _Ber._ No, that I'll grant you: But there are other Reasons to expect it; for you must know after all, _Amanda_, the Inconstancy we commonly see in Men of Brains, does not so much proceed from the Uncertainty of their Temper, as from the Misfortunes of their Love. A Man sees, perhaps, an hundred Women he likes well enough for an Intrigue, and away; but possibly, thro' the whole Course of his Life, does not find above one, who is exactly what he could wish her: now her, 'tis a thousand to one, he never gets. Either she is not to be had at all (tho' that seldom happens, you'll say) or he wants those Opportunities that are necessary to gain her; either she likes somebody else much better than him, or uses him like a Dog, because he likes no body so well as her. Still something or other Fate claps in the way between them and the Woman they are capable of being fond of. And this makes them wander about from Mistress to Mistress, like a Pilgrim from Town to Town, who every Night must have a fresh lodging, and 's in haste to be gone in the Morning. _Aman._ Tis possible there may be something in what you say; but what do you infer from it, as to the Man we were talking of? _Ber._ Why, I infer, that you being the Woman in the World the most to his Humour, 'tis not likely he would quit you for one that is less. _Aman._ That is not to be depended upon, for you see Mr. _Loveless_ does so. _Ber._ What does Mr. _Loveless_ do? _Aman._ Why, he runs after something for Variety, I'm sure he does not like so well as he does me. _Ber._ That's more than you know, Madam. _Aman._ No, I'm sure on't: I am not very vain, _Berinthia_; and yet I'll lay my Life, if I could look into his Heart, he thinks I deserve to be prefer'd to a thousand of her.