_Heart._ That using them moderately undoes us all; but I'll use them justly, and that you ought to be satisfied with. I always consider a Woman, not as the Taylor, the Shoemaker, the Tire-woman, the Sempstress, and (which is more than all that) the Poet makes her; but I consider her as pure Nature has contrived her, and that more strictly than I shou'd have done our old Grandmother _Eve_, had I seen her naked in the Garden; for I consider her turn'd inside out. Her Heart well examin'd, I find there Pride, Vanity, Covetousness, Indiscretion, but above all things, Malice; plots eternally a-forging to destroy one another's Reputations, and as honestly to charge the Levity of Men's Tongues with the Scandal; hourly Debates how to make poor Gentlemen in love with them, with no other Intent but to use them like Dogs when they have done; a constant Desire of doing more Mischief, and an everlasting War wag'd against Truth and Good-Nature. _Const._ Very well, Sir! An admirable Composition, truly! _Heart._ Then for her Outside, I consider it merely as an Outside; she has a thin Tiffany Covering over just such Stuff as you and I are made on. As for her Motion, her Mien, her Airs, and all those Tricks, I know they affect you mightily. If you should see your Mistress at a Coronation dragging her Peacock's Train, with all her State and Insolence about her, 'twou'd strike you with all the awful Thoughts that Heav'n itself could pretend to from you; whereas I turn the whole Matter into a Jest, and suppose her strutting in the self-same stately Manner, with nothing on her but her Stays and her under scanty quilted Petticoat. _Const._ Hold thy profane Tongue; for I'll hear no more. _Heart._ What, you'll love on, then? _Const._ Yes, to Eternity. _Heart._ Yet you have no hopes at all? _Const._ None. _Heart._ Nay, the Resolution may be discreet enough; perhaps you have found out some new Philosophy, that Love, like Virtue, is its own Reward: So you and your Mistress will be as well content at a Distance, as others that have less Learning are in coming together. _Const._ No; but if she should prove kind at last, my dear _Heartfree_-- [_Embracing him_. _Heart._ Nay, pr'ythee, don't take me for your Mistress; for Lovers are very troublesome. _Const._ Well; who knows what Time may do? _Heart._ And just now he was sure Time could do nothing. _Const._ Yet not one kind Glance in two Years, is somewhat strange. _Heart._ Not strange at all; she don't like you, that's all the Business. _Const._ Pr'ythee, don't distract me. _Heart._ Nay, you are a good handsome young Fellow, she might use you better: Come, will you go see her? Perhaps she may have chang'd her Mind; there's some Hopes as long as she's a Woman. _Const._ O, 'tis in vain to visit her! Sometimes to get a Sight of her, I visit that Beast her Husband; but she certainly finds some Pretence to quit the Room as soon as I enter.