_Const._ Farewel, Beast! And now, my dear Friend, would my Mistress be but as complaisant as some Men's Wives, who think it a piece of good Breeding to receive the Visits of their Husband's Friends in his Absence! _Heart._ Why, for your sake I could forgive her, tho' she should be so complaisant to receive something else in his Absence. But what way shall we invent to see her? _Const._ O, ne'er hope it: Invention will prove as vain as Wishes. _Enter Lady ~Brute~ and ~Belinda~._ _Heart._ What do you think now, Friend? _Const._ I think I shall swoon. _Heart._ I'll speak first, then, whilst you fetch breath. _Lady Brute._ We think ourselves oblig'd, Gentlemen, to come and return you thanks for your Knight-Errantry. We were just upon being devour'd by the fiery Dragon. _Bel._ Did not his Fumes almost knock you down, Gentlemen? _Heart._ Truly, Ladies, we did undergo some Hardships; and should have done more, if some greater Heroes than ourselves, hard by, had not diverted him. _Const._ Tho' I'm glad of the Service you are pleas'd to say we have done you, yet I'm sorry we could do it in no other way, than by making ourselves privy to what you would perhaps have kept a Secret. _Lady Brute._ For Sir _John_'s part, I suppose he design'd it no Secret, since he made so much Noise. And for myself, truly I'm not much concern'd, since 'tis fallen only into this Gentleman's Hands and yours; who, I have many Reasons to believe, will neither interpret nor report any thing to my disadvantage. _Const._ Your good Opinion, Madam, was what I fear'd I never could have merited. _Lady Brute._ Your Fears were vain, then, Sir; for I'm just to every body. _Heart._ Pr'ythee, _Constant_, what is't you do to get the Ladies good Opinions? for I'm a Novice at it. _Bel._ Sir, will you give me leave to instruct you? _Heart._ Yes, that I will, with all my Soul, Madam. _Bel._ Why, then, you must never be slovenly, never be out of humour, fare well and cry Roast-meat, smoak Tobacco, nor drink but when you are dry. _Heart._ That's hard. _Const._ Nay, if you take his Bottle from him, you break his Heart, Madam. _Bel._ Why, is it possible the Gentleman can love Drinking? _Heart._ Only by way of Antidote. _Bel._ Against what, pray? _Heart._ Against Love, Madam. _Lady Brute._ Are you afraid of being in Love, Sir? _Heart._ I should, if there were any Danger of it. _Lady Brute._ Pray why so? _Heart._ Because I always had an Aversion to being us'd like a Dog. _Bel._ Why, truly, Men in Love are seldom us'd better. _Lady Brute._ But was you never in Love, Sir? _Heart._ No, I thank Heav'n, Madam. _Bel._ Pray, where got you your Learning, then? _Heart._ From other People's Expence. _Bel._ That's being a Spunger, Sir, which is scarce honest: If you'd buy some Experience with your own Money, as 'twould be fairlier got, so 'twould stick longer by you. _Enter Footman._