_Lady Brute._ When Debtors once have borrow'd all we have to lend, they are very apt to grow shy of their Creditors' Company. _Const._ That, Madam, is only when they are forc'd to borrow of Usurers, and not of a generous Friend. Let us choose our Creditors, and we are seldom so ungrateful to shun 'em. _Lady Brute._ What think you of Sir _John_, Sir? I was his free Choice. _Const._ I think he's married, Madam. _Lady Brute._ Does Marriage, then, exclude Men from your Rule of Constancy? _Const._ It does. Constancy's a brave, free, haughty, generous Agent, that cannot buckle to the Chains of Wedlock. There's a poor sordid Slavery in Marriage, that turns the flowing Tide of Honour, and sinks us to the lowest Ebb of Infamy. 'Tis a corrupted Soil: Ill-Nature, Avarice, Sloth, Cowardice, and Dirt, are all its Product. _Lady Brute._ Have you no Exceptions to this general Rule, as well as to t'other? _Const._ Yes; I would, after all, be an Exception to it myself, if you were free in Power and Will to make me so. _Lady Brute._ Compliments are well plac'd where 'tis impossible to lay hold on 'em. _Const._ I wou'd to Heaven 'twere possible for you to lay hold on mine, that you might see it is no Compliment at all. But since you are already dispos'd of, beyond Redemption, to one who does not know the Value of the Jewel you have put into his Hands, I hope you wou'd not think him greatly wrong'd, tho' it should sometimes be look'd on by a Friend, who knows how to esteem it as he ought. _Lady Brute._ If looking on't alone wou'd serve his turn, the Wrong, perhaps, might not be very great. _Const._ Why, what if he shou'd wear it now and then a Day, so he gave good Security to bring it home again at Night? _Lady Brute._ Small Security, I fancy, might serve for that. One might venture to take his Word. _Const._ Then, where's the Injury to the Owner? _Lady Brute._ 'Tis an Injury to him, if he think it one. For if Happiness be seated in the Mind, Unhappiness must be so too. _Const._ Here I close with you, Madam, and draw my conclusive Argument from your own Position: If the Injury lie in the Fancy, there needs nothing but Secrecy to prevent the Wrong. _Lady Brute._ [_Going._] A surer way to prevent it, is to hear no more Arguments in its behalf. _Const._ [_Following her._] But, Madam---- _Lady Brute._ But, Sir, 'tis my turn to be discreet now, and not suffer too long a Visit. _Const._ [_Catching her Hand._] By Heaven, you shall not stir, till you give me hopes that I shall see you again at some more convenient Time and Place! _Lady Brute._ I give you just hopes enough----[_Breaking from him._] to get loose from you: and that's all I can afford you at this time. [_Exit running._ _~Constant~ solus._