Lord _Town._ Why, at best, women that lose their money, and men that win it! Or, perhaps, men that are voluntary bubbles at one game, in hopes a Lady will give them fair play at another. Then that unavoidable mixture with known rakes, conceal'd thieves, and Sharpers in embroidery----or what, to me, is still more shocking, that herd of familiar chattering crop-ear'd Coxcombs, who are so often like Monkeys, there would be no knowing them asunder, but that their tails hang from their head, and the monkey's grows where it should do. Lady _Town._ And a Husband must give eminent proof of his sense, that thinks their powder-puffs dangerous. Lord _Town._ Their being fools, Madam, is not always the Husband's security: Or if it were, fortune, sometimes, gives them advantages might make a thinking woman tremble. Lady _Town._ What do you mean! Lord _Town._ That Women, sometimes, lose more than they are able to pay; and if a creditor be a little pressing, the Lady may be reduc'd to try if, instead of gold, the Gentleman will accept of a trinket. Lady _Town._ My Lord you grow scurrilous; you'll make me hate you. I'll have you to know, I keep company with the politest people in town, and the Assemblies I frequent are full of such. Lord _Town._ So are the Churches----now and then. Lady _Town._ My friends frequent them too, at well as the Assemblies. Lord _Town._ Yes, and would do it oftner, if a groom of the chambers there were allowed to furnish cards to the company. Lady _Town._ I see what you drive at all this while; you would lay an imputation on my fame, to cover your own avarice! I might take any pleasures I find, that were not expensive. Lord _Town._ Have a care, Madam; don't let me think you only value your chastity, to make me reproachable for not indulging you in every thing else, that's vicious----I, Madam, have a reputation too, to guard, that's dear to me, as yours----The follies of an ungovern'd wife may make the wisest man uneasy; but 'tis his own fault, if ever they make him contemptible. Lady _Town._ My Lord----you would make a woman mad! Lord _Town._ You'd make a man a fool. Lady _Town._ If Heav'n has made you otherwise, that won't be in my power. Lord _Town._ Whatever may be in your inclination, Madam; I'll prevent you making me a Beggar at least. Lady _Town._ A Beggar! _Crœsus_! I'm out of Patience! I won't come home 'till four to-morrow morning. Lord _Town._ That may be, Madam; but I'll order the doors to be lock'd at twelve. Lady _Town._ Then I won't come home 'till to-morrow night. Lord _Town._ Then, Madam;----You shall never come home again. [_Exit Lord ~Town~._