_Wid._ Why, Tatty, you must know my late lord--how prettily that sounds, my late lord! But I say, my late Lord Frible was generosity--I pressed him there, and whenever you, by my order, had told him stories to my son-in-law's disadvantage, in his rage and resentment I (whose interest lay otherwise) always fell on my knees to implore his pardon, and with tears, sighs, and importunities for him, prevailed against him; besides this, you know, I had, when I pleased, fits--fits are a mighty help in the government of a good-natured man; but in an ill-natured fellow have a care of 'em--he'll hate you for natural infirmities, will remember your face in its distortion, and not value your return of beauty. _Tat._ O rare madam! your ladyship's a great headpiece; but now, dear madam, is the hard task, if I may take the liberty to say it--to enjoy all freedoms, and seem to abstain, to manage the number of pretenders, and keep the disobliged from prating---- _Wid._ Never fear, Tattleaid; while you have riches, if you affront one to abuse, you can give hopes to another to defend you. These maxims I have been laying up all my husband's life-time, for we must provide against calamities. _Tat._ But now, madam, a fine young gentleman with a red coat, that dances---- _Wid._ You may be sure the happy man (if it be in fate that there is an happy man to make me an unhappy woman) shall not be an old one again. Age and youth married, is the cruelty in Dryden's _Virgil_, where Mezentius ties the dead and living together. I'm sure I was tied to a dead man many a long day before I durst bury him----But the day is now my own. Yet now I think on't, Tattleaid, be sure to keep an obstinate shyness to all our old acquaintance. Let 'em talk of favours if they please; if we grant 'em, still they'll grow tyrants to us; if we discard 'em, the chaste and innocent will not believe we could have confidence to do it, were it so; and the wise, if they believe it, will applaud our prudence. _Tat._ Ay, madam--I believe, madam--I speak, madam, but my humble sense--Mr. Cabinet would marry you. _Wid._ Marry me! No, Tattleaid. He that is so mean as to marry a woman after an affair with her, will be so base as to upbraid that very weakness. He that marries his wench will use her like his wench.--Such a pair must sure live in a secret mutual scorn of each other; and wedlock is hell if at least one side does not love, as it would be Heaven if both did; and I believe it so much Heaven, as to think it was never enjoyed in this world. _Enter a_ WOMAN. _Wom._ A gentleman to Mrs. Tattleaid----[_Exit_ TATTLEAID.