_Bor._ I could accuse the gayetie of your wardrobe, And prodigall embroderies under which Rich Sattens, Plushes, cloath of Silver, dare Not shew their owne complexions, your jewells Able to burne out the Spectators eyes, And shew like Bonefires on you by the tapers, Something might here be spar'd, which safely of Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth, Shines from the soule, and drawes up just admirers, I could urge something more: _Are._ Pray doe I like Your homilie of thrifte. _Bo._ I could wish Madam You would not game so much. _Are._ A gamster too? _Bor._ But are not come to that repentance yet, Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit, You looke not through the subtiltie of Cards, And mysteries of Dice, nor can you save Charge with the boxe, buy petticotes and purles, And keepe your familie by the precious income, Nor doe I wish you should, my poorest servant Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire Purchasd beneath my honour, you make play Not a Pastime but a tyrannie, and vexe Your selfe and my estate by't. _Are._ Good, proceed. _Bor._ Another game you have, which consumes more Your fame than purse, your revells in the night, Your meetings cal'd the Ball, to which appeare, As to the Court of Pleasure, all your gallants, And Ladies thither bound by a Subpena Of _Venus_, and small _Cupids_ high displeasure, Tis but the family of love translated Into more costly sinne, there was a play on't, And had the Poet not beene brib'd to a modest Expression of your Anticke gambolls in't, Some darkes had beene discovered, and the deeds too, In time he may repent and make some blush, To see the second part danc'd on the Stage; My thoughts acquit you for dishonoring me By any foule act, but the vertuous know, Tis not enough to cleare our selves, but the Suspitions of our shame. _Are._ Have you concluded Your lecture? _Bor._ I ha done, and howsoever My language my appeare to you, it carries No other than my faire and just intent To your delights without curbe to their modestie And noble freedome. _Are._ Ile not be so tedious, In my reply, but without arte or elegance, Assure you I keepe still my first opinion, And though you vay'le, your avaritious meaning With hansome names of modesty, and thrift, I finde you would intrench and wound the liberty I was borne with, were my desires unpriviledged By example, while my judgement thought 'em fit, You ought not to oppose, but when the practise And tract of every honourable Lady, Authorise me, I take it great injustice, To have my pleasures circumscribed, and taught me, A narrow minded husband is a theefe To his owne fame, and his preferment too, He shuts his parts and fortunes from the world. While from the popular vote and knowledge men Rise to imployment in the state. _Bor._ I have No great ambition to buy preferment At so deare rate. _Are._ Nor I to sell my honour, By living poore and sparingly, I was not Bred in that ebbe of fortune, and my fate Shall not compell me too't.