L. _Ful_. Wise Men knowing this, should not expose their Infirmities, by marrying us young Wenches; who, without Instruction, find how we are impos’d upon. _Enter Fiddles playing, Mr_. Bearjest _and_ Diana _dancing_; Bredwel, Noisey, &c. L. _Ful_. So, Cousin, I see you have found the way to Mrs. _Dy’s_ Heart. _Bea_. Who, I, my dear Lady Aunt? I never knew but one way to a Woman’s Heart, and that road I have not yet travelled; for my Uncle, who is a wise Man, says Matrimony is a sort of a--kind of a--as it were, d’ye see, of a Voyage, which every Man of Fortune is bound to make one time or other: and Madam--I am, as it were--a bold Adventurer. _Dia_. And are you sure, Sir, you will venture on me? _Bea_. Sure!--I thank you for that--as if I could not believe my Uncle; For in this case a young Heir has no more to do, but to come and see, settle, marry, and use you scurvily. _Dia_. How, Sir, scurvily? _Bea_. Very scurvily, that is to say, be always fashionably drunk, despise the Tyranny of your Bed, and reign absolutely--keep a Seraglio of Women, and let my Bastard Issue inherit; be seen once a Quarter, or so, with you in the Park for Countenance, where we loll two several ways in the gilt Coach like _Janus_, or a Spread-Eagle. _Dia_. And do you expect I shou’d be honest the while? _Bea_. Heaven forbid, not I, I have not met with that Wonder in all my Travels. L. _Ful_. How, Sir, not an honest Woman? _Bea_. Except my Lady Aunt--Nay, as I am a Gentleman and the first of my Family--you shall pardon me, here--cuff me, cuff me soundly. [_Kneels to her_. _Enter_ Gayman _richly drest_. _Gay_. This Love’s a damn’d bewitching thing--Now though I should lose my Assignation with my Devil, I cannot hold from seeing _Julia_ to night: hah--there, and with a Fop at her Feet.--Oh Vanity of Woman! [_Softly pulls her_. L. _Ful_. Oh, Sir, you’re welcome from _Northamptonshire_. _Gay_. Hum--surely she knows the Cheat. [_Aside_. L. _Ful_. You are so gay, you save me, Sir, the labour of asking if your Uncle be alive. _Gay_. Pray Heaven she have not found my Circumstances! But if she have, Confidence must assist me-- [_Aside_. --And, Madam, you’re too gay for me to inquire Whether you are that _Julia_ which I left you? L. _Ful_. Oh, doubtless, Sir-- _Gay_. But why the Devil do I ask--Yes, you are still the same; one of those hoiting Ladies, that love nothing like Fool and Fiddle; Crouds of Fops; had rather be publickly, though dully, flatter’d, than privately ador’d: you love to pass for the Wit of the Company, by talking all and loud. L. _Ful_. Rail on, till you have made me think my Virtue at so low Ebb, it should submit to you. _Gay_. What--I’m not discreet enough; I’ll babble all in my next high Debauch, Boast of your Favours, and describe your Charms To every wishing Fool.