_Horn._ And cry, Horner's coming to carry you away. I am only afraid 'twill not be believed. You told 'em it was by an English-French disaster, and an English-French chirurgeon, who has given me at once not only a cure, but an antidote for the future against that damned malady, and that worse distemper, love, and all other women's evils? _Quack._ Your late journey into France has made it the more credible, and your being here a fortnight before you appeared in public, looks as if you apprehended the shame, which I wonder you do not. Well, I have been hired by young gallants to belie 'em t'other way; but you are the first would be thought a man unfit for women. _Horn._ Dear Mr. Doctor, let vain rogues be contented only to be thought abler men than they are, generally 'tis all the pleasure they have; but mine lies another way. _Quack._ You take, methinks, a very preposterous way to it, and as ridiculous as if we operators in physic should put forth bills to disparage our medicaments, with hopes to gain customers. _Horn._ Doctor, there are quacks in love as well as physic, who get but the fewer and worse patients for their boasting; a good name is seldom got by giving it one's self; and women, no more than honour, are compassed by bragging. Come, come, Doctor, the wisest lawyer never discovers the merits of his cause till the trial; the wealthiest man conceals his riches, and the cunning gamester his play. Shy husbands and keepers, like old rooks, are not to be cheated but by a new unpractised trick: false friendship will pass now no more than false dice upon 'em; no, not in the city. _Enter_ Boy. _Boy._ There are two ladies and a gentleman coming up. [_Exit._ _Horn._ A pox! some unbelieving sisters of my former acquaintance, who, I am afraid, expect their sense should be satisfied of the falsity of the report. No--this formal fool and women! _Enter_ Sir JASPER FIDGET, Lady FIDGET, _and_ Mrs. DAINTY FIDGET. _Quack._ His wife and sister. _Sir Jasp._ My coach breaking just now before your door, sir, I look upon as an occasional reprimand to me, sir, for not kissing your hands, sir, since your coming out of France, sir; and so my disaster, sir, has been my good fortune, sir; and this is my wife and sister, sir. _Horn._ What then, sir? _Sir Jasp._ My lady, and sister, sir.--Wife, this is Master Horner. _Lady Fid._ Master Horner, husband! _Sir Jasp._ My lady, my Lady Fidget, sir. _Horn._ So, sir. _Sir Jasp._ Won't you be acquainted with her, sir?--[_Aside._] So, the report is true, I find, by his coldness or aversion to the sex; but I'll play the wag with him.--[_Aloud._] Pray salute my wife, my lady, sir. _Horn._ I will kiss no man's wife, sir, for him, sir; I have taken my eternal leave, sir, of the sex already, sir. _Sir Jasp._ [_Aside._] Ha! ha! ha! I'll plague him yet.--[_Aloud._] Not know my wife, sir?