_Dor._ Yet he must be buzzing amongst 'em still, like other beetle-headed liquorish drones. Avoid 'em, and hate 'em, as they hate you. _Horn._ Because I do hate 'em, and would hate 'em yet more, I'll frequent 'em. You may see by marriage, nothing makes a man hate a woman more than her constant conversation. In short, I converse with 'em, as you do with rich fools, to laugh at 'em and use 'em ill. _Dor._ But I would no more sup with women, unless I could lie with 'em, than sup with a rich coxcomb, unless I could cheat him. _Horn._ Yes, I have known thee sup with a fool for his drinking; if he could set out your hand that way only, you were satisfied, and if he were a wine-swallowing mouth, 'twas enough. _Har._ Yes, a man drinks often with a fool, as he tosses with a marker, only to keep his hand in use. But do the ladies drink? _Horn._ Yes, sir; and I shall have the pleasure at least of laying 'em flat with a bottle, and bring as much scandal that way upon 'em as formerly t'other. _Har._ Perhaps you may prove as weak a brother among 'em that way as t'other. _Dor._ Foh! drinking with women is as unnatural as scolding with 'em. But 'tis a pleasure of decayed fornicators, and the basest way of quenching love. _Har._ Nay, 'tis drowning love, instead of quenching it. But leave us for civil women too! _Dor._ Ay, when he can't be the better for 'em. We hardly pardon a man that leaves his friend for a wench, and that's a pretty lawful call. _Horn._ Faith, I would not leave you for 'em, if they would not drink. _Dor._ Who would disappoint his company at Lewis's for a gossiping? _Har._ Foh! Wine and women, good apart, together are as nauseous as sack and sugar. But hark you, sir, before you go, a little of your advice; an old maimed general, when unfit for action, is fittest for counsel. I have other designs upon women than eating and drinking with them; I am in love with Sparkish's mistress, whom he is to marry to-morrow: now how shall I get her? _Enter_ SPARKISH, _looking about._ _Horn._ Why, here comes one will help you to her. _Har._ He! he, I tell you, is my rival, and will hinder my love. _Horn._ No; a foolish rival and a jealous husband assist their rival's designs; for they are sure to make their women hate them, which is the first step to their love for another man. _Har._ But I cannot come near his mistress but in his company. _Horn._ Still the better for you; for fools are most easily cheated when they themselves are accessories: and he is to be bubbled of his mistress as of his money, the common mistress, by keeping him company. _Spark._ Who is that that is to be bubbled? Faith, let me snack; I han't met with a bubble since Christmas. 'Gad, I think bubbles are like their brother woodcocks, go out with the cold weather. _Har._ A pox! he did not hear all, I hope. [_Apart to_ HORNER.