_Mrs. Pinch._ Yes, indeed, but I would, bud, now. _Pinch._ Well, you are a good girl then. Come, let me lock you up in your chamber, till I come back; and be sure you come not within three strides of the window when I am gone, for I have a spy in the street.--[_Exit_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE, PINCHWIFE _locks the door._] At least, 'tis fit she think so. If we do not cheat women, they'll cheat us, and fraud may be justly used with secret enemies, of which a wife is the most dangerous; and he that has a handsome one to keep, and a frontier town, must provide against treachery, rather than open force. Now I have secured all within, I'll deal with the foe without, with false intelligence. [_Holds up the letter. Exit._ SCENE III.--HORNER'S _Lodging_ _Enter_ HORNER _and_ Quack. _Quack._ Well, sir, how fadges[78] the new design? have you not the luck of all your brother projectors, to deceive only yourself at last? _Horn._ No, good domine doctor, I deceive you, it seems, and others too; for the grave matrons, and old, rigid husbands think me as unfit for love, as they are; but their wives, sisters, and daughters know, some of 'em, better things already. _Quack._ Already! _Horn._ Already, I say. Last night I was drunk with half-a-dozen of your civil persons, as you call 'em, and people of honour, and so was made free of their society and dressing-rooms for ever hereafter; and am already come to the privileges of sleeping upon their pallets, warming smocks, tying shoes and garters, and the like, doctor, already, already, doctor. _Quack._ You have made good use of your time, sir. _Horn._ I tell thee, I am now no more interruption to 'em, when they sing, or talk bawdy, than a little squab French page who speaks no English. _Quack._ But do civil persons and women of honour drink, and sing bawdy songs? _Horn._ O, amongst friends, amongst friends. For your bigots in honour are just like those in religion; they fear the eye of the world more than the eye of Heaven; and think there is no virtue, but railing at vice, and no sin, but giving scandal. They rail at a poor, little, kept player, and keep themselves some young, modest pulpit comedian to be privy to their sins in their closets, not to tell 'em of them in their chapels. _Quack._ Nay, the truth on't is, priests, amongst the women now, have quite got the better of us lay-confessors, physicians. _Horn._ And they are rather their patients; but-- _Enter_ Lady FIDGET, _looking about her._ Now we talk of women of honour, here comes one. Step behind the screen there, and but observe, if I have not particular privileges with the women of reputation already, doctor, already. [Quack _retires._ _Lady Fid._ Well, Horner, am not I a woman of honour? you see, I'm as good as my word. _Horn._ And you shall see, madam, I'll not be behindhand with you in honour; and I'll be as good as my word too, if you please but to withdraw into the next room.