_Horn._ You know all vanity's killed in me; I have no occasion for talking. _L. Fid._ Now, ladies, supposing we had drank each of us our two bottles, let us speak the truth of our hearts. _Mrs. Dain. and Mrs. Squeam._ Agreed. _L. Fid._ By this brimmer, for truth is nowhere else to be found--[_Aside to_ HORNER.] not in thy heart, false man! _Horn._ You have found me a true man, I'm sure. [_Aside to_ Lady FIDGET. _L. Fid._ [_Aside to_ HORNER.] Not every way.--But let us sit and be merry. [_Sings._ Why should our damned tyrants oblige us to live On the pittance of pleasure which they only give? We must not rejoice With wine and with noise: In vain we must wake in a dull bed alone, Whilst to our warm rival the bottle they're gone. Then lay aside charms, And take up these arms.[84] 'Tis wine only gives 'em their courage and wit; Because we live sober, to men we submit. If for beauties you'd pass, Take a lick of the glass, 'Twill mend your complexions, and when they are gone, The best red we have is the red of the grape: Then, sisters, lay't on, And damn a good shape. _Mrs. Fain._ Dear brimmer! Well, in token of our openness and plain-dealing, let us throw our masks over our heads. _Horn._ So, 'twill come to the glasses anon. [_Aside._ _Mrs. Squeam._ Lovely brimmer! let me enjoy him first. _L. Fid._ No, I never part with a gallant till I've tried him. Dear brimmer! that makest our husbands short-sighted. _Mrs. Dain._ And our bashful gallants bold. _Mrs. Squeam._ And, for want of a gallant, the butler lovely in our eyes.--Drink, eunuch. _L. Fid._ Drink, thou representative of a husband.--Damn a husband! _Mrs. Dain._ And, as it were a husband, an old keeper. _Mrs. Squeam._ And an old grandmother. _Horn._ And an English bawd, and a French surgeon. _L. Fid._ Ay, we have all reason to curse 'em. _Horn._ For my sake, ladies? _L. Fid._ No, for our own; for the first spoils all young gallants' industry. _Mrs. Dain._ And the other's art makes 'em bold only with common women. _Mrs. Squeam._ And rather run the hazard of the vile distemper amongst them, than of a denial amongst us. _Mrs. Dain._ The filthy toads choose mistresses now as they do stuffs, for having been fancied and worn by others. _Mrs. Squeam._ For being common and cheap. _L. Fid._ Whilst women of quality, like the richest stuffs, lie untumbled, and unasked for. _Horn._ Ay, neat, and cheap, and new, often they think best. _Mrs. Dain._ No, sir, the beasts will be known by a mistress longer than by a suit. _Mrs. Squeam._ And 'tis not for cheapness neither.