_Man._ Not but I know that generally no man can be a great enemy but under the name of friend; and if you are a cuckold, it is your friend only that makes you so, for your enemy is not admitted to your house: if you are cheated in your fortune, 'tis your friend that does it, for your enemy is not made your trustee: if your honour or good name be injured, 'tis your friend that does it still, because your enemy is not believed against you. Therefore, I rather choose to go where honest, downright barbarity is professed, where men devour one another like generous hungry lions and tigers, not like crocodiles; where they think the devil white, of our complexion; and I am already so far an Indian. But if your weak faith doubts this miracle of a woman, come along with me, and believe; and thou wilt find her so handsome, that thou, who art so much my friend, wilt have a mind to lie with her, and so wilt not fail to discover what her faith and thine is to me. When we're in love, the great adversity, Our friends and mistresses at once we try. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I.--OLIVIA'S _Lodging._ _Enter_ OLIVIA, ELIZA, _and_ LETTICE. _Oliv._ Ah, cousin, what a world 'tis we live in! I am so weary of it. _Eliza._ Truly, cousin, I can find no fault with it, but that we cannot always live in't, for I can never be weary of it. _Oliv._ O hideous! you cannot be in earnest sure, when you say you like the filthy world. _Eliza._ You cannot be in earnest sure, when you say you dislike it. _Oliv._ You are a very censorious creature, I find. _Eliza._ I must confess, I think we women as often discover where we love by railing, as men when they lie by their swearing; and the world is but a constant keeping gallant, whom we fail not to quarrel with when anything crosses us, yet cannot part with't for our hearts. _Let._ A gallant indeed, madam, whom ladies first make jealous, and then quarrel with it for being so; for if, by her indiscretion, a lady be talked of for a man, she cries presently, "'Tis a censorious world!" if by her vanity the intrigue be found out, "'Tis a prying malicious world!" if by her over-fondness the gallant proves unconstant, "'Tis a false world!" and if by her niggardliness the chambermaid tells, "'Tis a perfidious world!" But that, I'm sure, your ladyship cannot say of the world yet, as bad as 'tis. _Oliv._ But I may say, "'Tis a very impertinent world!"--Hold your peace.--And, cousin, if the world be a gallant, 'tis such a one as is my aversion. Pray name it no more. _Eliza._ But is it possible the world, which has such variety of charms for other women, can have none for you? Let's see--first, what d'ye think of dressing and fine clothes? _Oliv._ Dressing! Fy, fy, 'tis my aversion.--[_To_ LETTICE.] But come hither, you dowdy; methinks you might have opened this toure better; O hideous! I cannot suffer it! D'ye see how't sits? _Eliza._ Well enough, cousin, if dressing be your aversion.