_Oliv._ As a drayman. _Fid._ Has wit. _Oliv._ He rails at all mankind. _Fid._ And undoubted courage. _Oliv._ Like the hangman's; can murder a man when his hands are tied. He has cruelty indeed; which is no more courage, than his railing is wit. _Man._ Thus women, and men like women, are too hard for us, when they think we do not hear 'em: and reputation, like other mistresses, is never true to a man in his absence. [_Aside._ _Fid._ He is-- _Oliv._ Prithee, no more of him: I thought I had satisfied you enough before, that he could never be a rival for you to apprehend. And you need not be more assured of my aversion to him, than by the last testimony of my love to you; which I am ready to give you. Come, my soul, this way. [_Pulls_ FIDELIA. _Fid._ But, madam, what could make you dissemble love to him, when 'twas so hard a thing for you; and flatter his love to you? _Oliv._ That which makes all the world flatter and dissemble, 'twas his money: I had a real passion for that. Yet I loved not that so well, as for it to take him; for as soon as I had his money I hastened his departure like a wife, who when she has made the most of a dying husband's breath, pulls away his pillow. _Man._ Damned money! its master's potent rival still; and like a saucy pimp, corrupts itself the mistress it procures for us. [_Aside._ _Oliv._ But I did not think with you, my life, to pass my time in talking. Come hither, come; yet stay, till I have locked a door in the other room, that may chance to let us in some interruption; which reciting poets or losing gamesters fear not more than I at this time do. [_Exit._ _Fid._ Well, I hope you are now satisfied, sir, and will be gone to think of your revenge? _Man._ No, I am not satisfied, and must stay to be revenged. _Fid._ How, sir? You'll use no violence to her, I hope, and forfeit your own life, to take away hers? that were no revenge. _Man._ No, no, you need not fear: my revenge shall only be upon her honour, not her life. _Fid._ How, sir? her honour? O Heavens! consider, sir, she has no honour. D'ye call that revenge? can you think of such a thing? But reflect, sir, how she hates and loathes you. _Man._ Yes, so much she hates me, that it would be a revenge sufficient to make her accessory to my pleasure, and then let her know it. _Fid._ No, sir, no; to be revenged on her now, were to disappoint her. Pray, sir, let us begone. [_Pulls_ MANLY. _Man._ Hold off! What, you are my rival then! and therefore you shall stay, and keep the door for me, whilst I go in for you; but when I'm gone, if you dare to stir off from this very board, or breathe the least murmuring accent, I'll cut her throat first; and if you love her, you will not venture her life.--Nay, then I'll cut your throat too; and I know you love your own life at least. _Fid._ But, sir; good sir. _Man._ Not a word more, lest I begin my revenge on her by killing you. _Fid._ But are you sure 'tis revenge that makes you do this? how can it be?