_Man._ No disputing, or advice, sir, you have reason to know I am unalterable. Go therefore presently, and write her a note, to inquire if her assignation with you holds; and if not to be at her own house, where else; and be importunate to gain admittance to her to-night. Let your messenger, ere he deliver your letter, inquire first if her husband be gone out. Go, 'tis now almost six of the clock; I expect you back here before seven, with leave to see her then. Go, do this dextrously, and expect the performance of my last night's promise, never to part with you. _Fid._ Ay, sir; but will you be sure to remember that? _Man._ Did I ever break my word? Go, no more replies, or doubts. [_Exit_ FIDELIA. _Enter_ FREEMAN. Where hast thou been? _Free._ In the next room with my Lord Plausible and Novel. _Man._ Ay, we came hither, because 'twas a private house; but with thee indeed no house can be private, for thou hast that pretty quality of the familiar fops of the town, who, in an eating-house, always keep company with all people in't but those they came with. _Free._ I went into their room, but to keep them, and my own fool the squire, out of your room; but you shall be peevish now, because you have no money. But why the devil won't you write to those we were speaking of? Since your modesty, or your spirit, will not suffer you to speak to 'em, to lend you money, why won't you try 'em at last that way? _Man._ Because I know 'em already, and can bear want better than denials, nay, than obligations. _Free._ Deny you! they cannot. All of 'em have been your intimate friends. _Man._ No, they have been people only I have obliged particularly. _Free._ Very well; therefore you ought to go to 'em the rather, sure. _Man._ No, no. Those you have obliged most, most certainly avoid you, when you can oblige 'em no longer; and they take your visits like so many duns. Friends, like mistresses, are avoided for obligations past. _Free._ Pshaw! but most of 'em are your relations; men of great fortune and honour. _Man._ Yes; but relations have so much honour as to think poverty taints the blood, and disown their wanting kindred; believing, I suppose, that as riches at first make a gentleman, the want of 'em degrades him. But damn 'em! now I am poor, I'll anticipate their contempt, and disown them. _Free._ But you have many a female acquaintance whom you have been liberal to, who may have a heart to refund to you a little, if you would ask it: they are not all Olivias. _Man._ Damn thee! how couldst thou think of such a thing? I would as soon rob my footman of his wages. Besides, 'twere in vain too: for a wench is like a box in an ordinary, receives all people's money easily, but there is no getting, nay, shaking any out again; and he that fills it is sure never to keep the key.