Horn. First, that you may be private, let me lock this door and that, and I’ll wait upon you presently.

Lady Fid. No, sir, shut ’em only, and your lips for ever; for we must trust you as much as our women.

Horn. You know all vanity’s killed in me; I have no occasion for talking.

Lady Fid. Now, ladies, supposing we had drank each of us two bottles, let us speak the truth of our hearts.

Mrs. Dain. and Mrs. Squeam. Agreed.

Lady 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.

Lady 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. ’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. Dain. 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.

Lady 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.

Lady 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.

Lady Fid. Ay, we have all reason to curse ’em.

Horn. For my sake, ladies?

Lady Fid. No, for our own; for the first spoils all young gallants’ industry.