Col. Hah!

La. Rod. No Libertine, who infamously vile, burlesques the happiest Order of Mankind; yet when some Hit shall probably present, can play the Courtier, to promote his Int’rest, and fondly press what his Soul starts to think on.

Col. [Aside.] The Woman speaks truth, by Jupiter.

La. Rod. In short, he’s humble too, so very humble, he’s shockt, and startles at his high-plac’d Love:  He has Wit and Breeding, Virtue, Birth and Fortune, and yet no spark of Pride appears throughout him, but when I kindle it with my Commands; nor does he serve, as ’tis his Duty only, but smiles, prepares, is eager for my Orders, and flies to the Obedience I require.

Col. Take him, take him.  Madam, you have found the only Man to fit your purpose—­I wou’dn’t bate one Inch of my Prerogative for ne’er a mony’d Petticoat in Europe.

La. Rod. Collonel, these flirting Humours misbecome you, and lighten not, but aggravate your Baseness.  A Thing how much abhorr’d must he appear, who villanously shall attempt, a Lady, propose, and solemnly pursue a Conquest, when he, long since, by strictest Oaths and Promises, has vow’d, been sworn and plighted to another.

Col. You but surmise, as yet I’ve made no Contract; you were the only Idol of my Soul, nor did I harbour the least Thought of others, ’till your Pride us’d me with such poor Contempt, ’twas not sufficient to reject my service, but you must bring a Fop to mock my Passion, as if I had been an Animal for sport.

La. Rod. Suppose it true; [Aside.] my Pride wou’d fain suppose it—­ suppose I us’d you ill too, nay derided you, cou’d you not bear a Flirt from one you lov’d; had you conceiv’d a bright and lasting Flame, and not a Vapour, flashing and extinguish’d, you’d ha’ born ten times more.  Were I a Man, that knew my strength of Reason, had Sense to ruminate on Women’s Frailties, I’d laugh at all their Spleen, despise their Vapours, and since a certain Blessing’s the Reward, receive their Humours with unmov’d Philosophy; but to fly off e’er you had well propounded, to leave your Mistress ’cause she try’d your Courage, was pusillanimous, and few’ll suppose Valour in Arms breeds Cowardice in Love.

Col. [Aside.] She has struck me dumb, and I’m her Fool again, must tell her all, and supplicate her pardon, resign my self entirely to her Will, and trust to her to use me as she pleases——­Madam——. [Fault’ring.

La. Rod. Collonel!

    Enter Sir Harry.

Sir Har. Ha, ha, ha, I never knew a Scene more nicely acted; to see two Lovers pet, and thwart, and wrangle, when they are just expiring for each other.

La. Rod. [Aside.] Has he observ’d us too; how I’m confus’d?

Sir Har. But come, come, you have brought the Play to a conclusion; an Audience wou’d be tir’d to hear more on’t.