_Aunt._ All he says is, methinks, so like a sermon. _Niece._ All he speaks savours of romance. _Aunt._ Romance, niece? Mr. Pounce! what savours of romance? _Niece._ No, I mean his friend, the accomplished Mr. Clerimont. _Aunt._ Fie, for one of your years to commend a young fellow! _Niece._ One of my years is mightily governed by example! You did not dislike Mr. Pounce. _Aunt._ What, censorious too? I find there is no trusting you out of the house--A moment's fresh air does but make you still the more in love with strangers, and despise your own relations. _Niece._ I am certainly by the power of an enchantment placed among you, but I hope I, this morning, employed one to seek adventures, and break the charm. _Aunt._ Vapours, Biddy, indeed! Nothing but vapours. Cousin Humphry shall break the charm. _Niece._ Name him not--Call me still Biddy rather than name that brute. [_Exeunt_ AUNT _and_ NIECE. _Enter_ CAPTAIN CLERIMONT _and_ POUNCE. _Cler._ A perfect Quixote in petticoats! I tell thee, Pounce, she governs herself wholly by romance--it has got into her very blood. She starts by rule, and blushes by example. Could I but have produced one instance of a lady's complying at first sight, I should have gained her promise on the spot. How am I bound to curse the cold constitutions of the Philocleas and Statiras? I am undone for want of precedents. _Pounce._ I am sure I laboured hard to favour your conference, and plied the old woman all the while with something that tickled either her vanity or her covetousness; I considered all the stocks, Old and New Company, her own complexion and youth, partners for sword-blades, Chamber of London, banks for charity, and mine adventures, till she told me I had the repute of the most facetious man that ever came to Garraway's[91]--For you must know public knaves and stock-jobbers pass for wits at her end of the town, as common cheats and gamesters do at yours. _Cler._ I pity the drudgery you have gone through; but what's next to be done towards getting my pretty heroine? _Pounce._ What should next be done in ordinary method of things? You have seen her; the next regular approach is that you cannot subsist a moment without sending forth musical complaints of your misfortune by way of serenade. _Cler._ I can nick you there, sir. I have a scribbling army friend that has writ a triumphant, rare, noisy song in honour of the late victory, that will hit the nymph's fantasque to a hair. I'll get everything ready as fast as possible. _Pounce._ While you are playing upon the fort, I'll be within and observe what execution you do, and give you intelligence accordingly. _Cler._ You must have an eye upon Mr. Humphry while I feed the vanity of Parthenissa; for I am so experienced in these matters that I know none but coxcombs think to win a woman by any desert of their own--No, it must be done rather by complying with some prevailing humour of your mistress, than exerting any good quality in yourself.