L. _Rod._ Rather all Joys expire, where Love commences; when that deluding Passion once takes root, we grow insensible, ill-bred, intolerable, neglecting Dress and Air, and Conversation; to fondle an odd Wretch, that caus'd our ruin: No, give me the outward Gallantries of Love, the Poetry, the Balls, the Serenades, where I may Laugh and Toy, and humour Apish Cringers, with secret Pride to raise my Sexes Envy, and lead pretending Fops a Faiery Dance. _Col._ My own Humour to a Hair! How I admire such generous sprightly Virtue, your Reasoning, Madam, darts amazing brightness, 'where groveling Souls want courage to think freely, ay, Liberty's the Source of all Enjoyments, a nourishing Delight, innate and durable. I love the Harmony of Foreign Courts; your downright _English_ Women are meer Mopes, sit dumb like Clocks that speak but once an Hour, supinely Grave and insolently Sullen, nor Smile but on good terms to Laugh, at us for Life: But other Climates animate more warmly; Sexes alike are free, reciprocally gay, and Pleasures are persu'd without Reflection, if Principle or Fear refuse us Love; for I'm the tenderest of a Lady's Honour, the Fair One still has tantalizing Charms, her tuneful Voice, her graceful, easie Movement, her lively Converse, happy turn of Thought, Language polite, keen Wit, fineness of Argument, but Marriage turns the Edge of all Society. L. _Rod._ Pray, _Collonel_, how long have you taken up this Resolution? _Col_. I doat upon the Sex, admire their heav'nly Form, like beauteous Temples built by sacred Hands, where their bright Souls as Deities inhabit; but shou'd Love's Queen, Celestial _Citharea_, descend in all her elegance of Beauty, the study'd Care of the officious Graces, with Wreaths of Jewels glittering round her Temples, her flowing Locks dispos'd in artful Circles, losely attir'd, and on a Down of Roses, with laughing Cupids hov'ring round the Bed.-- L. _Rod_. But _Collonel_. _Col_ A wondrous lovely Mien, kind melting Airs, soft snowy Breasts that pant with am'rous Sighs, Eyes lauguishing that steal forth welcome glances; Cheeks rip'ning, glowing, kindling, ravishing. _To be confin'd, wou'd deaden all her Charms, And Matrimony fright me from her Arms_. L. _Rod_. Good _Collonel_ check a while this feign'd Career; for in describing her you wou'd refuse, you're in a Rapture, and quite out of Breath; don't depend too much on your fancy'd Prowess, some mortal Dames, less beauteous than a Goddess, have exercis'd and tam'd the boldest Heroes. _Enter Mrs_. Lovejoy. Mrs. _Lov_. Madam, the Countess of _Circumference_, my Lady _May-pole_, and my Lady _Bob-tail_ are just lighting at the Gate. L. _Rod_. Pray sup with me _Collonel_, and lets finish this Argument, I'm fond of disputing with a Person that talks well. _Col_. [_aside _] She's peek'd, and my design must prove successful. _Pride keeps me off, but Nature smooths my way; For what her Tongue wou'd hide, her Eyes betray_. [_Exit._