La. _Rod_. What then? Mrs. _Lov_. They ought to lay aside Affectation and Impertinence, and come to a right understanding i' th' matter. La. _Rod._ But prithee, my Dear, what fine Things d'you conceive there are in Love? Mrs. _Lov_. I wou'd conceive what fine Things there are in Love; in short, Madam, you may dissemble like the _French Hugonots,_ that were starving in their own Country, and pretended to fly hither for Religion: But I that have the same Circulations with your Ladiship, know that ev'ry Woman feels a _Je ne sçay quoy_ for an agreeable Fellow; nay more, that Love is irresistable; how many Fortunes have marry'd Troopers, and Yeomen o'the Guard? We are all made of the same Mould; nay I heard of a Lady that was so violently scorcht at the sight of a handsome Waterman, she flung her self sprawling into the _Thames_, only that he might stretch out his Oar, and take her up again. La. _Rod_. There are Women Fools to a strange degree; but have you, Cousin, seen any Object so amiable to merit that ridiculous Condescension. Mrs. _Lov_. I have seen a great many young Fellows, Madam, and do ev'ry Day see more young Fellows that I cou'd like very well to play at _Piquet_ with; and if your Ladiship has sworn to die a Maid, recommend one of your Admirers to me, and it shan't be my Fault, if in a few Months I don't produce you a very pretty Bantling to inherit your Estate. _Enter Major_ Bramble. _Bram_. (_Aside_.) Now must I screw my self into more submissive Forms than a hungry Poet at the lower end of a Lord's Table, when he has more Wit than all the Company; muster up more Lies than are told behind a _Cheapside_-Counter, and talk to her of Agues, Agonies and Agitations, when I have no more Notion of Love, than a Lawyer has of the next World: Her Estate indeed wou'd put a Man into a Conflagration, but a fine Woman is to me like a fine Race-Horse, admir'd only by Fools, very costly, very wanton, and very apt to run away--Madam, your Ladiship's incomparable Perfections, which are as much talk'd of, as if they had been publish'd in the _Flying-Post, Post-Boy_, and _Post-Man,_ have stirr'd up all my Faculties to admire, ev'ry Part about you, and to tell you the Ambition I have of being your Ladiship's most devoted, humble Servant at Bed and Board. La. _Rod_. A Man of your Character, _Major_, is seldom touch'd with a Lady's Perfections; our trifling Beauties soften weaker Mortals, you Men that bustle about publick Matters, whose fiery Souls are charm'd with Broils of State, retain no mighty Transports for our Sex. _Bram_. True, Madam, Love's but an insipid Business; but I wou'd marry to keep up that fiery Breed; and your Ladyship having a more sublime Genius than the rest of your Sex, I thought you the properest Person to apply to, that with equal Pains-taking we may produce a Race of _Alexanders_, that shall rattle thro' the World like a Peal of Thunder, wage Wars, destroy Cities, and send old Women headlong to the Devil.