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._