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.