"Charles Spottiswoode, you may call this constancy, but I can only consider it tiresome: do go and dance with some lady who has not the objection I have, to being worried. I hate tiresome men!"
"I shall not desire to dance with you, but I will not quit this place while you remain here," was the reply.
"Men always fancy perseverance will balance their demerits," said Miss Wycherly.
"Perseverance will do much," replied Mr. Spottiswoode, "if a lady values attention. Love is only proved by persevering constancy and untired assiduity."
"A very fine sentiment, Mr. Spottiswoode; but I can meet you in the field of disputation: I have always heard that 'love' was fearful, patient, and easily discouraged."
"That love must emanate from the heart of a poor devil, Miss Wycherly; not such a heart as you would prize."
"What do you presume to know of my taste, Mr. Spottiswoode?"
"I know that you would despise a creeping, frightened lover, as you dislike your horse for starting upon every application of the whip. You would prefer a decided admirer who bore with your flippancy, and feared not your power. You have such a lover in me, fair Penelope!"
"You are very tiresome and disagreeable, Mr. Spottiswoode."