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.
La. Rod. I mould rather chuse a peaceful Race, whose Virtue shou'd prefer 'em to the State, where Wisdom, like a Goddess, sits triumphant, to awe, to charm, to punish and reward, and check the Fury of such headstrong Coursers.
Bram. A Race of Side-Box-Beaus, that love soft easie Chairs, Down-Beds, and taudry Night-Gowns; I admire those renown'd Emperors, that chop Peoples Heads off for their Diversion, and the glorious King of France, that makes his Family Kings whenever he pleases; that gives People yearly Pensions to bellow out his praise; whose Edicts fly about like Squibs and Crackers, and as much laughs at Parliaments and Councils, as a Whore of Distinction does at the Reforming-Society.
La. Rod. Such Princes are meant Scourges to the Earth; no Mortal's fit for absolute Command; Men have their Passions; Monarchs are but Men, and when Love, Jealousie, or Fear possess 'em, the Tyrants spurn, and rack their guiltless People, who tamely bend, and court their fatal Madness; our happy Realm knows no Despotick Sway; not only Kingdoms here, but Hearts unite, the Sov'reign and the Subjects bless each other; a Constitution so divinely fram'd; such gen'rous Concord, such resistless Harmony, that Nature wonders at her own Perfections; a Climate and a People so serene!
Bram. Look you, Madam, I'm no more an Enemy to the Government than to your Ladiship: Your Ladiship has a good Estate, Estate, and your Person is mightily dish'd out, fine and lovely and plump, therefore if your Ladyship thinks fit to marry me, and the Government to give me a Place of a Thousand a Year, I'm an humble Servant to both, otherwise I wou'dn't care three Whiffs o' Tobacco, if the Government sunk, and your Ladiship were blown up in the Clouds.
La. Rod. Plain-dealing, Major, ought to be inestimable, especially in a Statesman, but you needn't give your self any trouble about me, you're not a Creature tame enough for a Husband: The Lion that's us'd to range the Woods, if once ensnar'd, grows ten times more outragious. What think you, Cousin, shou'd we entangle the Major.