Wou'd you Charm me, give me a ruddy Country Wench to riffe on the Grass,
with no other resistance than,--What a Dickens, is the Man berwattl'd, you
are an impudent, bold Rogue, and I'll call my Mother: Besides, the fear of
Scandal makes your great Ladies preserve a foolish kind of Virtue, their
Principles wou'd fain get rid of.

Sir _Har._ You are deceiv'd, _Collonel_, Women of Quality are above
Reputation.--Is it my Lady _Tipple-dram_'s Modesty, or the effect of
Ratifia, that gives her a high Colour in the Drawing-room?--Is my Lady
_Sluggard_'s Religion question'd, that has never been at Church since her
Baptism, or my Lady _Gamesom_'s Virtue suspected for admiring Collonel
_Sturdy_'s Regiment; both Sexes of Rank, now, use what Liberty they please
without censuring one another, and consequently despise the tattling of
Inferiours.

_Col._ Ha! what pert Fellow's this, that whisks it along in a Silk-Drugget
Suit, with the empty Air of a Fop Mercer, or a Judge's Train-bearer?

Sir _Har._ Oh! 'Tis young _Nicknack_, a Beau Merchant, his Father dy'd
lately, and left him considerably in Money, he has been bred to business,
with a Liberty of Pleasure, a little vain and affected as most young
Fellows are; but his Foppery is rather pretty and diverting than tiresome
and impertinent. For his Father obliging him still to live in the City,
and follow Business, he has turn'd Commerce into a Jest, and calls
himself, The Ladies Merchant; for he imports nothing but Squirrels,
Lap-dogs and _Guinea piggs_ to insnare the Women.

_Enter_ Nicknack.

_Nick_. Dear Sir _Harry_, I have been twice round the _Park_, in search of