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OVE is an universal Invader: Whatever Women pretend, they are all sensible alike; the best Livers as much as the loosest Prostitutes; only with this difference, thole whom we call Virtuous and Chaste, have more Pride, or a greater force of Dissimulation.

Dia. Really, Brother, you're a strange Man: I say 'tis impossible for a Woman to be in Love, and I'll maintain it.

Mel. In Love! Lord, with what! with a filthy Man! Phogh.

Dor. With a stiff Beard, that fetches Blood with every Kiss.

Mel. A great pot Belly, a broad Back, and huge Legs and Arms, enough to squeeze one to pieces.

Fred. There is another sort of Man, my good Sisters, that, perhaps, may not be so disagreeable: I mean your smooth Beaux, who's as tender and gentle as any Lady; always trickt and perfum'd like a Lady; and were it not for his Breeches, a very Lady.

Dia. Really I should as soon have a Passion fer a Shadow.

Mir. Truly, Sifters, methinks you're too nice; I have seen very proper handsom Men of all sorts and sizes.

Dia.