William Congreve

“ Odd, there's ne'er a young fellow worth hanging--that is a very young fellow. Pize on 'em, they never think beforehand of anything; and if they commit matrimony, 'tis as they commit murder, out of a frolic, and are ready to hang themselves, or to be hanged by the law, the next morning. Odso, have a care, madam.
ANG. Therefore I ask your advice, Sir Sampson. I have fortune enough to make any man easy that I can like: if there were such a thing as a young agreeable man, with a reasonable stock of good nature and sense--for I would neither have an absolute wit nor a fool. ”

“ MISS. What, and must not I have e'er a husband, then? What, must I go to bed to nurse again, and be a child as long as she's an old woman? Indeed but I won't. For now my mind is set upon a man, I will have a man some way or other. Oh, methinks I'm sick when I think of a man ”

“ ANG. 'Tis an unreasonable accusation that you lay upon our sex: you tax us with injustice, only to cover your own want of merit. You would all have the reward of love, but few have the constancy to stay till it becomes your due. Men are generally hypocrites and infidels: they pretend to worship, but have neither zeal nor faith. How few, like Valentine, would persevere even to martyrdom, and sacrifice their interest to their constancy! ”

“ TATT. Ay; 'tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an university: but the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman. I hope you are secret in your nature: private, close, ha?
JERE. Oh, sir, for that, sir, 'tis my chief talent: I'm as secret as the head of Nilus.
TATT. Ay? Who's he, though? A privy counsellor?
JERE. O ignorance! [Aside.] A cunning Egyptian, sir, that with his arms would overrun the country, yet nobody could ever find out his head-quarters.
TATT. Close dog! A good whoremaster, I warrant him: --the time draws nigh, Jeremy. ”

“ Where's Valentine?
SCENE X. SIR SAMPSON, ANGELICA, FORESIGHT, MRS FORESIGHT, BEN, BUCKRAM.
MRS FORE. This is so surprising.
SIR SAMP. How! What does my aunt say? Surprising, aunt? Not at all for a young couple to make a match in winter: not at all. It's a plot to undermine cold weather, and destroy that usurper of a bed called a warming-pan.
MRS FORE. I'm glad to hear you have so much fire in you, Sir Sampson.
BEN. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light up a match for somebody else. ”

“ Body o' me, he shall be thy father, I'll make him thy father, and thou shalt make me a father, and I'll make thee a mother, and we'll beget sons and daughters enough to put the weekly bills out of countenance. ”

“ I was an infidel to your sex, and you have converted me. For now I am convinced that all women are not like fortune, blind in bestowing favours, either on those who do not merit or who do not want 'em. ”

“ MRS FRAIL. But, my dear, that's impossible: the parson and that rogue Jeremy will publish it.
TATT. Ay, my dear, so they will, as you say.
ANG. Oh, you'll agree very well in a little time; custom will make it easy to you.
TATT. Easy! Pox on't, I don't believe I shall sleep to-night.
SIR SAMP. Sleep, quotha! No; why, you would not sleep o' your wedding-night? I'm an older fellow than you, and don't mean to sleep.
BEN. Why, there's another match now, as thof a couple of privateers were looking for a prize and should fall foul of one another. ”