e since, therefore while the Government
takes no notice of me, I'll take no notice of the Government.

Sir _Har._ You are a Person, _Major_, the Government ought to take notice
of, I assure you--And d'you think a Man of your Character and Conversation
qualify'd for a publick Post.

_Bram._ Certainly, Sir _Harry_, who makes a better Soldier than a
Midnight-Scourer; who proves a sharper Judge than a Serjeant that takes
Fees on both sides; or who thumps the Cushion better than he that has
thumpt all the Wives i'the Parish; therefore that am acquainted with all
you call Rogues i'the Kingdom, think my self notably qualify'd for a
_Custom-House-Officer_--but whether the Government employs us, or not, my
Companions are the happiest People i'the World; we meet ev'ry Day at a
House within the Rules of the _Fleet_, where we have fat Venison, that's
Stole out of _Windsor-Park_; _French_ Wine, that's Run i'the _Wild o'
Kent_; drink Confusion to our Arms, and talk Treason, till the Vintner
crys, _Huzza, Drawer bring in my Bottle_. And there are of our Club, Four
Broken-Officers, Six Suborning-Attorneys, a Disaffected-Cobler, Two
Highway-Men, and Eleven _Jacobite_, Outlaw'd-Parsons.

Sir _Har._ If you are such an Enemy to your native Country, why don't you
course the World, and please your self.

_Bram._ Thank you, Sir _Harry_, but tho' things don't go as I'd have them,
of all Countries, I like _England_ the best, for 'tis the only Kingdom in
the World that suffers Faction; where one may write Libels, affront the
Ministry, deride the Laws, and set the whole Nation together by the Ears--
but whilst I am idle, mighty Matters are at a stand; in short, my Business
here is to make my Addresses to Lady _Rodomont_, who having lately seen
_Italy_ and _France_, like a true Woman, is return'd with a most horrid
Contempt of her own Country, and may like my Principles better than the
flutt'ring Airs of you Town-Sparks--afterwards, Gentlemen, I shall be
proud of both your Companies to dine in the _Press-Yard_, in _Newgate_,
with sev'ral very ingenious Persons, that coin better than they do i'the
_Tower_. [_Exit._

_Col_. So, Lady _Rodomont_'s the Cry--How Divine a Creature is a Woman
that has Six thousand a Year; the Town's quite mad after her.

Sir _Har_. And such an Estate's enough to make her mad; Women are too
sanguine for such mighty Fortune; Ten thousand Pounds touches a Lady's
Brain, but when they prove great Heiresses, they're-