Lucy. That is when you handle us too roughly.

     Mrs. W. You are a kind of rue:  neither good for smell nor taste.

     Wat. But very wholesome, wife.

     Mrs. W. Ay, so they say of all bitters, yet I would not be
     obliged to feed on gentian and wormwood.

Some subjects are peculiarly suitable for light female humour.  In “The Beau’s Duel, or a Soldier for the Ladies,” we have the following soliloquy by Sir William Mode, a fop, as he stands in his night-gown looking into his glass: 

This rising early is the most confounded thing on earth, nothing so destructive to the complexion.  Blister me, how I shall look in the side box to-night, wretchedly upon my soul. [looking in the glass all the while.] Yet it adds something of a languishing air, not altogether unbecoming, and by candle light may do mischief; but I must stay at home to recover some colour, and that may be as well laid on too; so ’tis resolved I will go.  Oh ’tis unspeakable pleasure to be in the side box, or bow’d to from the stage, and be distinguished by the beaux of quality, to have a lord fly into one’s arms, and kiss one as amorously as a mistress.  Then tell me aloud, that he dined with his Grace and that he and the ladies were so fond of me, they talked of nothing else.  Then says I, “My lord, his Grace does me too much honour.”  Then, my lord, “This play ’tis not worth seeing; we havn’t been seen at t’other house to-night; and the ladies will be disappointed not to receive a bow from Sir William.”  “He, he, he,” says I, “my lord, I wait upon your lordship.”  “Then,” says my lord, “lead the way Sir William.”  “O, pray my lord, I beg your lordship’s pardon.”  “Nay, Sir William.”  “Pray my lord,” (Enter La Riviere, Sir W’s valet).  “Pray Sir William.”  “Pray my lord.”

     (As he says this several times La Riviere enters behind him, but
     as he designs to pass by him, is still prevented by his turning
     from one side to t’other, as he acts himself for the lord.)

La Riv. Hey!  What the devil is he conjuring and talking with invisible lords?  He’s in his airs, some pleasing imagination hurries him out of his senses.  But I must to my cue.  Hem! hem!  Sir, dere be one two gentlemen below come to wait upon you dis morning, sal I show dem up?

     Sir.  W. No, my lord, by no means, I know better things—­

     La Riv. What then am I a lord?  Egad I never knew my quality
     before. (Aside.)

     Sir W. Pshaw! this blockhead has rous’d me from the prettiest
     entertainment in the world (Aside).  Well, what would you, Sir?

     La Riv. I voo’d tell you, Sir, dere be one two gentlemen wait
     upon you.