Act III

SCENE I.—Sir JOHN BRUTE’S House

Sir JOHN BRUTE, Lady BRUTE, and BELINDA discovered, rising from the table.

Sir J. Here, take away the things: I expect company. But, first, bring me a pipe; I’ll smoke.

[To a Servant.

Lady B. Lord! Sir John, I wonder you won’t leave that nasty custom.

Sir J. Pr’ythee, don’t be impertinent.

Bel. [to Lady B]. I wonder who those are he expects this afternoon.

Lady B. I’d give the world to know. Perhaps ’tis Constant; he comes here sometimes: if it does prove him, I’m resolved I’ll share the visit.

Bel. We’ll send for our work, and sit here.

Lady B. He’ll choke us with his tobacco.

Bel. Nothing will choke us, when we are doing what we have a mind to. Lovewell!

Enter LOVEWELL.

Love. Madam.

Lady B. Here, bring my cousin’s work and mine hither. [Exit LOVEWELL, and re-enters with their work.

Sir J. Why, pox! can’t you work somewhere else?

Lady B. We shall be careful not to disturb you, sir.

Bel. Your pipe would make you too thoughtful, uncle, if you were left alone; our prittle prattle will cure your spleen.

Sir J. Will it so, Mrs. Pert? Now I believe it will so increase it [Sitting and smoking] I shall take my own house for a papermill.

Lady B. [aside to BEL.]. Don’t let’s mind him; let him say what he will.

Sir J. A woman’s tongue a cure for the spleen! Oons! if a man had got the headache, they’d be for applying the same remedy.

[Aside.

Lady B. You have done a good deal, Belinda, since yesterday.

Bel. Yes, I have worked very hard; how do you like it?

Lady B. Oh! ’tis the prettiest fringe in the world! Well, cousin, you have the happiest fancy! pr’ythee, advise me about altering my crimson petticoat.

Sir J. D—n your petticoat! here’s such a prating, a man can’t digest his own thoughts for you.

Lady B. Don’t answer him. [Aside.] Well, what do you advise me?

Bel. Why, really, I would not alter it at all. Methinks ’tis very pretty as it is.