Fain. Now I remember, I wonder not they were weary of you; last night was one of their cabal-nights; they have ’em three times a week, and meet by turns, at one another’s apartments, where they come together like the coroner’s inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week. You and I are excluded; and it was once proposed that all the male sex should be excepted; but somebody moved that to avoid scandal there might be one man of the community; upon which motion Witwoud and Petulant were enrolled members.

Mira. And who may have been the foundress of this sect? My Lady Wishfort, I warrant, who publishes her detestation of mankind; and full of the vigour of fifty-five, declares for a friend and ratafia; and let posterity shift for itself, she’ll breed no more.

Fain. The discovery of your sham addresses to her, to conceal your love to her neice, has provoked this separation: had you dissembled better, things might have continued in the state of nature.

Mira. I did as much as man could, with any reasonable conscience; I proceeded to the very last act of flattery with her, and was guilty of a song in her commendation. Nay, I got a friend to put her into a lampoon, and complement her with the imputation of an affair with a young fellow, which I carried so far, that I told her the malicious town took notice that she was grown fat of a sudden; and when she lay in of a dropsie, persuaded her she was reported to be in labour. The devil’s in’t, if an old woman is to be flattered further, unless a man should endeavour downright personally to debauch her; and that my vertue forbad me. But for the discovery of this amour, I am indebted to your friend, or your wife’s friend, Mrs. Marwood.

Fain. What should provoke her to be your enemy, unless she has made you advances, which you have slighted? Women do not easily forgive omissions of that nature.

Mira. She was always civil to me, ’till of late; I confess I am not one of those coxcombs who are apt to interpret a woman’s good manners to her prejudice; and think that she who does not refuse ’em everything, can refuse ’em nothing.

Fain. You are a gallant man, Mirabell; and though you may have cruelty enough, not to satisfie a lady’s longing; you have too much generosity, not to be tender of her honour. Yet you speak with an indifference which seems to be affected; and confesses you are conscious of a negligence.

Mira. You pursue the argument with a distrust that seems to be unaffected, and confesses you are conscious of a concern for which the lady is more indebted to you, than is your wife.

Fain. Fie, fie, friend, if you grow censorious I must leave you;—I’ll look upon the gamesters in the next room.

Mira. Who are they?

Fain. Petulant and Witwoud.—Bring me some chocolate.

Mira. Betty, what says your clock?

Bet. Turned of the last canonical hour, sir.

Mira. How pertinently the jade answers me! Ha! almost one a clock! [Looking on his watch.] O, y’are come—

SCENE II

Mirabell and Footman.

Mira. Well, is the grand affair over? You have been something tedious.