Med. This prudent consideration, I am apt to think, has made you confirm poor Bellair in the desperate resolution he has taken.

Dor. Indeed, the little hope I found there was of her, in the state she was in, has made him by my advice contribute something towards the changing of her condition.

Enter Bellair. Dear Bellair, by heavens I thought we had lost thee; men in love are never to be reckoned on when we would form a company.

Bell. Dorimant I am undone; my man has brought the most surprising news i’ the world.

Dor. Some strange misfortune is befallen your love.

Bell. My father came to town last night, and lodges i’ the very house where Emilia lies.

Med. Does he know it is with her you are in love?

Bell. He knows I love, but knows not whom, without some officious sot has betrayed me.

Dor. Your Aunt Townley is your confidante and favours the business.

Bell. I do not apprehend any ill office from her; I have received a letter, in which I am commanded by my father to meet him at my aunt’s this afternoon; he tells me farther he has made a match for me, and bids me resolve to be obedient to his will or expect to be disinherited.

Med. Now’s your time, Bellair; never had lover such an opportunity of giving a generous proof of his passion.

Bell. As how, I pray?

Med. Why, hang an estate, marry Emilia out of hand, and provoke your father to do what he threatens; ’tis but despising a coach, humbling yourself to a pair of goloshes, being out of countenance when you meet your friends, pointed at and pitied wherever you go by all the amorous fops that know you, and your fame will be immortal.

Bell. I could find in my heart to resolve not to marry at all.

Dor. Fie, fie! that would spoil a good jest and disappoint the well-natured town of an occasion of laughing at you.

Bell. The storm I have so long expected hangs o’er my head and begins to pour down upon me; I am on the rack, and can have no rest till I’m satisfied in what I fear; where do you dine?

Dor. At Long’s or Locket’s.

Med. At Long’s let it be.

Bell. I’ll run and see Emilia, and inform myself how matters stand; if my misfortunes are not so great as to make me unfit for company, I’ll be with you.

[Exit Bellair

Enter a Footman with a letter.

Foot. [to Dorimant]. Here’s a letter, sir.

Dor. The superscription’s right: For Mr. Dorimant.