Sir Fop. Here was a woman yesterday—

Dor. Mistress Loveit.

Sir Fop. You have named her.

Dor. You cannot pitch on a better for your purpose.

Sir Fop. Prithee, what is she?

Dor. A person of quality, and one who has a rest of reputation enough to make the conquest considerable. Besides, I hear she likes you too.

Sir Fop. Methought she seemed, though, very reserved and uneasy all the time I entertained her.

Dor. Grimace and affection. You will see her i’ th’ Mall to-night.

Sir Fop. Prithee let thee and I take the air together.

Dor. I am engaged to Medley, but I’ll meet you at St. James’s and give you some information upon the which you may regulate your proceedings.

Sir Fop. All the world will be in the Park to-night: ladies, ’twere pity to keep so much beauty longer within doors and rob the Ring of all those charms that should adorn it.—Hey, page.

Enter Page, and goes out again.

See that all my people be ready. Dorimant, au revoir!

[Exit Sir Fopling.

Med. A fine mettled coxcomb.

Dor. Brisk and insipid.

Med. Pert and dull.

Emil. However you despise him, gentlemen, I’ll lay my life he passes for a wit with many.

Dor. That may very well be; nature has her cheats, stums a brain, and puts sophisticate dulness often on the tasteless multitude for true wit and good-humour. Medley, come.

Med. I must go a little way, I will meet you i’ the Mall.

Dor. I’ll walk through the garden thither. [To the Women.] We shall meet anon and bow.

Lady Town. Not to-night; we are engaged about a business the knowledge of which may make you laugh hereafter.

Med. Your servant, ladies.

Dor. Au revoir! as Sir Fopling says.

[Exeunt Medley and Dorimant.

Lady Town. The old man will be here immediately.