Emil. The town does him a great deal of injury, and I will never believe what it says of a man I do not know again, for his sake.

Bel. You make me wonder!

Lady Town. He’s a very well-bred man.

Bel. But strangely ill-natured.

Emil. Then he’s a very witty man.

Bel. But a man of no principles.

Med. Your man of principles is a very fine thing indeed!

Bel. To be preferred to men of parts by women who have regard to their reputation and quiet. Well, were I minded to play the fool, he should be the last man I’d think of.

Med. He has been the first in many lady’s favours, though you are so severe, madam.

Lady Town. What he may be for a lover I know not, but he’s a very pleasant acquaintance, I am sure.

Bel. Had you seen him use Mrs. Loveit as I have done, you would never endure him more.

Emil. What, he has quarrelled with her again?

Bel. Upon the slightest occasion; he’s jealous of Sir Fopling.

Lady Town. She never saw him in her life but yesterday, and that was here.

Emil. On my conscience, he’s the only man in town that’s her aversion; how horribly out of humour she was all the while he talked to her!

Bel. And somebody has wickedly told him—

Emil. Here he comes.

Enter Dorimant.

Med. Dorimant! you are luckily come to justify yourself— here’s a lady—

Bel. Has a word or two to say to you from a disconsolate person.

Dor. You tender your reputation too much, I know, madam, to whisper with me before this good company.

Bel. To serve Mrs. Loveit, I’ll make a bold venture.

Dor. Here’s Medley, the very spirit of scandal.

Bel. No matter!

Emil. ’Tis something you are unwilling to hear, Mr. Dorimant.

Lady Town. Tell him, Belinda, whether he will or no.

Bel. [aloud]. Mrs. Loveit—

Dor. Softly, these are laughers, you do not know ’ em.