Sir Fop. So fière? Serviteur, madame. Medley, where’s Dorimant?

Med. Methinks the lady has not made you those advances to-day she did last night, Sir Fopling.

Sir Fop. Prithee do not talk of her.

Med. She would be a bonne fortune

Sir Fop. Not to me, at present.

Med. How so?

Sir Fop. An intrigue now would be but a temptation to me to throw away that vigour on one which I mean shall shortly make my court to the whole sex in a ballet.

Med. Wisely considered, Sir Fopling.

Sir Fop. No one woman is worth the loss of a cut in a caper.

Med. Not when ’tis so universally designed.

Lady Wood. Mr. Dorimant, every one has spoke so much in your behalf that I can no longer doubt but I was in the wrong.

Lov. There’s nothing but falsehood and impertinence in this world; all men are villains or fools. Take example from my misfortunes, Belinda; if thou wouldst be happy, give thyself wholly up to goodness.

Har. [To Loveit]. Mr. Dorimant has been your God Almighty long enough; ’tis time to think of another.

Lov. Jeered by her! I will lock myself up in my house, and never see the world again.

Har. A nunnery is the more fashionable place for such a retreat, and has been the fatal consequence of many a belle passion.

Lov. Hold, heart! till I get home; should I answer ’twould make her triumph greater. [Is going out.

Dor. Your hand, Sir Fopling

Sir Fop. Shall I wait upon you. madam?

Lov. Legion of fools, as many devils take thee! — [Exit Loveit.

Med. Dorimant! I pronounce thy reputation clear and henceforward when I would know anything of woman, I will consult no other oracle.

Sir Fop. Stark mad, by all that’s handsome! Dorimant, thou hast engaged me in a pretty business.

Dor. I have not leisure now to talk about it.

O. Bell. Out a pise! what does this Man of Mode do here again?

Lady Town. He’ll be an excellent entertainment within, brother, and is luckily come to raise the mirth of the company.

Lady Wood. Madam, I take my leave of you.

Lady Town. What do you mean, madam?