Bel. Do you think, my dear, I could be so loathsome to trick myself up with carnations and stock gillyflowers? I begged their pardon, and told them I never wore anything but orange flowers and tuberose. That which made me willing to go was a strange desire I had to eat some fresh nectarines.

Lov. And had you any?

Bel. The best I ever tasted.

Lov. Whence came you now?

Bel. From their lodgings, where I crowded out of a coach, and took a chair to come and see you, my dear.

Lov. Whither did you send for that chair?

Bel. ’Twas going by empty.

Lov. Where do these country gentlewomen lodge, I pray?

Bel. In the Strand, over against the Exchange.

Pert. That place is never without a nest of ’em; they are always as one goes by fleering in balconies or staring out of windows.

Enter Footman.

Lov. [whispers to the Footman]. Come hither.

Bel. [aside]. This fellow by her order has been questioning the chairmen—I threatened ’em with the name of Dorimant; if they should have told truth I am lost for ever.

Lov. In the Strand, said you?

Footman. Yes, madam, over against the Exchange.

[Exit Footman.

Lov. She’s innocent, and I am much to blame.

Bel. [aside]. I am so frighted my countenance will betray me.

Lov. Belinda! what makes you look so pale?

Bel. Want of my usual rest, and jolting up and down so long in an odious hackney.

Enter Footman.

Footman. Madam, Mr. Dorimant!

Lov. What makes him here?

Bel. [aside]. Then I am betrayed indeed; he’s broke his word, and I love a man that does not care for me.

Lov. Lord! you faint, Belinda.

Bel. I think I shall; such an oppression here on the sudden.