Pert. She has eaten too much fruit, I warrant you.

Lov. Not unlikely!

Pert. ’Tis that lies heavy on her stomach.

Lov. Have her into my chamber, give her some surfeit water, and let her lie down a little.

Pert. Come, madam, I was a strange devourer of fruit when I was young, so ravenous—

[Exit BELINDA, PERT leading her off. SCENE I.]

The Man of Mode

Lov. Oh, that my love would be but calm awhile! that I might receive this man with all the scorn and indignation he deserves.

Enter DORIMANT.

Dor. Now for a touch of Sir Fopling to begin with. Hey— page—give positive order that none of my people stir—let the canaille wait as they should do: since noise and nonsense have such powerful charms,

Lov. If that would do, you need not change from what you are; you can be vain and loud enough.

Dor. But not with so good a grace as Sir Fopling. Hey, Hampshire!—Oh! that sound! that sound becomes the mouth of a man of quality.

Lov. Is there a thing so hateful as a senseless mimic?

Dor. He’s a great grievance indeed to all who like yourself, madam, love to play the fool in quiet.

Lov. A ridiculous animal who has more of the ape than the ape has of the man in him.

Dor. I have as mean an opinion of a sheer mimic as yourself; yet were he all ape I should prefer him to the gay, the giddy, brisk, insipid, noisy fool you dote on.

Lov. Those noisy fools, however you despise ’em, have good qualities, which weigh more (or ought at least) with us women than all the pernicious wit you have to boast of.

Dor. That I may hereafter have a just value for their merit, pray do me the favour to name ’em.

Lov. You’ll despise ’em as the dull effects of ignorance and vanity, yet I care not if I mention some. First, they really admire us, while you at best but flatter us well.

Dor. Take heed! fools can dissemble too—

Lov. They may, but not so artificially as you: there is no fear they should deceive us. Then they are assiduous, sir; they are ever offering us their service, and always waiting on our will.

Dor. You owe that to their excessive idleness; they know not how to entertain themselves at home, and find so little welcome abroad, they are fain to fly to you who countenance ’em as a refuge against the solitude they would be otherwise condemned to.

Lov. Their conversation too diverts us better.