Dor. Let me consult my reputation; you are too careless of it [pauses]. You shall meet Sir Fopling in the Mall again tonight.
Lov. What mean you?
Dor. I have thought on’t, and you must: ’tis necessary to justify my love to the world; you can handle a coxcomb as he deserves when you are not out of humour, madam.
Lov. Public satisfaction for the wrong I have done you! This is some new device to make me more ridiculous.
Dor. Hear me.
Lov. I will not.
Dor. You will be persuaded.
Lov. Never.
Dor. Are you so obstinate?
Lov. Are you so base?
Dor. You will not satisfy my love?
Lov. I would die to satisfy that, but I will not to save you from a thousand racks do a shameless thing to please your vanity.
Dor. Farewell, false woman!
Lov. Do! go!
Dor. You will call me back again.
Lov. Exquisite fiend! I knew you came but to torment me.
Enter B
Dor. [surprised]. Belinda here!
Bel. [aside]. He starts and looks pale; the sight of me has touched his guilty soul.
Pert. ’Twas but a qualm, as I said, a little indigestion; the surfeit water did it, madam, mixed with a little mirabilis.
Dor. I am confounded, and cannot guess how she came hither!
Lov. ’Tis your fortune, Belinda, ever to be here when I am abused by this prodigy of ill-nature.
Bel. I am amazed to find him here! How has he the face to come near you?
Dor. [aside]. There is no remedy; I must submit to their tongues now, and some other time bring myself off as well as I can.
Bel. Other men are wicked, but then they have some sense of shame: he is never well but when he triumphs, nay, glories to a woman’s face in his villainies.