Enter HARRIET and YOUNG BELLAIR, she pulling him.
HAR. Come along.
Y. BELL. And leave your mother!
HAR. Busy will be sent with a hue and cry after us, but that's no matter.
|Y. BELL. 'Twill look strangely in me.||5|
HAR. She'll believe it a freak of mine and never blame your manners.
Y. BELL. What reverend acquaintance is that she has met?
|HAR. A fellow-beauty of the last king's time,1||10|
Enter DORIMANT and crosses the stage.
Enter YOUNG BELLAIR and HARRIET.
Y. BELL. By this time your mother is in a fine taking.
HAR. If your friend Mr. Dorimant were but here
|now, that she might find me talking with him!||15|
Y. BELL. She does not know him, but dreads him, I hear, of all mankind.
HAR. She concludes if he does but speak to a woman, she's undone -- is on her knees every day
|to pray heaven defend me from him.||20|
Y. BELL. You do not apprehend him so much as she does?
HAR. I never saw anything in him that was frightful.
|Y. BELL. On the contrary, have you not||25|
HAR. He's agreeable and pleasant, I must own, but he does so much affect being so, he displeases me.
|Y. BELL. Lord, madam! all he does and says||30|
HAR. Some men's verses seem so to the unskillful, but labor i'the one and affectation in the other to the judicious plainly appear.
|Y. BELL. I never heard him accused of af||35|
Enter DORIMANT and stares upon her.
HAR. It passes on the easy town, who are favorably pleased in him to call it humor.
[Exeunt YOUNG BELLAM and HARRIET.]
DOR. 'Tis she! it must be she -- that lovely hair,
|that easy shape, those wanton eyes, and all||40|
Exit DORIMANT repeating:
In love the victors from the vanquished fly;
|They fly that wound, and they pursue that die.2||45|
Enter YOUNG BELLAIR and HARRIET and after them DORIMANT standing at a distance.
Y. BELL. Most people prefer High Park3 to this place.
HAR. It has the better reputation, I confess; but I abominate the dull diversions there -- the formal bows, the affected smiles, the silly by-words 50 and amorous tweers4 in passing. Here one meets with a little conversation now and then.
Y. BELL. These conversations have been fatal to some of your sex, madam.
|HAR. It may be so; because some who||55|
DOR. (coming up gently and bowing to her). Trust
|me, it were unreasonable, madam.||60|
HAR. (she starts and looks grave). Lord, who's this?
Y. BELL. Dorimant!
DOR. Is this the woman your father would have you marry?
|Y. BELL. It is.||65|
DOR. Her name?
Y. BELL. Harriet.
DOR. I am not mistaken; she's handsome.
Y. BELL. Talk to her; her wit is better than her
|face. We were wishing for you but now.||70|
DOR. (to HARRIET). Overcast with seriousness o'the sudden! A thousand smiles were shining in that face but now; I never saw so quick a change of weather.
|HAR. (aside). I feel as great a change within,||75|
DOR. You were talking of play, madam. Pray,
|what may be your stint?6|
HAR. A little harmless discourse in public walks,
|or at most an appointment in a box, barefaced,||80|
DOR. I have been used to deep play, but I can
|make one at small game when I like my gamester||85|
HAR. And be so unconcerned you'll ha' no pleasure in't.
DOR. Where there is a considerable sum to be
|won, the hope of drawing people in makes every||90|
HAR. The sordidness of men's natures, I know,____________________