d at thy good
nature--

VAIN. Faith, I hate love when 'tis forced upon a man, as I do wine. And
this business is none of my seeking; I only happened to be, once or
twice, where Laetitia was the handsomest woman in company; so,
consequently, applied myself to her--and it seems she has taken me at my
word. Had you been there, or anybody, 't had been the same.

BELL. I wish I may succeed as the same.

VAIN. Never doubt it; for if the spirit of cuckoldom be once raised up
in a woman, the devil can't lay it, until she has done't.

BELL. Prithee, what sort of fellow is Fondlewife?

VAIN. A kind of mongrel zealot, sometimes very precise and peevish. But
I have seen him pleasant enough in his way; much addicted to jealousy,
but more to fondness; so that as he is often jealous without a cause,
he's as often satisfied without reason.

BELL. A very even temper, and fit for my purpose. I must get your man
Setter to provide my disguise.

VAIN. Ay; you may take him for good and all, if you will, for you have
made him fit for nobody else. Well--

BELL. You're going to visit in return of Sylvia's letter. Poor rogue!
Any hour of the day or night will serve her. But do you know nothing of
a new rival there?

VAIN. Yes; Heartwell--that surly, old, pretended woman-hater--thinks her
virtuous; that's one reason why I fail her. I would have her fret
herself out of conceit with me, that she may entertain some thoughts of
him. I know he visits her every day.

BELL. Yet rails on still, and thinks his love unknown to us. A little
time will swell him so, he must be forced to give it birth; and the
discovery must needs be very pleasant from himself, to see what pains he
will take, and how he will strain to be delivered of a secret, when he
has miscarried of it already.

VAIN. Well, good-morrow. Let's dine together; I'll meet at the old
place.

BELL. With all my heart. It lies convenient for us to pay our afternoon
services to our mistresses. I find I am damnably in love, I'm so uneasy
for not having seen Belinda yesterday.

VAIN. But I saw my Araminta, yet am as impatient.

SCENE II.

BELLMOUR _alone_.

BELL. Why, what a cormorant in love am I! Who, not contented with the
slavery of honourable love in one place, and the pleasure of enjoying
some half a score mistresses of my own acquiring, must yet take
Vainlove's business upon my hands, because it lay too heavy upon his; so
am not only forced