VAIN. Yes, when I feed myself. But I hate to be crammed. By heaven, there's not a woman will give a man the pleasure of a chase: my sport is always balked or cut short. I stumble over the game I would pursue. 'Tis dull and unnatural to have a hare run full in the hounds' mouth, and would distaste the keenest hunter. I would have overtaken, not have met, my game. SHARP. However, I hope you don't mean to forsake it; that will be but a kind of mongrel cur's trick. Well, are you for the Mall? VAIN. No; she will be there this evening. Yes, I will go too, and she shall see her error in-- SHARP. In her choice, I-gad. But thou canst not be so great a brute as to slight her. VAIN. I should disappoint her if I did not. By her management I should think she expects it. All naturally fly what does pursue: 'Tis fit men should be coy when women woo. SCENE VI. _A Room in Fondlewife's House_. A SERVANT _introducing_ BELLMOUR, _in fanatic habit_, _with a patch upon one eye and a book in his hand_. SERV. Here's a chair, sir, if you please to repose yourself. My mistress is coming, sir. BELL. Secure in my disguise I have out-faced suspicion and even dared discovery. This cloak my sanctity, and trusty Scarron's novels my prayer- book; methinks I am the very picture of Montufar in the Hypocrites. Oh! she comes. SCENE VII. BELLMOUR, LAETITIA. So breaks Aurora through the veil of night, Thus fly the clouds, divided by her light, And every eye receives a new-born sight. [_Throwing off his cloak_, _patch_, _etc._] LAET. Thus strewed with blushes, like--Ah! Heaven defend me! Who's this? [_Discovering him_, _starts_.] BELL. Your lover. LAET. Vainlove's friend! I know his face, and he has betrayed me to him. [_Aside_.] BELL. You are surprised. Did you not expect a lover, madam? Those eyes shone kindly on my first appearance, though now they are o'ercast. LAET. I may well be surprised at your person and impudence: they are both new to me. You are not what your first appearance promised: the piety of your habit was welcome, but not the hypocrisy. BELL. Rather the hypocrisy was welcome, but not the hypocrite. LAET. Who are you, sir? You have mistaken the house sure. BELL. I have directions in my pocket which agree with everything but your unkindness. [_Pulls out the letter_.] LAET. My letter! Base Vainlove! Then 'tis too late to dissemble. [_Aside_.] 'Tis plain, then, you have mistaken the person. [_Going_.] BELL. If we part so I'm mistaken. Hold, hold, madam! I confess I have run into an error. I beg your pardon a thousand times. What an eternal blockhead am I! Can you forgive me the disorder I have put you into? But it is a mistake which anybody might have made.