SCENE IX.
[To them] Foible.
LADY. Come, come, Foible—I had forgot my nephew will be here before dinner—I must make haste.
FOIB. Mr. Witwoud and Mr. Petulant are come to dine with your ladyship.
LADY. Oh dear, I can’t appear till I am dressed. Dear Marwood, shall I be free with you again, and beg you to entertain ’em? I’ll make all imaginable haste. Dear friend, excuse me.
SCENE X.
Mrs. Marwood, Mrs. Millamant, Mincing.
MILLA. Sure, never anything was so unbred as that odious man. Marwood, your servant.
MRS. MAR. You have a colour; what’s the matter?
MILLA. That horrid fellow Petulant has provoked me into a flame—I have broke my fan—Mincing, lend me yours.—Is not all the powder out of my hair?