How, Belcour--what's the matter? You go wrong.
'Tis to the court-house all the world is going.

BELCOUR (_impetuously_).
Let the world go its way, and me go mine
We've parted company, the world and I.
When Fortune frowns, the wretch is left alone

PAWLETT.
Ah! true--I've heard of some embarrassments--

BELCOUR.
Embarrassments!--A puling, milliner phrase!
One of those tender terms we coin to throw
A sentimental interest round the bankrupt;--
As though he may recover if he choose.
Why, Pawlett, man, I'm ruined, if the plan
I've formed to-day should fail. It shall not fail.
I will succeed. And Isabelle once mine,
With cash to bear us to a foreign land,
I care not for the rest, though death and hell
Should stand at the goal to seize me.
[_Exit violently_.

PAWLETT (_looking after him_).
The fool!
He's in a furious mood--and let him rave--
He'll never win his way with Isabelle.
My chances there are better, but not good.
Young Bolton's in my way. He loves her well;