The Project Gutenberg EBook of Short and Sweet, by Adolphus Charles Troughton This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Short and Sweet A Comic Drama, in One Act Author: Adolphus Charles Troughton Release Date: July 27, 2016 [EBook #52661] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHORT AND SWEET *** Produced by Paul Haxo with special thanks to the University of California, Davis and Fordham University, especially to Patrice Kane and Vivian Shen of the Department of Archives and Special Collections at the William D. Walsh Family Library. SHORT AND SWEET. A Comic Drama, IN ONE ACT. BY ADOLPHUS CHARLES TROUGHTON, ESQ., AUTHOR OF "_Living too Fast_," "_Leading Strings_," "_Wooing in Jest and Loving in Earnest_," "_Vandyke Brown_," "_Shameful Behaviour_," _&c._ THOMAS HAILES LACY, 89, STRAND, (_Opposite Southampton Street, Covent Garden Market,_) LONDON. SHORT AND SWEET. _First performed at the Strand Theatre (under the Management of Mr. SWANBOROUGH, Sen.), on the 10th of October, 1861._ _Characters._ MR. SWEET (_of the Stock Exchange--a Friend of Short's_) Mr. J. ROGERS. MR. SHORT (_of the same--a Friend of Sweet's_) Mr. CLARKE. STEPHEN (_a Footman_) Mr. EDGE. MRS. SWEET Miss BUFTON. MRS. SHORT Miss CARSON. MARIA (_Mrs. Sweet's Maid_) Miss TURTLE. ----- SCENE--Near the Crystal Palace. ----- _Costumes._ Mr. SWEET--_1st dress:_ morning dress. _2nd ditto:_ evening ditto. Mr. SHORT--Ditto ditto ditto. STEPHEN--Livery. Mrs. SWEET--_1st dress:_ morning dress. _2nd ditto:_ riding habit, hat and feathers. _3rd ditto:_ evening dress. Mrs. SHORT--Ditto ditto ditto. MARIA--Smart muslin dress. SHORT AND SWEET. SCENE.--_Short and Sweet's Lodgings, near the Crystal Palace--a handsomely furnished Apartment, door, C.--backed by landing and staircase, doors, L. 1. E. and 2 E.--fireplace, L. in flat--looking glass over mantelpiece--vases and ornaments on mantelpiece--fender, fireirons, &c.--door, R. 2 E.--a large round table, R., laid for luncheon for four--chairs--an easy chair, L. of table--sofa against R. in flat--sideboard against L. in flat--a work table and chairs, L.--footstool near sofa._ _MRS. SWEET is seen, R., arranging the remains of a luncheon, from which she and MRS. SHORT are supposed to have just risen--MRS. SHORT sitting working at table, L._ MRS. SWEET. That tiresome husband of mine! What has he done with himself? MRS. SHORT. Compose yourself, my dear; men of business, you know, are not always their own masters. _My_ good man, you see, has not found his way back yet. MRS. SWEET. Ah, you quite spoil Mr. Short. You know we don't agree upon that subject. (_calls_) Come, come, William, come and take your lunch! SWEET. (_within, R. door_) In one minute, my dear. I'm only just drying my hands. MRS. SWEET. Vexatious! We shan't get the things cleared away all day. _Enter MR. SWEET, door, R. 2 E._ SWEET. Sorry to keep you waiting--couldn't help it, upon my honour. Just as I was leaving the office, as the deuce would have it, in came a gentleman on business--large transfer of stock, &c. &c.--and so I lost the train. Never mind, there's plenty of time, so I'll just snap up a bit of something, and be ready in the crack of a whip. (_sit at table, R., and eats voraciously_) MRS. SWEET. Why, how you are eating, William! One would think you hadn't tasted anything before to-day. SWEET. Nor more I have--to speak of--I was so late this morning, that I was obliged to run away without my breakfast. MRS. SHORT. Oh, Mr. Sweet, how can you say so? Why, I helped you to half a dozen kidneys, at least--there wasn't one left in the dish for Mr. Short, when he came down after you left. MRS. SWEET. Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. No--did you, though? My impression was I only took a cup of tea; (_eats voraciously_) but the fact is, I have so much upon my stomach--I mean upon my mind--in the way of business, that really these things make very little impression. However, hang business for to-day, at all events--we shall have a splendid afternoon for our ride--you'll enjoy it, I know, Mrs. Short, immensely. MRS. SHORT. Oh, yes, that I shall of all things--I haven't been out for a ride once since my marriage, and I used to be such a horsewoman. SWEET. No; Short don't like it, I know. MRS. SWEET. I should like to see Mr. Short on horseback, amazingly--ha, ha!--since Gilpin's ride to Edmonton--ha, ha! MRS. SHORT. Ha, ha, ha! (_checking herself_) And yet, though Henry is rather inclining to be stout, you must admit that he carries himself remarkably well. SWEET. (_to MRS. SWEET_) Really, my dear, you are too severe upon Short. MRS. SWEET. I beg your pardon, Louise, I'm sure--I'm such a simpleton, I must always laugh when I shouldn't--however, I think you had better make your arrangements independently of him, for although I don't want to be a wet blanket, I am convinced he won't go. SWEET. No, no--I'll undertake to persuade him when he comes in. (_STEPHEN is seen to cross C. from R. to L._) Isn't that Stephen going down stairs? Here, Stephen. _Enter STEPHEN, L. C._ Step over the way, to the livery stables, and tell them to send round the horses I chose on my way to town this morning--then go on to Mr. Billington's--my compliments, and we shall be happy to join him this afternoon for a ride, at the appointed time--two o'clock. Let's see, where did the note say we were to meet him? MRS. SHORT. (_eagerly_) In front of the Crystal Palace. SWEET. Ah, exactly--don't forget, Stephen--two o'clock precisely. STEPH. Two o'clock, sir--yes, sir. _Exit, L. C._ SWEET. (_rising and rubbing his hands_) Come, that's nicely arranged--we shall have a charming ride over to Dulwich, see the pictures, and get back in plenty of time to dress before we start to dine with Billington, and then with the box at the opera, which he has so politely presented us with, we shall have made out the day, in a very superior, and I think I may almost venture to say, aristocratic manner. Come ladies, make haste, get your habits on, or the horses will be here before you are ready, and you know I can't bear to be kept waiting. MRS. SWEET. I like that vastly. SWEET. What's the matter? MRS. SWEET. You can't bear to be kept waiting! but you don't mind keeping other people waiting--then, too, I am to be ordered about at beck and call--everything arranged for me beforehand!--I think at least you might have enquired whether I felt _disposed_ to join you. MRS. SHORT. Oh, I'm sure, Fanny---- SWEET. Why, my dear Mrs. Sweet, you heart the whole thing canvassed this morning between me and Mrs. Short, and you never made the smallest objection. Besides, haven't I only just made you a present of a magnificent riding habit--cost me ten pounds--and one of the most wicked little wide-awakes in the world, with a bunch of cock's feathers, all drooping over the crown! Come, now, you know you are dying to put them on. MRS. SWEET. You think so, do you! SWEET. Yes, to be sure I do--you know you're an arrant coquette. MRS. SWEET. I sir!--a coquette. SWEET. Ah! ah! didn't I surprise you trying your hat on fifty different ways before the glass this very morning--you are caught there, I think! MRS. SWEET. It's not true! You did nothing of the sort! You're always saying something of this kind, and since these are the sentiments you entertain of me, I positively refuse to stir a foot with you--so you may go without me! (_doggedly seating herself_) MRS. SHORT. (_eagerly_) Oh, Fanny! SWEET. (_coaxingly_) Now, really my dear--you can't be in earnest. MRS. SWEET. (_pettishly_) No, no, I won't go!--not an inch. (_crosses and sits, R._) SWEET. Very well, Mrs. Sweet! very well! The old story! You haven't contradicted me before to-day, and so you think it is full time to begin. Was there ever such caprice? (_crosses to L._) MRS. SHORT. (_anxiously persuading her_) My dear Fanny, now do be reasonable--you are not going to take offence without a cause?--a mere word in joke--Mr. Sweet was only in fun--were you, Mr. Sweet? After all Mr. Billington's politeness too, surely you'll go, it would seem so personal. SWEET. To be sure! Insult a man like Billington! One of the first houses in the City! Most respectable delightful creature like Billington! Why, he keeps two carriages, a couple of saddle horses, and a buggy! MRS. SHORT. Come now, Fanny, say you'll go. SWEET. (_coaxingly_) Do! There's a ducky! MRS. SWEET. Well, perhaps, I've been too hasty--say you didn't mean it, William. SWEET. Oh no, my love--upon my honour I didn't mean it! MRS. SWEET. Well, then, as Mr. Billington will be expecting us, I suppose I must go. MRS. SHORT. Now, if my husband would but come. MRS. SWEET. Oh, never mind him--if he is not in in time we'll go without him. Come, we haven't a minute to spare, the horses will be here directly. _Exit MRS. SWEET, door, L. 2. E., and MRS. SHORT, door, L. 1. E._ SWEET. (_looking after them_) "We'll go without him!" Exactly! That's the way she carries it! if _I_ had been the absentee, and had only been a quarter of a minute behind time, she would go without _me_, as lieve as look at me--she treats me as if I had been married twenty years instead of half as many months. But all applies to Short, just as well as to me, and yet how he lords it over _his_ wife--she actually seems to doat upon him--fondles him--pats him, gives way to him--whereas Mrs. Sweet expresses her affection for me by snapping and snubbing, and constant contradiction. It's extraordinary, I never perceived it before we took these joint lodgings down here for the sake of being near the Crystal Palace, for if we did sometimes quarrel I always coaxed her into good temper again, but since I have witnessed Short's happiness I confess my eyes are opened to the different state of things existing in the two families, and I acknowledge that it irritates me! annoys me! for I begin to feel myself in a very false and ridiculous position! Oh, I must turn over a new leaf!--I really must! I wonder how Short does it, for he is nothing like so good-looking as I am--on the contrary, although he is my most particular friend, he's a confoundedly ugly fellow. _Enter STEPHEN, L. 1 E._ STEPH. The horses are at the door, sir. SWEET. Very well, get my whip. _STEPHEN takes one off sofa, and gives it to SWEET, and exits, L. C._ SWEET. It's astonishing what an excitement I've worked myself into! (_lashing the air with his whip_) I hope my wife won't happen to come in just now, I am hardly safe to be trusted with this whip. SHORT. (_outside_) Are the lunch things taken away? I am almost famished. SWEET. There he is, happy man! _Enter SHORT, door, L. C._ SHORT. (_speaking as he comes in_) Here, give me a chair! Give me a chair! I am tired to death--fussed and worried out of my life! SWEET. Why, how late you are! We had almost given you up. SHORT. You're a pretty fellow to complain--here have I been chasing about the city all day on any empty stomach--I can't neglect my business as you do, and then I'm to be told you had nearly given me up, forsooth. Here, Stephen, bring me up something or other to eat. Why you have hardly left a scrap upon the table--Stephen, some come meat! (_sits in easy chair, L. of table, R._) SWEET. What, are you going to make a heavy luncheon at this hour of the day. I am surprised at that habit of yours, Short, I rarely take anything between breakfast and dinner. SHORT. Nor more do I when I _get down first._ Who devoured the whole dish of kidneys, and left me nothing for my breakfast but half a round of cold toast? But, what's all that about outside? They're parading four horses up and down before the house--one great brute nearly ran over me as I was crossing the road. SWEET. (_sits R. of table, L._) That's exactly what you said when you knocked down that Shetland pony in the Borough and trod upon it, and then came fainting into a pastrycook's shop, swearing you had been run over. What, didn't I tell you then that we are all going out for a ride? SHORT. What do you mean by _all?_ _I_ am not going, I can tell you. Do you think, at my time of life, I would trust myself to the back of a horse from a livery stable? Why, when I was fifteen or twenty years younger, in my wildest days, I never permitted myself anything beyond a donkey on the sands at Ramsgate, and then only a quiet one. I never could bear a fiery donkey. SWEET. Come now, you are not going to spoil sport--your wife has set her heart upon it. (_rises and goes to SHORT_) SHORT. _My_ wife, Sweet, never sets her heart upon anything but what mine's set on too, so you may send back two of the horses, I promise you. SWEET. Do you mean to say you are going to take this step without first consulting your wife? SHORT. Of course, I am. SWEET. What, on your own private authority, refuse Mrs. Short? SHORT. Refuse! There will be no necessity for that--I shall just say _I don't go_, and she won't go either. SWEET. (_imitating_) Oh, you'll just say "You don't go," and she won't go either, eh? (_aside_) Bluebeard! (_aloud_) Now really, Short, you are joking with me! SHORT. You'll soon see whether I'm in earnest. SWEET. What, do you mean to pretend that she'll give in without disputing the point--without a quarrel? SHORT. Not the slightest--_my_ wife always does as I wish her. SWEET. Oh, so does mine, so does mine, when we both wish alike. Come, I bet you five pounds she goes. SHORT. Done! I tell you what it is, Sweet, when a woman once falls violently in love with a man there's no end to the influence he has over her. SWEET. (_aside_) Conceited old hippopotamus! (_aloud_) You'll lose your money, depend upon it, _she'll_ not give way. SHORT. Well we shall see about that, for here she comes. _Enter MRS. SHORT, in hat and riding habit, through door, L. 1 E._ MRS. SHORT. Well, here you are, my dear, at last. (_with marked playfulness patting his cheek_) You naughty hubby to be so late. (_crosses to SHORT_) SHORT. Yes, Loo, here I am, very tired, I can tell you, and ravenous for something to eat. MRS. SHORT. Oh, dear, dear, what can I tell them to get you? SHORT. Never mind, there is something coming--I have taken care of myself--but, bless my heart, Loo, how smart you are! Why, you look as if you were going to "ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross." MRS. SHORT. (_timidly_) Fanny and Mr. Sweet have been proposing---- SHORT. A ride on horseback--yes, I know--quite a cavalcade. Sweet has been telling me. But shouldn't you have waited for my return before you gave your consent? SWEET. (_aside_) What a terrible crime! MRS. SHORT. Well, Henry, dear, I didn't think you would-- SHORT. You know, Louisa, I am not fond of equestrian exercise. I never even go to Astley's--but since you have been at the trouble of dressing yourself, why I suppose I mustn't disappoint Mrs. Sweet and her husband. MRS. SHORT. (_pleased_) Thank you, Harry, that's kind. SWEET. (_aside_) There's five pounds in my pocket. SHORT. (_ill-humouredly_) At the same time, of course, it will be very dull and uncomfortable for me to be left all alone here while you are out pleasuring--just like you wives, you always think of yourselves first. (_with increasing ill humour_) But who the deuce was it put the idea into your head? SWEET. Why, _I_ did, I believe: but to confess the truth, I should never have dreamt of the thing if it hadn't been for Mr.---- MRS. SHORT. (_alarmed, and checking SWEET_) No, no! Never mind--it's of no consequence--don't let us talk any more about it! (_she begins to pull off her gloves_) SWEET. Why, Mrs. Short--what are you doing? (_rises_) MRS. SHORT. I see my husband doesn't wish me to go, and I feel now it wouldn't be right to leave him; so, although he has given me _full permission_ to go, I shall not avail myself of his _kindness_---- SHORT. (_looking at SWEET_) A--hem! SWEET. (_aside_) How on earth does he do it? What can be the nature of the influence? He must do something to her. MRS. SHORT. Well, since I am not going, I may as well take off my things. (_to SWEET_) You'll explain matters to Fanny. (_aside_) What a fright he gave me! (_crossing_) Just as everything was arranged so nicely--how vexatious! _Exit through door, L. 1 E._ SHORT. (_balancing himself, with his thumbs in his waistcoat, looking triumphantly at SWEET_) I told you so. Hand me over five pounds! SWEET. (_taking out his purse and paying the money_) It isn't enough that I am to be made sensible that I'm not half such a happy man as you are, but I'm to pay for the conviction into the bargain! You're a sorcerer! SHORT. No--the girl's devoted to me, that's all. SWEET. Go along with you--don't tell me--it won't bear thinking about! Zounds, I shall become unhappy if I do--I won't stand it, Short! Hang me if go to Dulwich either--hang me if I do!--and yet that will be no punishment to Fanny, for she didn't wish to go herself. SHORT. Pray don't let me prevent _your_ going. _Enter STEPHEN, L. C., with cold meat._ (_to STEPHEN, L. C._) Come, what a time you've been. (_he sits down and begins to eat_) SWEET. Stephen. STEPHEN. Yes, sir. SWEET. Tell the man to take back the horses to the stables, we are not going. _Enter MRS. SWEET, as he is speaking, dressed in riding hat and habit, through door, L. 2. E._ MRS. SWEET. What do you mean? Not going? SWEET. No, my dear, I have changed my mind. (_STEPHEN lingers for further orders_) MRS. SWEET. What for? We are all ready, and here's Mr. Short come home. SWEET. Yes, but you see he is busy. (_pointing to SHORT, who is eating voraciously_) He doesn't wish to go, and _his_ wife remains at home to keep him company. MRS. SWEET. But what in the name of goodness has all this to do with us? SWEET. I tell you, Short doesn't want to go--and I desire, Mrs. Sweet, there may be no further discussion on the subject--you understand! (_imitating SHORT_) "I don't go!" (_aside_) That's it, I think, as near as a toucher. (_aloud_) Stephen, do as I ordered you. (_STEPHEN is about to go_) MRS. SWEET. Stop a moment, Stephen. SWEET. How, Mrs. Sweet, you venture to counter-order---- MRS. SWEET. No, no, but tell me. How strange you are--just now, when I didn't care about going, you were violently in favour of it; and now that I have consented and dressed myself to please you, you want to stay at home. My dear William--what nonsense! Of course, we must go now you have sent to say so. What can you be thinking about? SWEET. (_aside_) There she is again--arguing the point with me! How different with Short; and yet that great hulky fellow, insensible of his own happiness, sits there stuffing ready to burst himself. SHORT. (_looking up from his knife and fork_) Well, have you settled the point? MRS. SWEET. My dear, Stephen is waiting for orders. (_coaxingly_) You know I have already given way to you, Willie--it's now your turn. SWEET. (_aside_) I feel that I am yielding, and I can't help it. (_aloud_) Well, that's true--so you did. (_aside_) Short's laughing at me; but I mustn't exact too much from her at once. MRS. SWEET. Come, come--we shall be keeping them waiting. SWEET. Ah, to be sure, I didn't think of that. (_apologetically to SHORT, and crossing to him_) You that makes all the difference, Short. We have friends waiting for us. Stephen, you can tell the man to take back only two of the horses. STEPHEN. Yes, sir. _Exit, L. C._ MRS. SWEET. There, that's like a man of sense; you may give me a kiss, and then get your hat, and let us be off. SWEET. Certainly, Fanny, that habit of yours is monstrously becoming to you! (_kisses her--aside_) That's all very well in its way, but I'm a great ass for my pains notwithstanding. MRS. SWEET. Now, then, are you ready? SWEET. (_putting on his hat and taking his whip_) Good bye, Short, take care of yourself. We shall find you at home I suppose when we come back. SHORT. Oh, yes, no fear of that. A safe ride to you. Good bye. (_Exit SWEET and MRS. SWEET, L. C._) Ha! ha! ha! there he goes! poor tame snake! A model of a husband! _Re-enter, MRS. SHORT door, L. 1 E., without her habit, as at first._ MRS. SHORT. (_aside, looking after MR. and MRS. SWEET_) There they go. How I should like to be with them! SHORT. I wish them joy. Ha! ha! Sweet will make more than one wry face when he comes to sit down to dinner. (_seeing his wife_) Why, Loo, I am afraid you don't stay at home with a good grace. MRS. SHORT. Oh don't say so, I am sure I am always delighted to be with you--besides, it is no less a duty than (_in a lower tone_) a pleasure to me. SHORT. (_eating heartily all the while he is talking_) Now, I ask you if we are not ten times better off comfortably at home here with a good luncheon before us, than if we were jolting about on the backs of those brutes, exposed all the while to the danger--why, my dear, you are in a brown study. MRS. SHORT. (_recollecting herself_) Eh! yes, certainly--what did you say? SHORT. Who is it they are going with? MRS. SHORT. (_getting uneasy_) If you talk so much you'll spoil your luncheon. SHORT. Well, I don't know how it is but my appetite's beginning to fail. MRS. SHORT. (_bustling about the table to draw off his attention_) Have a glass of sherry--here, let me pour some out for you. (_pours out wine for him, and goes round to the R. of SHORT_) SHORT. Well, I have rather a weakness for a glass of sherry. (_having drank it_) Another. (_she pours out another--aside_) If Sweet could but see me now! (_aloud_) What a nice little parlour maid you would make, Loo--why you are prettier than ever! (_chucks her under the chin, and takes her by the hand to draw her towards him_) MRS. SHORT. (_with disinclination to meet his advance_) Oh, how cold your hand is, (_breaking away from him, and running towards the bell, L._) let me ring and tell them to light a fire for you. SHORT. No, no, never mind. Come here, I want to talk to you. Pour me out another glass of wine. MRS. SHORT. (_observing him_) My dear! A third glass before dinner. SHORT. Why not? It warms me and does me good--come, give me a buss. (_drawing her towards him_) MRS. SHORT. (_breaking away from him_) Oh! oh! SHORT. Why, what one earth's the matter? MRS. SHORT. Only a sudden stitch. (_keeping at a distance_) SHORT. I tell you I want to have a chat with you--come, sit by me. MRS. SHORT. (_taking her work and sitting at table, L._) Very well, what shall we chat about? SHORT. Don't sit so far off. (_he is about to rise to go nearer to her, but sinks back again into the chair_) There's my leg again! Weugh!--what a grinder!--I haven't got rid of my gout yet. (_about to rise_) MRS. SHORT. (_running to him with footstool_) Don't get up! Don't get up! you'll hurt yourself--here, take this footstool. SHORT. (_rubbing his leg, and putting it on footstool, and then sits, L._) Ah! that's better! That's more comfortable! (_aside_) If that silly fellow, Sweet, could but see me! (_aloud_) I am as snug now as a bug in a rug--what would poor Sweet give to exchange places with me--this spring cushion instead of a hard saddle, and his leg up at his ease!--talking of _him_ reminds me you haven't told me who's their friend this morning? (_she seems to hesitate_) What don't you know? MRS. SHORT. (_confused_) Yes, oh yes--Mr. Billington, I believe. SHORT. Oh, Mr. Billington is it--a friend of the Sweet's--let's see, we dine there to-day--a remarkably nice young man that Mr. Billington--he is particularly civil to me lately whenever he meets me in the City--I am sure nothing could be more polite and attentive than his behaviour to us that night at the Sweet's, in town just before we came down here--by the bye, how is it he never comes to _our_ house? MRS. SHORT. (_confused_) Why--I--I--never asked him--you know you are so much away from home--I am so often alone that I-- SHORT. You are quite right, my dear--perfectly correct, certainly! Appearances must be attended to--very proper conduct on your part--delicate and correct in the extreme. (_aside_) Ecod--Sweet's right! I am the happiest fellow under the sun. _Enter STEPHEN, L. C._ STEPH. Oh, sir! oh mum! such a shocking thing! MRS. SHORT. Good gracious, Stephen, what's the matter? STEPH. Oh, the poor gentleman! Poor Mr. Sweet! SHORT. Why, what has happened to him? STEPH. Oh, horrorble, sir! tremengeous! Throwed from his 'orse! dashed his self to pieces! MRS. SHORT. Oh, good heavens, where is he? SHORT. Ah, this comes of steady men of business taking to riding, when they're turned of five and forty! Poor fellow, poor fellow! _Enter SWEET, L. C., frightened out of his wits, leaning on his wife and STEPHEN, apparently in great pain--MRS. SHORT and SHORT run to meet him._ SWEET. Oh, oh! SHORT. My dear friend, what is it, tell me! SWEET. (_in a feeble voice_) Thrown--thrown from my horse. MRS. SWEET. (_with the greatest solicitude and affection_) _My poor_ husband! Quick, quick, the sofa! (_STEPHEN wheels sofa to C._) Lay him on the sofa!--gently!--there place you head upon my arm. Where is it you're in pain? _Do_ tell us? SWEET. Oh, oh--here--here--there! (_seated on sofa, C._) MRS. SWEET. Run, Stephen, as fast as your legs will carry you for Mr. Sawbone. SWEET. No, no, I won't see him, he'll cut both my legs off. MRS. SWEET. (_to STEPHEN_) Get your hat, we'll send you word if you are to go. STEPH. Yes, mum. (_aside as he goes out looking at SWEET_) Well, he _has_ gone and smashed his self. _Exit, L. C._ SHORT. (_examining and bending first his legs and then his arms_) Courage! come, let me see where you're hurt. SWEET. (_the moment he is touched_) Oh, oh! SHORT. Have you broken a limb? (_examining_) No, your legs are all sound, and so are your arms. Come, sit up, man, you're more frightened than hurt. MRS. SWEET. Mercy be praised! How thankful I am! SHORT. (_to SWEET_) What a turn you have given me. Pour me out a glass of wine, Loo. (_MRS. SHORT pours out a glass of wine, and as she is carrying it to him, MRS. SWEET takes it out of her hand, and gives it to SWEET, who drinks it_) MRS. SWEET. (_to MRS. SHORT as she takes the wine_) Thank you. SHORT. (_looking astonished_) That was meant for me! MRS. SWEET. (_to SWEET, not hearing SHORT_) How are you now, my dear? SWEET. Well, I feel a little better, but there's something gone! I'm sure I felt it go! (_unbuttoning his waistcoat and feeling_) SHORT. Yes, it's one of your brace buttons, don't you see. MRS. SHORT. (_to MRS. SWEET_) How pale you are, Fanny! MRS. SWEET. (_recovering from her alarm_) It is passing off now. I have had a little fright, that's all. SHORT. (_to SWEET_) You would go showing off your horsemanship, and see what has come of it. SWEET. Not at all, I assure you. I was going along as quietly as possible, getting gradually more confident and comfortable, when all of a sudden a cursed little brute of a cur ran out of a yard close by, and flew at the horse's throat. I thought something was going to happen by the look of the mare's ears--and just as I was about to let go the bridle and catch hold of the mane, up went her heels into the air, and I was shot like a bullet from a gun slap over her head into the road. SHORT. And poor little pug was kicked to death, I suppose. SWEET. No, I had my revenge. SHORT. How do you mean? SWEET. Why, I came down in a sitting posture, plump on his back--one squeak, and it was all over. MRS. SWEET. (_seeing that nothing is the matter with her husband_) Come, William, I think you are nearly all right again now. SWEET. Yes, my dear, thank you, I shall get round again in a day or two, I dare say. You were far more frightened than I was. MRS. SWEET. (_smiling_) Oh come, William, I am not quite so sure about that. Now the danger is over we can afford, you know, to laugh at it. (_playfully_) You were not _at all_ alarmed, were you, dear? Ha, ha! and the droll manner in which you fell, ha, ha! SHORT. Exactly; it certainly broke his fall, and the dog's back at the same time. Much better than falling the other way. Ha, ha, ha! MRS. SWEET. (_with good-humoured merriment_) Ha, ha, ha! Only picture to yourselves my husband's attitude after his descent, comfortably sitting in the middle of the road without his hat. Ha, ha, ha! SHORT. Ha, ha, ha! With all the dirty little vagabonds in the parish gathered around him! Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. (_getting offended_) I'm glad you're amused! I really don't see the joke. MRS. SHORT. (_aside, to MRS. SWEET_) Don't, Fanny! he don't like it. MRS. SWEET. (_thrusting her handkerchief in her mouth_) I oughtn't to laugh, perhaps, but I positively can't help it! Ha, ha, ha! SHORT. No, it makes one laugh in spite of one'self! Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. (_more offended_) Really, Mrs. Sweet, I consider this behaviour of yours very extraordinary--not to say disgusting! Here have I been within a hair's breadth of losing my life, and you are turning the whole thing into ridicule. MRS. SWEET. Nay--now, don't be angry--I can't help myself. Ha, ha, ha! SHORT. Ha, ha, ha! Just imagine our friend here magnificently enthroned in the gutter on the body of his prostrate enemy. Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. Mr. Short--sir, leave off! SHORT. Well, it is not my fault--it was your wife set me off. Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. (_looking angrily at his wife_) Yes, I know it was; and her preposterous merriment explores her great want of feeling--the stony nature of her heart! MRS. SWEET. (_trying in vain to repress her laughter_) Nay, now, Willie-- SWEET. Yes, ma'am, I repeat it--the stony nature of your heart! MRS. SWEET. Now, Willie, it's ill-natured of you to say that. If I could, for laughing, I should be angry with you. Ha, ha, ha! I _cannot_ stop myself! Ha, ha, ha! SWEET. Damn it, madam--will you leave off? MRS. SWEET. I can't, William. Ha, ha, ha! The whole thing seems so absurd to me now it's all over, that I really can't contain myself! Ha, ha, ha! I shall do myself an injury! Ha, ha, ha! I'll go out of the room, since it offends you. Ha, ha, ha, ha! _Exit, bursting with irresistible laughter, L. 2 E._ SWEET. (_pacing the stage in a passion_) Such scandalous want of feeling is abominable!--revolting! MRS. SHORT. (_trying to pacify him_) Mr. Sweet, pray-- SWEET. (_interrupting her, and crossing to L._) No, Mrs. Short--I appeal to you--I appeal to you, ma'am--suppose this misfortune had happened to Short, do you think for one moment that _you_ would have been capable of such behaviour? (_crosses to R._) SHORT. Ah, Sweet!--but there's no arguing by comparisons--all women are not of the same sensitive disposition as my Louisa. I flatter myself they don't all feel things alike. MRS. SHORT. But Fanny is the most affectionate creature in the world, and I am sure, Mr. Sweet, is very sincerely attached to you. It was evidently quite an hysterical affection wholly beyond her power to control--one of those irresistible fits of laughter that we are all of us subject to at times. SWEET. No, I shan't pass it off so easily, I assure you. How does she know what may be the end of it? There may be after symptoms. MRS. SHORT. Oh, don't let us think of that--I trust that you are not seriously hurt. Come now, I'll go and fetch her--you must kiss and be friends--you must indeed. _Enter MARIA, door, L. 2. E._ MARIA. My mistress wishes to see you, ma'am. MRS. SHORT. Very well, Maria--I'll come directly. _Exit MARIA, door, L. 2 E._ (_to SWEET_) There, you see, she has sent for me to make it up with you. SWEET. Mrs. Short--listen to me. MRS. SHORT. No, no--I'll not hear another word. You must be reconciled to your wife this very minute on pain of my severe displeasure. (_SWEET is about to object_) No, no, I can't hear you--not half a syllable--I shall run and fetch her. _Exit, door, L. 2 E._ SWEET. What a treasure you have in that woman, Short--she is a perfect pattern--a model--an incomparable model of conjugal devotedness. It's a good thing for you I didn't see her first. (_sits on sofa, C._) SHORT. My dear friend, women are neither more nor less than what we make them, at least in marriage. Louisa was not always the docile obedient wife you now see her, not of course till all the tomfoolery of the honeymoon was over, and I began to take the proper tone. SWEET. (_rises_) Ah, why didn't _I_ take the proper tone. SHORT. Exactly. (_rises_) But it requires a peculiar tact--the method of proceeding, I believe, is a secret not possessed by all. SWEET. Take pity on me, Short--tell it me--show me how you do it, and you'll bind me to you for life. SHORT. You want firmness--you give way--and when once a married man, you know, allows _two_ voices in his house, it soon ends in there being only _one_, and, you'll excuse me, Sweet, the result is, he is led by the nose by his own wife, as "Iago" says in the play, "as tenderly as asses are." SWEET. Yes, I am afraid I _have_ been a very _great_ ass, but shall I suffer this state of things to go on till I become the laughing stock of all my friends? No, never! I can't sleep at nights for thinking of the difference between your wife and mine. Zounds! I'm resolved I won't put up with it any longer! I'll be as much master in my own house as you are--every jot as much. Who the devil are you that you should carry it over me in this sort of way? Do you hear what I say, Short? I insist upon being as much minded as you are, sir? I insist upon it! What can I do to show my authority? I have it! I won't go to the opera to-night!--I won't dine at Billington's--what do I care for his mock turtle!--d--n his milk punch! I know she has set her heart upon it, but I won't go. There'll be a precious kick up. She'll fly into a passion--fall a crying--perhaps, have a fit--and shall I give way? No, I'll stand like a rock! SHORT. Well said! bravo! but you'll be sure to give in again. SWEET. Give in--you shall see! SHORT. If you only keep your word you'll be sure to succeed. SWEET. Oh, I have been too much of a nincompoop all this while--too good-natured--too indulgent--too---- SHORT. Hush, they'll hear you! Here they come--now _mind._ SWEET. (L.) Don't you trouble yourself, I'm just in the humour for her! _Enter MRS. SWEET and MRS. SHORT, door, L. 2 E.--MARIA following with an evening dress on her arm--STEPHEN enters, L. C., and wheels back sofa to R. in flat._ MRS. SHORT. Never mind, Fanny--why, what a child you are--don't let the dress put you out of temper, I am sure I can alter it for you. (_to MARIA_) Lay it carefully on the bed. _Exit MARIA, door, L. 1 E._ (_to MRS. SWEET_) You must come and dress in my room. MRS. SWEET. Was there ever anything so vexatious? Stupid creature! (_sits, L._) _STEPHEN removes luncheon and exit, L. C._ SWEET. (_aside to MRS. SHORT_) Well? MRS. SHORT. (_not at first understanding him_) Eh? Oh yes! (_aside_) Well, I spoke to her about it, and I am sure she is very sorry for what took place, so you mustn't think any more of it. SHORT. (_aside to SWEET_) Be firm--show determination! MRS. SHORT. (_aside to SWEET_) You promised me, you know, to make it up with her. SHORT. (_aside to MRS. SHORT_) This is no place for us just now, hadn't you better go and dress? MRS. SHORT. Wait a moment, I want just to speak---- SHORT. (_authoritatively_) My dear! MRS. SHORT. (_intimidated_) Very well. SWEET. (_observing them_) Astonishing! One work and he is obeyed at once. SHORT. (_aside to SWEET_) Recollect! SWEET. (_aside to SHORT_) Never fear. SHORT. (_to his wife_) Now if you please. _Exit SHORT and MRS. SHORT, door, L. 1 E._ SWEET. Mrs. Short is right--she seems vexed, perhaps she is really sorry. MRS. SWEET. (_rising_) These things only happen to me. SWEET. Whose fault is that, ma'am? MRS. SWEET. How was I to know I should be so misunderstood? SWEET. You should be more particular in what you say then. Think before you speak. MRS. SWEET. Well, so I thought I did. I am quite grieved about it. (_rings bell_) _Enter MARIA, door, L. 1 E._ MRS. SWEET. Has Mr. Billington's aunt sent the book of the fashions she promised the other day to Mrs. Short? MARIA. No, ma'am. MRS. SWEET. Send Stephen for it directly then, and as soon as it comes bring it to me--don't make any mistake now, bring it to me--you understand? MARIA. Very well, ma'am. _Exit, L. C._ SWEET. (_aside_) She is off at a tangent now, about her finery. (_aloud_) Your grief appears to be of short duration, ma'am. MRS. SWEET. I am sure I was quite in despair about it, but Louisa has kindly undertaken to put matters to rights for me. SWEET. Mrs. Short, then, has undertaken more than she has any authority for, and may find the task more difficult than she supposes. MRS. SWEET. Oh, I hope not, but if she doesn't succeed, I shall go another way to work--a sharp knife will soon settle the business. SWEET. (_staggers back horrified_) A sharp knife!--you alarm me. What for? MRS. SWEET. What for?--why to rip up the seam of my dress to be sure--I want the upper skirt open at the side, trimmed with flowers--there's nothing more becoming. SWEET. (_in disgust_) Trimmed with flowers! Fool, to suppose that _I_ was in any way concerned in your vexation. MRS. SWEET. You--of course not--how should that concern you? SWEET. You have the face to ask me the question after your scandalous behaviour just now? MRS. SWEET. Oh, that's what you've been driving at all this while--I didn't understand you--you don't mean to say that you are still in a bad temper about my joking you. (_laughs_) There I ask your pardon? Shall I go down upon my knees? SWEET. No, by no means; laugh again, ma'am, if you like--pray don't restrain yourself--but you will find for the future that I shan't give way to all your whims and fancies quite as easily as I have done--it doesn't answer. (_crosses to L._) MRS. SWEET. Come, now Willie, I didn't mean to offend you, (_smiling_) the danger was all past you know. SWEET. No, ma'am, I am not in a laughing humour to-day, and as I see nothing amusing in what has happened to me, and don't feel disposed to go out, you will be pleased to stay at home to-night, ma'am. MRS. SWEET. (_smiling_) Very well. SWEET. Yes, but I mean it, Mrs. Sweet; I am not well--I am suffering from the effects of my accident--wounded both in mind and body. (_crosses to R._) MRS. SWEET. Where? Why didn't you see the doctor, then, when I wished you? SWEET. Zounds, ma'am! a man may be wounded without having all his bones broken--besides, I am not obliged to give a reason--I don't choose to go, and I request you not to go either--I _order_ you not to go! MRS. SWEET. Oh, very well, sir, as you please, of course; but since you feel yourself so very, very ill, why on earth don't you go to bed? SWEET. Because I prefer to sit up. (_sits, R._) MRS. SWEET. Then you must allow me to say that your not going to-night is a mere caprice, you would be just as well at the opera as sitting up in this room. SWEET. Possibly! but I don't mean to put it to the proof. MRS. SWEET. (_altering her manner_) What, not for _my_ sake, Willie, not if I coax you? I _do so_ wish to go, it is so seldom I have an opportunity of going to the opera. SWEET. No, it's of no use--I tell you I won't go! MRS. SWEET. Really, this behaviour is most unpardonable, why you are a completely altered man--I am surprised at you! SWEET. Yes, ma'am, I _am_ altered--totally altered! (_crosses to L._) I have given way for the last time, and you'll be much _more_ surprised when you find that I am firm--determined--fixed! MRS. SWEET. Well, I have never seen you in such a detestable temper before in all my life. SWEET. You provoke me, ma'am! I am tired of being contradicted! Tired of it! MRS. SWEET. What _can_ you mean, William? Why, if any one saw us we should be set down for the most unhappy couple in the world. SWEET. So we are, Mrs. Sweet! so we are! although I wasn't aware of till we came down here a month ago to these lodgings with the Shorts,--I was contented enough before then, happy as the days were long--sometimes giving into _your_ way, sometimes getting my own,--but I was a fool then, and didn't know any better! Look at Short--my eyes are opened now--see how much happier he is with _his wife_ than _I_ am with _you!_ I wish, ma'am, to be obeyed like Short--to be observed like Short--to be doated on like Short--to be caressed like Short--to be petted like Short--to be patted like Short--to be _fat_ like Short! Why ain't I of as much consequence as he is? Why is he always obeyed when I am not? (_crosses to R._) MRS. SWEET. Because he is less extravagant in his desires, I suppose. SWEET. How, ma'am! MRS. SWEET. Or else, perhaps, because he has a more amiable way of making his wishes understood. In a word--because he doesn't resemble you. SWEET. This is downright personality--I give you fair warning--I am getting into a most enormous passion! _Enter STEPHEN, L. C._ STEPH. Mr. Billington is here, ma'am. SWEET. We're not at home. (_crosses to L._) What does he want? STEPH. He says, sir, he waited this morning nearly an hour in front of the Crystal Palace, according to appointment, and finding that you didn't come he has called to enquire if there is anything the matter. SWEET. We can't see him--we're not at home. MRS. SWEET. Impossible, you can't mean it! What now, he is in the house? SWEET. (_to STEPHEN_) Do you hear what I say? _Exit STEPHEN, L. C._ MRS. SWEET. I never would have believed that you could have behaved like this--what _will_ Mr. Billington think of us? SWEET. What do I care? MRS. SWEET. You _must_ go to-night now, if it be only to apologize to him--after keeping him waiting, too, all the morning. SWEET. It will be time enough to-morrow--I shall see him in the City. MRS. SWEET. I don't understand your conduct, William--it must be simply to vex and annoy _me_, that you refuse to accompany me this evening. SWEET. No, ma'am, I am acting advisedly, on principle. MRS. SWEET. Very well, sir--I see your object. You have determined to make me unhappy, and you have perfectly succeeded. I am not accustomed to these insane transports of passion, without the slightest motive. Your cruel treatment has wounded me to that degree! (_crying_) What have I done to deserve it? SWEET. (_softened_) Why, I can't help feeling---- MRS. SWEET. So happy as we always lived together, till we came down here. You'll repent of this behaviour before long, depend upon it. I see how it is--you want to make me your slave--the mere echo of your own lordly will. Very well, sir--I submit; henceforward, you shall find me the most submissive of wives--every wish shall be acquiesced in--every command obeyed: but--(_sobbing_)--I--I shall never--never love you any more! (_crossing, L., SWEET follows her, entreating, &c., down, C._) SWEET. (_moved by her tears_) But Mrs. Sweet--Fanny--my dear--don't cry--you _shall_ go to the Opera--I'll go with you--we'll _all_ go to the Opera! MRS. SWEET. (_sobbing_) Oh, how unhappy you have made me! (_sobbing_) I'll go,--go and dress myself, William, and then, perhaps, when you're left to yourself, you'll be sor--sorry for what you have done! _Exit, sobbing, through door, L. 1 E._ SWEET. (_wiping his eyes_) I have behaved like a barbarian to her. _Enter SHORT, door, L. 1 E._ SHORT. Well, did it succeed? SWEET. (_testily_) No, it didn't. SHORT. You astonish me. SWEET. I am ten times more unhappy than I was before. I made her cry, and I can't bear it. SHORT. Well, it is rather painful at first, but it will come easier by and bye. SWEET. I tell you, then, I feel I have been making a brute of myself, all through your confounded advice. SHORT. How, Sweet? What's that you say? SWEET. Certainly! Haven't you been boasting about your happiness, and your influence over your wife, ever since you have been down here? What the devil was that to me? What was it to me whether she contradicted you or not? _My_ wife _was_ in the habit of contradicting me, and I was accustomed to it. SHORT. Come--come! SWEET. I shan't! I say you have destroyed all my domestic peace! (_crossing to L._) SHORT. You misunderstand me, Sweet. Is that the way to talk to a friend? SWEET. You are no friend of mine--you're an interfering meddling old fellow. That has always been your great fault--interfering in what doesn't concern you! (_sits, L._) SHORT. Come, I say, that's a little too strong! Weren't you everlastingly boring me with your complaints--how I did this, and how I did t'other. Why I was always able to get my own way, when you couldn't get yours. Well, then, since you're so ungrateful--since you put me to it--I'll tell you why. Simply because your wife doesn't care a straw for you! SWEET. (_rises_) Short! SHORT. No, not a button, depend upon it. SWEET. It's false--she does. Give me your reason for saying so. SHORT. What better proof of it can you have than the fact of you not being happy with her? You see how happy I am with mine. SWEET. Not happy with her! Do you mean seriously to insinuate that I am not happy with her? Take care what you are doing, Short. Don't try to disenchant my life with horrible suspicions, but even if it were so, I shall never win her back to me by violence and quarrelling. (_sits, L._) SHORT. Of course not, I never think of quarrelling with my wife, and as to violence, I hate it--on the contrary, I sometimes show her little delicate attentions which women know well how to appreciate--for instance, she is going to the Opera to-night--well, what do I do? Why I send up to Covent Garden market, and buy her a bouquet. Billington was going to buy some for himself, and I entrusted him with the commission. (_SWEET rises and runs, C._) Where are you going? SWEET. To buy something for my wife. SHORT. Buy something--what? SWEET. I don't know--anything--half a dozen things--everything I can find. SHORT. Stay, stay! SWEET. Don't hinder me! Let's see, have I any money--yes, all right! I'll tell them to send in their whole stock for selection--the first shop I come to. SHORT. (_detaining him_) Sweet, don't be a fool--the first shop you come to's a pork butcher's! _Enter MARIA, L. C., with the book of the fashions._ SWEET. Well, what do you want? MARIA. I beg your pardon, sir, I though my mistress was here. SWEET. She's in Mrs. Short's room. What's that? (_pointing to the book_) MARIA. The fashion book, sir. SWEET. A capital thought. Give it to me. MARIA. My mistress told me most particularly, sir, not to give it to any one but her. SWEET. Never mind; I'll take it to her myself. (_MARIA gives the book_) There, that will do. I'll see to it. MARIA. Thank you, sir. _Exit door, L. 2 E._ SWEET. I am glad I've got hold of this first; perhaps I shall be able to find something she might take a fancy to. I know her taste. (_opens the book_) SHORT. (_aside_) He'll never get on with his wife; he has no tact--not the slightest. (_observing SWEET_) Good gracious! Sweet, what's the matter? don't you feel well? SWEET. What's this? SHORT. What is it? Why you see what it is; the book of the fashions. SWEET. (L.) What can it mean? SHORT. (_R.--looking into the book_) A note! SWEET. Written in pencil! without address or signature! SHORT. (_feeling for his spectacles_) Where are my spectacles? SWEET. Why am I afraid to read it? Why do I tremble from head to foot? I am in a cold perspiration! Short! SHORT. Written in pencil. SWEET. I have seen the hand somewhere. SHORT. Whose do you think it is? SWEET. It strikes me all at once! It's Billington's! SHORT. Stop an instant, let me go and find my glasses. SWEET. (_seizing hold of his arm_) Did you mark what the girl said, that she was to be sure and give the book to nobody but my wife? SHORT. Yes, I heard her say that. SWEET. Let me read. (_reads_) "I waited for you all the morning." So he did! SHORT. Go on. SWEET. (_reads_) "I am afraid to ask why you didn't come. It is now five days since I have seen you; this is cruel, but I implore of you to give me an interview to-morrow in the lane at the back of the house at 2 o'clock if it be but for ten minutes. We shall meet this evening, but I shall have no opportunity of being alone with you. You will not refuse if you return the feelings that are consuming me." (_they look at each other, then after a short pause, SWEET falls into SHORT'S arms_) SHORT. Take care, you'll have me down! Bear it like a man! There, take this chair; try and recover yourself. (_he supports him to a chair, R._) SWEET. (_sinking into the chair_) Oh, Short! SHORT. Never mind, my dear fellow, I'll stand by you. I'm your friend. SWEET. Oh for some vent to my feelings!--something to tear! (_he snatches SHORT'S handkerchief from his pocket and tears it_) SHORT. What the devil are you doing? That's one of my best half-dozen French cambric. (_gathering up the pieces and putting them into his pocket_) SWEET. (_starting up_) Short, are you a good pistol shot? SHORT. (_staggered by the question_) A good pistol shot? no, I never fired a pistol in my life. SWEET. You'll revenge me if I fall? I expect it of you as my friend; you said you'd stand by me. SHORT. You don't mean to say you're going to challenge him? SWEET. What, not after he has seduced my wife's affections? SHORT. (_aside_) What a lucky thing Louisa never asked him to call. SWEET. Fight him, yes! across a handkerchief, in my shirt sleeves, with a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other; you surely don't mean that you would be likely to take any active steps to prevent the meeting? SHORT. Certainly not, if you don't wish it. SWEET. What you wouldn't for instance, you think, be likely to go before a magistrate, or anything of that sort? SHORT. (_laying his hand upon his heart_) You may rely upon my friendship for not interfering. SWEET. (_aside_) He can't be in earnest. (_aloud_) Why you are as bloodthirsty as I am--the traitress! that was why she was so anxious to see him when he called; that was why she wanted to go the Opera to-night. But let me seek for some further proof against her--something to utterly confound her. (_he begins to read the letter to himself_) SHORT. (_also trying to read the letter over SWEET'S shoulder_) I can't see a word without my glasses, what can I have done with them? Wait a moment, they must be somewhere in the room. (_he goes to the back of the stage to look for his glasses, and discovers to the Audience that they are hanging at his back_) SWEET. (_reading to himself in a low tone, while SHORT is searching for his spectacles at the back_) Ah! "If you grant my request, carry the bouquet of violets to-night, which I have taken measures for your receiving from a safe hand, which can awaken no suspicion." (_aloud--shouting_) The viper! SHORT. (_giving up the search, and coming forward_) What have you found? anything fresh? SWEET. (_showing him the letter_) Look--read--judge for yourself? SHORT. (_trying in vain to read the letter_) No, it's no use--confound it, I can't make out a word. SWEET. A signal! a signal, Short! think of that! They are actually carry on a secret correspondence, by means of signals. SHORT. What signals? Why the devil don't you read the letter? SWEET. She shall _go_ to-night, _she shall go_, but I'll _watch_ her like a lynx. SHORT. Now be prudent; let me intreat of you to do nothing rashly. SWEET. (_vehemently, putting back the letter into the book_) I'll give it her with my own hand, and she how she takes it! SHORT. (_restraining him_) No, no, no; let me beg of you. In your present state of excitement it would be madness; let _me_ give it to her, I shall be able to see more than you will, I am cooler--more collected. SWEET. Do you think so? Well, perhaps you are right. (_gives SHORT the book_) SHORT. Leave me to deal with her alone, Sweet; you are not fit to be trusted just at present. Go and dress, go to your own room, and endeavour to calm yourself. SWEET. Calm myself? Ha, ha! I have a good mind to jump out of the window! Don't leave me long, or I shall do myself a mischief--I'm in a state of desperation. (_seizes a knife from the table--SHORT takes it from him--exit through door, R._) SHORT. Poor fellow, he's in a pitiable condition; but he has brought it all upon himself, by over-indulging his wife to that absurd extent that he has completely ruined his own domestic happiness. It might have been just the same with me, if I had been fool enough to walk in his footsteps. I wish I could make out the contents of this letter though! Stay! _Enter MRS. SWEET and MRS. SHORT, as he is about to open the book, door, L. 1 E., in evening dress, both carrying bouquets._ MRS. SWEET. (_looking down at the dress she wears_) The dress looks as well again so--I am delighted with the alteration. SHORT. (_aside_) What tranquility in guilt--she's a cool hand! MRS. SWEET. (_seeing SHORT_) What, not ready yet, Mr. Short? Won't you be late? Where is my husband? SHORT. (_with an absurd assumption of dignity_) He is dressing, madam. MRS. SWEET. (_surprised at his manner_) Well, that is a very singular manner of telling me so! SHORT. I am not aware, madam, that there is anything more singular in my manner than in another's. (_with ridiculous significance, after a pause_) Allow me to give you this book. MRS. SWEET. (_taking it quickly_) Oh, here it is at last--thank you! SHORT. (_aside_) How she betrays herself! MRS. SWEET. I am afraid, Mr. Short, something has put you out. SHORT. Possibly something has, madam. _Exit, door, R._ MRS. SWEET. (_looking after him_) What is the matter with your husband, Louisa? He appears to be in the high ropes about something. MRS. SHORT. (_anxiously_) I haven't the smallest idea--he seemed very strange. MRS. SWEET. He's an oddity! I could scarcely keep my countenance, although I am by no means in a merry humour. The gentlemen are bewitched, I think--_my_ good man in not in a _very_ amiable frame of mind either. Ah, well, we must leave them alone, and they'll come round at their leisure, I suppose. MRS. SHORT. (_anxiously_) What can be the reason, I wonder? MRS. SWEET. There, now, you're going to torment yourself about that. Why don't you treat these things as I do? You are always in a state of adoration of your husband--to his face, too. It is really very absurd of you, and is quite spoiling him--besides, it is not only bad policy as far are you are concerned, but it does me a positive injury also. Here have I had a regular scene with William, and have been indulged with some charming comparisons in your favour. (_she carelessly opens the book, and looks at the pictures_) Oh, come, you have succeeded most admirably with my dress. See--look here--(_comparing the dress she has on with the one in the book_)--it is exactly as you have done it. MRS. SHORT. (_in an absent manner, scarcely looking at it_) Yes, I see. MRS. SWEET. (_picking up the note which has fallen out of the book_) Why, here's a note. Louisa, you are dreaming--see, here's a note. MRS. SHORT. (_quickly_) A note? MRS. SWEET. Yes--fallen out of the book. Is it for us, do you think? I seem to know the hand--to be sure, it is Mr. Billington's. MRS. SHORT. (_glancing at the writing_) No, no--put it back again--put it back again into the book. MRS. SWEET. What for? What a hurry you're in! MRS. SHORT. (_trying to get hold of the note, which MRS. SWEET holds from her_) No, my dear Fanny, we have no right to read it; consider, it may have been sent in mistake! MRS. SWEET. There appears to be neither address nor signature. Oh, it's some message about returning the book. (_reads_) "I waited for you all the morning--I am afraid to ask why you didn't come--It is now five days since I saw you--this is cruel; but I implore of you to give me an interview to-morrow in the lane at the back of the house, at two o'clock, if it be only for ten minutes. We shall meet this evening, but I shall have no opportunity of being alone with you. You will not refuse if you return the feelings that are consuming me." MRS. SHORT. (_interrupting her in great confusion_) Fanny, how can you! pray put it back again! MRS. SWEET. (_continuing to read_) "If you grant my request carry the bouquet of violets to-night, (_she stops and looks at MRS. SHORT'S bouquet, then goes on_) which I have taken measures for your receiving from a safe hand which can awaken no suspicion." An extraordinary epistle! (_to MRS. SHORT, who is in great confusion, and hangs down her head_) That bouquet!--those conscious blushes! Very pretty, upon my honour! Louisa, what am I to think of all this? MRS. SHORT. (_with energy, looking up_) Think of it: why think that I have been persecuted with the attentions of a coxcomb! whom I have never encouraged by word or look! MRS. SWEET. _Persecuted!_ poor martyr! MRS. SHORT. How could I for an instant imagine that he would presume to take such a liberty. MRS. SWEET. Come now, you had better make a clean breast of it--this has been one of your quiet flirtations. MRS. SHORT. Flirtations! If the man would persist in his attentions how could I help it? You know I could not be absolutely rude to him. MRS. SWEET. (_bantering her, and holding up the letter_) Is this one of his _attentions?_ MRS. SHORT. No; the most extravagant height of consummate impudence; and if I were not frightened out of my senses I should go into fits of laughter. MRS. SWEET. Come, come, _Mrs. Demure;_ I'll have no more of this--I shall take the liberty of destroying this delectable note. (_tearing it to pieces, and putting them into her pocket_) MRS. SHORT. Don't scold me, for if I have been silly and a little indiscreet--which mind I don't confess--I have been sufficiently punished for it, for I haven't had a minute's peace of mind ever since we have been down here, and, after all, is there no excuse for me--see how I am treated!--he starts at the sound of a rat, runs away from the bark of a dog, and couldn't be induced to mount a horse if his life depended on it, but he is not afraid to coerce and bully a poor defenceless wife. (_wiping away a tear_) I am sure if my husband would only be a twentieth part as kind to me as dear Mr. Sweet is to you I wouldn't give him a moment's vexation for the world. MRS. SWEET. Nonsense, Loo, it isn't worth a tear, and you know I have always told you it is all your own fault. You don't go the right way to work with him. I tell you what it is, my dear, you are too amiable by half, both at home and _abroad_; but don't alarm yourself, there is no great harm done, if we can only keep the knowledge of all this ridiculous nonsense from our husbands; but judging from Mr. Short's delightful air just now I am not quite sure that that will be altogether so easy, but mind, ma'am, no more _persecutions_, no more flirting. MRS. SHORT. Only help me out of the scrape like a good dear creature, and if ever I expose myself to anything of the kind again, may I---- MRS. SWEET. (_aside, making a sign to signify that their husbands are coming_) Don't be seen with that bouquet in your hand. Let us exchange! Take mine! (_they exchange bouquets_) MRS. SHORT. (_whispering_) How shall we find an excuse for not going? MRS. SWEET. (_whispering_) Never mind that now. Don't be frightened--keep close to me, and if I give you a hint, be sure to take it. _Enter SWEET and SHORT, through door, R., in evening dress._ SHORT. (_aside to SWEET_) Be careful now what you say. SWEET. (_seeing the bouquet in his wife's hands_) There it is, under my very nose! SHORT. (_aside_) What? SWEET. (_aside_) The bouquet! SHORT. (_looking through his eye glass_) I can't make it out very well at this distance, but there is nothing extraordinary in her having a bouquet, so has my wife. MRS. SWEET. (_affecting an air of gaiety_) Well, you see we are dressed first. SWEET. (_struggling to keep down his feelings_) So I perceive. SHORT. So we perceive, ma'am. MRS. SWEET. (_aside to MRS. SHORT_) My husband is in the secret, that is quite clear. (_aloud to SWEET and SHORT_) You are such beaux, you see, that you have kept us waiting. SWEET. We must have been a very long time dressing, Short, or else these ladies must be very impatient to set out. SHORT. True, Sweet, your remark is obviously correct. SWEET. (_looking at his wife_) Minutes seems hours when the mind is on the stretch of expectation. SHORT. (_aside to SWEET, pulling him by the skirts of his coat_) Ah! that's all wrong! Take care! SWEET. We shall be in plenty of time, ladies. SHORT. (_aside_) That's better--keep to the plural number, it sounds less particular. SWEET. We shall not be the last to arrive, I dare say. (_rings the bell_) _Enter STEPHEN, L. C._ Is the coach at the door, Stephen? STEPH. Yes, sir, I was just coming to tell you as you rung. SWEET. (_aside_) I am suffocating! MRS. SWEET. (_to SWEET_) My dear, do you still feel disinclined to go? SWEET. (_shouting_) No; not at all! (_to STEPHEN_) Give me my hat! (_STEPHEN takes up his hat from the sofa, which he keeps in his hand_) Not at all! (_aside_) If Stephen, now, would but let my hat fall to give me an excuse for going into a passion. (_aloud to STEPHEN_) What are you doing with my hat, sir? STEPH. Me, sir; nothing, sir. SWEET. Ah! sir! do you dare to answer me, you scoundrel! Leave the room, sir, or I'll kick you down stairs! STEPH. (_aside, putting down the hat_) Master's mad--I wasn't doing anything with the hat. _Exit, C. L._ SWEET. Well, why don't we go? MRS. SWEET. We none of us seem very well inclined to do that. SWEET. Why not! I never felt more disposed to go out in my life! I am in extacies at the thought of it: so is Short. SHORT. (_lugubriously_) Very much so, indeed, Sweet. SWEET. (_looking at his wife_) Short and I it is true are no great hands at flirting with the ladies, but we can look on and see _others_ doing so! SHORT. (_aside--pulling him by the sleeve_) Sweet! Sweet! SWEET. (_disregarding SHORT, and looking hard at his wife_) Yes, ma'am, I say we can look on and see _others_ doing so! SHORT. (_aside_) He'll spoil all. It's impossible to restrain him! MRS. SWEET. (_aside to her husband, and covertly pointing to SHORT_) Don't for goodness' sake make matters worse! SWEET. Make matters worse! Short, ma'am, is in my confidence! MRS. SWEET. (_aside--perplexed_) I am lost--I can't make it out. MRS. SHORT. (_aside_) What does he mean? SWEET. (_to his wife_) It was on _my_ account, doubtless, that you were so particular about you dress--to please _me!_ MRS. SWEET. Well, yes--don't you like it! SWEET. And this bouquet: that, too, was to please me, I suppose! SHORT. (_aside to MRS. SHORT, after crossing behind to L. of her_) What did you give her my bouquet for? SWEET. This bouquet! that you have been feasting your eyes on ever since I have been in the room: that you haven't had a minute out of your hand! Give it to me! (_snatching it out of her hand_) See how _I_ prize it too! (_he raises his arm, and is about to dash it violently to the ground_) SHORT. (_crossing to SWEET, and seizing hold of his arm_) Stop--stop, I say! What are you about? Don't destroy my wife's bouquet! SWEET. (_after a pause of amazement_) What's that? _Your_--_your_ wife's bouquet? Do you mean to say that this--this bouquet belongs to Mrs. Short? SHORT. To be sure I do? Didn't I bring it all the way from the City on purpose to make her a present of it? SWEET. (_aside_) Weugh! (_embraces his wife_) Laugh at me again, Fanny! Ha, ha, ha! Scold me--snub me--turn me into ridicule. I'll never contradict you again as long as I live! MRS. SWEET. (_aside--jogging her husband, and covertly pointing to SHORT_) Hush--hush! (_to herself_) A light breaks in upon me! (_to MRS. SHORT_) You are safe--there's some mistake. SHORT. (_aside--looking towards SWEET_) What's the matter with the man--has he taken leave of his senses? SWEET. (_significantly, to MRS. SHORT_) Let me restore this bouquet to the rightful owner. MRS. SHORT. (_aside, to MRS. SWEET, taking the bouquet in confusion_) What am I to say? MRS. SWEET. (_aside, to MRS. SHORT_) Nothing! Now, _mind!_ (_aloud_) Louisa, dear? What is it?--she'll faint. Here, Mr. Short, come and help her. Here, smell these salts! There--there! (_fanning her--MRS. SHORT sinks fainting into a chair, L._) MRS. SHORT. (_while MRS. SWEET is fanning her_) Oh, dear--oh! something has come over me so suddenly--I am afraid I shan't be able to go to-night. SHORT. Nonsense, my dear--it will soon pass off. MRS. SWEET. Go, indeed! Impossible! She is more fit for her bed than the Opera. (_aside, to MRS. SHORT_) Now, no yielding. MRS. SHORT. No--I feel it would be quite out of the question. SHORT. (_authoritatively_) Why, what is the meaning of all this? You were well enough just now. (_aside, in a threatening tone_) Are you going to take a leaf out of Mrs. Sweet's book? MRS. SHORT. (_aloud in a totally changed manner_) My dear? MRS. SWEET. As Louisa seems so unwell, Willie, and as Mr. Short, of course, can't possibly leave his wife, suppose we send an excuse--I know you don't care about going. SWEET. Just as you please, my dear, whatever you like, I am agreeable to anything. Come now, I tell you what I propose. (_looks significantly at MRS. SHORT_) As the place _doesn't appear to agree with Mrs. Short_, and as I think we have had enough of the Crystal Palace, I'll stand treat for a month at the sea-side--change of air will do us all good. What do you say? SHORT. (_significantly to SWEET_) Yes the sooner we leave the better (_aside_) for _you._ (_significantly to MRS. SWEET_) What do _you_ say, Mrs. Sweet? MRS. SWEET. (_pretends to be confused, turns away her head and smiles--aside_) Amusing! SWEET. (_significantly to MRS. SHORT_) What do _you_ say, Mrs. Short? MRS. SHORT. (_forces a laugh, turns away her head and frowns--aside_) Provoking! SHORT. (_aside, looking contemptuously at SWEET_) The idea of his putting up with the affront in this sort of way--Poor Sweet! SWEET. (_aside, to the Audience_) Capital joke, isn't it? Poor Short! Do him all the good in the world when he finds it out, won't it? MRS. SWEET. (_advancing and addressing the Audience with her finger to her lips_) But keep the secret--don't laugh till the curtain's down. And if it should so happen--you won't be offended--that there is anything at all like this going on at home, depend upon it, you might have done worse than coming to see---- SHORT. Short---- SWEET. And Sweet. Curtain. ----- Printed by Thomas Scott, 1, Warwick Court, Holborn. Transcriber's Note This transcription is based on a microcopy made available by University of California, Davis. Because of the quality of the microcopy, the transcription was checked against a copy owned by Fordham University, a digitized version of which is posted by the Internet Archive at: https://archive.org/details/TroughtonShortSweet In general, this transcription attempts to retain the formatting, punctuation and spelling of the source text. Thus, variant spellings such as "lieve," "doat," "one'self," and "extacies" as well as words and spellings intended for comic effect such as "horrorble" and "tremengeous" have been retained. The following changes were made to the text: -- p. 2: In the costume note, "MRS. SHORT--Ditto" was changed to "Mrs. SHORT--Ditto" for consistency. -- p. 6: Come, we havn't a minute to spare--Changed "havn't" to "haven't" for consistency. -- p. 11: Another (_she pours out another--aside_)--Added a period after "Another". -- p. 16: what we make them, at least in marriage, Louisa was not--Changed the comma after "marriage" to a period. -- p. 26: the bouquet of violets to-night. (_she stops and looks at_--Changed the period after "to-night" to a comma. -- p. 30: that there is anythihg at all like this going on at home--Changed "anythihg" to "anything". 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