John Buckstone - Married Life

Mrs. Ly. I confess that we have had a trifling disagreement, this morning.

Mrs. Cod. How delightful! – Coddle, why don’t you go into a passion and knock me down.

Cod. My dear, if I were to go into a passion, and suddenly cool, as I know I should, the checking of the perspiration would be the death of me – I should die.

Lynx. Good morning, my friends; I am going to leave you; don’t you hurry away on my account.

Mrs. Ly. There’s no necessity for that; I shall be alone the whole day.

Mrs. Cod. ( To MRS. LYNX.) – Ah! you are a happy woman in possessing such a husband! Look at him, Coddle; observe his manner – his air. Why don’t you dress in that fashion?

Cod. Me! as thinly clad as Mr. Lynx is now – would you see me in my grave? Ugh! I shudder to look at him.

Mrs. Cod. I’m sorry that you are going out. – ( To LYNX.) – I thought to have passed a very pleasant morning in your society.

Mrs. Ly. ( Aside ) – I’m certain there’s an understanding between them. – ( Watching them with suspicion. )

Mrs. Cod. ( To LYNX) – A word with you – ( she whispers LYNX, and laughs ) – Eh? Ha! Ha! Ha! it would be very droll, now – would it not?

Lynx. Ha! Ha! very, indeed.

Mrs. Cod. I shall endeavour —

Lynx. Do, do – rely upon me. Ha! Ha!

Mrs. Cod. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Lynx. Adieu, my friends, adieu. Good morning, Mrs. L. If I do not return by five, you need not expect me till late. Adieu.

Mrs. Ly. May I ask, madam, why you whispered my husband?

Mrs. Cod. A mere matter of pleasantry.

Mrs. Ly. Indeed!

Mrs. Cod. He’s the most charming creature living, is that husband of yours. I wish my poor drone was like him.

Mrs. Ly. I should be sorry to make your husband unhappy, madam —

Mrs. Cod. Do, do – make him wretched, there’s a love – but for once.

Mrs. Ly. I don’t comprehend you, madam – I can only observe, that your conduct to my husband, a moment since, was as ill-mannered as it seemed suspicious.

Mrs. Cod. He’s a fine spirited man. – ( Looking at CODDLE, who is busy wrapping himself closely up. )

Mrs. Ly. Indeed! pray, madam, what might be the subject of your whispers?

Mrs. Cod. I never betray confidence.

Mrs. Ly. Surely you are not that base woman, who, under the mask of friendship, seeks to ruin my peace. I have watched your behaviour before, madam, and I am now convinced there is some secret correspondence existing between you and my husband; and how Mr. Coddle can sit there, and affect to be blind to your actions, I am at a loss to conceive.

Cod. Blind – me affect to be blind – what is there to see, madam?

Mrs. Cod. ( Aside. ) – This is delicious; – if Coddle would but listen to her.

Mrs. Ly. To see! – quit my house, and from this moment I trust that neither of you will ever enter it again.

Cod. What have we done?

Mrs. Ly. ( To MRS. CODDLE.) – I look upon you, madam, as a dangerous woman.

Cod. So she is – my night-caps are never thoroughly aired.

Mrs. Ly. And if your husband can countenance your conduct, I am not so lost to every sense of self-respect, as to submit to it.

Mrs. Cod. Bless me, Mrs. Lynx, what do you mean?

Cod. ( Coming between them. ) – Don’t, don’t, pray don’t excite me; if you get to words, I must interfere, and any interference, at this moment, might be fatal.

Mrs. Ly. I shall not attempt to explain my insinuations – I only desire that you will leave me to myself, and that your visits here may be less frequent.

Mrs. Cod. Don’t you stir from this house, Coddle, till you are perfectly convinced of the baseness of her inuendoes. Be jealous, and demand an explanation; if you don’t, I’ll tear the list from all the doors at home.

Mrs. Ly. Will you compel me to ring the bell?

Mrs. Cod. Go into a rage, Mr. Coddle.

Cod. I can’t; – (MRS. LYNX throws open a window, R. H.) – my love, we are in a thorough draught; that woman wants to destroy me. Let us leave the house, if you wish to see me alive an hour hence. Be satisfied – I’ll call on Mr. Lynx, and demand an explanation.

Mrs. Cod. But one word more —

Cod. No, no, not one. Come, my dear – I’ve the rheumatics in my right shoulder, already – I tremble from head to foot – I’ve taken cold, and you’ll have to nurse me for a month – Come, dear, come.

Mrs. Ly. ( Falling into a chair. ) – Wretched woman that I am – why did I ever give power to any man so to torment me? I’ll now follow him, and enjoy his disappointment.

Mrs. Cod. ( Without. ) – Don’t send up your name at present – the poor creature is in a rabid state. – (MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND heard without. )

Mrs. Y. Mrs. Lynx won’t mind us.

Mrs. Ly. ( Looking off, L. H.) – Who is this? Mr. and Mrs. Younghusband! how provoking – just as I’m going out. – What can bring them here? they are a couple that I can’t endure; though married but three months, they are perpetually contradicting and annoying each other; if, now, they had suffered the five years of matrimony that I have – there might be some excuse for them, but to disagree so early in their career, is sad, indeed.

Mrs. Younghusband. ( Running to MRS. LYNX, and taking both her hands. ) – How d’ye do, dear? don’t mind me and Y. coming in so unceremoniously – we have called to give you some information.

Younghusband. How can you talk so absurdly, Louisa? we have not called to give Mrs. Lynx any information.

Mrs. Y. For what, then?

Young. Merely to tell her that a person wishes to see her.

Mrs. Y. Well, that is information.

Young. No, it isn’t.

Mrs. Y. Yes, it is.

Young. How can that be?

Mrs. Y. To tell any body of any matter is to inform them; and to inform people, is, of course, to give them information. How you do contradict me!

Mrs. Ly. What, then, is the information that you bring me?

Mrs. Y. There, you hear, sir; Mrs. Lynx allows it to be information.

Young. It can’t be.

Mrs. Y. But it is.

Young. It isn’t; you have not informed Mrs. Lynx of anything, yet.

Mrs. Y. I should have done so, if you had not interrupted and contradicted me, as you always do.

Young. Allow me to tell Mrs. Lynx – you must know, madam, that some years ago, my wife was sent to the boarding-school of Mrs. Dove, in Sussex.

Mrs. Y. No, it was in Kent.

Young. In Sussex!

Mrs. Y. In Kent, I tell you.

Young. If you aggravate me in this manner, I’ll go home again.

Mrs. Ly. Well – well.

Mrs. Y. Last night, at a friend’s house, we accidentally met Mr. and Mrs. Dove – when she informed us that she had given up her school, and was now in London for the purpose of collecting some old debts, and amongst the names of the persons that she had to call on, was that of a Mr. Lynx —