HAR. I blame you only, my lord, for being in a passion. You see, my
lady is serene: she keeps her temper: she looks as if she wanted to be
friends with you.
LORD G. O that cursed serenity!--When my soul is torn by a
whirlwind--
LADY G. A good tragedy rant!--But, Harriet, you are mistaken: My Lord
G---- is a very passionate man. So humble, so--what shall I call it?
before marriage--Did not the man see what a creature I was?--To bear with
me, when he had no obligation to me; and not now, when he has the
highest--A miserable sinking!--O Harriet, Harriet! Never, never marry!
HAR. Dear Lady G----, you know in your own heart you are wrong--Indeed
you are wrong--
LORD G. God for ever reward you, madam!--I will tell you how it
began--
LADY G. 'Began!' She knows that already, I tell you, my lord. But
what has passed within these four hours, she knows not: you may entertain
her with that, if you please.--It was just about the time this day is a
week, that we were altogether, mighty comfortably, at St. George's,
Hanover-square--