MRS. C. Yes; why don't you thank her, Mr. W.?
WOOD. (_sulkily_) I do. (_very savagely, to MRS. L._) I'm obliged to
you. Do you hear?--I'm obliged to you.
MRS. L. (_smiling satirically at WOODCOCK_) I am thanked sufficiently
already, in having suggested a proposal, which evidently gives you so
much satisfaction! And now I'll join dear Caroline!
MRS. C. Do. Mr. W.! (_WOODCOCK takes no notice--very loud_) Mr. W!
WOOD. (_sulkily_) Well!
MRS. C. Hand Mrs. Larkings to the door.
WOOD. Eh--very well. (_taking hold of MRS. LARKINGS'S hand_) Come
along! (_pulling her after him to door, R. 2 E., and then pointing to
it_) There you are! (_looking fiercely at MRS. L., who bursts out
laughing in his face and goes out--WOODCOCK, buttoning up his coat,
and with an air of resolution_) I don't care--though it should come to
a fight between Carver and me, I will _not_ pay a third visit to the
Colosseum at Rome.
MRS. C. (_anxiously watching MRS. LARKINGS out, and then throwing off
her former stiff and disguised manner_) Done at last! (_looking
knowingly at WOODCOCK, and shaking her head playfully at him_)
Ah!--ah!
WOOD. (_R. C., astonished--aside_) What the deuce is the matter with
Carver?
MRS. C. (_L. C., still in the same playful manner_) And has Marmy been
deceived--has Marmy been taken in?--he! he! he!
WOOD. (_aside_) I see, Carver's been at the sherry!
MRS. C. Come here, Marmy! you don't mind me calling you Marmy?
Marmaduke is such a mouthful, whereas, Marmy is----
WOOD. Mrs. Carver, you're at liberty to Marmy me as much as you think
proper, but allow me to observe, that having already paid two visits
to the----
MRS. C. Yes, yes! now, listen to me! in a word, I am not the woman you
take me for!
WOOD. Eh? you're not Mother Woodcock?--I mean, Mrs. Woodcock's mother?
MRS. C. Pshaw! I don't mean that! in short, Marmy, you have repeatedly
said to yourself--don't deny it--"What a regular wet blanket I shall
have for a mother-in-law."
WOOD. No, no! I solemnly protest that--(_aside_)--I have said so no
end of times!
MRS. C. You are mistaken, Marmy! that austerity of deportment--that
rigidity of manner was all assumed. Listen! You see this brooch?
(_pointing to one in her dress_) It contains the portrait of the late
Lieutenant-Colonel Carver, done in oil.
WOOD. Carver done in oil? Yes!
MRS. C. He was a very handsome man.
WOOD. Was he? You're quite right to mention it.
MRS. C. Especially on horseback.
WOOD. Then I should certainly have had him taken on horseback!
MRS. C. He vowed that he had never loved before!
WOOD. Of course! ha, ha! that's what they all say! ha, ha!
(_forgetting himself_)
MRS. C. (_astonished_) Marmy!
WOOD. I mean to say, I've heard say that's what they all say--that's
all I say!
MRS. C. I believed him, and we were married! That very day, Marmy, he
retired on half-pay!
WOOD. Did he though? and, how old was Carver done in oil?
MRS. C. Thirty-nine!
WOOD. You mean, he said he was thirty-nine. Ha, ha! I've known lots of
fellows who say they're thirty-nine when in fact they--never mind!
MRS. C. I was under twenty, had been strictly and severely brought
up--is it then to be wondered at that I yearned, I may say, panted for
those gaieties, those amusements so natural to my age? But, alas! it
was not to be, for while I was revelling in the anticipation of
entering into what is called "Life," he told me, and I repeat his own
unfeeling selfish words, that he had had his _whack._ (_WOODCOCK looks
astonished_) Whack! such a vulgar expression!
WOOD. Low! very low, indeed! a colonel, especially a colonel on
horseback, ought to have been above it!
MRS. C. But that wasn't all; he actually had the barbarity, on our
very wedding day, to draw up what he called a programme of our
matrimonial existence, (_WOODCOCK still more astonished, suddenly
remembers his own programme, which is lying on the table_) in which
_I_ was condemned to the dull monotony of household duties.
WOOD. (_aside_) How very odd. I wonder if there was anything in it
about killing buttons, and sewing on caterpillars.
MRS. C. While _he_, forsooth, was to enjoy himself; go out fishing,
smoke his cigar, and take his nap in his arm chair. (_angrily_)
WOOD. (_aside_) This is a very singular coincidence; because, I'll
take my oath, _I_ never saw Carver's programme! (_he has gradually
approached the table, and, watching his opportunity, suddenly snatches
the paper off it and crams it into his pocket_)
MRS. C. What's the matter?
WOOD. Nothing!
MRS. C. But _that_ wasn't all; he actually expressed his intention of
laying aside his splendid regimentals--those regimentals that I loved
so much, and wearing nothing but those odious abominations called
morning gowns for the remainder of his existence. (_here WOODCOCK,
watching his opportunity, opens table drawer, and thrusts in the
parcel containing the morning gowns, then slams the drawer_)
MRS. C. What is the matter?
WOOD. Nothing.
MRS. C. (_going to table, and standing on the side opposite to
WOODCOCK, who is eyeing the remaining two parcels with anxiety_) But
_that_ wasn't all! (_banging her hand on one of the parcels to
WOODCOCK'S great alarm_) Hanging up his noble helmet in the hall, and
giving his military boots to his servant, he inserted his head into
one of those atrocities called smoking caps, and his feet into a pair
of embroidered slippers. (_during the above, she has kept on banging
the paper parcels_) Yes; embroidered, no doubt, by some unhappy
creature he had professed to love as he did me. (_walking away in an
excited manner--WOODCOCK immediately opens table drawer, and thrusts
in one of the parcels, there not being room for the other, WOODCOCK
hastily thrusts it up under his waistcoat in front_)
MRS. C. What is the matter?
WOOD. Nothing!
MRS. C. Such, Marmy, was my married life for twenty years. Anxious,
therefore, that Caroline should escape my wretched fate, I resolved to
find her a husband who, like herself, had never enjoyed what is called
"Life."
WOOD. And you pitched upon me!
MRS. C. I did; every enquiry I made about you convinced me you were
the very man I was looking for. "He is no second Carver," said I, "he
is not satiated with the pleasures, the gaieties, the amusements of
the world," said I, "he has never even tasted them," said I, "and
therefore," said I, "he'll be the more ready to plunge headlong into
the dazzling and intoxicating scene before him," said I.
WOOD. Did you?
MRS. C. Yes! "Caroline will plunge in with him," said I, "and I--I
shall plunge in after both of them," said I.
WOOD. You?
MRS. C. Of course! (_with increasing animation_) Haven't I to make up
the twenty years I lost with Carver? yes, and what's more, I mean to
make them up! Yes, Marmy! balls, concerts, operas, assemblies,
masquerades, regattas, races!--wherever you are, there will I be!
Wherever you go, there will I go. Oh, how I long to begin! how I pant
to mingle in "the gay, the gay, the festive scenes--the halls, the
halls of dazzling light," and sport the light fantastic toe in the
merry, joyous dance! (_dancing a few steps_)
WOOD. (_after a stare of astonishment_) Dance? a woman of her
substance! she couldn't do it! (_aloud_) I'm only afraid, my very dear
Mrs. Carver, that "light fantastic toe" of yours won't have much to do
in our quiet little town of Stow-on-the-Wold!
MRS. C. Stow-on-the-Wold? Faugh! I'm speaking of London!
WOOD. (_with a start_) London?
MRS. C. Yes! Where we shall be this very evening. Yes, Marmy, that's
the little agreeable surprise we had in store for you, ha, ha, ha!
WOOD. (_aside_) Now, Woodcock, prove yourself a man, Woodcock--assert
your dignity, Woodcock--and let Carver see you're not going to stand
any of Carver's nonsense, Woodcock! (_aloud and drawing himself up_)
Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver--(_thrusting his hand in his waistcoat,
the paper parcel shews itself below it--WOODCOCK hastily thrusts it up
again_) I repeat, Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver----
MRS. C. I know what you are going to say, Marmy, but don't be alarmed!
we've settled everything without you--in short, you'll have nothing
whatever to do except to supply the money--there!
WOOD. (_still more dignified_) Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver--(_here
the parcel again appears below his waistcoat--he thrusts it up so
violently that it shews itself above it under his chin_)
MRS. C. In the first place that kindest, best of creatures, Mrs.
Larkings has already secured apartments for us close to their own
residence in the Regent's Park, eight guineas and a half a week, the
cheapest thing I ever heard of!