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."