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----