SCENE III.

_A Drawing Room; in the centre a large loo-table, on which is set out a complete dessert; all the party are discovered; CODDLE occupies the R. H. corner, in an easy-chair; MRS. LYNX is seated beside him; next to her is MR. YOUNGHUSBAND and MR. DISMAL; MRS. DOVE and MR. LYNX sit together, MRS. DISMAL next to him, then MRS. CODDLE, and MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND; MR. DOVE occupies the L. H. corner._

ALL, (_but CODDLE and LYNX_).--Astonishing! to keep the matter a secret so long. Strange! strange!

LYNX. Now, let us drop the subject. Mrs. Coddle, I trust that you will not respect or love your husband the less, for this late disclosure?

MRS. COD. Oh! no, no; I merely feel hurt that he should have thought it necessary to have concealed the circumstance. Had I been a violent, jealous, bad-tempered woman, there might have been some cause for secresy; but as every body knows what a kind, indulgent creature I really am, he might have made me his confidant! and the poor girl should have been brought home. Where is she now?

LYNX. Quite safe, depend upon it; I will explain all at another opportunity.

MRS. LY. (_Aside._)--Falsehood, all falsehood! I'm convinced.

LYNX. (_To his wife._)--Now, my dear, I trust you are perfectly satisfied; and in this instance, I hope, you will confess that you were in error.

MRS. LY. Certainly, as I have no opposing evidence to the veracity of your story; though, still, I think it very--very strange, that you should have so troubled yourself on Mr. Coddle's account, if 'twere a mere act of friendship; the most famed heroes of antiquity have never been surpassed.

CODDLE. Ha! ha! now I feel happy; now my mind is at ease, and I'll be comfortable. How that Mrs. Dismal fixes her eyes on me! Now fill your glasses; Mr. Dove, take care of your lady.

DOVE. Yes, yes!--(_A knock and ring heard._)

LYNX. Some arrival.--(_DOVE jumps up and runs off, L. H._)

MRS. DOVE. (_Starting up._)--Henry, come back. I declare the man has gone to the door. Henry!

_DOVE re-enters._

DOVE. The door's opened; there's an individual----

MRS. DOVE. Sit down, my dear, sit down.

DOVE. (_Aside._)--I never shall get over answering the door, when a knock comes.--(_Voices heard without, in altercation._)

A VOICE. You mistake; you do, indeed!--You mistake.

COD. (_Apprehensively._)--What is it?

DOVE. An individual----

MRS. DOVE. Silence, Henry!

MRS. LY. (_Rising._)--The servant is in altercation with some one at the door; who can it be?

LYNX. (_Rising._)--Ring the bell.

MRS. LY. No, no--I'll go myself.

[_Exit L. H._

COD. I have a horrid presentiment of evil; a moment since I was glowing like a furnace, with joy--and now I freeze again, with terror.

MRS. COD. What's the matter, dear? do you feel cold?

COD. Yes--yes, ugh!--(_Shuddering._)

MRS. COD. And I'm dying for air.

MRS. YOUNG. So am I, Mrs. Coddle.

YOUNG. I am sure you are not.

MRS. YOUNG. I am.

DISMAL. Shall I open the folding doors?

COD. No--no!

DOVE. _I_ feel very _languishing._

MRS. DOVE. Henry! _languid._

DOVE. Languid!--how she does take me up before people.--(_aside._)

COD. Hush! here's Mrs. Lynx.

_MRS. LYNX re-enters, a letter in her hand. CODDLE regards her with anxiety. MRS. LYNX is trembling with agitation._

MRS. LYNX. It was--it was as I suspected, a black falsehood.

LYNX. What is the matter?

COD. I shall fall flat on the floor, something is going to happen.

MRS. LY. (_To LYNX._)--Restrain your curiosity, sir; you will know all in a moment, there is a lady below.

COD. I thought so.

MRS. LYNX. An elderly lady in black.

COD. (_Falling back in his chair, in utter despair._)--I'm a dead man.

MRS. LY. She tells me that her name is Coddle.----

MRS. COD. (_Starting up._)--What!

MRS. LY. (_Pointing to CODDLE._)--And that she is that man's wife.

COD. (_Groaning._)--Oh! I wish I could vanish through the floor.

MRS. LY. This letter is for you, Madam.

MRS. COD. For me!--(_She tears the letter open, a marriage certificate falls on the floor._)--What is this?--Oh, I can't read it--I shall faint, I have no power to read, pray take it--some one, Mr.--any body--pray read it.--(_She holds out the letter, DOVE takes it._)

ALL, (_but CODDLE and MRS. DOVE._)--Read it, Mr. Dove.

DOVE. I--I can't.

MRS. DOVE. Henry--how can you so expose yourself?

DOVE. You read it, Ma'am.--(_Giving it to MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND._)

MRS. YOUNG. Shall I read it, Mrs. Coddle?

MRS. COD. Yes, yes, aloud--aloud--let the whole world hear it.

MRS. Y. Reading--"Madam, the writer of this is an injured woman--the monster----

COD. That's me--oh--

MRS. Y. "The monster to whom you are married, has another wife. I am that person; the enclosed is a copy of my marriage certificate--'tis dated twenty years back; my object in coming to England is to claim a maintenance, and expose the villain.

"Your obedient Servant,

"Belvidera Coddle."

ALL. Bless me! dear, dear, dear! What a wretch--what a monster!

MRS. LYNX. The poor woman had better be asked up.

CODDLE. (_Springing from his chair._)--No, no! I'd sooner face a thousand fiends than look once again on that dreadful being. My dear, my love!--(_to his wife_)--you don't know what I have suffered--what I have endured through that woman! In the first place, I was decoyed--trapped; she left me--I once thought she was dead--but----

MRS. COD. (_Rising with dignity._)--Silence Samuel! you have deceived me; I could have pardoned any thing but this. As to the subject of the poor girl, that you have stated belongs to you, that I freely forgave.

MRS. LYNX. (_Violently._)--'Tis false, Mrs. Coddle! I asked the question of the bearer of that letter--I thought that she might be the parent of the girl--but, no, no; your husband has but supported mine in a falsehood; he never had a daughter. And you, sir,--(_to LYNX_)--are discovered and laid bare; but I shall leave you this day for ever.

ALL. Nay, nay.

MRS. COD. And I shall quit _my_ wretch.--(_She advances to CODDLE, who buries his face in his hands._)--From this moment, sir, we separate; go to your wife, the woman who lawfully claims you, and never look me in the face again. We were an ill-assorted pair from the first; but your affected apathy is now accounted for--it arose from an evil conscience. Cold-hearted, deliberate deceiver! farewell for ever!--(_MRS. CODDLE rushes out, L. H._)

CODDLE. Mary, come back; come back; hear me.--(_He runs to the L., but suddenly stops._)--I dare not follow her; I shall meet the other. No, no; I must fly--I must leave the country--'tis now no home for me.

LYNX. Sit still, my friend; be composed.

CODDLE. I can't--I'll leave the house--I'll---- Ah, this door--(_pointing R. H._)--leads to the canal; I'll drown myself--I'm desperate enough--the sun has been on the water all day, so I've nothing to fear--I am resolved upon my course--_felo-de-see_, nothing else--adieu, my friends--I'm a discovered, a guilty monster--and this is the last time that you will ever see the distracted, wretched, Samuel Coddle.--(_CODDLE rushes off, R. H._)

MR. YOUNG. (_Starting up._)--The man will drown himself!

MRS. Y. No, he wont--sit still; you will only make matters worse.

DISMAL. Sit still all of you--I know him--when he comes in sight of water, his courage will cool; sit still.

MRS. DOVE. Shall my dear Dove follow him?

DOVE. I can't swim, duck!

DISMAL. No, no; sit still.

MRS. LY. (_Who has kept her eyes fixed on her husband throughout the scene._)--What, sir--not a word! _quite_ confounded!

LYNX. Emmeline!--(_rising_)--appearances, I confess, are against me; but you know not all. You know not the cause which compels me to this course; be patient.

MRS. LY. I have been patient long enough, and will endure no more; this is the last moment that I pass under your roof.

LYNX. Are you mad? will you hear me?

MRS. LY. No, sir.

LYNX. If you once quit the house, we never meet again.

MRS. LY. That is my wish, sir.

LYNX. Be warned--if you leave me now--it _must_--it _shall_ be for ever.

MRS. LY. It is, sir, for ever.--(_Rushes out L. H. All the company rise._)

LYNX. Nay, nay, keep your seats, my friends--keep your seats. I will not have a soul stir a foot to expostulate with her; let her take her own course. I have been in error, I confess; but not to the extent that she supposes; her causeless jealousies--her unceasing suspicions have wearied me, and she is free to go--pray do not be disturbed on my account--make yourselves happy; I am sorry that our meeting should have ended thus--but my wife is to blame--she would not hear--would not listen to me, and now--(_aside._)--I leave this house, never to return.

[_Exit, R. H._

DOVE. Now _he's_ gone--shall I follow him, love?

MRS. DOVE. No, no; sit still, dear.

MRS. Y. Call him back! Mr. Lynx!--(_calling._)--he'll do himself a mischief--I know he will.

YOUNG. He wont, sit still--if you follow and torment him as you do me, sometimes--you will, indeed, drive him to desperation.

MRS. Y. _I_ follow and torment you, sir?

YOUNG. You do--often--often.

MRS. Y. You're an aggravating man, and----

MRS. DOVE. (_Rising._)--Nay, nay; dear, dear; pray don't get to words--my darling, Henry, hand that lady some wine; sit still, there's a dear.--(_to MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND_)--Emulate Mr. Dove and me, we never utter a cross word to each other--do we, dear?

DOVE. No, love.--(_Handing wine to MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND._)

MRS. Y. Take it away, sir, I don't want wine. Oh, sir, you need not sit there looking so fierce; (_to YOUNGHUSBAND_)--I was certain we should have a disagreement before the day was out; you contradicted me about my silver thimble--you insisted that aunt Sarah gave it me.

YOUNG. So she did.

MRS. Y. She didn't--'twas uncle Tolloday gave it me.

YOUNG. 'Twas aunt Sarah.

MRS. Y. Uncle Tolloday.

YOUNG. You're a provoking woman.

MRS. Y. You're a hideous man.

YOUNG. I'm going home.

MRS. Y. I am not. I shall never go home any more.

YOUNG. That wont break my heart.

MRS. Y. _Your_ heart! you never had one.

YOUNG. I had once.

MRS. Y. Never.

YOUNG. You drive me to madness; I shall go home; and I can only tell you, madam, since you threaten me, that when _you_ arrive there, you will receive no welcome from me.

MRS. Y. Do you mean that?

YOUNG. I do.--(_He rushes off R._)

MRS. Y. Then I'll go to my aunt Sarah;--he shall never see me again, an aggravating creature. How I could ever marry him, I can't think! It was uncle Tolloday that gave me the silver thimble--I know it was; but he _will_ contradict me. He does it on purpose to vex me--and oppose me--and worry me--and break my heart; but I'll go this moment to my aunt's, and I'll never--never set foot in his house again.

[_Exit, L. H._

MRS. DOVE. Dear, dear! what wretched lives some people do lead, don't they, love?

DOVE. Yes, dear.

MRS. DIS. (_To DISMAL._)--Just like you brutes of men--It's quite heart-breaking to see how we poor creatures are treated!

DIS. What is it to you; nobody ill treats you!

MRS. DIS. _You_ do; I've been sitting here for this hour, and you have never spoken a word to me.

DIS. I had nothing to say.

MRS. DIS. And though you know how fond I am of the wing of a fowl, you would send me a leg at dinner.

DIS. You women always want the wing.

MRS. DIS. I'm a wretched woman.

MRS. DOVE. My dear Henry, can't you console poor Mrs. Dismal?

DOVE. Oh yes, love! have a hapricot, Ma'am?

MRS. DOVE. _An_ apricot--Henry, dear, you mis-apply your indefinite article.

DOVE. Do I?--console the lady yourself, love.

MRS. DIS. The fact is--I had no business to marry you.

DIS. Now you speak the truth, we both ought to have known better; when people have lived single for fifty years, they should learn to look on matrimony as a misery they have luckily escaped.

MRS. DIS. You need not allude to my age, sir, before people.

DIS. What does it matter? who cares how old you are? you're fifty odd--so am I; and we have been married a year and a half--more fool I--more fool you.

MRS. DIS. (_Crosses L._)--I'm going home.

DIS. Well, go.

MRS. DIS. Don't you intend to come with me?

DIS. No.

MRS. DIS. You're an unkind man, and if we never meet again--I sha'n't be sorry.

DIS. Then the gratification will be mutual.

MRS. DIS. Indeed! I shall take you at your word, sir--(_going_)--but, remember, all my property is settled on myself.

[_Exit L. H._

DIS. Serves me right--after living a bachelor fifty years, I had no right to alter my situation, but I'll apply for a divorce--I will--'twill be granted too; I've an excellent plea--mutual insanity.

[_Exit R. H._

DOVE. Well--now all the people have gone, I've something to say--and something that I mean, too; I won't be taken up, as I always am, before people.

MRS. DOVE. What do you mean, Henry, by being taken up?

DOVE. Why--altering my pronounciation every minute, as you do.

MRS. DOVE. How can I calmly sit and hear my husband commit himself in every syllable that he utters? respect for you and for myself, renders it necessary that I should correct you.

DOVE. Well, I don't like it--and I warn you not to _result_ me again.

MRS. DOVE. _Insult_ you.

DOVE. Well, insult me again--you know how _wiolent_ I am when I'm _exaggerated_.

MRS. DOVE. When you're exasperated.

DOVE. Well, what's it matter! you perfectly compromise my meaning.

MRS. DOVE. Henry--Henry--I will not hear you make use of such language. Had I been aware that you were so illiterate--I would have broken my heart ere I would have married you--

DOVE. Yes--you never used to find fault with my language when we used to sit under the apple-tree of an evening.

MRS. DOVE. That I should not have seen the absurdity of uniting myself with one so opposite to me!

DOVE. Opposite to you!--you never would let me be opposite to you; you was never easy but when I was by your side; you know you wasn't!

MRS. DOVE. But love is blind----

DOVE. Yes, and deaf too, if I may judge from my own situation; just as if you couldn't have found out my pronounciation then as well as now. I know'd there was a great _contract_ between us.

MRS. DOVE. Contrast! besides, you are so stupid; you could not, during dinner, hear a bell or a knock at the door, but you must be running to answer it. I sat on thorns for you.

DOVE. Well, then, that was werry kind of you. I wouldn't do such a thing for my father; but don't call me stupid--if you talk of bad language, what's that, I wonder? Good bye!--you wont see me again, in a hurry.

MRS. DOVE. Where are you going?

DOVE. I don't know where I'm going, nor I don't care; you've wounded me in a tender _pint_.

MRS. DOVE. Point!----

DOVE. Point!--and I don't care if I never see you again.

MRS. DOVE. (_Taking his hand._)--Henry!

DOVE. Let go my hand, Martha; I mean what I say; and don't follow me, because I wont be follow'd.

MRS. DOVE. You cannot intend to be so base?

DOVE. I do--you've put me in a passion, and when I am in a passion I'm _dissolute._

[_Exit, R. H._

MRS. DOVE. Resolute!--(_calling after him_)--Cruel Henry! I shall faint--Help! Henry!--Water!--oh! oh!--(_She faints in a chair, and the drop falls._)

END OF ACT II.