Part 3

(_they look at each other, then after a short pause, SWEET falls into SHORT'S arms_)

SHORT. Take care, you'll have me down! Bear it like a man! There, take this chair; try and recover yourself.

(_he supports him to a chair, R._)

SWEET. (_sinking into the chair_) Oh, Short!

SHORT. Never mind, my dear fellow, I'll stand by you. I'm your friend.

SWEET. Oh for some vent to my feelings!--something to tear! (_he snatches SHORT'S handkerchief from his pocket and tears it_)

SHORT. What the devil are you doing? That's one of my best half-dozen French cambric. (_gathering up the pieces and putting them into his pocket_)

SWEET. (_starting up_) Short, are you a good pistol shot?

SHORT. (_staggered by the question_) A good pistol shot? no, I never fired a pistol in my life.

SWEET. You'll revenge me if I fall? I expect it of you as my friend; you said you'd stand by me.

SHORT. You don't mean to say you're going to challenge him?

SWEET. What, not after he has seduced my wife's affections?

SHORT. (_aside_) What a lucky thing Louisa never asked him to call.

SWEET. Fight him, yes! across a handkerchief, in my shirt sleeves, with a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other; you surely don't mean that you would be likely to take any active steps to prevent the meeting?

SHORT. Certainly not, if you don't wish it.

SWEET. What you wouldn't for instance, you think, be likely to go before a magistrate, or anything of that sort?

SHORT. (_laying his hand upon his heart_) You may rely upon my friendship for not interfering.

SWEET. (_aside_) He can't be in earnest. (_aloud_) Why you are as bloodthirsty as I am--the traitress! that was why she was so anxious to see him when he called; that was why she wanted to go the Opera to-night. But let me seek for some further proof against her--something to utterly confound her. (_he begins to read the letter to himself_)

SHORT. (_also trying to read the letter over SWEET'S shoulder_) I can't see a word without my glasses, what can I have done with them? Wait a moment, they must be somewhere in the room. (_he goes to the back of the stage to look for his glasses, and discovers to the Audience that they are hanging at his back_)

SWEET. (_reading to himself in a low tone, while SHORT is searching for his spectacles at the back_) Ah! "If you grant my request, carry the bouquet of violets to-night, which I have taken measures for your receiving from a safe hand, which can awaken no suspicion." (_aloud--shouting_) The viper!

SHORT. (_giving up the search, and coming forward_) What have you found? anything fresh?

SWEET. (_showing him the letter_) Look--read--judge for yourself?

SHORT. (_trying in vain to read the letter_) No, it's no use--confound it, I can't make out a word.

SWEET. A signal! a signal, Short! think of that! They are actually carry on a secret correspondence, by means of signals.

SHORT. What signals? Why the devil don't you read the letter?

SWEET. She shall _go_ to-night, _she shall go_, but I'll _watch_ her like a lynx.

SHORT. Now be prudent; let me intreat of you to do nothing rashly.

SWEET. (_vehemently, putting back the letter into the book_) I'll give it her with my own hand, and she how she takes it!

SHORT. (_restraining him_) No, no, no; let me beg of you. In your present state of excitement it would be madness; let _me_ give it to her, I shall be able to see more than you will, I am cooler--more collected.

SWEET. Do you think so? Well, perhaps you are right. (_gives SHORT the book_)

SHORT. Leave me to deal with her alone, Sweet; you are not fit to be trusted just at present. Go and dress, go to your own room, and endeavour to calm yourself.

SWEET. Calm myself? Ha, ha! I have a good mind to jump out of the window! Don't leave me long, or I shall do myself a mischief--I'm in a state of desperation. (_seizes a knife from the table--SHORT takes it from him--exit through door, R._)

SHORT. Poor fellow, he's in a pitiable condition; but he has brought it all upon himself, by over-indulging his wife to that absurd extent that he has completely ruined his own domestic happiness. It might have been just the same with me, if I had been fool enough to walk in his footsteps. I wish I could make out the contents of this letter though! Stay!

_Enter MRS. SWEET and MRS. SHORT, as he is about to open the book, door, L. 1 E., in evening dress, both carrying bouquets._

MRS. SWEET. (_looking down at the dress she wears_) The dress looks as well again so--I am delighted with the alteration.

SHORT. (_aside_) What tranquility in guilt--she's a cool hand!

MRS. SWEET. (_seeing SHORT_) What, not ready yet, Mr. Short? Won't you be late? Where is my husband?

SHORT. (_with an absurd assumption of dignity_) He is dressing, madam.

MRS. SWEET. (_surprised at his manner_) Well, that is a very singular manner of telling me so!

SHORT. I am not aware, madam, that there is anything more singular in my manner than in another's. (_with ridiculous significance, after a pause_) Allow me to give you this book.

MRS. SWEET. (_taking it quickly_) Oh, here it is at last--thank you!

SHORT. (_aside_) How she betrays herself!

MRS. SWEET. I am afraid, Mr. Short, something has put you out.

SHORT. Possibly something has, madam.

_Exit, door, R._

MRS. SWEET. (_looking after him_) What is the matter with your husband, Louisa? He appears to be in the high ropes about something.

MRS. SHORT. (_anxiously_) I haven't the smallest idea--he seemed very strange.

MRS. SWEET. He's an oddity! I could scarcely keep my countenance, although I am by no means in a merry humour. The gentlemen are bewitched, I think--_my_ good man in not in a _very_ amiable frame of mind either. Ah, well, we must leave them alone, and they'll come round at their leisure, I suppose.

MRS. SHORT. (_anxiously_) What can be the reason, I wonder?

MRS. SWEET. There, now, you're going to torment yourself about that. Why don't you treat these things as I do? You are always in a state of adoration of your husband--to his face, too. It is really very absurd of you, and is quite spoiling him--besides, it is not only bad policy as far are you are concerned, but it does me a positive injury also. Here have I had a regular scene with William, and have been indulged with some charming comparisons in your favour. (_she carelessly opens the book, and looks at the pictures_) Oh, come, you have succeeded most admirably with my dress. See--look here--(_comparing the dress she has on with the one in the book_)--it is exactly as you have done it.

MRS. SHORT. (_in an absent manner, scarcely looking at it_) Yes, I see.

MRS. SWEET. (_picking up the note which has fallen out of the book_) Why, here's a note. Louisa, you are dreaming--see, here's a note.

MRS. SHORT. (_quickly_) A note?

MRS. SWEET. Yes--fallen out of the book. Is it for us, do you think? I seem to know the hand--to be sure, it is Mr. Billington's.

MRS. SHORT. (_glancing at the writing_) No, no--put it back again--put it back again into the book.

MRS. SWEET. What for? What a hurry you're in!

MRS. SHORT. (_trying to get hold of the note, which MRS. SWEET holds from her_) No, my dear Fanny, we have no right to read it; consider, it may have been sent in mistake!

MRS. SWEET. There appears to be neither address nor signature. Oh, it's some message about returning the book. (_reads_) "I waited for you all the morning--I am afraid to ask why you didn't come--It is now five days since I saw you--this is cruel; but I implore of you to give me an interview to-morrow in the lane at the back of the house, at two o'clock, if it be only for ten minutes. We shall meet this evening, but I shall have no opportunity of being alone with you. You will not refuse if you return the feelings that are consuming me."

MRS. SHORT. (_interrupting her in great confusion_) Fanny, how can you! pray put it back again!

MRS. SWEET. (_continuing to read_) "If you grant my request carry the bouquet of violets to-night, (_she stops and looks at MRS. SHORT'S bouquet, then goes on_) which I have taken measures for your receiving from a safe hand which can awaken no suspicion." An extraordinary epistle! (_to MRS. SHORT, who is in great confusion, and hangs down her head_) That bouquet!--those conscious blushes! Very pretty, upon my honour! Louisa, what am I to think of all this?

MRS. SHORT. (_with energy, looking up_) Think of it: why think that I have been persecuted with the attentions of a coxcomb! whom I have never encouraged by word or look!

MRS. SWEET. _Persecuted!_ poor martyr!

MRS. SHORT. How could I for an instant imagine that he would presume to take such a liberty.

MRS. SWEET. Come now, you had better make a clean breast of it--this has been one of your quiet flirtations.

MRS. SHORT. Flirtations! If the man would persist in his attentions how could I help it? You know I could not be absolutely rude to him.

MRS. SWEET. (_bantering her, and holding up the letter_) Is this one of his _attentions?_

MRS. SHORT. No; the most extravagant height of consummate impudence; and if I were not frightened out of my senses I should go into fits of laughter.

MRS. SWEET. Come, come, _Mrs. Demure;_ I'll have no more of this--I shall take the liberty of destroying this delectable note. (_tearing it to pieces, and putting them into her pocket_)

MRS. SHORT. Don't scold me, for if I have been silly and a little indiscreet--which mind I don't confess--I have been sufficiently punished for it, for I haven't had a minute's peace of mind ever since we have been down here, and, after all, is there no excuse for me--see how I am treated!--he starts at the sound of a rat, runs away from the bark of a dog, and couldn't be induced to mount a horse if his life depended on it, but he is not afraid to coerce and bully a poor defenceless wife. (_wiping away a tear_) I am sure if my husband would only be a twentieth part as kind to me as dear Mr. Sweet is to you I wouldn't give him a moment's vexation for the world.

MRS. SWEET. Nonsense, Loo, it isn't worth a tear, and you know I have always told you it is all your own fault. You don't go the right way to work with him. I tell you what it is, my dear, you are too amiable by half, both at home and _abroad_; but don't alarm yourself, there is no great harm done, if we can only keep the knowledge of all this ridiculous nonsense from our husbands; but judging from Mr. Short's delightful air just now I am not quite sure that that will be altogether so easy, but mind, ma'am, no more _persecutions_, no more flirting.

MRS. SHORT. Only help me out of the scrape like a good dear creature, and if ever I expose myself to anything of the kind again, may I----

MRS. SWEET. (_aside, making a sign to signify that their husbands are coming_) Don't be seen with that bouquet in your hand. Let us exchange! Take mine! (_they exchange bouquets_)

MRS. SHORT. (_whispering_) How shall we find an excuse for not going?

MRS. SWEET. (_whispering_) Never mind that now. Don't be frightened--keep close to me, and if I give you a hint, be sure to take it.

_Enter SWEET and SHORT, through door, R., in evening dress._

SHORT. (_aside to SWEET_) Be careful now what you say.

SWEET. (_seeing the bouquet in his wife's hands_) There it is, under my very nose!

SHORT. (_aside_) What?

SWEET. (_aside_) The bouquet!

SHORT. (_looking through his eye glass_) I can't make it out very well at this distance, but there is nothing extraordinary in her having a bouquet, so has my wife.

MRS. SWEET. (_affecting an air of gaiety_) Well, you see we are dressed first.

SWEET. (_struggling to keep down his feelings_) So I perceive.

SHORT. So we perceive, ma'am.

MRS. SWEET. (_aside to MRS. SHORT_) My husband is in the secret, that is quite clear. (_aloud to SWEET and SHORT_) You are such beaux, you see, that you have kept us waiting.

SWEET. We must have been a very long time dressing, Short, or else these ladies must be very impatient to set out.

SHORT. True, Sweet, your remark is obviously correct.

SWEET. (_looking at his wife_) Minutes seems hours when the mind is on the stretch of expectation.

SHORT. (_aside to SWEET, pulling him by the skirts of his coat_) Ah! that's all wrong! Take care!

SWEET. We shall be in plenty of time, ladies.

SHORT. (_aside_) That's better--keep to the plural number, it sounds less particular.

SWEET. We shall not be the last to arrive, I dare say. (_rings the bell_)

_Enter STEPHEN, L. C._

Is the coach at the door, Stephen?

STEPH. Yes, sir, I was just coming to tell you as you rung.

SWEET. (_aside_) I am suffocating!

MRS. SWEET. (_to SWEET_) My dear, do you still feel disinclined to go?

SWEET. (_shouting_) No; not at all! (_to STEPHEN_) Give me my hat! (_STEPHEN takes up his hat from the sofa, which he keeps in his hand_) Not at all! (_aside_) If Stephen, now, would but let my hat fall to give me an excuse for going into a passion. (_aloud to STEPHEN_) What are you doing with my hat, sir?

STEPH. Me, sir; nothing, sir.

SWEET. Ah! sir! do you dare to answer me, you scoundrel! Leave the room, sir, or I'll kick you down stairs!

STEPH. (_aside, putting down the hat_) Master's mad--I wasn't doing anything with the hat.

_Exit, C. L._

SWEET. Well, why don't we go?

MRS. SWEET. We none of us seem very well inclined to do that.

SWEET. Why not! I never felt more disposed to go out in my life! I am in extacies at the thought of it: so is Short.

SHORT. (_lugubriously_) Very much so, indeed, Sweet.

SWEET. (_looking at his wife_) Short and I it is true are no great hands at flirting with the ladies, but we can look on and see _others_ doing so!

SHORT. (_aside--pulling him by the sleeve_) Sweet! Sweet!

SWEET. (_disregarding SHORT, and looking hard at his wife_) Yes, ma'am, I say we can look on and see _others_ doing so!

SHORT. (_aside_) He'll spoil all. It's impossible to restrain him!

MRS. SWEET. (_aside to her husband, and covertly pointing to SHORT_) Don't for goodness' sake make matters worse!

SWEET. Make matters worse! Short, ma'am, is in my confidence!

MRS. SWEET. (_aside--perplexed_) I am lost--I can't make it out.

MRS. SHORT. (_aside_) What does he mean?

SWEET. (_to his wife_) It was on _my_ account, doubtless, that you were so particular about you dress--to please _me!_

MRS. SWEET. Well, yes--don't you like it!

SWEET. And this bouquet: that, too, was to please me, I suppose!

SHORT. (_aside to MRS. SHORT, after crossing behind to L. of her_) What did you give her my bouquet for?

SWEET. This bouquet! that you have been feasting your eyes on ever since I have been in the room: that you haven't had a minute out of your hand! Give it to me! (_snatching it out of her hand_) See how _I_ prize it too! (_he raises his arm, and is about to dash it violently to the ground_)

SHORT. (_crossing to SWEET, and seizing hold of his arm_) Stop--stop, I say! What are you about? Don't destroy my wife's bouquet!

SWEET. (_after a pause of amazement_) What's that? _Your_--_your_ wife's bouquet? Do you mean to say that this--this bouquet belongs to Mrs. Short?

SHORT. To be sure I do? Didn't I bring it all the way from the City on purpose to make her a present of it?

SWEET. (_aside_) Weugh! (_embraces his wife_) Laugh at me again, Fanny! Ha, ha, ha! Scold me--snub me--turn me into ridicule. I'll never contradict you again as long as I live!

MRS. SWEET. (_aside--jogging her husband, and covertly pointing to SHORT_) Hush--hush! (_to herself_) A light breaks in upon me! (_to MRS. SHORT_) You are safe--there's some mistake.

SHORT. (_aside--looking towards SWEET_) What's the matter with the man--has he taken leave of his senses?

SWEET. (_significantly, to MRS. SHORT_) Let me restore this bouquet to the rightful owner.

MRS. SHORT. (_aside, to MRS. SWEET, taking the bouquet in confusion_) What am I to say?

MRS. SWEET. (_aside, to MRS. SHORT_) Nothing! Now, _mind!_ (_aloud_) Louisa, dear? What is it?--she'll faint. Here, Mr. Short, come and help her. Here, smell these salts! There--there! (_fanning her--MRS. SHORT sinks fainting into a chair, L._)

MRS. SHORT. (_while MRS. SWEET is fanning her_) Oh, dear--oh! something has come over me so suddenly--I am afraid I shan't be able to go to-night.

SHORT. Nonsense, my dear--it will soon pass off.

MRS. SWEET. Go, indeed! Impossible! She is more fit for her bed than the Opera. (_aside, to MRS. SHORT_) Now, no yielding.

MRS. SHORT. No--I feel it would be quite out of the question.

SHORT. (_authoritatively_) Why, what is the meaning of all this? You were well enough just now. (_aside, in a threatening tone_) Are you going to take a leaf out of Mrs. Sweet's book?

MRS. SHORT. (_aloud in a totally changed manner_) My dear?

MRS. SWEET. As Louisa seems so unwell, Willie, and as Mr. Short, of course, can't possibly leave his wife, suppose we send an excuse--I know you don't care about going.

SWEET. Just as you please, my dear, whatever you like, I am agreeable to anything. Come now, I tell you what I propose. (_looks significantly at MRS. SHORT_) As the place _doesn't appear to agree with Mrs. Short_, and as I think we have had enough of the Crystal Palace, I'll stand treat for a month at the sea-side--change of air will do us all good. What do you say?

SHORT. (_significantly to SWEET_) Yes the sooner we leave the better (_aside_) for _you._ (_significantly to MRS. SWEET_) What do _you_ say, Mrs. Sweet?

MRS. SWEET. (_pretends to be confused, turns away her head and smiles--aside_) Amusing!

SWEET. (_significantly to MRS. SHORT_) What do _you_ say, Mrs. Short?

MRS. SHORT. (_forces a laugh, turns away her head and frowns--aside_) Provoking!

SHORT. (_aside, looking contemptuously at SWEET_) The idea of his putting up with the affront in this sort of way--Poor Sweet!

SWEET. (_aside, to the Audience_) Capital joke, isn't it? Poor Short! Do him all the good in the world when he finds it out, won't it?

MRS. SWEET. (_advancing and addressing the Audience with her finger to her lips_) But keep the secret--don't laugh till the curtain's down. And if it should so happen--you won't be offended--that there is anything at all like this going on at home, depend upon it, you might have done worse than coming to see----

SHORT. Short----

SWEET. And Sweet.

Curtain.

Printed by Thomas Scott, 1, Warwick Court, Holborn.

Transcriber's Note

This transcription is based on a microcopy made available by University of California, Davis. Because of the quality of the microcopy, the transcription was checked against a copy owned by Fordham University, a digitized version of which is posted by the Internet Archive at:

https://archive.org/details/TroughtonShortSweet

In general, this transcription attempts to retain the formatting, punctuation and spelling of the source text. Thus, variant spellings such as "lieve," "doat," "one'self," and "extacies" as well as words and spellings intended for comic effect such as "horrorble" and "tremengeous" have been retained. The following changes were made to the text:

-- p. 2: In the costume note, "MRS. SHORT--Ditto" was changed to "Mrs. SHORT--Ditto" for consistency.

-- p. 6: Come, we havn't a minute to spare--Changed "havn't" to "haven't" for consistency.

-- p. 11: Another (_she pours out another--aside_)--Added a period after "Another".

-- p. 16: what we make them, at least in marriage, Louisa was not--Changed the comma after "marriage" to a period.

-- p. 26: the bouquet of violets to-night. (_she stops and looks at_--Changed the period after "to-night" to a comma.

-- p. 30: that there is anythihg at all like this going on at home--Changed "anythihg" to "anything".

End of Project Gutenberg's Short and Sweet, by Adolphus Charles Troughton