The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 1

Chapter 11

Chapter 11274 wordsPublic domain

_Man_. How's the poor lady now?

_Woman_. She's poorly still. I fancy every day she's growing thinner. I am sure she's wasting steadily.

_Man_. Has the count Been here again to-day?

_Woman_. No. And I think He will not come again. She was so proud The last time he was here, you would have thought She was a queen at least.

_Man_. Remember, wife, What she has been. Trouble like that throws down The common folk like us all of a heap: With folks like her, that are high bred and blood, It sets the mettle up.

_Woman_. All very right; But take her as she was, she might do worse Than wed the Count Nembroni.

_Man_. Possible. But are you sure there is no other man Stands in his way?

_Woman_. How can I tell? So be, He should be here to help her. What she'll do I am sure I do not know. We cannot keep her. And for her work, she does it far too well To earn a living by it. Her times are changed-- She should not give herself such prideful airs.

_Man_. Come, come, old wife! you women are so hard On one another! You speak fair for men, And make allowances; but when a woman Crosses your way, you speak the worst of her. But where is this you're going then to-night? Do they want me to go as well as you?

_Woman_. Yes, you must go, or else it is no use. They cannot give the money to me, except My husband go with me. He told me so.

_Man_. Well, wife, it's worth the going--but to see: I don't expect a groat to come of it.