Married Life - Buckstone John Baldwin

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– ’tis my own letter that has arrived – bearing a fictitious signature, and appointing to meet him in the park alone; – he will receive it – read it – then what should he do? What should a good and true husband do under such circumstances? Show the letter to his wife. Will he do that? If he does, I will freely forgive – forget – and think all that I have heard and seen to be delusions and falsehoods; – but if he neither gives it me, nor alludes to it in any way, I shall then be convinced of his perfidy, and my course shall be resolved on.

Re-enter LYNX, singing carelessly,“I have pluck’d the fairest flower,” &c. &c

      By Jove, I must dress, – ’tis near eleven (looking at his watch) my love, I think I shall dine at my club to-day.

      Mrs. Ly. Was the letter that you have just received an invitation to meet some one there?

      Lynx. Oh dear, no.

      Mrs. Ly. Was it from any one that I am acquainted with?

      Lynx. No, ’twas merely a note.

      Mrs. Ly. On a matter of business?

      Lynx. Yes – yes – mere business.

      Mrs. Ly. Which, of course, you will attend to?

      Lynx. Business must be attended to, my dear.

      Mrs. Ly. Especially when the only business of a man is pleasure.

      Lynx. Precisely.

      Mrs. Ly. Then you are going out?

      Lynx. I am.

       Mrs. Ly. I think on such a very fine morning as this, you might, for once, take me with you.

      Lynx. Certainly, my love, if you wish it.

      Mrs. Ly. Ah! will he take me? – (aside.)

      Lynx. Yet, now I think of it, – I have two or three places to call at, where I may be detained.

      Mrs. Ly. I can wait for you.

      Lynx. That will be so unpleasant: I shall be fidgetty at the thought of your becoming impatient, and then half the little matters that I may have to arrange, may escape my memory. You had better name to-morrow for our walk.

      Mrs. Ly. You won’t take me this morning?

      Lynx. Not this morning.

      Mrs. Ly. You will go out?

      Lynx. I must.

      Mrs. Ly. Very well, Sir. – (Aside.) – Perfidious man, you will bitterly repent this treatment of me. – There is some one in the hall.

      Lynx. (Looking off, L. H.) – They’re your friends, Mr. and Mrs. Coddle; they will amuse you during the ten minutes that I require for dressing. What a strange couple – so oddly assorted; poor Coddle, is the thinnest, chilliest man in the world. You must shut all your windows.

      Mrs. Ly. His wife will immediately open them.

      Lynx. She, poor thing, is so hot. When he is below freezing point, she is above fever heat.

      Mrs. Ly. You must allow that they do endeavour to accommodate themselves to each other’s foibles, and not oppose them, and use them as the means of tormenting, as some people do?

      Lynx. We shall see.

      Enter MRS. and MR. CODDLE – CODDLE wrapped up in a great coat, over which is a spencer – a boa round his throat. A cravat covering his chin, and a Welch wig on his head. MRS. CODDLE is dressed in thin white muslin.

       Coddle. Ah, Mrs. Lynx!

      Mrs. Cod. Good morning, my friends.

      Lynx. How d’ye do? How d’ye do?

      Coddle.– I’m very cold – ugh (shuddering.)

      Lynx. Quite well, Mrs. Coddle?

      Mrs. Cod. Very well – but so hot. Phew! Pray open your windows and give me some air.

      Coddle. No, don’t, don’t – I shall jump out of one of ’em, if you do. My inhuman wife would drag me from my warm fire-side this morning, although I told her there was an incipient easterly wind fluttering about. If it should blow in full force before I get home, I shall die.

      Mrs. Cod. My dear love – ’tis nothing but a fine refreshing breeze, and one that you ought to be very grateful for.

      Coddle. I tell you, it is warmth that I want – warmth.

      Mrs. Cod. And it’s air that I want – fine, fresh, blowing, whistling air.

      Coddle. (Shuddering.) – Ugh – don’t, dear, you chill me to the bone to hear you.

      Lynx. Be seated, I beg. – (crosses to L. H.) – Excuse me for a few minutes.

[Exit LYNX, L. H.

      Mrs. Ly. (Aside.) – If he does go out, I’ll follow him; watch him, and enjoy his disappointment.

      Cod. You have a window open somewhere, Mrs. Lynx – pray shut it. I sat in a draught last week, that so completely fixed my head on my shoulders, that I could’nt have moved it without turning my whole body at the same time, had it been to save my life.

      Mrs. Cod. Merely a stiff neck, Mrs. Lynx?

      Cod. All my wife’s fault. I sat for five days in this attitude – (Holding his head up stiffly.) – If I wanted to look at any body on my left, I was obliged to turn my whole body thus. If any one spoke to me on my right, I could only attend to them by pivotting so. If I wished to see what was going on behind me, I was obliged to whirl round like a weathercock at a sudden change in the wind; – but how dy’e think I did it? How dy’e think I managed my movements?

      Mrs. Lynx. I really can’t guess.

      Cod. ’Twas the only thing I could hit upon. I sat upon my wife’s music-stool – for five whole days. I ate, drank, lived and twirled upon a music-stool; – all through sitting in a draught – do shut your windows, there’s a dear.

      Mrs. Cod. You’ll suffocate me some day, Coddle – I know you will. You don’t know what a life I lead with him, Mrs. Lynx – five blankets in July – think o’that.

      Cod. Highly necessary – we are more liable to take cold in hot weather, than in any other. I always have four colds, one rheumatism, and two stiff necks every July.

      Mrs. Cod. What d’ye think he did a week ago, Mrs. Lynx? I had retired early: in the middle of the night I awoke in such a state of alarm – I really thought the room beneath us was on fire – the air of my apartment was so hot, so sultry, that I could not draw my breath. I gasped for air; What can be the matter, I said to myself? Surely I’ve been suddenly transported to the Indies, and there is a thunder-storm brewing. I rose – I opened the windows —

      Cod. And almost killed me on the spot; there was a strong north wind blowing at that moment – enough to wither one. – Imprudent woman.

      Mrs. Cod. ’Twas a fine bracing night breeze – but out of kindness to Coddle, I immediately closed the windows – Phew. Oh, gracious, had you but have felt the heat – I fainted away in the easy chair – Coddle rang the bell – the servants came – and to my horror, we discovered that Coddle had clandestinely introduced a German stove into the bed-room, and there it was, red hot. Think what a person of my temperament must have endured. I’ve been ill ever since.

      Cod. Doctor Heavysides recommended it; he said ’twas the only thing that could save my life, and rescue me from a threatened pulmonary complaint. I’ve had a wheezing cough ever since its removal – barbarous woman! – (Coughs.)

      Mrs. Cod. You seem dull, Mrs. Lynx.

      Mrs. Ly. I’m not in very good spirits.

      Mrs.

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