Three Hours after Marriage Part 4

FOSSILE and TOWNLEY come forward.

What feast for fis.h.!.+ Oh too luxurious treat!

When hungry dolphins feed on butchers meat.

_Foss._ Niece, why niece, niece? oh, Melpomene, thou G.o.ddess of tragedy, suspend thy influence for a moment, and suffer my niece to give me a rational answer. This lady is a friend of mine; her present circ.u.mstances oblige her to take sanctuary in my house; treat her with the utmost civility. Let the tea-table be made ready.

_Clink._ Madam, excuse this absence of mind; my animal spirits had deserted the avenues of my senses, and retired to the recesses of the brain, to contemplate a beautiful idea. I could not force the vagrant creatures back again into their posts, to move those parts of the body that express civility.

_Town._ A rare affected creature this! if I mistake not, flattery will make her an useful tool for my purpose.

[_Aside._

[_Exeunt_ Townley, Clinket, _and_ Maid.

_Foss._ Her jewels, her strong box, and all her things left behind! if her uncle should discover her marriage, he may lay an embargo upon her goods.----I'll send for them.

Enter a boy with a letter.

_Boy._ This is the ho-ho-house.

_Foss._ Child, whom dost thou want?

_Boy._ Mistress Townley's ma-ma-maid.

_Foss._ What is your business?

_Boy._ A l-l-letter.

_Foss._ Who sent this letter?

_Boy._ O-o-one.

_Foss._ Give it me, child. An honest boy. Give it me, and I'll deliver it myself. A very honest boy.

_Boy._ So.

[_Exit boy._

_Foss._ There are now no more secrets between us. Man and wife are one.

'Madam, either I mistake the encouragement I have had, or I am to be happy to-night. I hope the same person will compleat her good offices: I stand to articles. The ring is a fine one; and I shall have the pleasure of putting it on the first time.'

This from your impatient, R. P.

In the name of Beelzebub, what is this? encouragement! happy to-night!

same person! good offices! whom hast thou married, poor Fossile? couldst thou not still divert thyself with the spoils of quarries and coal-pits, thy serpents and thy salamanders, but thou must have a living monster too! 'sdeath! what a jest shall I be to our club! is there no rope among my curiosities? shall I turn her out of doors, and proclaim my infamy; or lock her up and bear my misfortunes? lock her up! impossible. One may shut up volatile spirits, pen up the air, confine bears, lyons and tygers, nay, keep even your gold: but a wanton wife, who can keep?

Enter TOWNLEY.

_Town._ Mrs. Clinket's play is to be read this morning at the tea-table: will you come and divert yourself, Sir?

_Foss._ No: I want to be alone.

_Town._ I hope my company is not troublesome already. I am as yet a bride; not a wife. [_sighs._] What means this sudden change? [_Aside._]

Consider, Mr. Fossile, you want your natural rest: the bed would refresh you. Let me sit by you.

_Foss._ My head akes, and the bed always makes it worse.

_Town._ Is it hereabouts?

[_rubbing his temples._

_Foss._ Too sure.

[_Turns from her._

_Town._ Why so fretful, Mr. Fossile?

_Foss._ No, I'll dissemble my pa.s.sion, and pump her. [_Aside._] Excess of joy, my dear, for my good fortune overcomes me. I am somewhat vertiginous, I can hardly stand.

_Town._ I hope I was ordain'd for thy support.

_Foss._ My disorder now begins to dissipate: it was only a little flatulency, occasion'd by something hard of digestion. But pray, my dear, did your uncle shut you up so close from the conversation of mankind?

_Town._ Sarsnet and Shock were my only company.

_Foss._ A very prudent young woman this Sarsnet; she was undoubtedly a good and faithful friend in your solitude.

_Town._ When it was her interest; but I made no intimacies with my chamber-maid.

_Foss._ But was there no lover offer'd his service to a lady in distress.

_Town._ Tongue, be upon thy guard: these questions must be design'd to trap me. [_Aside._] A woman of my condition can't well escape importunity.

_Foss._ What was the name of that disagreeable fellow, who, you told me, teaz'd you so?

_Town._ His name? I think he had a thousand names. In one letter he was Myrtillo, in another Corydon, Alexis, and I don't know what.

Enter SARSNET in haste to her mistress: He runs and embraces her with great earnestness.

_Foss._ Dear Mrs. Sarsnet, how am I oblig'd to thee for thy services: thou hast made me happy beyond expression.----I shall find another letter upon her.

[_Aside._

[_He gets his hand into Sarsnet's pocket, as searching for a letter._