Short and Sweet: A Comic Drama, in One Act

by Adolphus Charles Troughton

Enter SWEET, L. C., frightened out of his wits, leaning on his wife and STEPHEN, apparently in great pain—MRS. SHORT and SHORT run to meet him.

SWEET. Oh, oh!

SHORT. My dear friend, what is it, tell me!

SWEET. (in a feeble voice) Thrown—thrown from my horse.

MRS. SWEET. (with the greatest solicitude and affection) My poor husband! Quick, quick, the sofa! (STEPHEN wheels sofa to C.) Lay him on the sofa!—gently!—there place you head upon my arm. Where is it you’re in pain? Do tell us?

SWEET. Oh, oh—here—here—there! (seated on sofa, C.)

MRS. SWEET. Run, Stephen, as fast as your legs will carry you for Mr. Sawbone.

SWEET. No, no, I won’t see him, he’ll cut both my legs off.

MRS. SWEET. (to STEPHEN) Get your hat, we’ll send you word if you are to go.

STEPH. Yes, mum. (aside as he goes out looking at SWEET) Well, he has gone and smashed his self.