MRS. SWEET. Now, Willie, it’s ill-natured of you to say that. If I could, for laughing, I should be angry with you. Ha, ha, ha! I cannot stop myself! Ha, ha, ha!
SWEET. Damn it, madam—will you leave off?
MRS. SWEET. I can’t, William. Ha, ha, ha! The whole thing seems so absurd to me now it’s all over, that I really can’t contain myself! Ha, ha, ha! I shall do myself an injury! Ha, ha, ha! I’ll go out of the room, since it offends you. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Exit, bursting with irresistible laughter, L. 2 E.
SWEET. (pacing the stage in a passion) Such scandalous want of feeling is abominable!—revolting!
MRS. SHORT. (trying to pacify him) Mr. Sweet, pray—
SWEET. (interrupting her, and crossing to L.) No, Mrs. Short—I appeal to you—I appeal to you, ma’am—suppose this misfortune had happened to Short, do you think for one moment that you would have been capable of such behaviour? (crosses to R.)
SHORT. Ah, Sweet!—but there’s no arguing by comparisons—all women are not of the same sensitive disposition as my Louisa. I flatter myself they don’t all feel things alike.
MRS. SHORT. But Fanny is the most affectionate creature in the world, and I am sure, Mr. Sweet, is very sincerely attached to you. It was evidently quite an hysterical affection wholly beyond her power to control—one of those irresistible fits of laughter that we are all of us subject to at times.
SWEET. No, I shan’t pass it off so easily, I assure you. How does she know what may be the end of it? There may be after symptoms.