Law. P. And you oppose him and aggravate him when he gets in these moods, possibly?
Mrs. H. (Sadly.) Oh, no! What good would that do? or rather, what harm wouldn’t it do? I jest stand them as best I may, an’ pray the Good Power above for strength to hold my tongue, an’ bear the affliction which he has seen fit to visit me with. (Farmer H. looks out again with an incredulous, shamefaced expression, and seems about to speak, but the lawyer motions him back.)
Law. P. And you say absolutely nothing?
Mrs. H. I never hev given way to my tongue yet; ef I once should, or to the feelin’ that he rouses in me at sech times, I almost think I should strike him. (Farmer H. again advances, but is motioned back.)
Law. P. Wouldn’t that serve him right?
Mrs. H. (Surprised.) Strike Samuel? I’d never forgive myself ef I did. Yet, it is so hard; you can’t tell! It really seems as ef the harder I tried to hold my tongue an’ keep the peace, the worse he got, until sometimes I ’most think he’d like to kill me!
Law. P. Oh, surely not! His wicked temper would not, or could not, carry itself to such an extent against such an angel of peace. But, I cannot find words to express my opinion of such a brute. I cannot find strong enough terms to convey my condemnation. A man who will seek willfully to quarrel with a wife who is gentleness and meekness itself, to say nothing of the other cardinal virtues, is a selfish heartless piece of humanity, unworthy of the name of man, and deserves nothing better than the public whipping-post, which, unhappily—
Mrs. H. Stop! I will not allow you to speak of Samuel in such a manner! He may hev his little faults as all men do—
Far. H. (Rushing out). Yes, let him say every durned thing he kin of me, Betsey! I deserve it all, an’ a hundred times more—(Mrs. Hanks gives a scream and almost sinks to the floor, but her husband catches her)—when I think of what a howlin’ idjit I’ve b’en all these years. The whippin’-post ain’t half severe enough.
Mrs. H. Oh, you never was that, Samuel!