MAR. Don’t send him away yet—we haven’t had half a talk together.
JOE. No, we haven’t had half a talk together.
MAR. Don’t you go, Joe.
JOE. I don’t mean to!
SIR W. Your conduct, Madam, is most unbecoming! you forget your station—you forget that you are my wife!
MAR. I’m sure I don’t, and I’m sure you take good care that I sha’n’t.
JOE. You take good care that she sha’n’t.
MAR. Hold your tongue, Sir! how dare you speak? I won’t be tethered so tight any longer, I can tell you—and I will be myself again! I’ve tried to be somebody else, and I can’t, and I’ll go and put on my old country clothes again—for I’ve no comfort in these—and then I can do as I like—kiss Joe, and you, and even that old gentleman—though I shouldn’t much like it.
JOE. (after staring at LORD PLATO) I shouldn’t like to kiss him.
PLATO. Really! (going up)