Married Life: A Comedy, in Three Acts

by John Baldwin Buckstone

Mrs. Cod. Do, do—make him wretched, there’s a love—but for once.

Mrs. Ly. I don’t comprehend you, madam—I can only observe, that your conduct to my husband, a moment since, was as ill-mannered as it seemed suspicious.

Mrs. Cod. He’s a fine spirited man.—(Looking at CODDLE, who is busy wrapping himself closely up.)

Mrs. Ly. Indeed! pray, madam, what might be the subject of your whispers?

Mrs. Cod. I never betray confidence.

Mrs. Ly. Surely you are not that base woman, who, under the mask of friendship, seeks to ruin my peace. I have watched your behaviour before, madam, and I am now convinced there is some secret correspondence existing between you and my husband; and how Mr. Coddle can sit there, and affect to be blind to your actions, I am at a loss to conceive.

Cod. Blind—me affect to be blind—what is there to see, madam?

Mrs. Cod. (Aside.)—This is delicious;—if Coddle would but listen to her.

Mrs. Ly. To see!—quit my house, and from this moment I trust that neither of you will ever enter it again.