Married Life: A Comedy, in Three Acts

by John Baldwin Buckstone

Dove. Martha!

Mrs. Dove. How often have I told you never to touch—

Dove. Oh, la! Ah, I forgot.

Mrs. Ly. ’Twas some victim to his villainy, no doubt. How to discover the mystery—how to come upon him, when he may be unprepared for equivocation! I have it—my friends,—(to MR. and MRS. YOUNGHUSBAND)—If you should meet Mr. Lynx, let me implore you not to breathe a syllable of this matter to him—let me be the first to tell him. Pray oblige me by dining here to-morrow,—(To MR. and MRS. DOVE)—you shall then be introduced to my husband, and should it indeed be the person that placed that girl under your care, he cannot dare to deny it. You, my friends—(To MR. and MRS. Y.)—will also be here—nay, I will invite every soul that I am acquainted with, and publicly expose his villainy.

Mrs. Dove. We will do ourselves that honour.

Mrs. Ly. To-morrow, at five.

Mrs. Dove. We shall be punctual, Madam.

Dove. (Aside to MRS. D.)—You said you’d take me to the Jewological Gardens.

Mrs. Dove. We must defer it, my dear.—(Aside to DOVE.)

Dove. That’s the way you always serves me—you never promise to take me any where, but I am continually disappinted.