Married Life: A Comedy, in Three Acts

by John Baldwin Buckstone

Mrs. Y. Come, Frederick, we’ll soon leave poor Mrs. Lynx; people don’t like to have their sorrows intruded upon.

Young. We ought rather to stay and console her.

Mrs. Y. A charming consoler you are—how did you console me yesterday, when that frightful bonnet was sent home?

Young. ’Twas your own taste.

Mrs. Y. It was not.

Young. You insisted on having a fall of blond in the front of it.

Mrs. Y. That is the thing I detest.

Young. It is the very thing that you ordered.

Mrs. Y. When I tried it on, you told me that I never looked so frightful in all my life.