Married Life: A Comedy, in Three Acts

by John Baldwin Buckstone

Lynx. Indeed! Could you think of no better plan to convict me?—(Taking a chair.)

Mrs. Ly. I have little occasion to tax my invention further, Sir; I now feel quite assured of my misery.

Lynx. Of what misery?

Mrs. Ly. The possession of a husband, who practices concealment.—(Aside)—I did not intend to breathe a syllable of what I have heard; but I cannot resist. I must tell him—perhaps he may be guiltless. Lionel! is the name of Harriet Seymour known to you?

Lynx. (Starting from his seat)—Who has dared to utter that name to you? who has dared to breathe a word of that person?

Mrs. Ly. Ha! now I am, indeed, firmly—wretchedly convinced. What, Sir! your agitation leaves you defenceless?—Where are your arts—your falsehoods—your equivocations, now?

Lynx. Who has been here?

Mrs. Ly. I shall not name.

Lynx. By heaven, you shall.—(Seizing her arm.)