Jos. I know better, Samantha; it is base. I guess I know base when I hear it, and as long as I call myself a man, I will have the privilege of singing base.
Sam. Sing! I’d call it singing.
(Sophronia and the Editor now take advantage of Betsey’s confusion and go triumphantly through it. All then repeat the first part singing it well to the tune of Arlington.)
Peedick. We will now have a intermission of five minutes.
(Editor draws Samantha to front of stage and says):
Ed. How sweet it is Josiah Allen’s wife, for a noble but storm-tosted bark to anchor in a beautiful calm. How sweet it is when you see the ravenin’ tempest a smilin’ at you, I mean a lowerin’ at you, to feel that it can’t harm you, that you are beyond its reach. Josiah Allen’s wife, I feel safe and happy to-night; I believe you are my friend.
Sam. Yes, and you well-wisher; whatever happens, if you are ever encouraged, or any other trial comes to you, remember that I wished you well and pitied you.
Ed. Instead of pitying me, wish me joy. I am married, I was married a week ago.
Sam. Who to?
Ed. The prettiest girl in Log London. She is at her father’s now, but will be here in a few days. I must go, the twins will be waking up. Yes, Miss Allen, I am married and safe.