You will have it then! Why, then, take it, with a mischief; take that, and that, and that!
[He beats her; she screams.
MARGERY.
Oh! oh! oh!—pray don't—pray—(Breaks from him, and throws herself into a chair.) O Dick! to go for to strike me! O that I should ever see the day!—you cruel, unkind——Oh! oh!
[Covers her face with her apron, sobs, and cries; and he stands looking at her sheepishly. A long pause.
DICK—(in great agitation.)
Eh, why! women be made of eggshells, I do think. Why, Meg, I didn't hurt you, did I? why don't you speak? Now, don't you be sulky, come; it wasn't much. A man is but flesh and blood, after all; come, I say—I'll never get into a passion with you again to my dying day—I won't—come, don't cry; (tries to remove the apron,) come, kiss, and be friends. Won't you forgive your own dear Dick, won't you? (ready to cry) She won't!—Here, here's the money, and the purse and all—take it, do what you like with it. (She shakes her head.) What, you won't then? why, then, there—(throws it on the ground.) Deuce fetch me if ever I touch it again! and I wish my fingers had been burnt before ever I took it,—so I do! (with feeling.) We were so happy this morning, when we hadn't a penny to bless ourselves with, nor even a bit to eat; and now, since all this money has come to us of a suddent, why, it's all as one as if old Nick himself were in the purse. I'll tell you what, Meg, eh! shall I? Shall I take it back to the lady, and give our duty to her, and tell her we don't want her guineas, shall I, Meg? shall I, dear heart?
[During the last few words Margery lets the apron fall from her face, looks up at him, and smiles.
DICK.