Pooh! I defy you.
d.i.c.k--(_doubling his fist._)
Don"t you put me in a pa.s.sion, Meg!
MARGERY.
Get along; I don"t care that for you! (_snaps her fingers._) You used to be my own dear d.i.c.k, and now you"re a cross, miserly curmudgeon--
d.i.c.k--(_quite furious._)
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 d.i.c.k! to go for to strike me! O that I should ever see the day!--you cruel, unkind----Oh! oh!
[_Covers her face with her ap.r.o.n, sobs, and cries; and he stands looking at her sheepishly. A long pause._
d.i.c.k--(_in great agitation._)
Eh, why! women be made of eggsh.e.l.ls, 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 pa.s.sion with you again to my dying day--I won"t--come, don"t cry; (_tries to remove the ap.r.o.n_,) come, kiss, and be friends.
Won"t you forgive your own dear d.i.c.k, 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 ap.r.o.n fall from her face, looks up at him, and smiles._
d.i.c.k.
Oh, that"s right, and we"ll be happy again, and never quarrel more.
MARGERY.
No, never! (_They embrace._) Take it away, for I can"t bear the sight of it.
d.i.c.k.
Take it _you_ then, for you know, Meg, I said I would never touch it again; and what I says, I says--and what I says, I sticks to.
[_Pushes it towards her with his foot._
MARGERY.
And so do I: and I vowed to myself that I wouldn"t touch it, and I won"t.
[_Kicks it back to him._
d.i.c.k.
How shall we manage then? Oh, I have it. Fetch me the tongs here.
(_Takes up the purse in the tongs, and holds it at arm"s length._) Now I"m going. So, Meg, if you repent, now"s the time. Speak--or for ever hold your tongue.
MARGERY.
Me repent? No, my dear d.i.c.k! I feel, somehow, quite light, as if a great weight were gone away from here. (_Laying her hands on her bosom._) Money may be a good thing when it comes little by little, and we gain it honestly by our own hard work; but when it comes this way, in a lump--one doesn"t know how or why--it"s quite too surprising, as one may say;--it gets into one"s head, like--the punch, d.i.c.k!
d.i.c.k.
Aye, and worser--turns it all the wrong way; but I"ve done with both:--I"ll have no more to say to drinking, and fine ladies, and purses o" money;--we"ll go and live in the stall round the corner, and I"ll take to my work and my singing again--eh, Meg?
MARGERY.
Bless you, my dear, dear d.i.c.k! (_kisses him._)
d.i.c.k.
Ay, that"s as it should be:--so now come along. We never should have believed this, if we hadn"t tried; but it"s just what my old mother used to say--MUCH COIN, MUCH CARE.[28]
THE END.
LONDON: IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Some of the sentences which follow (marked by inverted commas,) are taken from a portrait of Mrs. Siddons, dated 1812, and attributed to Sir Walter Scott.]
[Footnote 2: I am permitted to give the following little extract as farther ill.u.s.trating that tenderness of nature which I have only touched upon. "I owe ---- ---- a letter, but I don"t know how it is, now that I am arrived at that time of life when I supposed I should be able to sit down and indulge my natural indolence, I find the business of it thickens and increases around me; and I am now as much occupied about the affairs of others as I have been about my own. I am just now expecting my son George"s two babies from India. The ship which took them from their parents, I thank heaven, is safely arrived: _Oh! that they could know it!_ For the present I shall have them near me. There is a school between my little hut and the church, where they will have delicious air, and I shall be able to see the poor dears every day."]
[Footnote 3: I believe it _has_ been said; but, like Madlle. de Montpensier my imagination and my memory are sometimes confounded.]
[Footnote 4: Ben Jonson.]
[Footnote 5: George the Fourth, after conversing with her, said with emphasis, "She is the only _real_ queen!"]
[Footnote 6: In a letter to Mrs. Thrale.]
[Footnote 7: In the Grosvenor gallery. There is a duplicate of this picture in the Dulwich gallery.]