The Widow's Vow Part 6

COUNTESS. Your Lordship seems formed for the service of a softer Deity; an occupation less perilous than that of war.

ANTONIO. Aye, that you do.

MARQUIS. Pardon me, Madam, the Deity you allude to, I fear may be yet more fatal, unless you will kindly fight on my side.

ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha, I can't help laughing to think what a pretty soldier you would make--You look vastly like a soldier to be sure.--Ha, ha, ha.

MARQUIS. Why not, Sir? (_Angrily._)

ANTONIO. Nay, no offence--d.a.m.n me if I should not like to command a whole regiment of you--and I would go upon some new achievements--For instance, say the enemy were Hotten-tots, I would undertake to poison them all by the scent of perfumes from my army--or in case of a repulse, would engage at any time to raise a mist, and escape pursuit, only by commanding every man to shake his head, and discharge the powder.

MARQUIS. Upon my word, Sir, you are very pleasant. (_Forcing a smile._)

ANTONIO. I am very glad your Lordship thinks so.

_Enter_ SERVANT.

SERVANT. (_To Antonio._) Sir, you are wanted by a gentleman in the parlour.

ANTONIO. Pshaw--I'm busy--Who is it?--(_Servant whispers._) Well then I must come. (_Exit Servant._) My Lord I take my leave for a minute, but I shall soon be back. (_Aside._) How like a man she looks--Impudent hussey. [_Exit._

MARQUIS. Your uncle's behaviour, Madam, has something in it rather extraordinary--I hope I have not in any means offended him?

COUNTESS. I can conceal my knowledge of her no longer. (_Aside._) Oh no, my dear, not at all.

MARQUIS. My dear! (_Aside._)

COUNTESS. I declare I like you so well--so much better than I expected--I can no longer treat you with cold reserve--Come sit down.

(_They sit._)

MARQUIS. How kind is this! (_Drawing his chair near to her._)

COUNTESS. (_Looking at him from head to foot._) Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I protest I can't help laughing--Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

MARQUIS. Ha, ha, ha, ha--I protest no more can I--Sure fate directed me to this heavenly spot, where ceremony has no share in politeness.

COUNTESS. And did you suppose I should use any ceremony with such a sweet, sweet fellow as you?

MARQUIS. Egad, I'll use no ceremony either. (_Aside._) Thus, on my knees, let me pour my thanks.

COUNTESS. Oh you artful creature! (_Stroking his cheek._)

MARQUIS. Art! I disclaim it--and so do you.--You are all pure nature.

COUNTESS. Well, I positively do think you one of the cleverest of your whole s.e.x.

MARQUIS. Thank you--Thank you--my dearest creature. (_Kissing her hand._)

COUNTESS. So negligent--so easy--not the lead awkward or embarra.s.sed!

MARQUIS. Egad, I think you as little embarra.s.sed to the full. (_Aside._) My dear Madam, your charming society has inspired me. (_Salutes her._)

COUNTESS. Now, if you were really a _man_, what would you _deserve_ for that?

MARQUIS. Madam! (_Astonished._)

COUNTESS. I say, if you were _really_ a man, what would you deserve for that freedom?

MARQUIS. _Really_ a man! Why?--What?--Don't I look like a man?

COUNTESS. Yes--that you do--and a sweet pretty man--Come, come, don't be frightened--shake hands--I forgive you--forgive you all your impertinence--and, carry the jest as far as you will, I am resolved not to be angry.

MARQUIS. I am very much obliged to you--infinitely obliged to you--I a.s.sure you this favour--this honour.--I don't know what to say--She absolutely puts me out of countenance. (_Aside._)

COUNTESS. What confused?--Come, resume your gaiety--Come, come--

MARQUIS. Come, come, then. (_seizing her._)

_Enter_ DON ANTONIO.

ANTONIO. Hah!--What! Struggling?

COUNTESS. Oh, Uncle, I have been so ill-used by this Gentleman, that I must beg you will resent his behaviour.

MARQUIS. How!

ANTONIO. Certainly, my dear, if you _have_ been used ill.

COUNTESS. Most scandalously--Frighten her a little. (_Aside to Antonio._)

MARQUIS. Upon my honour, Sir--

ANTONIO. Zounds, Sir, my niece is one of the most reserved, prudent young women--and whosoever offers an insult to her, it is my place, and consistent but with my honour, to resent it.--How white she looks.

(_Aside._)

MARQUIS. Sir, I shall not draw my sword before the Countess, and therefore I beg you will put up your's.

ANTONIO. And so I will, my poor Lady--I see it has frightened you--Here, Niece, have you any hartshorn or drops at hand--the poor thing is terrified out of her life. Come, come, my poor little creature--Poor thing--Poor rogue. (_He goes up to sooth him, and the Marquis gives him a blow._)

MARQUIS. Don Antonio, this insolence shall receive the correction it deserves. (_Draws._)

COUNTESS. She is not in earnest, sure. (_Aside._)

ANTONIO. I have received many a blow from a Lady, but never such a one as this!

MARQUIS. Do you dare to call me a Lady again, Sir?