Sir Peter Teazle. — Well, Charles, I must to-night expostulate with my wife; we shall never have any peace in the family if she go on in this way. I am for letting her have her own way, — but then she will have it in such a manner! I have a great mind to be severe; I have a great mind to oppose her; I could be angry with her, — but how many charms would I lose! — Rage would make her twenty years older in a night; — and yet I cannot help laughing at her, for she is always so happy. — Oh! here she comes.
Lady Teazle. — My dear! — Hush! — where have you been? I have been looking for you. — Miss Lydia, I insist on your giving me an account of what you have been doing all the morning. — Why have you been so delighted? — You are in the highest spirits. — Come, what have you been about? — Who have you seen? — What have you heard? — What have you discovered? — Who have you seen? — Who have you been talked to? — Who? — Who? — Don't be silly, Lydia.
Sir Peter Teazle. — Upon my word, you are both too impertinent. — I protest I do not know what to say; — but I shall be hanged if I will be put upon like a fool. — You are a very pretty creature, madam, to be sure; — but you have an odd way of making a great people dislike you: — you will not keep your temper — you will be always taking people's tempers, — you will be always drawing them on; — but I shall be hanged if I will be trifled with. — I will go into the country, and leave you to your own devices.
Lady Teazle. — What! leave me to my own devices? — Do you defy me? — Do you think I am fit to be left to my own devices? — Ah, Sir Peter! you are a very odd man indeed. — You are always so jealous. — Why do you not trust me? — Do you suspect me of being foolish? — Do you suppose that I have been doing any thing wrong? — I am perfectly innocent; — I am as virtuous as an angel. — I protest, I do not know what to do. — I am so miserable!
Sir Peter Teazle. — Miserable! — You! — Dear madam, you are in a terrible state. — Upon my honor, you look as if you had been at a funeral. — For Heaven's sake, compose yourself. — You will die with your own imagination. — You are a very good-natured woman; but you will never be contented. — You are always tormenting yourself with little things. — You have no magnanimity of mind — you have no serenity — you have no patience.
Lady Teazle. — Indeed, Sir Peter, this is very hard usage. — I wish you would let me be as happy as I can. — I do not desire to have the whole world talk of me. — I only wish my friends to be pleased with me. — I have no wish for celebrity. — I do not want to be admired by every body. — I only want to be beloved by one person, — and that one person is you, Sir Peter. — There; I have said it.
Sir Peter Teazle. — Ha! — I am glad you have owned it at last. — I am glad you have confessed that you have a share of vanity. — But, upon my soul, you will be the death of me with your continual solicitude. — Why will you be always putting me upon the rack? — If I must be put upon the rack, I would rather be used to it; but I cannot endure this sort of mild torture. — I will be hanged if I will submit to it.
Lady Teazle. — You exaggerate every thing, Sir Peter. — You make mountains of mole-hills. — You will be angry with me for nothing. — You will be jealous of me without cause. — I protest I do not deserve it. — I will not be accused by you of want of affection. — I am as fond of ease as you are; — and I wish to be as happy as you wish me to be. — Let us be friends. — Let us forget all that has passed. — Come, take my hand; let us be reconciled.