Incompatibility of Temper.: TEI edition

INCOMPATIBILITY OF TEMPER. SCENE. An apartment neatly furnished, door C., door R., door L. Mr. W.

(without, L., calling) Mrs. Worritt! Mrs. Worritt!

Enter MRS. WORRITT, D. R., carrying shawl and bonnet, which she throws on to a chair. Mrs. W.

In a temper again, of course. What a life that man does lead me! If I had my time to come over again, (sighs) I don't think I should be a married woman at the present moment.

Mr. W.

(without) Do you hear me call you, Mrs. Worritt?

Mrs. W.

(screaming out) No, I don't, Mr. Worritt! He is always calling and shouting about the house—I can't bear it, being myself of a remarkably quiet disposition—oh! I feel sometimes as if I could tear him all to pieces! I'll go and see my friend, Selina Sweetner, and she shall advise me what to do. (is about to take her bonnet and shawl from chair.)

Mr. W.

(dashing open D. L., and entering) Mrs. Worritt! (he has a soap-dish in his hand, and wears a dressing gown.)

MRS. W. screams and retreats. Mr. W.

Just be good enough, if you please, to tell me who bought this soap?

Mrs. W.

(clinging to a chair) Oh, dear me—oh, gracious! how you frightened me!

Mr. W.

Frightened you! Because I happened just to speak to you.

Mrs. W.

No; because you dash into the room shouting like a deaf man.

Mr. W.

Like a deaf man? what do you mean by that? In the first place, I am not quite convinced that deaf men are in the habit of shouting; I have visited the deaf and dumb asylum, and nobody there shouted at all; and besides, what if I do raise my voice a little, I have the right to do it. (shouting) Will you tell me who bought this soap?

Mrs. W.

(shouting) No, I won't; because I don't know.

Mr. W.

(shouting) I desire, Elizabeth, that you won't shout in that vulgar manner.

Mrs. W.

It was you that taught me to, William.

Mr. W.

Was it; very well then. (almost in a whisper) Will you be good enough to tell me who bought this soap?

Mrs. W.

(imitating him) I have already told you, I don't know—but I should suppose it was the servant.

Mr. W.

Oh! my shaving provisions are purchased by the cook, are they! Betsy, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Mrs. W.

(taking soap-bowl) And I should like to know what is the matter with the soap.

Mr. W.

What is the matter with it? taste it!

Mrs. W.

(laughing) No, thank you! The soap appears to me to be very good—almond perfume.

Mr. W.

That's just what I complain of—whoever heard of anybody using almond soap to shave with!

Mrs. W.

Why not?

Mr. W.

Why not! You actually ask me why not?

Mrs. W.

Well, why not? How should I know what soap is best to shave with—I have never had occasion to try, have I?

Mr. W.

Well, perhaps not.

Mrs. W.

Perhaps not. Don't insult me, Worritt!

Mr. W.

I am not a professor of chemistry, but I feel convinced that almond soap is injurious to the complexion.

Mrs. W.

What need you care for that? your complexion now cannot be injured, but might be improved.

Mr. W.

(shouting) What? Don't insult me, Mrs. Worritt.

Mrs. W.

(returning soap-dish to him) You can keep this soap for your hands, and buy some other for your beard.

Mr. W.

Buy—buy—oh, yes—'tis very easy to say buy.

Mrs. W.

Well then, don't buy—and rest satisfied with that.

Mr. W.

(shouting) Satisfied with that? (hurling away the soap-dish) This is what I do with that!

Mrs. W.

(quietly) There, now you have soiled the carpet.

Mr. W.

Oh, you cool hypocrite!—insolently amiable. But I see your claws, Mrs. Worritt, beneath your—your velvet hand.

Mrs. W.

(breaking out) Oh, if you wish me to be in a passion, I can do it, Mr. Worritt—and I can tell you that you are ill-tempered and disagreeable—on every occasion—always—that you annoy and torment me past all endurance—that you are not worthy to possess so charming and amiable a wife as I am—and that you—that you— (snatching up and putting on bonnet and shawl) I am going out, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

(commandingly) You are going to retire to your own apartment, Mrs. Worritt.

Mrs. W.

I tell you, Mr. Worritt, I am going out, Mr. Worritt—I have the pleasure of wishing you good morning, Mr. Worritt. (marches off, D. C.)

Mr. W.

There! if that isn't incompatibility of temper, I don't know what is! Oh, woman, woman! when I say woman, I mean women of every sort and description—English women—Dutch women—Cochin-Chinese women, they are all alike. Three years ago I took it into my head that I had better get married—and at that fatal period, I have not the slightest doubt that I was out of my mind—yes—and I was desirous that my wife should bring me, besides every other necessary qualification, a small dowry—and I shouldn't have objected even to a large dowry—but, as I have just said, I was out of my mind, you know. But, father-in-law says to me—"William, it is not money that tempts you, I know—you love Elizabeth for her amiable qualities—you are a good young man, William!" And then I stared at him and looked stupid; I placed my hand upon my heart, and then I said to him—

Enter SELINA SWEETNER, D. C. from L. Selina.

Ah! there you are, Mr. Worritt!

Mr. W.

(vexed at being interrupted) Well, I know that!

Selina.

(going towards D. R.) I am come to have a talk with your wife.

Mr. W.

Did I say you hadn't!

Selina.

(aside) In one of his tempers! (aloud) I shall see you again presently, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

You needn't hurry yourself.

Selina.

(as she goes) Elizabeth! Elizabeth! (Exit, D. R.

Mr. W.

"I placed my hand upon my heart, and I said—if I had fifty thousand pounds a year, I would lay every copper at your daughter's feet—but as I am not worth anything at all approaching to that amount, I can't do it." Then, father-in-law replied—"Noble and disinterested young man, come to my arms, and let me bathe you with my tears!" And he did bathe me—and the bath was not at all agreeable—but, I married Elizabeth—and I had no dowry with her—and that was the first incompatibility of temper! Ah! how often I have said to myself—

Enter SELINA, D. R. Selina.

Elizabeth isn't there!

Mr. W.

(shouting) Well, I know that.

Selina.

Then, why didn't you—

Mr. W.

(stamping) Oh! what an existence!

Selina.

(frightened) What's the matter with him?

Mr. W.

Miss Sweetner—when convicts have served their allotted time, they are set at liberty—and sometimes they obtain a ticket-of-leave long before.

Selina.

(timidly) I know it, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

But husbands have never served their full time—and they never obtain a ticket-of-leave!

Selina.

Why are you always in a passion? your wife is pretty and good.

Mr. W.

Well, my goodness, I know that.

Selina.

Certainly she did not bring you a fortune.

Mr. W.

No, certainly, she did not.

Selina.

But you did not care for that.

Mr. W.

Is it likely! I asked for no fortune with Elizabeth—was contented with my own—it was Betsy's love alone that I desired.

Selina.

'Twas very noble of you.

Mr. W.

(aside) What a cake she is to believe that! (aloud) Well then, with what have you to reproach your wife?

Mr. W.

Her dreadful temper is wearing away my life. You recollect me three years ago, fresh and rosy—

Selina.

(smiling) No, I don't!

Mr. W.

Yes, you do.

Selina.

You were nothing of the sort, I tell you.

Mr. W.

Never mind, we will suppose that I was fresh and rosy—and now, you see, I am blue and yellow—and looking at my face, this morning, I thought I was examining a lump of papier mache. Oh! (about to embrace her) Selina Sweetner, let me weep my sorrows on your gentle bosom.

Selina.

(disengaging herself) Mr. Worritt!

Mr. W.

There's a figure! I think, Miss Sweetner, you lace in a good deal.

Selina.

Well, I'm sure, sir!

Mr. W.

I can stay no longer with you, Miss Sweetner, I feel that my heart is breaking, and I must wash my face. (strides off, D. L.)

Selina.

Oh, what a man! what a man!

Enter MRS. WORRITT, D. C., from L. Mrs. W.

Oh! there you are, and I have been to your house to look for you (takes off and throws aside bonnet and shawl).

Selina.

A piano-forte teacher has little time to receive visits. It is half-past twelve now, and I have to give a lesson at one o'clock, but I thought I would just drop in and say "How d'ye do" to you as I was passing.

Mrs. W.

It was very good of you. Sit down, Selina dear, I want to have a long talk to you. (they sit)

Selina.

(L.) Well, Betsy, what have you got to say?

Mrs. W.

(R.) I want to tell you that my horrible husband—he—he— (jumping up and bursting into tears) Oh, dear—oh, oh, oh!

Selina.

(rising) Ah! and Mr Worritt has just been—

Mrs. W.

(leaving off crying in a moment) Complaining to you, I have not the least doubt—and very much it becomes him, certainly—I who am always so mild and gentle—we are old friends, Selina, and you know, Selina, that I am always as mild and gentle as a little innocent lamb.

Selina.

No, Betsy, I don't quite know that!

Mrs. W.

(rather sharply) Yes, you do, Selina.

Selina.

No, really, I—

Mrs. W.

(passionately and stamping her foot) I tell you, you do, Selina! But it would be no wonder if Mr. Worritt had spoiled my temper—you never knew such a brute in all your life, Selina. I am not an extravagant woman, as you know, dear—I never ask for a new dress above once a fortnight, and Mr. Worritt raves as if I were bringing him to ruin. And you should hear him, just because I ask him to take me to the opera or to the theatre two or three times a week!—and if when we are out walking together I happen to stop before a bonnet shop, oh!—and if I happen to say "What a sweet hat!" or to exclaim "What a lovely bonnet!" he says they are hideous and unbecoming, and drags me away as fast as possible. Yes, but I haven't told you the worst yet, dear. He walked with me the other day when I went to a draper's to make a few purchases, and when I came out I really thought he would have broken a blood-vessel, and I give you my word and honour, I hadn't kept him waiting outside more than an hour and a quarter.

Selina.

Bless me!

Mrs. W.

It is a fact, Selina, I assure you! And what does he do? At every tobacconist's we come to, he buys a cigar or relights the one that has gone out, and then I have to wait outside for him, to be stared at by everybody. There never was a woman that led such a miserable existence!

Selina.

Very dreadful, no doubt, and if I had not so many lessons to give to-day, I would endeavour to find time to pity you.

Mrs. W.

(indignant) Ah! you are an old maid, and can't understand a married woman's feelings.

Selina.

You know very well that I am soon to be married!

Mrs. W.

Let me entreat you, Selina—don't! Be warned by my misery.

Selina.

Just listen to me, Betsy. Men pretend to a superiority over our sex.

Mrs. W.

Superiority indeed! They are altogether inferior animals.

Selina.

But, as the case is at present, it is for us to prove that we are the most sensible.

Mrs. W.

That is easily done, considering what fools men are.

Selina.

Quite right, my dear.

Mrs. W.

Yes; and it is not the first time that I have made that judicious observation.

Selina.

But don't you see that once convinced of that, we ought to have pity on them.

Mrs. W.

I should like to exterminate my tyrant!

Selina.

Nonsense—be amiable with your husband—laugh at him if you like, but in your sleeve, so that he may not perceive it—and if necessary, cry my love—cry!

Mrs. W.

What! Demean myself to cry before my husband? No, Selina; I'd die sooner than I would do that!

Selina.

Make believe my dear, that's all; I can cry whenever I think proper. Be caressing with him—look at him softly and tenderly.

Mrs. W.

Well, I'll try; but I know it will be useless—Mr. Worritt is a savage.

Selina.

I must go away now, to give an hour's lesson, and in twenty minutes I shall be back again. When I return, I shall expect to find you as loving as a pair of turtles. (Exit, C. D. to L.)

Mrs. W.

A pair of turtles! Mr. Worritt is certain to remain a tiger and to pretend to yield when I know that I am so perfectly in the right; I can't bear the thought of it. But I will humiliate myself, only he must beg my pardon very humbly, and if he consents that I may have as many dresses and hats as I please—consents that in every way I shall do just exactly as I think proper—in that case, perhaps, I might be brought to. I am not at all of a vindictive disposition, and I think that then—I am not quite certain, but it is probable that (after a moment's reflection)—no, I don't think I could—never! (flops into chair, R.)

WORRITT enters D. L., slowly and thoughtfully, dressed for walking. Mr. W.

(aside) I have been reflecting, and my conscience has told me that I am not quite so amiable a husband as I might be, and ought to be. I have resolved to reform and will begin at once. (going towards Mrs. W.) Ah! there you are, my love!

Mrs. W.

(aside) His love! (aloud) Yes, here I am, my sweet!

Mr. W.

(aside) Her sweet! (aloud) You see, I am dressed—because I thought—on such a fine day, you might perhaps like a walk. (aside) I can condescend to stoop now, because I mean to conquer afterwards.

Mrs. W.

How good you are. (aside) I will seem to bend now, and I can assert my dignity presently.

Mr. W.

My dear, I have reflected—

Mrs. W.

And so have I, my love—

Mr. W.

And I have been thinking, that perhaps, my temper—

Mrs. W.

And I have been thinking, that perhaps, mine also—

Mr. W.

Henceforth I will prove a most exemplary husband—

Mrs. W.

I will be all that a wife should be—I will no longer covet new dresses—will never again cast my eyes towards a bonnet shop.

Mr. W.

Yes, yes; you must be dressed like an angel.

Mrs. W.

For shame, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

And you must go as often as you please to the opera, and—

Mrs. W.

No, no, I will not ruin my dear husband—

Mr. W.

Ruin me? nonsense! Would you have people call me mean?

Mrs. W.

Do you wish that all the world should accuse me of extravagance?

Mr. W.

I wish that you should obey my commands and so you shall, Mrs. Worritt—so you shall!

Mrs. W.

Oh, shall I? We shall see all about that, Mr. Worritt!

Mr. W.

I am the master, Mrs. Worritt, and I alone have the right to command here.

Mrs. W.

I am the mistress, Mr. Worritt, and my rights are equal to yours, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

A wife's rights—pooh!

Mrs. W.

A husband's rights—rubbish! You are an aristocrat.

Mr. W.

You are the pearl of wicked women.

Mrs. W.

You are the king of all tyrants.

Mr. W.

Hold your tongue, female Lucifer.

Mrs. W.

Silence, Mount Vesuvius! (They march about.)

Enter SELINA SWEETNER, D. C., from L., and observes them, laughing, to herself. Selina.

(coming forward, c.) Heyday, heyday! is this the result of—

Mr. W.

(R.) My dear Selina, you shall be the judge—

Mrs. W.

My dear friend, decide between us!

(together, and talking very fast) Mr. W.

I had yielded to all her demands; all her desires had become for me laws—I had consented to any number of dresses, and any quantity of hats and bonnets—then, she resisted and—

Mrs. W.

I told him that he had only to speak and I would obey—I consented to become his slave—and he, not even then contented with my resignation.

Selina.

Stop! stop! if you go on talking together—

Mr. W.

Well, speak, Mrs. Worritt.

Mrs. W.

No, I yield to you again—after you, Mr. Worritt.

Mr. W.

No, you—

Mrs. W.

No, you—

Mrs. W.

No, you—I accord priority to you! Are you not the master?

Mr. W.

Your sex—your feeble sex has a claim to my consideration! (Both are silent—a pause—and both commence speaking as before, and both together abruptly stop.)

Mr. W.

You see, Selina, there is no doing anything with such a woman as this.

Mrs. W.

Just say, my love, did you ever know such a wretch of a man in all your life?

Selina.

Well, then, I suppose I must speak, and if I am to be judge, I shall say—

Mrs. W.

That right is on my side, of course.

Mr. W.

No, on mine!

Selina.

I shall say that—both are right—

Mr. W. | Mrs. W.

Eh?

Selina.

And both are wrong.

Mr. W. | Mrs. W.

What? Shameful!

Selina.

But I have the means of putting you on good terms with each other.

Mrs. W.

As well try to reconcile a rabbit to a boa-constrictor!

Mr. W.

Or a trembling mouse to terrible grimalkin.

Selina.

'Tis very simple—a new and excellent law which has just come into operation.

Mrs. W.

Are crinolines to be abolished?

Mr. W.

Have they taken the duty off cigars?

Selina.

'Tis a law that will give delight to myriads—the separation of husband and wife for incompatibility of temper.

Mr. W.

Ah!

Mrs. W.

Gracious!

Selina.

Yes, my intended is a lawyer, and very clever, he will separate you directly. Won't it be delightful?

Mrs. W.

(dolefully) Splendid!

Selina.

(to WORRITT) And are not you glad?

Mr. W.

Yes, certainly. I rejoice exceedingly—inwardly!

Selina.

Then, shall I send my intended, the lawyer, to you?

Mr. W.

By all means, let him come directly—

MR. and MRS. W. cross despondingly and sit. Mr. W.

(L.) Mrs. Worrit.

Mrs. W.

(R.) Mr. Worrit.

Mr. W.

Isn't it a beautiful law? The man who invented this law must have been an excellent creature—most particularly a worthy father of a family.

Mrs. W.

Yes, certainly. Henceforth there will be no more unhappy households—no more disputes between man and wife for mere trifles -

Mr. W.

Nothing at all.

Mrs. W.

'Tis no usem, you know, when there is an incompatibility of temper—

Mr. W.

(rising) No, to be sure—incompatibility of temper.(rising) But let us understand each other. I had no dowry with you—

Mrs. W.

(rising) I am perfectly aware of it, but it was your own fault—you should have asked my parents and they— But you loved me so much then; you were so gallant, so tender!

Mr. W.

Yes, I was. And do you remember how beautifully you sang on the piano the evening before our wedding? I never heard anything so enlivening—it sent your father to sleep in less than five minutes.

Mrs. W.

But what mattered that, since it was for you alone I sang?

Mr. W.

Oh, these thrilling reminiscences!

Mrs. W. (coldly)

And you accuse my parents of having abused your disinterestedness, you should have shown more firmness for both our sakes, for I have suffered greatly in being a burthen to you.

Mr. W.

A burthen! Now, Betsy—don't—Elizabeth, I beg you won't. Have I ever complained?

Mrs. W.

Not positively; but sometimes you have caused me to regret that you asked for nothing.

Mr. W.

Have I? Then consider me a rascal,

Mrs. W.

I don't like.

Mr. W.

And believe in my sincere repentance?

Mrs. W.

Yes, I do. (aside) He has a noble heart! (aloud) I freely forgive you, William.

Mr. W.

(aside) What an angel she is! (aloud) When we separate, you will be without a fortune—I will give you half mine

Mrs. W.

I won't accept it.

Mr. W.

You must; I will not suffer that the woman who bears my name—

Mrs. W.

I shall bear it no longer, sir.

Mr. W.

'Tis your name, I have given it to you.

Mrs. W.

You are about to take it back again.

Mr. W.

O, our sweet honeymoon, I have not forgotten thy rays! Why, alas, are they extinguished.

Mrs. W.

Whose fault is that?

Mr. W.

I don't know.

Mrs. W.

Nor more do I; but you are going, and a second wife will—

Mr. W.

Never—"None wed the second, but who kill'd the first;" Shakespeare, hem! but you will find an adorer who will know how to appreciate your good qualities, and then—

Mrs. W.

(tragically) Never, William, never.

Mr. W.

Oh, Elizabeth!

Mrs. W.

Call me Betsy!

Mr. W.

If I do, will you call me Willy?

Mrs. W.

I will, I will—

Mr. W.

Betsy!

Mrs. W.

Willy! (they rush into each others arms.)

Selina.

(running on, D. C. from L.) Your deed of separation will be ready in an hour, and— (stopping on seeing them) Oh, la! (down L.)

Mr. W.

What are you interfering about with your deed of separation?

Mrs. W.

(across C.) I really cannot understand your conduct, Miss Sweetner; it appears to me that you delight in making mischief between married people.

Mr. W.

Yes, Selina, your behaviour is very improper.

Selina.

Indeed!

Mrs. W.

To disunite two such hearts as ours!

Mr. W.

But it can't be done—eh, my darling wife?

Mrs. W.

No, my adored husband.

Selina.

Ah! I understand. I have interfered in what didn't concern me.

Mrs. W.

We forgive you this time, Selina, but don't do it again.

Mr. W.

You have made a shocking mess of it.

Selina.

(smiling) I think not.

Mr. W.

Yours, for all my life, divine Betsy!

Mrs. W.

Yours till death, sweet Willy!

(embracing each other.) MR. WORRITT. MRS. W. SELINA. CURTAIN.