Did I ever tell you that you were? God forbid I should be so uncharitable, so narrow, so confined! I have cared for some people in the world besides you, and I have told you so.
CHARVILLE.
Yes, Madam; I should have remembered how long Henry Devonford disputed with me the prize of your heart: you favoured us both.
MRS. CHARVILLE.
True, Charles; but where would have been the merit of preferring you, had I cared for nobody else? If I did show some favour to him, it was you whom I married.
CHARVILLE.
Very true, very true! It was me whom you married, married,—married.
MRS. CHARVILLE.
Nay, foolish man! If you will stride about the room so, let us give something of a figure to it. We are too grave for a rigadoon, so we had better make it a minuet. (Holding out her gown, and always facing him, as he turns away, with so much coaxing good humour, that he is at last overcome, and clasps her in his arms.)
CHARVILLE.
My dear, dear Harriet! you treat me like a fool, but I must bear with it. I know thou lovest me better than thou professest to do.
