Act the Second
Scene I
Laches, Sostrata.
Lach. Oh heav’n and earth, what animals are women!
What a conspiracy between them all,
To do or not do, love or hate alike!
Not one but has the sex so strong in her,
She differs nothing from the rest. Step-mothers
All hate their Step-daughters: and every wife
Studies alike to contradict her husband,
The same perverseness running through them all.
Each seems train’d up in the same school of mischief:
And of that school, if any such there be,
My wife, I think, is schoolmistress.
Sostra. Ah me!
Who know not why I am accus’d.
Lach. Not know?
Sostra. No, as I hope for mercy! as I hope
We may live long together!
Lach. Heav’n forbid!
Sostra. Hereafter, Laches, you’ll be sensible
How wrongfully you have accus’d me.
Lach. I?
Accuse you wrongfully?——Is’t possible
To speak too hardly of your late behavior?
Disgracing me, yourself, and family;
Laying up sorrow for your absent son;
Converting into foes his new-made friends,
Who thought him worthy of their child in marriage.
You’ve been our bane, and by your shrewishness
Brew’d this disturbance.
Sostra. I?
Lach. You, woman, you!
Who take me for a stone, and not a man.
Think ye, because I’m mostly in the country,
I’m ignorant of your proceedings here?
No, no; I know much better what’s done here,
Than where I’m chiefly resident. Because
Upon my family at home depends
My character abroad. I knew long since
Philumena’s disgust to you;——no wonder!
Nay, ’twere a wonder, had it not been so.
Yet I imagin’d not her hate so strong,
’Twould vent itself upon the family:
Which had I dream’d of, she should have remain’d,
And you pack’d off.—Consider, Sostrata,
How little cause you had to vex me thus.
In complaisance to you, and husbanding
My fortune, I retir’d into the country:
Scraping, and laboring beyond the bounds
Of reason, or my age, that my estate
Might furnish means for your expense and pleasure.
—Was it not then your duty, in return,
To see that nothing happen’d here to vex me?
Sostra. ’Twas not my doing, nor my fault indeed.
Lach. ’Twas your fault, Sostrata; your fault alone.
You were sole mistress here; and in your care
You was sole mistress here; and in your care
The house, though I had freed you of all other cares.
A woman, an old woman too, and quarrel
With a green girl! oh shame upon’t!—You’ll say
That ’twas her fault.
Sostra. Not I indeed, my Laches.
Lach. ’Fore Heav’n, I’m glad on’t! on my son’s account.
For as for you, I’m well enough assur’d,
No fault can make you worse.
Sostra. But prithee, husband,
How can you tell that her aversion to me
Is not a mere pretense, that she may stay
The longer with her mother?
Lach. No such thing.
Was not your visit yesterday a proof,
From their denial to admit you to her?
Sostra. They said she was so sick she could not see me.
Lach. Sick of your humors; nothing else, I fancy.
And well she might: for there’s not one of you
But want your sons to take a wife: and that’s
No sooner over, but the very woman
Which, by your instigation, they have married,
They, by your instigation, put away.