Why, not exactly; and yet, at present, I’m only aware of one obstacle to my doating upon her, and that is, that I can’t abide her!

Box. Then there’s nothing more easy. Do as I did.

Cox. [Eagerly.] I will! What was it?

Box. Drown yourself!

Cox. [Shouting again.] Will you be quiet, sir?

Box. Listen to me. Three years ago it was my misfortune to captivate the affections of a still blooming, though somewhat middle-aged widow, at Ramsgate.

Cox. [Aside.] Singular enough! Just my case three months ago at Margate.

Box. Well, sir, to escape her importunities, I came to the determination of enlisting into the Blues, or Life Guards.

Cox. [Aside.] So did I. How very odd!

Box. But they wouldn’t have me—they actually had the effrontery to say that I was too short—

Cox. [Aside.] And I wasn’t tall enough!

Box. So I was obliged to content myself with a marching regiment—I enlisted!

Cox. [Aside.] So did I. Singular coincidence!

Box. I’d no sooner done so, than I was sorry for it.

Cox. [Aside.] So was I.

Box. My infatuated widow offered to purchase my discharge, on condition that I’d lead her to the altar.

Cox. [Aside.] Just my case!

Box. I hesitated—at last I consented.

Cox. [Aside.] I consented at once!

Box. Well, sir—the day fixed for the happy ceremony at length drew near—in fact, too near to be pleasant—so I suddenly discovered that I wasn’t worthy to possess her, and I told her so—when, instead of being flattered by the compliment, she flew upon me like a tiger of the female gender—I rejoined—when suddenly something whizzed past me, within an inch of my ear, and shivered into a thousand fragments against the mantel-piece—it was the slop-basin. I retaliated with a tea-cup—we parted, and the next morning I was served with a notice of action for breach of promise.

Cox. Well, sir?

Box. Well, sir—ruin stared me in the face—the action proceeded against me with gigantic strides—I took a desperate resolution—I left my home early one morning, with one suit of clothes on my back, and another tied up in a bundle, under my arm—I arrived on the cliffs—opened my bundle—deposited the suit of clothes on the very verge of the precipice—took one look down into the yawning gulph beneath me, and walked off in the opposite direction.

Cox. Dear me! I think I begin to have some slight perception of your meaning. Ingenious creature! You disappeared—the suit of clothes were found—

Box. Exactly—and in one of the pockets of the coat, or the waistcoat, or the pantaloons—I forget which—there was also found a piece of paper, with these affecting farewell words: “This is thy work, oh, Penelope Ann!”

Cox. Penelope Ann! [Starts up, takes Box by the arm, and leads him slowly to front of stage.] Penelope Ann?

Box. Penelope Ann!

Cox. Originally widow of William Wiggins?

Box. Widow of William Wiggins!

Cox. Proprietor of bathing machines?

Box. Proprietor of bathing machines!

Cox. At Margate?

Box. And Ramsgate!

Cox. It must be she! And you, sir—you are Box—the lamented, long lost Box!

Box. I am!

Cox. And I was about to marry the interesting creature you so cruelly deceived.

Box. Ha! then you are Cox?

Cox. I am!

Box. I heard of it. I congratulate you—I give you joy! And now, I think I’ll go and take a stroll.

[Going.

Cox. No you don’t! [Stopping him.] I’ll not lose sight of you till I’ve restored you to the arms of your intended.

Box. My intended? You mean your intended.

Cox. No, sir—yours!

Box. How can she be my intended, now that I’m drowned?

Cox. You’re no such thing, sir! and I prefer presenting you to Penelope Ann.

Box. I’ve no wish to be introduced to your intended.

Cox. My intended? How can that be, sir? You proposed to her first!

Box. What of that, sir? I came to an untimely end, and you popped the question afterwards.

Cox. Very well, sir!

Box. Very well, sir!

Cox. You are much more worthy of her than I am, sir. Permit me, then, to follow the generous impulse of my nature—I give her up to you.

Box. Benevolent being! I wouldn’t rob you for the world! [Going.] Good morning, sir!

Cox. [Seizing him.] Stop!

Box. Unhand me, hatter! or I shall cast off the lamb and assume the lion!

Cox. Pooh!

[Snapping his fingers close to Box’s face.

Box. An insult! to my very face—under my very nose! [Rubbing it.] You know the consequences, sir—instant satisfaction, sir!

Cox. With all my heart, sir!

[They go to the fire-place, R., and begin ringing bells violently, and pull down bell-pulls.

Both. Mrs. Bouncer! Mrs. Bouncer!

Mrs. Bouncer runs in, L. C.

Mrs. B. What is it, gentlemen?

Box. Pistols for two!

Mrs. B. Yes, sir

[Going.

Cox. Stop! You don’t mean to say, thoughtless and imprudent woman, that you keep loaded fire-arms in the house?

Mrs. B. Oh no—they’re not loaded.

Cox. Then produce the murderous weapons instantly!

[Exit Mrs. Bouncer, L. C.

Box. I say, sir!

Cox. Well, sir?

Box. What’s your opinion of duelling, sir?

Cox. I think it’s a barbarous practice, sir.

Box. So do I, sir. To be sure, I don’t so much object to it when the pistols are not loaded.

Cox. No: I dare say that does make some difference.

Box. And yet, sir—on the other hand—doesn’t it strike you as rather a