"But mind that you let not your spirits run away with your tongue.
No word of this must be spoken to a soul, nor must any mention be
made of it in the hearing of my Cousin Mercy, or the girls. The
four partners in the adventure have all taken a solemn promise to
each other, that they will not breathe a word of it even to their
wives, averring that women could never be trusted to keep a secret;
though as far as I have seen of them, methinks a woman can keep a
bridle on her tongue just as well as a man--and indeed, somewhat
better, since they do not loosen them with cider, or wine, or
strong waters. But I believe, myself, it was not so much that they
doubted whether their wives would keep the secret, as whether they
would approve of the enterprise; and that they made the contract
together, in order that each might, afterwards, be able to assure
his wife that, for his part, he would gladly have taken her into
his confidence, but that he was obliged to fall in with the wishes
of his partners.
"It is a strange thing, Roger, but methinks that, whereas most men
behave valiantly enough when it comes to blows with an enemy, a
great proportion are but cowards with their wives."
"But why should they be, father?"
"That is an easy question to ask, Roger, but a difficult one to
answer. Maybe you will understand the matter better, some day, when
you have taken a wife to yourself. In some matters there is no
doubt that women's wits outrun those of men, and that they have a
wonderful sharpness of tongue. Now a man, when things go wrong with
him, speaks out loudly and roundly; he storms and he rages, but
when it is over, there is an end of it. Now a woman is not like
that. She seems to ponder the matter over in her heart, and to
bring it out as it were piecemeal--throwing little darts at you
when you don't expect it; saying little things to which, from their
suddenness, you can find no reply; and pricking you furiously all
over, until you are ready to roar out with pain and vexation. You
see, Roger, a prick hurteth more than a great cut."
"I should not have thought that, father."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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