LADY. Oh ’tis insupportable. No, no, dear friend, make it up, make it up; ay, ay, I’ll compound. I’ll give up all, myself and my all, my niece and her all, anything, everything, for composition. MRS. MAR. Nay, madam, I advise nothing, I only lay before you, as a friend, the inconveniences which perhaps you have overseen. Here comes Mr. Fainall; if he will be satisfied to huddle up all in silence, I shall be glad. You must think I would rather congratulate than condole with you. SCENE VI. FAINALL, LADY WISHFORT, MRS. MARWOOD. LADY. Ay, ay, I do not doubt it, dear Marwood. No, no, I do not doubt it. FAIN. Well, madam, I have suffered myself to be overcome by the importunity of this lady, your friend, and am content you shall enjoy your own proper estate during life, on condition you oblige yourself never to marry, under such penalty as I think convenient. LADY. Never to marry? FAIN. No more Sir Rowlands,—the next imposture may not be so timely detected. MRS. MAR. That condition, I dare answer, my lady will consent to, without difficulty; she has already but too much experienced the perfidiousness of men. Besides, madam, when we retire to our pastoral solitude, we shall bid adieu to all other thoughts. LADY. Ay, that’s true; but in case of necessity, as of health, or some such emergency— FAIN. Oh, if you are prescribed marriage, you shall be considered; I will only reserve to myself the power to choose for you. If your physic be wholesome, it matters not who is your apothecary. Next, my wife shall settle on me the remainder of her fortune, not made over already; and for her maintenance depend entirely on my discretion. LADY. This is most inhumanly savage: exceeding the barbarity of a Muscovite husband. FAIN. I learned it from his Czarish Majesty’s retinue, in a winter evening’s conference over brandy and pepper, amongst other secrets of matrimony and policy, as they are at present practised in the northern hemisphere. But this must be agreed unto, and that positively. Lastly, I will be endowed, in right of my wife, with that six thousand pound, which is the moiety of Mrs. Millamant’s fortune in your possession, and which she has forfeited (as will appear by the last will and testament of your deceased husband, Sir Jonathan Wishfort) by her disobedience in contracting herself against your consent or knowledge, and by refusing the offered match with Sir Wilfull Witwoud, which you, like a careful aunt, had provided for her. LADY. My nephew was _non compos_, and could not make his addresses. FAIN. I come to make demands—I’ll hear no objections. LADY. You will grant me time to consider? FAIN. Yes, while the instrument is drawing, to which you must set your hand till more sufficient deeds can be perfected: which I will take care shall be done with all possible speed. In the meanwhile I will go for the said instrument, and till my return you may balance this matter in your own discretion.