WOOD. (_following him_) Pistols? Oh, I say, Swansdown--Swansdown! Oh, I say! SWANS. (_stopping suddenly_) Larkings dies! WOOD. Yes; but don't--don't go and cut him off in the flower of his polka--I mean, his youth! SWANS. Ah! here comes Mrs. Larkings! She shall know all! _Enter MRS. LARKINGS, at C. from L._ WOOD. No--no! (_holding SWANSDOWN back, who tries to join MRS. LARKINGS_) MRS. L. (_R._) Still here, Mr. Swansdown, then I shall claim you for my partner in the polka! WOOD. (_aside to SWANSDOWN_) A thousand pardons, madam---- MRS. L. Refuse a lady? Fie--nay, I insist upon it! (_polka music without--SWANSDOWN begins very unwillingly to dance with MRS. LARKINGS--WOODCOCK anxiously following them and dancing a polka steps after them_) MRS. L. (_while dancing_) Besides, Mr. Larkings is dancing with Mrs. Swansdown! SWANS. Ah! (_polking savagely_) MRS. L. Yes, fourth time to-night! WOOD. (_still dancing after them, and aside to MRS. LARKINGS_) Don't tell him that, mum--don't tell him that! MRS. L. Luckily, I'm not jealous! Christopher is constancy itself! SWANS. (_savagely_) Is he? Ha, ha! WOOD. (_still dancing after them, and aside to SWANSDOWN_) Hush, Swansdown, hush! MRS. L. Yes, any woman has my full permission to wean Christopher's affections from me, if she can! WOOD. (_still polking by their side, and aside to MRS. LARKINGS_) Don't aggravate him, mum--don't aggravate him! SWANS. Indeed! What if I place in your hands the proof of your husband's infidelity? WOOD. (_same play_) Hush, Swansdown! MRS. L. Ha, ha! I defy you! WOOD. (_same play_) Don't defy him, mum, don't defy him. SWANS. Indeed! then that proof shall be in your hands in half an hour. WOOD. (_same play_) Hush, Swansdown! SWANS. A letter! a declaration! addressed to my wife by--your husband! MRS. L. (_suddenly stopping_) Christopher unfaithful! Support me! (_falling into WOODCOCK'S arms, who quite bewildered goes on dancing the polka_) _Enter MRS. CARVER, C. from L._ MRS. C. (_seeing MRS. LARKINGS in WOODCOCK'S arm_) Ah! Support me! (_falling into WOODCOCK'S other arm, who, still more bewildered, unconsciously keeps up a polka step_) _Enter LARKINGS, C. from L._ LARK. Ah! (_about to run to MRS. LARKINGS_) SWANS. (_stopping him_) One moment! (_drags him forward--then, savagely aside to him_) We must fight, sir. I know all! all! LARK. (_aside_) The devil! (_aloud_) Well, sir, to-morrow morning! SWANS. No! Now! Now! it's a moonlight night! Primrose Hill close at hand, and I've pistols in my pocket! Woodcock! (_to WOODCOCK, who has placed MRS. LARKINGS and MRS. CARVER each in a chair and is fanning them alternately, still dancing a polka step--SWANSDOWN goes up, seizes WOODCOCK by the arm, and drags him down--aside to him_) You'll be my second? I'm going to shoot Larkings! LARK. (_grasping WOODCOCK'S other arm_) You'll be my second? I'm going to shoot Swansdown! SWANS. } } Come! LARK. }