Get out and leave me alone.
Jenny
Do you know, sir, that before leaving this place, I am going to
scratch your eyes out?
Spruce
Sir, to avoid any further quarrel--give her her portrait. You know a
woman scorned is a hundred times more vicious than all the Devils in
Hell.
McNaughten
But, were she a thousand times more of a Devil than she is-- I don't
know her or her mistress.
Spruce (to Jenny)
Never mind what he says. He must still be in love with her. Let me
soften him up a bit. Come back soon, and I will have it for you.
Jenny
Oh, all right. I can wait a little. But if he refuses to listen to
reason when I get back, I am going to burn the house down, understand?
(Smiling)
(Exit Jenny)
McNaughten
I don't know which of those harridans is more frightening: the
mistress or the maid. How can perfect strangers be so enthusiastic
about persecuting me--? Like furies from Hell.
Spruce
A man like you--young, loveable, handsome--is subject to these
misfortunes. Between lovers, fights like these are mere bagatelles.
>From today, I promise to make you friends with her.
McNaughten
Lord forbid.
Spruce (aside)
But, who do I see coming this way? It's the Squire. That hundred
pounds is going to spell trouble for us.
(Enter the Squire)
Squire
Hey, dear fellow, what luck--let me embrace you a thousand times to
show you how happy I am to see you.
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