A LEGEND OF FLORENCE: DOMESTIC CHAT by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT

@3Ginevra@1 (@3cheerfully@1). The world seems glad after its hearty drink
Of rain. I feared, when you came back this morning,
The shower had stopped you, or that you were ill.
@3Ago@1. You feared!—you hoped. What fear you that I fear,
Or hope for that I hope for? A truce, madam,
To these exordiums and pretended interests,
Whose only shallow intent is to delay,
Or to divert, the sole dire subject,—me.
Soh! you would see the spectacle! you, who start
At openings of doors and falls of pins.
Trumpets and drums quiet a lady's nerves,
And a good hacking blow at a tournament
Equals burnt feathers or hartshorn for a stimulus
To pretty household tremblers.
@3Gin@1. I expressed
No wish to see the tournament, nor indeed
Anything, of my own accord, or contrary
To your good judgment.
@3Ago@1. Oh, of course not. Wishes
Are never expressed for, or by, contraries;
Nor the good judgment of an anxious husband
Held forth as a pleasant thing to differ with.
@3Gin@1. It is as easy as sitting in a chair
To say I will not go; and I will not.
Be pleased to think that settled.

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