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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3539-0.txt b/3539-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ea72de --- /dev/null +++ b/3539-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3656 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Love-Chase, by James Sheridan Knowles + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Love-Chase + +Author: James Sheridan Knowles + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: June 1, 2001 [eBook #3539] +[Most recently updated: September 26, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: David Price + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE-CHASE *** + + + + +THE LOVE-CHASE. + + + BY + JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES + + CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED: + _LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_. + 1887. + + + + +THE LOVE-CHASE. + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + +(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT THE HAYMARKET, IN l837.) +_Sir William Fondlove_, an old Mr. STRICKLAND. + Baronet +_Waller_, in love with Lydia Mr. ELTON. +_Wildrake_, a Sportsman Mr. WEBSTER. +_Trueworth_, a Friend of Sir Mr HEMMINGS. + William +_Neville_, Friend to Waller Mr. WORRELL. +_Humphreys_, Friend to Waller Mr. HUTCHINGS. +_Lash_ Mr. ROSS. +_Chargewell_, a Landlord Mr. EDWARDS. +_George_, a Waiter Mr. BISHOP. +_First Lawyer_ Mr. RAY. +_Widow Green_ Mrs. GLOVER. +_Constance_, Daughter to Sir Mrs. NISBETT. + William Fondlove +_Lydia_, lady's Maid to Widow Miss VANDENHOFF. + Green +_Alice_, Housekeeper to Master Mrs. TAYLEURE. + Waller +_Phoebe_, Maid to Constance Miss WRIGHTEN. +_Amelia_ Miss GALLOT. +_First Lady_ Mrs. GALLOT. + + + +SCENE--LONDON. + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I.--The Lobby of an Inn. + + +[Enter CHARGEWELL, hurriedly.] + +_Charg_. What, hoa there! Hoa, sirrahs! More wine! Are the knaves +asleep? Let not our guests cool, or we shall starve the till! Good +waiting, more than viands and wine, doth help to make the +inn!--George!--Richard!--Ralph!--Where are you? + +[Enter GEORGE.] + +_George_. Here am I, sir! + +_Charg_. Have you taken in more wine to that company? + +_George_. Yes, sir. + +_Charg_. That's right. Serve them as quick as they order! A fair +company! I have seen them here before. Take care they come again. A +choice company! That Master Waller, I hear, is a fine spirit--leads the +town. Pay him much duty. A deep purse, and easy strings. + +_George_. And there is another, sir;--a capital gentleman, though from +the country. A gentleman most learned in dogs and horses! He doth talk +wondrous edification:--one Master Wildrake. I wish you could hear him, +sir. + +_Charg_. Well, well!--attend to them. Let them not cool o'er the +liquor, or their calls will grow slack. Keep feeding the fire while it +blazes, and the blaze will continue. Look to it well! + +_George_. I will, sir. + +_Charg_. And be careful, above all, that you please Master Waller. He +is a guest worth pleasing. He is a gentleman. Free order, quick pay! + +_George_. And such, I'll dare be sworn, is the other. A man of mighty +stores of knowledge--most learned in dogs and horses! Never was I so +edified by the discourse of mortal man. + +[They go out severally.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room. + + +[MASTER WALLER, MASTER WILDRAKE, MASTER TRUEWORTH, MASTER NEVILLE, and +MASTER HUMPHREYS, sitting round a table.] + +_Wal_. Well, Master Wildrake, speak you of the chase! +To hear you one doth feel the bounding steed; +You bring the hounds and game, and all to view-- +All scudding to the jovial huntsman's cheer! +And yet I pity the poor crowned deer, +And always fancy 'tis by fortune's spite, +That lordly head of his, he bears so high-- +Like Virtue, stately in calamity, +And hunted by the human, worldly hound-- +Is made to fly before the pack, that straight +Burst into song at prospect of his death. +You say their cry is harmony; and yet +The chorus scarce is music to my ear, +When I bethink me what it sounds to his; +Nor deem I sweet the note that rings the knell +Of the once merry forester! + +_Nev_. The same things +Please us or pain, according to the thought +We take of them. Some smile at their own death, +Which most do shrink from, as beast of prey +It kills to look upon. But you, who take +Such pity of the deer, whence follows it +You hunt more costly game?--the comely maid, +To wit, that waits on buxom Widow Green? + +_Hum_. The comely maid! Such term not half the sum +Of her rich beauty gives! Were rule to go +By loveliness, I knew not in the court, +Or city, lady might not fitly serve +That lady serving-maid! + +_True_. Come! your defence? +Why show you ruth where there's least argument, +Deny it where there's most? You will not plead? +Oh, Master Waller, where we use to hunt +We think the sport no crime! + +_Hum_. I give you joy, +You prosper in your chase. + +_Wal_. Not so! The maid +In simple honesty I must pronounce +A miracle of virtue, well as beauty. + +_Nev_. And well do I believe you, Master Waller; +Those know I who have ventured gift and promise +But for a minute of her ear--the boon +Of a poor dozen words spoke through a chink-- +And come off bootless, save the haughty scorn +That cast their bounties back to them again. + +_True_. That warrants her what Master Waller speaks her. +Is she so very fair? + +_Nev_. Yes, Master Trueworth; +And I believe indeed an honest maid: +But Love's the coin to market with for love, +And that knows Master Waller. On pretence +Of sneaking kindness for gay Widow Green, +He visits her, for sake of her fair maid! +To whom a glance or word avails to hint +His proper errand; and--as glimpses only +Do only serve to whet the wish to see-- +Awakens interest to hear the tale +So stintingly that's told. I know his practice-- +Luck to you, Master Waller! If you win, +You merit it, who take the way to win! + +_Wal_. Good Master Neville! + +_True_. I should laugh to see +The poacher snared!--the maid, for mistress sought, +Turn out a wife. + +_Nev_. How say you, Master Waller? +Things quite as strange have fallen! + +_Wal_. Impossible! + +_True_. Impossible! Most possible of things-- +If thou'rt in love! Where merit lies itself, +What matters it to want the name, which weighed, +Is not the worth of so much breath as it takes +To utter it! If, but from Nature's hand, +She is all you could expect of gentle blood, +Face, form, mien, speech; with these, what to belong +To lady more behoves--thoughts delicate, +Affections generous, and modesty-- +Perfectionating, brightening crown of all!-- +If she hath these--true titles to thy heart-- +What does she lack that's title to thy hand? +The name of lady, which is none of these, +But may belong without? Thou mightst do worse +Than marry her. Thou wouldst, undoing her, +Yea, by my mother's name, a shameful act +Most shamefully performed! + +_Wal_. [Starting up and drawing.] Sir! + +_Nev_. [And the others, interposing.] Gentlemen! + +_True_. All's right! Sit down!--I will not draw again. +A word with you: If--as a man--thou sayest, +Upon thy honour, I have spoken wrong, +I'll ask thy pardon!--though I never hold +Communion with thee more! + +_Wal_. [After a pause, putting up his sword.] +My sword is sheathed! +Wilt let me take thy hand? + +_True_. 'Tis thine, good sir, +And faster than before--A fault confessed +Is a new virtue added to a man! +Yet let me own some blame was mine. A truth +May be too harshly told--but 'tis a theme +I am tender on--I had a sister, sir, +You understand me!--'Twas my happiness +To own her once--I would forget her now!-- +I have forgotten!--I know not if she lives!-- +Things of such strain as we were speaking of, +Spite of myself, remind me of her!--So!-- + +_Nev_. Sit down! Let's have more wine. + +_Wild_. Not so, good sirs. +Partaking of your hospitality, +I have overlooked good friends I came to visit, +And who have late become sojourners here-- +Old country friends and neighbours, and with whom +I e'en take up my quarters. Master Trueworth, +Bear witness for me. + +_True_. It is even so. +Sir William Fondlove and his charming daughter. + +_Wild_. Ay, neighbour Constance. Charming, does he say? +Yes, neighbour Constance is a charming girl +To those that do not know her. If she plies me +As hard as was her custom in the country, +I should not wonder though, this very day, +I seek the home I quitted for a month! [Aside.] + +Good even, gentlemen. + +_Hum_. Nay, if you go, +We all break up, and sally forth together. + +_Wal_. Be it so--Your hand again, good Master Trueworth! +I am sorry I did pain you. + +_True_. It is thine, sir. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's House.--A Room. + + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +_Sir Wil_. At sixty-two, to be in leading-strings, +Is an old child--and with a daughter, too! +Her mother held me ne'er in check so strait +As she. I must not go but where she likes, +Nor see but whom she likes, do anything +But what she likes!--A slut bare twenty-one! +Nor minces she commands! A brigadier +More coolly doth not give his orders out +Than she! Her waiting-maid is aide-de-camp; +My steward adjutant; my lacqueys serjeants; +That bring me her high pleasure how I march +And counter-march--when I'm on duty--when +I'm off--when suits it not to tell it me +Herself--"Sir William, thus my mistress says!" +As saying it were enough--no will of mine +Consulted! I will marry. Must I serve, +Better a wife, my mistress, than a daughter! +And yet the vixen says, if I do marry, +I'll find she'll rule my wife, as well as me! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Ah, Master Trueworth! Welcome, Master Trueworth! + +_True_. Thanks, sir; I am glad to see you look so well! + +_Sir Wil_. Ah, Master Trueworth, when one turns the hill, +'Tis rapid going down! We climb by steps; +By strides we reach the bottom. Look at me, +And guess my age. + +_True_. Turned fifty. + +_Sir Wil_. Ten years more! +How marvellously well I wear! I think +You would not flatter me!--But scan me close, +And pryingly, as one who seeks a thing +He means to find--What signs of age dost see? + +_True_. None! + +_Sir Wil_. None about the corners of the eyes? +Lines that diverge like to the spider's joists, +Whereon he builds his airy fortalice? +They call them crow's feet--has the ugly bird +Been perching there?--Eh?--Well? + +_True_. There's something like, +But not what one must see, unless he's blind +Like steeple on a hill! + +_Sir Wil_. [After a pause.] Your eyes are good! +I am certainly a wonder for my age; +I walk as well as ever! Do I stoop? + +_True_. A plummet from your head would find your heel. + +_Sir Wil_. It is my make--my make, good Master Trueworth; +I do not study it. Do you observe +The hollow in my back? That's natural. +As now I stand, so stood I when a child, +A rosy, chubby boy!--I am youthful to +A miracle! My arm is firm as 'twas +At twenty. Feel it! + +_True_. [Feeling SIR WILLIAM'S arm.] It is deal! + +_Sir Wil_. Oak--oak, +Isn't it, Master Trueworth? Thou hast known me +Ten years and upwards. Thinkest my leg is shrunk? + +_True_. No. + +_Sir Wil_. No! not in the calf? + +_True_. As big a calf +As ever! + +_Sir Wil_. Thank you, thank you--I believe it! +When others waste, 'tis growing-time with me! +I feel it, Master Trueworth! Vigour, sir, +In every joint of me--could run!--could leap! +Why shouldn't I marry? Knife and fork I play +Better than many a boy of twenty-five-- +Why shouldn't I marry? If they come to wine, +My brace of bottles can I carry home, +And ne'er a headache. Death! why shouldn't I marry? + +_True_. I see in nature no impediment. + +_Sir Wil_. Impediment? She's all appliances!-- +And fortune's with me, too! The Widow Green +Gives hints to me. The pleasant Widow Green +Whose fortieth year, instead of autumn, brings, +A second summer in. Odds bodikins, +How young she looks! What life is in her eyes! +What ease is in her gait!--while, as she walks, +Her waist, still tapering, takes it pliantly! +How lollingly she bears her head withal: +On this side now--now that! When enters she +A drawing-room, what worlds of gracious things +Her curtsey says!--she sinks with such a sway, +Greeting on either hand the company, +Then slowly rises to her state again! +She is the empress of the card-table! +Her hand and arm!--Gods, did you see her deal-- +With curved and pliant wrist dispense the pack, +Which, at the touch of her fair fingers fly! +How soft she speaks--how very soft! Her voice +Comes melting from her round and swelling throat, +Reminding you of sweetest, mellowest things-- +Plums, peaches, apricots, and nectarines-- +Whose bloom is poor to paint her cheeks and lips. +By Jove, I'll marry! + +_True_. You forget, Sir William, +I do not know the lady. + +_Sir Wil_. Great your loss. +By all the gods I'll marry!--but my daughter +Must needs be married first. She rules my house; +Would rule it still, and will not have me wed. +A clever, handsome, darling, forward minx! +When I became a widower, the reins +Her mother dropped she caught,--a hoyden girl; +Nor, since, would e'er give up; howe'er I strove +To coax or catch them from her. One way still +Or t'other she would keep them--laugh, pout, plead; +Now vanquish me with water, now with fire; +Would box my face, and, ere I well could ope +My mouth to chide her, stop it with a kiss! +The monkey! What a plague she's to me! How +I love her! how I love the Widow Green! + +_True_. Then marry her! + +_Sir Wil_. I tell thee, first of all +Must needs my daughter marry. See I not +A hope of that; she nought affects the sex: +Comes suitor after suitor--all in vain. +Fast as they bow she curtsies, and says, "Nay!" +Or she, a woman, lacks a woman's heart, +Or hath a special taste which none can hit. + +_True_. Or taste, perhaps, which is already hit. + +_Sir Wil_. Eh!--how? + +_True_. Remember you no country friend, +Companion of her walks--her squire to church, +Her beau whenever she went visiting-- +Before she came to town? + +_Sir Wil_. No! + +_True_. None?--art sure? +No playmate when she was a girl? + +_Sir Wil_. O! ay! +That Master Wildrake, I did pray thee go +And wait for at the inn; but had forgotten. +Is he come? + +_True_. And in the house. Some friends that met him, +As he alighted, laid strong hands upon Him, +And made him stop for dinner. We had else +Been earlier with you. + +_Sir Wil_. Ha! I am glad he is come. + +_True_. She may be smit with him. + +_Sir Wil_. As cat with dog! + +_True_. He heard her voice as we did mount the stairs, +And darted straight to join her. + +_Sir Wil_. You shall see +What wondrous calm and harmony take place, +When fire meets gunpowder! + +_Con_. [Without.] Who sent for you? +What made you come? + +_Wild_. [Without.] To see the town, not you! A kiss! + +_Con_. I vow I'll not. + +_Wild_. I swear you shall. + +_Con_. A saucy cub! I vow, I had as lief +Your whipper-in had kissed me. + +_Sir Wil_. Do you hear? + +_True_. I do. Most pleasing discords! + +[Enter CONSTANCE and WILDRAKE.] + +_Con_. Father, speak +To neighbour Wildrake! + +_Sir Wil_. Very glad to see him! + +_Wild_. I thank you, good Sir William! Give you joy +Of your good looks! + +_Con_. What, Phoebe!--Phoebe!--Phoebe! + +_Sir Wil_. What wantest thou with thy lap-dog? + +_Con_. Only, sir, +To welcome neighbour Wildrake! What a figure +To show himself in town! + +_Sir Wil_. Wilt hold thy peace? + +_Con_. Yes; if you'll lesson me to hold my laughter! +Wildrake. + +_Wild_. Well? + +_Con_. Let me walk thee in the Park-- +How they would stare at thee! + +_Sir Wil_. Wilt ne'er give o'er? + +_Wild_. Nay, let her have her way--I heed her not! +Though to more courteous welcome I have right; +Although I am neighbour Wildrake! Reason is reason! + +_Con_. And right is right! so welcome, neighbour Wildrake, +I am very, very, very glad to see you! +Come, for a quarter of an hour we'll e'en +Agree together! How do your horses, neighbour? + +_Wild_. Pshaw! + +_Con_. And your dogs? + +_Wild_. Pshaw! + +_Con_. Whipper-in and huntsman? + +_Sir Wil_. Converse of things thou knowest to talk about! + +_Con_. And keep him silent, father, when I know +He cannot talk of any other things? +How does thy hunter? What a sorry trick +He played thee t'other day, to balk his leap +And throw thee, neighbour! Did he balk the leap? +Confess! You sportsmen never are to blame! +Say you are fowlers, 'tis your dog's in fault! +Say you are anglers, 'tis your tackle's wrong; +Say you are hunters, why the honest horse +That bears your weight, must bear your blunders too! +Why, whither go you? + +_Wild_. Anywhere from thee. + +_Con_. With me you mean. + +_Wild_. I mean it not. + +_Con_. You do! +I'll give you fifty reasons for't--and first, +Where you go, neighbour, I'll go! + +[They go out--WILDRAKE, pettishly--CONSTANCE laughing.] + +_Sir Wil_. Do you mark? +Much love is there! + +_True_. Indeed, a heap, or none! +I'd wager on the heap! + +_Sir Wil_. Ay!--Do you think +These discords, as in the musicians' art, +Are subtle servitors to harmony? +That all this war's for peace? This wrangling but +A masquerade where love his roguish face +Conceals beneath an ugly visor!--Well? + +_True_. Your guess and my conceit are not a mile +Apart. Unlike to other common flowers, +The flower of love shews various in the bud; +'Twill look a thistle, and 'twill blow a rose! +And with your leave I'll put it to the test; +Affect myself, for thy fair daughter, love-- +Make him my confidant--dilate to him +Upon the graces of her heart and mind, +Feature and form--that well may comment bear-- +Till--like the practised connoisseur, who finds +A gem of heart out in a household picture +The unskilled owner held so cheap he grudged +Renewal of the chipped and tarnished frame, +But values now as priceless--I arouse him +Into a quick sense of the worth of that +Whose merit hitherto, from lack of skill, +Or dulling habit of acquaintanceship, +He has not been awake to. + +_Con_. [Without.] Neighbour Wildrake! + +_Sir Wil_. Hither they come. I fancy well thy game! +O to be free to marry Widow Green! +I'll call her hence anon--then ply him well. + +[SIR WILLIAM goes out.] + +_Wild_. [Without.] Nay, neighbour Constance! + +_True_. He is high in storm. + +[Enter WILDRAKE and CONSTANCE.] + +_Wild_. To Lincolnshire, I tell thee. + +_Con_. Lincolnshire! +What, prithee, takes thee off to Lincolnshire? + +_Wild_. Too great delight in thy fair company. + +_True_. Nay, Master Wildrake, why away so soon? +You are scarce a day in town!--Extremes like this, +And starts of purpose, are the signs of love. +Though immatured as yet. [Aside.] + +_Con_. He's long enough +In town! What should he here? He's lost in town: +No man is he for concerts, balls, or routs! +No game he knows at cards, save rare Pope Joan! +He ne'er could master dance beyond a jig; +And as for music, nothing to compare +To the melodious yelping of a hound, +Except the braying of his huntsman's horn! +Ask _him_ to stay in town! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Hoa, Constance! + +_Con_. Sir!-- +Neighbour, a pleasant ride to Lincolnshire! +Good-bye! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Why, Constance! + +_Con_. Coming, sir. Shake hands! +Neighbour, good-bye! Don't look so woe-begone; +'Tis but a two-days' ride, and thou wilt see +Rover, and Spot, and Nettle, and the rest +Of thy dear country friends! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Constance! I say. + +_Con_. Anon!--Commend me to the gentle souls, +And pat them for me!--Will you, neighbour Wildrake? + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Why, Constance! Constance! + +_Con_. In a moment, sir! +Good-bye!--I'd cry, dear neighbour--if I could! +Good-bye!--A pleasant day when next you hunt! +And, prithee, mind thy horse don't balk his leap! +Good-bye!--and, after dinner, drink my health! +"A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!"--Do!-- +And give it with a speech, wherein unfold +My many graces, more accomplishments, +And virtues topping either--in a word, +How I'm the fairest, kindest, best of neighbours! + +[They go out severally.--TRUEWORTH trying to pacify WILDRAKE--CONSTANCE +laughing.] + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William's House. + + +[Enter TRUEWORTH and WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone! +She treats me worse and worse! I am a stock, +That words have none to pay her. For her sake +I quit the town to-day. I like a jest, +But hers are jests past bearing. I am her butt, +She nothing does but practise on! A plague!-- +Fly her shafts ever your way? + +_True_. Would they did! + +_Wild_. Art mad?--or wishest she should drive thee so? + +_True_. Thou knowest her not. + +_Wild_. I know not neighbour Constance? +Then know I not myself, or anything +Which as myself I know! + +_True_. Heigh ho! + +_Wild_. Heigh ho! +Why what a burden that for a man's song! +Would fit a maiden that was sick for love. +Heigh ho! Come ride with me to Lincolnshire, +And turn thy "Heigh ho!" into "hilly ho!" + +_True_. Nay, rather tarry thou in town with me. +Men sometimes find a friend's hand of avail, +When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me thine? + +_Wild_. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase! + +_True_. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of that? +I'm for the steeple--not to ride a race, +Only to get there!--nor alone, in sooth, +But in fair company. + +_Wild_. Thou'rt not in love! + +_True_. Heigh ho! + +_Wild_. Thou wouldst not marry! + +_True_. With your help. + +_Wild_. And whom, I prithee? + +_True_. Gentle Mistress Constance! + +_Wild_. What!--neighbour Constance?--Never did I dream +That mortal man would fall in love with her. [Aside.] +In love with neighbour Constance!--I feel strange +At thought that she should marry!--[Aside.] Go to church +With neighbour Constance! That's a steeple-chase +I never thought of. I feel very strange! +What seest in neighbour Constance? + +_True_. Lovers' eyes +See with a vision proper to themselves; +Yet thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm. +First, then, I see in her the mould express +Of woman--stature, feature, body, limb-- +Breathing the gentle sex we value most, +When most 'tis at antipodes with ours! + +_Wild_. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman. +Why, yes; she is a woman, certainly. + +_True_. So much for person. Now for her complexion. +What shall we liken to her dainty skin? +Her arm, for instance?-- + +_Wild_. Snow will match it. + +_True_. Snow! +It is her arm without the smoothness on't; +Then is not snow transparent. 'Twill not do. + +_Wild_. A pearl's transparent! + +_True_. So it is, but yet +Yields not elastic to the thrilled touch! +I know not what to liken to her arm +Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be +The chosen friend of two such neighbours! + +_Wild_. Would +His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free +With neighbour Constance! Can't he let her arms +Alone! I trust their chosen friend +Will ne'er be he! I'm vexed. [Aside.] + +_True_. But graceful things +Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use! +Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room? + +_Wild_. [Snappishly.] No. + +_True_. No! Why, where have been your eyes? + +_Wild_. In my head! +But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.] + +_True_. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which +She floats as though she were a form of air; +The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't; +Her movements are the painting of the strain, +Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness! +Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment +Another one, and each, except its fellow, +Without a peer! You have danced with her! + +_Wild_. I hate +To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course +You have danced with her? + +_True_. I have. + +_Wild_. You have? + +_True_. I have. + +_Wild_. I do abominate to dance!--could carve +Fiddlers and company! A dancing man +To me was ever like a dancing dog! +Save less to be endured.--Ne'er saw I one +But I bethought me of the master's whip. + +_True_. A man might bear the whip to dance with her! + +_Wild_. Not if I had the laying of it on! + +_True_. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme. + +_Wild_. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.] + +_True_. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp! +How well she sings to them! Whoe'er would prove +The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing, +Especially a love-song! + +_Wild_. Does she sing +Such songs to thee? + +_True_. Oh, yes, and constantly. +For such I ever ask her. + +_Wild_. Forward minx! [Aside.] +Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen! +Think'st neighbour Constance is a girl to love? + +_True_. A girl to love?--Ay, and with all her soul! + +_Wild_. How know you that? + +_True_. I have studied close the sex. + +_Wild_. You town-rakes are the devil for the sex! [Aside.] + +_True_. Not your most sensitive and serious maid +I'd always take for deep impressions. Mind +The adage of the bow. The pensive brow +I have oft seen bright in wedlock, and anon +O'ercast in widowhood; then, bright again, +Ere half the season of the weeds was out; +While, in the airy one, I have known one cloud +Forerunner of a gloom that ne'er cleared up-- +So would it prove with neighbour Constance. Not +On superficial grounds she'll ever love; +But once she does, the odds are ten to one +Her first love is her last! + +_Wild_. I wish I ne'er +Had come to town! I was a happy man +Among my dogs and horses. [Aside.] Hast thou broke +Thy passion to her? + +_True_. Never. + +_Wild_. Never? + +_True_. No. +I hoped you'd act my proxy there. + +_Wild_. I thank you. + +_True_. I knew 'twould be a pleasure to you. + +_Wild_. Yes; +A pleasure!--an unutterable pleasure! + +_True_. Thank you! You make my happiness your own. + +_Wild_. I do. + +_True_. I see you do. Dear Master Wildrake! +Oh, what a blessing is a friend in need! +You'll go and court your neighbour for me? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_True_. And says she "nay" at first, you'll press again? + +_Wild_. Ay, and again! + +_True_. There's one thing I mistrust--yea, most mistrust, +That of my poor deserts you'll make too much. + +_Wild_. Fear anything but that. + +_True_. 'Twere better far +You slightly spoke of them. + +_Wild_. You think so? + +_True_. Yes. +Or rather did not speak of them at all. + +_Wild_. You think so? + +_True_. Yes. + +_Wild_. Then I'll not say a word +About them. + +_True_. Thank you! A judicious friend +Is better than a zealous: you are both! +I see you'll plead my cause as 'twere your own; +Then stay in town, and win your neighbour for me; +Make me the envy of a score of men +That die for her as I do. Make her mine, +And when the last "Amen!" declares complete +The mystic tying of the holy knot, +And 'fore the priest a blushing wife she stands, +Be thine the right to claim the second kiss +She pays for change from maidenhood to wifehood. + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. Take that thyself! The first be mine, or none! +A man in love with neighbour Constance! Never +Dreamed I that such a thing could come to pass! +Such person, such endowments, such a soul! +I never thought to ask myself before +If she were man or woman! Suitors, too, +Dying for her! I'll e'en make one among 'em! +Woo her to go to church along with him, +And for my pains the privilege to take +The second kiss? I'll take the second kiss, +And first one too--and last! No man shall touch +Her lips but me. I'll massacre the man +That looks upon her! Yet what chance have I +With lovers of the town, whose study 'tis +To please your lady belles!--who dress, walk, talk, +To hit their tastes--what chance, a country squire +Like me? Yet your true fair, I have heard, prefers +The man before his coat at any time; +And such a one may neighbour Constance be. +I'll show a limb with any of them! Silks +I'll wear, nor keep my legs in cases more. +I'll learn to dance town-dances, and frequent +Their concerts! Die away at melting strains, +Or seem to do so--far the easier thing, +And as effective quite; leave naught undone +To conquer neighbour Constance. + +[Enter LASH.] + +_Lash_. Sir. + +_Wild_. Well, sir? + +_Lash_. So please you, sir, your horse is at the door. + +_Wild_. Unsaddle him again and put him up. +And, hark you, get a tailor for me, sir-- +The rarest can be found. + +_Lash_. The man's below, sir, +That owns the mare your worship thought to buy. + +_Wild_. Tell him I do not want her, sir. + +_Lash_. I vow +You will not find her like in Lincolnshire. + +_Wild_. Go to! She's spavined. + +_Lash_. Sir! + +_Wild_. Touched in the wind. + +_Lash_. I trust my master be not touched in the head! +I vow, a faultless beast! [Aside.] + +_Wild_. I want her not, +And that's your answer. Go to the hosier's, sir, +And bid him send me samples of his gear, +Of twenty different kinds. + +_Lash_. I will, sir.--Sir! + +_Wild_. Well, sir. + +_Lash_. Squire Brush's huntsman's here, and says +His master's kennel is for sale. + +_Wild_. The dogs +Are only fit for hanging!-- + +_Lash_. Finer bred-- + +_Wild_. Sirrah, if more to me thou talkest of dogs, +Horses, or aught that to thy craft belongs, +Thou mayst go hang for me!--A cordwainer +Go fetch me straight--the choicest in the town. +Away, sir! Do thy errands smart and well +As thou canst crack thy whip! [LASH goes out.] +Dear neighbour Constance, +I'll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II. + + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN and LYDIA.] + +_W. Green_. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller calls, +I shall be in at three; and say the same +To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet!-- +What progress, think you, make I in the heart +Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl, +It is a heart to win and man as well! +How speed I, think you? Didst, as I desired, +Detain him in my absence when he called, +And, without seeming, sound him touching me? + +_Lydia_. Yes. + +_W. Green_. And effects he me, or not? How guess you? +What said he of me? Looked he balked, or not, +To find me not at home? Inquired he when +I would be back, as much he longed to see me? +What did he--said he? Come!--Is he in love, +Or like to fall into it? Goes well my game, +Or shall I have my labour for my pains? + +_Lydia_. I think he is in love.--O poor evasion! +O to love truth, and yet not dare to speak it! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. You think he is in love--I'm sure of it. +As well have asked you has he eyes and ears, +And brain and heart to use them? Maids do throw +Trick after trick away, but widows know +To play their cards! How am I looking, Lydia? + +_Lydia_. E'en as you ever look. + +_W. Green_. Handsome, my girl? +Eh? Clear in my complexion? Eh?--brimful +Of spirits? not too much of me, nor yet +Too little?--Eh?--A woman worth a man? +Look at me, Lydia! Would you credit, girl, +I was a scarecrow before marriage? + +_Lydia_. Nay!-- + +_W. Green_. Girl, but I tell thee "yea." That gown of thine-- +And thou art slender--would have hung about me! +There's something of me now! good sooth, enough! +Lydia, I'm quite contented with myself; +I'm just the thing, methinks, a widow should be. +So, Master Waller, you believe, affects me? +But, Lydia, not enough to hook the fish; +To prove the angler's skill, it must be caught; +And lovers, Lydia, like the angler's prey-- +Which, when he draws it near the landing-place, +Takes warning and runs out the slender line, +And with a spring perchance jerks off the hold-- +When we do fish for them, and hook, and think +They are all but in the creel, will make the dart +That sets them free to roam the flood again! + +_Lydia_. Is't so? + +_W. Green_. Thou'lt find it so, or better luck +Than many another maid! Now mark me, Lydia: +Sir William Fondlove fancies me. 'Tis well! +I do not fancy him! What should I do +With an old man?--Attend upon the gout, +Or the rheumatics! Wrap me in the cloud +Of a darkened chamber--'stead of shining out, +The sun of balls, and routs, and gala-days! +But he affects me, Lydia; so he may! +Now take a lesson from me--Jealousy +Had better go with open, naked breast, +Than pin or button with a gem. Less plague, +The plague-spot; that doth speedy make an end +One way or t'other, girl. Yet, never love +Was warm without a spice of jealousy. +Thy lesson now--Sir William Fondlove's rich, +And riches, though they're paste, yet being many, +The jewel love we often cast away for. +I use him but for Master Waller's sake. +Dost like my policy? + +_Lydia_. You will not chide me? + +_W. Green_. Nay, Lydia, I do like to hear thy thoughts, +They are such novel things--plants that do thrive +With country air! I marvel still they flower, +And thou so long in town! Speak freely, girl! + +_Lydia_. I cannot think love thrives by artifice, +Or can disguise its mood, and show its face. +I would not hide one portion of my heart +Where I did give it and did feel 'twas right, +Nor feign a wish, to mask a wish that was, +Howe'er to keep it. For no cause except +Myself would I be loved. What were't to me, +My lover valued me the more, the more +He saw me comely in another's eyes, +When his alone the vision I would show +Becoming to? I have sought the reason oft, +They paint Love as a child, and still have thought, +It was because true love, like infancy, +Frank, trusting, unobservant of its mood, +Doth show its wish at once, and means no more! + +_W. Green_. Thou'lt find out better when thy time doth come. +Now wouldst believe I love not Master Waller? +I never knew what love was, Lydia; +That is, as your romances have it. First, +I married for a fortune. Having that, +And being freed from him that brought it me, +I marry now, to please my vanity, +A man that is the fashion. O the delight +Of a sensation, and yourself the cause! +To note the stir of eyes, and ears, and tongues, +When they do usher Mistress Waller in, +Late Widow Green, her hand upon the arm +Of her young, handsome husband!--How my fan +Will be in requisition--I do feel +My heart begin to flutter now--my blood +To mount into my cheek! My honeymoon +Will be a month of triumphs!--"Mistress Waller!" +That name, for which a score of damsels sigh, +And but the widow had the wit to win! +Why, it will be the talk of east to west, +And north and south!--The children loved the man, +And lost him so--I liked, but there I stopped; +For what is it to love, but mind and heart +And soul upon another to depend? +Depend upon another? Nothing be +But what another wills? Give up the rights +Of mine own brain and heart? I thank my stars +I never came to that extremity. + +[Goes out.] + +_Lydia_. She never loved, indeed! She knows not love, +Except what's told of it! She never felt it. +To stem a torrent, easy, looking at it; +But once you venture in, you nothing know +Except the speed with which you're borne away, +Howe'er you strive to check it. She suspects not +Her maid, not she, brings Master Waller hither. +Nor dare I undeceive her. Well might she say +Her young and handsome husband! Yet his face +And person are the least of him, and vanish +When shines his soul out through his open eye! +He all but says he loves me! His respect +Has vanquished me! He looks the will to speak +His passion, and the fear that ties his tongue-- +The fear? He loves not honestly, and yet +I'll swear he loves--I'll swear he honours me! +It is but my condition is a bar, +Denies him give me all. But knew he me +As I do know myself! Whate'er his purpose, +When next we speak, he shall declare it to me. + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE, dressed for riding, and PHOEBE.] + +_Con_. Well, Phoebe, would you know me? Are those locks +That cluster on my forehead and my cheek, +Sufficient mask? Show I what I would seem, +A lady for the chase? My darkened brows +And heightened colour, foreign to my face, +Do they my face pass off for stranger too? +What think you? + +_Phoebe_. That he'll ne'er discover you. + +_Con_. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants +To speak with him, unless indeed it be +A man in lady's gear; I look so bold +And speak so gruff. Away! [PHOEBE goes out.] That I am glad +He stays in town, I own, but if I am, +'Tis only for the tricks I'll play upon him, +And now begin, persuading him his fame +Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither +On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot! +_This_ he? Why, what has metamorphosed him, +And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman? +Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder, +Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air +The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands. + +_Con_. My veiled face denies me justice, sir, +Else would you see a maiden's blushing cheek +Do penance for her forwardness; too late, +I own, repented of. Yet if 'tis true, +By our own hearts of others we may judge, +Mine in no peril lies that's shown to you, +Whose heart, I'm sure, is noble. Worthy sir, +Souls attract souls when they're of kindred vein. +The life that you love, I love. Well I know, +'Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase, +You stand without a peer; and for myself +I dare avow 'mong such, none follows them +With heartier glee than I do. + +_Wild_. Churl were he +That would gainsay you, madam. + +_Con_. [Curtseying.] What delight +To back the flying steed, that challenges +The wind for speed!--seems native more of air +Than earth!--whose burden only lends him fire!-- +Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport; +Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now! +He takes away my breath! He makes me reel! +I touch not earth--I see not--hear not. All +Is ecstasy of motion! + +_Wild_. You are used, +I see, to the chase. + +_Con_. I am, sir. Then the leap, +To see the saucy barrier, and know +The mettle that can clear it! Then, your time +To prove you master of the manege. Now +You keep him well together for a space, +Both horse and rider braced as you were one, +Scanning the distance--then you give him rein, +And let him fly at it, and o'er he goes +Light as a bird on wing. + +_Wild_. 'Twere a bold leap, +I see, that turned you, madam. + +_Con_. [Curtseying.] Sir, you're good! +And then the hounds, sir! Nothing I admire +Beyond the running of the well-trained pack. +The training's everything! Keen on the scent! +At fault none losing heart!--but all at work! +None leaving his task to another!--answering +The watchful huntsman's cautions, check, or cheer. +As steed his rider's rein! Away they go! +How close they keep together! What a pack! +Nor turn, nor ditch, nor stream divides them--as +They moved with one intelligence, act, will! +And then the concert they keep up!--enough +To make one tenant of the merry wood, +To list their jocund music! + +_Wild_. You describe +The huntsman's pastime to the life. + +_Con_. I love it! +To wood and glen, hamlet and town, it is +A laughing holiday! Not a hill-top +But's then alive! Footmen with horsemen vie, +All earth's astir, roused with the revelry +Of vigour, health, and joy! Cheer awakes cheer, +While Echo's mimic tongue, that never tires, +Keeps up the hearty din! Each face is then +Its neighbour's glass--where Gladness sees itself, +And at the bright reflection grows more glad! +Breaks into tenfold mirth!--laughs like a child! +Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free! +Would scarce accept a kingdom, 'tis so rich! +Shakes hands with all, and vows it never knew +That life was life before! + +_Wild_. Nay, every way +You do fair justice, lady, to the chase; +But fancies change. + +_Con_. Such fancy is not mine. + +_Wild_. I would it were not mine, for your fair sake. +I have quite given o'er the chase. + +_Con_. You say not so! + +_Wild_. Forsworn, indeed, the sportsman's life, and grown, +As you may partly see, town-gentleman. +I care not now to mount a steed, unless +To amble 'long the street; no paces mind, +Except my own, to walk the drawing-room, +Or in the ball-room to come off with grace; +No leap for me, to match the light coupe; +No music like the violin and harp, +To which the huntsman's dog and horn I find +Are somewhat coarse and homely minstrelsy: +Then fields of ill-dressed rustics, you'll confess, +Are well exchanged for rooms of beaux and belles; +In short, I've ta'en another thought of life-- +Become another man! + +_Con_. The cause, I pray? + +_Wild_. The cause of causes, lady. + +_Con_. He's in love! [Aside.] + +_Wild_. To you, of women, I would name it last; +Yet your frank bearing merits like return; +I, that did hunt the game, am caught myself +In chase I never dreamed of! + +[Goes out.] + +_Con_. He is in love! +Wildrake's in love! 'Tis that keeps him in town, +Turns him from sportsman to town-gentleman. +I never dreamed that he could be in love! +In love with whom?--I'll find the vixen out! +What right has she to set her cap at him? +I warrant me, a forward, artful minx; +I hate him worse than ever. I'll do all +I can to spoil the match. He'll never marry-- +Sure he will never marry! He will have +More sense than that! My back doth ope and shut-- +My temples throb and shoot--I am cold and hot! +Were he to marry, there would be an end +To neighbour Constance--neighbour Wildrake--why, +I should not know myself! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Dear Master Trueworth, +What think you!--neighbour Wildrake is in love! +In love! Would you believe it, Master Trueworth? +Ne'er heed my dress and looks, but answer me. +Knowest thou of any lady he has seen +That's like to cozen him? + +_True_. I am not sure-- +We talked to-day about the Widow Green! + +_Con_. Her that my father fancies. Let him wed her! +Marry her to-morrow--if he will, to-night. +I can't spare neighbour Wildrake--neighbour Wildrake! +Although I would not marry him myself, +I could not hear that other married him! +Go to my father--'tis a proper match! +He has my leave! He's welcome to bring home +The Widow Green. I'll give up house and all! +She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake; +He would wear out her patience--plague her to death, +As he does me. She must not marry him! + +[They go out.] + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Widow Green's. + + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, following LYDIA.] + +_Wal_. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia. +Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself! +Thy own perfections 'tis that talk to thee. +Thy beauty rich!--thy richer grace!--thy mind, +More rich again than that, though richest each! +Except for these, I had no tongue for thee, +Eyes for thee!--ears!--had never followed thee!-- +Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me!-- + +_Lydia_. Love +Should seek its match. No match am I for thee. + +_Wal_. Right! Love should seek its match; and that is, love +Or nothing! Station--fortune--find their match +In things resembling them. They are not love! +Comes love (that subtle essence, without which +Life were but leaden dulness!--weariness! +A plodding trudger on a heavy road!) +Comes it of title-deeds which fools may boast? +Or coffers vilest hands may hold the keys of? +Or that ethereal lamp that lights the eyes +To shed the sparkling lustre o'er the face, +Gives to the velvet skin its blushing glow, +And burns as bright beneath the peasant's roof +As roof of palaced prince? Yes, Love should seek +Its match--then give my love its match in thine, +Its match which in thy gentle breast doth lodge +So rich--so earthly, heavenly fair and rich, +As monarchs have no thought of on their thrones, +Which kingdoms do bear up. + +_Lydia_. Wast thou a monarch, +Me wouldst thou make thy queen? + +_Wal_. I would. + +_Lydia_. What! Pass +A princess by for me? + +_Wal_. I would. + +_Lydia_. Suppose +Thy subjects would prevent thee? + +_Wal_. Then, in spite +Of them! + +_Lydia_. Suppose they were too strong for thee? + +_Wal_. Why, then I'd give them up my throne--content +With that thou'dst yield me in thy gentle breast. + +_Lydia_. Can subjects do what monarchs do? + +_Wal_. Far more! +Far less! + +_Lydia_. Among those things, where more their power, +Is marriage one? + +_Wal_. Yes. + +_Lydia_. And no part of love, +You say, is rank or wealth? + +_Wal_. No part of love. + +_Lydia_. Is marriage part of love? + +_Wal_. At times it is, +At times is not. Men love and marry--love +And marry not. + +_Lydia_. Then have they not the power; +So must they hapless part with those they love. + +_Wal_. Oh, no! not part! How could they love and part? + +_Lydia_. How could they love not part, not free to wed? + +_Wal_. Alone in marriage doth not union lie! + +_Lydia_. Alone where hands are free! O yes--alone! +Love that is love, bestoweth all it can! +It is protection, if 'tis anything, +Which nothing in its object leaves exposed +Its care can shelter. Love that's free to wed, +Not wedding, but profanes the name of love; +Which is, on high authority to Earth's, +For Heaven did sit approving at its feast, +A holy thing! Why make you love to me? +Women whose hearts are free, by nature tender, +Their fancies hit by those they are besought by, +Do first impressions quickly--deeply take; +And, balked in their election, have been known +To droop a whole life through! Gain for a maid, +A broken heart!--to barter her young love, +And find she changed it for a counterfeit! + +_Wal_. If there is truth in man, I love thee! Hear me! +In wedlock, families claim property. +Old notions, which we needs must humour often, +Bar us to wed where we are forced to love! +Thou hear'st? + +_Lydia_. I do. + +_Wal_. My family is proud; +Our ancestor, whose arms we bear, did win +An earldom by his deeds. 'Tis not enough +I please myself! I must please others, who +Desert in wealth and station only see. +Thou hear'st? + +_Lydia_. I do. + +_Wal_. I cannot marry thee, +And must I lose thee? Do not turn away! +Without the altar I can honour thee! +Can cherish thee, nor swear it to the priest; +For more than life I love thee! + +_Lydia_. Say thou hatest me, +And I'll believe thee! Wherein differs love +From hate, to do the work of hate--destroy? +Thy ancestor won title to his deeds! +Was one of them, to teach an honest maid +The deed of sin--first steal her love, and then +Her virtue? If thy family is proud, +Mine, sir, is worthy! if we are poor, the lack +Of riches, sir, is not the lack of shame, +That I should act a part, would raise a blush, +Nor fear to burn an honest brother's cheek! +Thou wouldst share a throne with me! Thou wouldst rob me of +A throne!--reduce me from dominion to +Base vassalage!--pull off my crown for me, +And give my forehead in its place a brand! +You have insulted me. To shew you, sir, +The heart you make so light of, you are beloved-- +But she that tells you so, tells you beside +She ne'er beholds you more! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wal_. Stay, Lydia!--No! +'Tis vain! She is in virtue resolute, +As she is bland and tender in affection. +She is a miracle, beholding which +Wonder doth grow on wonder! What a maid! +No mood but doth become her--yea, adorn her. +She turns unsightly anger into beauty! +Sour scorn grows sweetness, touching her sweet lips! +And indignation, lighting on her brow, +Transforms to brightness as the cloud to gold +That overhangs the sun! I love her! Ay! +And all the throes of serious passion feel +At thought of losing her!--so my light love, +Which but her person did at first affect, +Her soul has metamorphosed--made a thing +Of solid thoughts and wishes--I must have her! + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, unnoticed by SIR WALLER, who continues abstracted.] + +_W. Green_. What! Master Waller, and contemplative! +Presumptive proof of love! Of me he thinks! +Revolves the point "to be or not to be!" +"To be!" by all the triumphs of my sex! +There was a sigh! My life upon't, that sigh, +If construed, would translate "Dear Widow Green!" + +_Wal_. Enchanting woman! + +_W. Green_. That is I!--most deep +Abstraction, sure concomitant of love. +Now, could I see his busy fancy's painting, +How should I blush to gaze upon myself. + +_Wal_. The matchless form of woman! The choice calling +Of the aspiring artist, whose ambition +Robs Nature to outdo her--the perfections +Of her rare various workmanship combines +To aggrandise his art at Nature's cost, +And make a paragon! + +_W. Green_. Gods! how he draws me! +Soon as he sees me, at my feet he falls!-- +Good Master Waller! + +_Wal_. Ha! The Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. He is confounded! So am I. O dear! +How catching is emotion. He can't speak! +O beautiful confusion! Amiable +Excess of modesty with passion struggling! +Now comes he to declare himself, but wants +The courage. I must help him.--Master Waller! + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Wal_. Thank +My lucky stars! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. I would he had the gout, +And kept his room! [Aside.]--You're welcome, dear Sir William! +'Tis very, very kind of you to call. +Sir William Fondlove--Master Waller. Pray +Be seated, gentlemen.--He shall requite me +For his untimely visit. Though the nail +Be driven home, it may want clinching yet +To make the hold complete! For that, I'll use him.--[Aside.] +You're looking monstrous well, Sir William! and +No wonder. You're a mine of happy spirits! +Some women talk of such and such a style +Of features in a man. Give me good humour; +That lights the homeliest visage up with beauty, +And makes the face, where beauty is already, +Quite irresistible! + +_Sir Wil_. That's hitting hard. [Aside.] +Dear Widow Green, don't say so! On my life +You flatter me. You almost make me blush. + +_W. Green_. I durst not turn to Master Waller now, +Nor need I. I can fancy how he looks! +I warrant me he scowls on poor Sir William, +As he could eat him up. I must improve +His discontent, and so make sure of him.--[Aside.] +I flatter you, Sir William! O, you men! +You men, that talk so meek, and all the while +Do know so well your power! Who would think +You had a marriageable daughter! You +Did marry very young. + +_Sir Wil_. A boy!--a boy! +Who knew not his own mind. + +_W. Green_. Your daughter's twenty. +Come, you at least were twenty when you married; +That makes you forty. + +_Sir Wil_. O dear! Widow Green. + +_W. Green_. Not forty? + +_Sir Wil_. You do quite embarrass me! +I own I have the feelings of a boy, +The freshness and the glow of spring-time, yet,-- +The relish yet for my young schooldays' sports; +Could whip a top--could shoot at taw--could play +At prison-bars and leapfrog--so I might-- +Not with a limb, perhaps, as supple, but +With quite as supple will. Yet I confess +To more than forty! + +_W. Green_. Do you say so? Well, +I'll never guess a man's age by his looks +Again.--Poor Master Waller! He must writhe +To hear I think Sir William is so young. +I'll turn his visit yet to more account.--[Aside.] +A handsome ring, Sir William, that you wear! + +_Sir Wil_. Pray look at it. + +_W. Green_. The mention of a ring +Will take away his breath. + +_Wal_. She must be mine +Whate'er her terms! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. I'll steal a look at him! + +_Wal_. What! though it be the ring?--the marriage ring? +If that she sticks at, she deserves to wear it! +Oh, the debate which love and prudence hold! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. How highly he is wrought upon! His hands +Are clenched!--I warrant me his frame doth shake! +Poor Master Waller! I have filled his heart +Brimful with passion for me. The delight +Of proving thus my power! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green!-- +She hears not! How the ring hath set her thinking! +I'll try and make her jealous. [Aside.]--Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Would you think that ring +Could tell a story? + +_W. Green_. Could it? Ah, Sir William, +I fear you are a rogue. + +_Sir Wil_. O no! + +_W. Green_. You are! + +_Sir Wil_. No, on my honour! Would you like to hear +The story of the ring? + +_W. Green_. Much--very much. + +_Sir Wil_. Think'st we may venture draw our chairs apart +A little more from Master Waller? + +_W. Green_. Yes. +He'll bring it to a scene! Dear--dear Sir William, +How much I am obliged to him! A scene! +Gods, we shall have a scene!--Good Master Waller, +Your leave I pray you for a minute, while +Sir William says a word or two to me.-- +He durst not trust his tongue for jealousy!--[Aside.] +Now, dear Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. You must promise me +You will not think me vain. + +_W. Green_. No fear of that. + +_Sir Wil_. Nor given to boast. + +_W. Green_. O! dear Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. Nor +A flirt! + +_W. Green_. O! who would take you for a flirt? + +_Sir Wil_. How very kind you are! + +_W. Green_. Go on, Sir William. + +_Sir Wil_. Upon my life, I fear you'll think me vain! +I'm covered with confusion at the thought +Of what I've done. 'Twas very, very wrong +To promise you the story of the ring; +Men should not talk of such things. + +_W. Green_. Such as what? +As ladies' favours? + +_Sir Wil_. 'Pon my life, I feel +As I were like to sink into the earth. + +_W. Green_. A lady then it was gave you the ring? + +_Sir Wil_. Don't ask me to say yes, but only scan +The inside of the ring.--How much she's moved. [Aside.] + +_Wal_. They to each other company enough! +I, company for no one but myself. +I'll take my leave, nor trouble them to pay +The compliments of parting. Lydia! Lydia! + +[Goes out.] + +_W. Green_. What's here? "Eliza!" So it was a lady!-- +How wondrously does Master Waller bear it! +He surely will not hold much longer out.--[Aside.] +Sir William! Nay, look up! What cause to cast +Your eyes upon the ground? What an it were +A lady? + +_Sir Wil_. You're not angry? + +_W. Green_. No! + +_Sir Wil_. She is. +I'll take the tone she speaks in 'gainst the word, +For fifty crowns.--I have not told you all +About the ring; though I would sooner die +Than play the braggart!--yet, as truth is truth, +And told by halves, may from a simple thing, +By misconstruction, to a monster grow, +I'll tell the whole truth! + +_W. Green_. Dear Sir William, do! + +_Sir Wil_. The lady was a maid, and very young; +Nor there in justice to her must I stop, +But say that she was beautiful as young; +And add to that that she was learned too, +Almost enough to win for her that title, +Our sex, in poor conceit of their own merits, +And narrow spirit of monopoly, +And jealousy, which gallantry eschews, +Do give to women who assert their right +To minds as well as we. + +_W. Green_. What! a blue-stocking? + +_Sir Wil_. I see--she'll come to calling names at last.--[Aside.] +I should offend myself to quote the term. +But, to return, for yet I have not done; +And further yet may go, then progress on +That she was young, that she was beautiful. +A wit and learned are naught to what's to come-- +She had a heart!-- + +_W. Green_. [Who during SIR WILLIAM'S speech has turned gradually.] +What, Master Waller gone! [Aside.] + +_Sir Wil_. I say she had a heart-- + +_W. Green_. [Starting up--SIR WILLIAM also.] A plague upon her! + +_Sir Wil_. I knew she would break out! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. Here, take the ring. It has ruined me! + +_Sir Wil_. I vow thou hast no cause +For anger! + +_W. Green_. Have I not? I am undone, +And all about that bauble of a ring. + +_Sir Wil_. You're right, it is a bauble. + +_W. Green_. And the minx +That gave it thee! + +_Sir Wil_. You're right, she was a minx. +I knew she'd come to calling names at last. [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove, leave me. + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green!-- + +_W. Green_. You have undone me, sir! + +_Sir Wil_. Don't say so! Don't! +It was a girl--a child gave me the ring! + +_W. Green_. Do you hear me, sir? I bade you leave me. + +_Sir Wil_. If +I thought you were so jealous-- + +_W. Green_. Jealous, sir! +Sir William! quit my house. + +_Sir Wil_. A little girl +To make you jealous! + +W. Green. Sir, you'll drive me mad! + +_Sir Wil_. A child, a perfect child, not ten years old! + +_W. Green_. Sir, I would be alone, sir! + +_Sir Wil_. Young enough +To dandle still her doll! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. I hate you, sir! Detest you! Never wish +To see you more! You have ruined me! Undone me! +A blighted life I wear, and all through you! +The fairest hopes that ever woman nourished, +You've cankered in the very blowing! bloom +And sweet destroyed, and nothing left me, but +The melancholy stem. + +_Sir Wil_. And all about +A little slut I gave a rattle to!-- +Would pester me for gingerbread and comfits!-- +A little roguish feigning! A love-trick +I played to prove your love! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! +If of my own house you'll not suffer me +To be the mistress, I will leave it to you! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! The ring-- + +_W. Green_. Confound the ring, +The donor of it, thee, and everything! + +[Goes out.] + +_Sir Wil_. She is over head and ears in love with me! +She's mad with love! There's love and all its signs! +She's jealous of me unto very death! +Poor Widow Green! I warrant she is now +In tears! I think I hear her sob! Poor thing! +Sir William! Oh, Sir William! You have raised +A furious tempest! Set your wits to work +To turn it to a calm. No question that +She loves me! None then that she'll take me! So +I'll have the marriage settlements made out +To-morrow, and a special licence got, +And marry her the next day! I will make +Quick work of it, and take her by surprise! +Who but a widower a widow's match? +What could she see with else but partial eyes +To guess me only forty? I'm a wonder! +What shall I pass for in my wedding suit? +I vow I am a puzzle to myself, +As well as all the world besides. Odd's life! +To win the heart of buxom Widow Green! + +[Goes out.] + +[WIDOW GREEN re-enters with LYDIA.] + +_W. Green_. At last the dotard's gone! Fly, Lydia, fly, +This letter bear to Master Waller straight; +Quick, quick, or I'm undone! He is abused, +And I must undeceive him--own my love, +And heart and hand at his disposal lay. +Answer me not, my girl--obey me! Fly. + +[Goes out.] + +_Lydia_. Untowardly it falls!--I had resolved +This hour to tell her I must quit her service! +Go to his house! I will not disobey +Her last commands!--I'll leave it at the door, +And as it closes on me think I take +One more adieu of him! Hard destiny! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +_Con_. The booby! He must fall in love, indeed! +And now he's naught but sentimental looks +And sentences, pronounced 'twixt breath and voice! +And attitudes of tender languishment! +Nor can I get from him the name of her +Hath turned him from a stock into a fool. +He hems and haws, now titters, now looks grave! +Begins to speak and halts! takes off his eyes +To fall in contemplation on a chair, +A table, or the ceiling, wall, or floor! +I'll plague him worse and worse! O, here he comes! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Despite her spiteful usage I'm resolved +To tell her now. Dear neighbour Constance! + +_Con_. Fool! +Accost me like a lady, sir! I hate +The name of neighbour! + +_Wild_. Mistress Constance, then-- +I'll call thee that. + +_Con_. Don't call me anything! +I hate to hear thee speak--to look at thee, +To dwell in the same house with thee! + +_Wild_. In what +Have I offended? + +_Con_. What!--I hate an ape! + +_Wild_. An ape! + +_Con_. Who bade thee ape the gentleman? +And put on dress that don't belong to thee? +Go! change thee with thy whipper-in or huntsman, +And none will doubt thou wearest thy own clothes. + +_Wild_. A pretty pass! Mocked for the very dress +I bought to pleasure her! Untoward things +Are women! [Aside. Walks backwards and forwards.] + +_Con_. Do you call that walking? Pray +What makes you twist your body so, and take +Such pains to turn your toes out? If you'd walk, +Walk thus! Walk like a man, as I do now! + +[Walking] + +Is yours the way a gentleman should walk? +You neither walk like man nor gentleman! +I'll show you how you walk. [Mimicking him.] +Do you call that walking? + +_Wild_. My thanks, for a drill-sergeant twice a day +For her sake! [Aside.] + +_Con_. Now, of all things in the world, +What made you dance last night? + +_Wild_. What made me dance? + +_Con_. Right! It was anything but dancing! Steps +That never came from dancing-school--nor English, +Nor Scotch, nor Irish! You must try to cut, +And how you did it! [Cuts.] That's the way to cut! +And then your chasse! Thus you went, and thus. + +[Mimicking him.] + +As though you had been playing at hop, step, +And jump!--and yet you looked so monstrous pleased, +And played the simpleton with such a grace, +Taking their tittering for compliment! +I could have boxed you soundly for't. Ten times +Denied I that I knew you. + +_Wild_. Twenty guineas +Were better in the gutter thrown than gone +To fee a dancing-master! [Aside.] + +_Con_. And you're grown +An amateur in music!--What fine air +Was that you praised last night?--"The Widow Jones!" +A country jig they turned into a song. +You asked "If it had come from Italy?" +The lady blushed and held her peace, and then +You blushed and said, "Perhaps it came from France!" +And then when blushed the lady more, nor spoke, +You said, "At least it came from Germany!" +The air was English!--a true English air; +A downright English air!--a common air; +Old as "When Good King Arthur." Not a square, +Court, alley, street, or lane about the town, +In which it is not whistled, played, or sung! +But you must have it come from Italy, +Or Germany, or France. Go home! Go home! +To Lincolnshire, and mind thy dog and horn! +You'll never do for town! "The Widow Jones" +To come from Italy! Stay not in town, +Or you'll be married to the Widow Jones, +Since you've forsworn, you say, the Widow Green! +And morn and night they'll din your ears with her! +"Well met, dear Master Wildrake. A fine day! +Pray, can you tell whence came the Widow Jones?" +They love a jest in town! To Lincolnshire! +You'll never do for town! To Lincolnshire; +"The Widow Jones" to come from Italy! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. Confound the Widow Jones! 'Tis true! The air +Well as the huntsman's triple mort I know, +But knew not then indeed, 'twas so disguised +With shakes and flourishes, outlandish things, +That mar, not grace, an honest English song! +Howe'er, the mischief's done! and as for her, +She is either into hate or madness fallen. +If madness, would she had her wits again, +Or I my heart! If hate, my love's undone; +I'll give her up. I'll e'en to Master Trueworth, +Confess my treason--own my punishment-- +Take horse, and back again to Lincolnshire! + +[Goes out.] + +_Con_. [Returning.] Not here! I trust I have not gone too far! +If he should quit the house! Go out of town! +Poor neighbour Wildrake! Little does he owe me! +From childhood I've been used to plague him thus. +Why would he fall in love, and spoil it all! +I feel as I could cry! He has no right +To marry any one! What wants he with +A wife? Has he not plague enough in me? +Would he be plagued with anybody else? +Ever since I have lived in town I have felt +The want of neighbour Wildrake! Not a soul +Besides I care to quarrel with; and now +He goes and gives himself to another! What! +Am I in love with neighbour Wildrake? No. +I only would not have him marry--marry? +Sooner I'd have him dead than have him marry! + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Master Waller's House. + + +[Enter ALICE, hastily.] + +_Alice_. [Speaking to the outside.] Fly, Stephen, to the door! your +rapier! quick!-- +Our master is beset, because of one +Whose part he takes, a maid, whom lawless men +Would lawlessly entreat! In what a world +We live!--How do I shake!--with what address +[Looking out of window.] +He lays about him, and his other arm +Engaged, in charge of her whom he defends! +A damsel worth a broil!--Now, Stephen, now! +Take off the odds, brave lad, and turn the scale! +I would I were a swordsman! How he makes +His rapier fly!--Well done!--O Heaven, there's blood. +But on the side that's wrong!--Well done, good Stephen! +Pray Heaven no life be ta'en!--Lay on, brave lad! +He has marked his man again. Good lad--Well done, +I pray no mischief come!--Press on him, Stephen! +Now gives he ground.--Follow thy advantage up! +Allow no pause for breaths!--Hit him again! +Forbid it end in death!--Lounge home, good Stephen! +How fast he now retreats!--That spring, I'll swear, +Was answer to thy point!--Well fenced!--Well fenced! +Now Heaven forefend it end in death!--He flies! +And from his comrade, the same moment, hath +Our master jerked his sword--The day is ours! +Quick may they get a surgeon for their wounds, +And I, a cordial for my fluttered spirits: +I vow, I'm nigh to swoon! + +_Wal_. [Without.] Hoa! Alice! Hoa! +Open the door! Quick, Alice! Quick! + +_Alice_. Anon! +Young joints take no thought of aged ones, +But ever think them as supple as themselves. + +_Wal_. Alice! + +_Alice_. [Opening the door.] I'm here!--A mercy!-- +Is she dead? + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, bearing LYDIA, fainting.] + +_Wal_. No, she but faints.--A chair!--Quick, Alice, quick! +Water to bathe her temples. + +[ALICE goes out.] + +Such a turn +Kind fortune never do me. Shall I kiss +To life these frozen lips?--No!--of her plight +'Twere base to take advantage. + +[ALICE returns, &c.] + +All is well, +The blood returns. + +_Alice_. How wondrous fair she is! + +_Wal_. Thou think'st her so? [Aside.] No wonder then should I. +[Aloud.] How say you?--Wondrous fair? + +_Alice_. Yes; wondrous fair! +Harm never come to her! So sweet a thing +'Twere pity were abused! + +_Wal_. You think her fair? + +_Alice_. Ay, marry! Half so fair were more than match +For fairest she e'er saw mine eyes before! +And what a form! A foot and instep there! +Vouchers of symmetry! A little foot +And rising instep, from an ankle arching, +A palm, and that a little one, might span. + +_Wal_. Who taught thee thus? + +_Alice_. Why who, but her, taught thee? +Thy mother!--Heaven rest her!--Thy good mother! +She could read men and women by their hands +And feet!--And here's a hand!--A fairy palm! +Fingers that taper to the pinky tips, +With nails of rose, like shells of such a hue, +Berimmed with pearl, you pick up on the shore! +Save these the gloss and tint do wear without. + +_Wal_. Why, how thou talk'st! + +_Alice_. Did I not tell thee thus +Thy mother used to talk? Such hand and foot, +She would say, in man or woman vouched for nature +High tempered!--Still for sentiment refined; +Affection tender; apprehension quick-- +Degrees beyond the generality! +There is a marriage finger! Curse the hand +Would balk it of a ring! + +_Wal_. She's quite restored, +Leave us!--Why cast'st thou that uneasy look? +Why linger'st thou? I'm not alone with her. +My honour's with her too. I would not wrong her. + +_Alice_. And if thou wouldst, thou'rt not thy mother's son. + +[Goes out.] + +_Wal_. You are better? + +_Lydia_. Much!--much! + +_Wal_. Know you him who durst +Attempt this violence in open day? +It seemed as he would force thee to his coach, +I saw attending. + +_Lydia_. Take this letter, sir, +And send the answer--I must needs be gone. + +_Wal_. [Throwing the letter away.] I read no letter! +Tell me, what of him +I saw offend thee? + +_Lydia_. He hath often met me, +And by design I think, upon the street, +And tried to win mine ear, which ne'er he got +Save only by enforcement. Presents--gifts-- +Of jewels and of gold to wild amount, +To win an audience, hath he proffered me; +Until, methought, my silence--for my lips +Disdained reply where question was a wrong-- +Had wearied him. Oh, sir, whate'er of life +Remains to me I had foregone, ere proved +The horror of this hour!--and you it is +That have protected me? + +_Wal_. Oh, speak not on't! + +_Lydia_. You that have saved me from mine enemy-- + +_Wal_. I pray you to forget it. + +_Lydia_. From a foe +More dire than he that putteth life in peril-- + +_Wal_. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me. + +_Lydia_. No! +I will not spare you.--You have brought me to safety, +You whom I fear worse than that baleful foe. + +[Rises to go.] + +_Wal_. [Kneeling and snatching her hand.] Lydia! + +_Lydia_. Now, make thy bounty perfect. Drop +My hand. That posture which dishonours thee, +Quit!--for 'tis shame on shame to show respect +Where we do feel disdain. Throw ope thy gate +And let me pass, and never seek with me, +By look, or speech, or aught, communion more! + +_Wal_. Thou saidst thou lovedst me? + +_Lydia_. Yes! when I believed +My tongue did take of thee its last adieu, +And now that I do know it--for be sure +It never bids adieu to thee again-- +Again, I tell it thee! Release me, sir! +Rise!--and no hindrance to my will oppose, +That would be free to go. + +_Wal_. I cannot lose thee! + +_Lydia_. Thou canst not have me! + +_Wal_. No! + +_Lydia_. Thou canst not. I +Repeat it.--Yet I'm thine--thine every way, +Except where honour fences!--Honour, sir, +Not property of gentle blood alone; +Of gentle blood not always property! +Thou'lt not obey me. Still enforcest me! +Oh, what a contradiction is a man! +What in another he one moment spurns, +The next--he does himself complacently! + +_Wal_. Wouldst have me lose the hand that holds my life? + +_Lydia_. Hear me and keep it, if thou art a man! +I love thee--for thy benefit would give +The labour of that hand!--wear out my feet! +Rack the invention of my mind!--the powers +Of my heart in one volition gather up! +My life expend, and think no more I gave +Than he who wins a priceless gem for thanks! +For such goodwill canst thou return me wrong? + +_Wal_. Yet, for awhile, I cannot let thee go. +Propound for me an oath that I'll not wrong thee! +An oath, which, if I break it, will entail +Forfeit of earth and heaven. I'll take it--so +Thou stay'st one hour with me. + +_Lydia_. No!--Not one moment! +Unhand me, or I shriek!--I know the summons +Will pierce into the street, and set me free! +I stand in peril while I'm near thee! She +Who knows her danger, and delays escape, +Hath but herself to thank, whate'er befalls! +Sir, I may have a woman's weakness, but +I have a woman's resolution, too, +And that's a woman's strength! +One moment more!-- + +_Wal_. Lo! Thou art free to go! + +[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.] + +[LYDIA approaches the door--her pace slackens--she pauses with her hand +upon the lock--turns, and looks earnestly on WALLER.] + +_Lydia_. I have a word +To say to thee; if by thy mother's honour, +Thou swear'st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat. + +_Wal_. I swear as thou propound'st to me. + +_Lydia_. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, why-- +Why have you used me thus? See what you've done! +Essayed to light a guilty passion up, +And kindled in its stead a holy one! +For I do love thee! Know'st thou not the wish +To find desert doth bring it oft to sight +Where yet it is not? so, for substance, passes +What only is a phantasm of our minds! +I feared thy love was guilty--yet my wish +To find it honest, stronger than my fear, +My fear with fatal triumph overthrew! +Now hope and fear give up to certainty, +And I must fly thee--yet must love thee still! + +_Wal_. Lydia! by all-- + +_Lydia_. I pray you hear me out! +Was 't right? was 't generous? was 't pitiful? +One way or other I might be undone: +To love with sin--or love without a hope! + +_Wal_. Yet hear me, Lydia!-- + +_Lydia_. Stop! I'm undone! +A maid without a heart--robbed of the soil, +Wherein life's hopes and wishes root and spring, +And thou the foe that did me so much hate, +And vowed me so much love!--but I forgive thee! +Yea, I do bless thee! + +[Rushing up and sinking at his feet.] + +Recollect thy oath!-- +Or in thy heart lodged never germ of honour, +But 'tis a desert all! + +[She kisses his hand--presses it to her heart, and kisses it again.] + +Farewell then to thee! + +[Rises.] + +Mayst thou be happy. [Going.] + +_Wal_. Wouldst ensure the thing +Thou wishest? + +[She moves towards the door with a gesture that prohibits further +converse.] + +Stop! [She continues to move on.] +Oh, sternly resolute! [She still moves.] +I mean thee honour! + +[She stops and turns towards him.] + +Thou dost meditate-- +I know it--flight. Give me some pause for thought, +But to confirm a mind almost made up. +If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then +Think me a friend far better lost than won! +Wilt thou do this? + +_Lydia_. I will. + +_Wal_. An hour decides. + +[They go out severally.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's House. + + +[Enter WILDRAKE and TRUEWORTH.] + +_Wild_. You are not angry? + +_True_. No; I knew the service +I sent you on was one of danger. + +_Wild_. Thank you. +Most kind you are--And you believe she loves me: +And your own hopes give up to favour mine. +Was ever known such kindness! Much I fear +'Twill cost you. + +_True_. Never mind! I'll try and bear it. + +_Wild_. That's right. No use in yielding to a thing. +Resolve does wonders! Shun the sight of her-- +See other women!--Fifty to be found +As fair as she. + +_True_. I doubt it. + +_Wild_. Doubt it not. +Doubt nothing that gives promise of a care. +Right handsome dames there are in Lancashire, +Whence called their women, witches!--witching things! +I know a dozen families in which +You'd meet a courtesy worthy of a bow. +I'll give you letters to them. + +_True_. Will you? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_True_. The worth of a disinterested friend! + +_Wild_. O Master Trueworth, deeply I'm your debtor! +I own I die for love of neighbour Constance! +And thou to give her up for me! Kind friend! +What won't I do for thee?--Don't pine to death; +I'll find thee fifty ways to cure thy passion, +And make thee heart-whole, if thou'rt so resolved. +Thou shalt be master of my sporting stud, +And go a hunting. If that likes thee not, +Take up thy quarters at my shooting-lodge; +There is a cellar to 't--make free with it. +I'll thank thee if thou emptiest it. The song +Gives out that wine feeds love--It drowns it, man! +If thou wilt neither hunt nor shoot, try games; +Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage, +Backgammon--special recipes for love! +And you believe, for all the hate she shows, +That neighbour Constance loves me? + +_True_. 'Tis my thought. + +_Wild_. How shall I find it out? + +_True_. Affect to love +Another. Say your passion thrives; the day +Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part +Of bridemaid to your bride. 'Twill bring her out. + +_Wild_. You think she'll own her passion? + +_True_. If she loves. + +_Wild_. I thank thee! I will try it! Master Trueworth, +What shall I say to thee, to give her up, +And love her so? + +_True_. Say nothing. + +_Wild_. Noble friend! +Kind friend! Instruct another man the way +To win thy mistress! Thou'lt not break my heart? +Take my advice, thou shalt not be in love +A month! Frequent the playhouse!--walk the Park! +I'll think of fifty ladies that I know, +Yet can't remember now--enchanting ones! +And then there's Lancashire!--and I have friends +In Berkshire and in Wiltshire, that have swarms +Of daughters! Then my shooting-lodge and stud! +I'll cure thee in a fortnight of thy love! +And now to neighbour Constance--yet almost +I fear accosting her--a hundred times +Have I essayed to break my mind to her, +But still she stops my mouth with restless scorn! +Howe'er, thy scheme I'll try, and may it thrive! +For I am sick for love of neighbour Constance. +Farewell, dear Master Trueworth! Take my counsel-- +Conquer thy passion! Do so! Be a man! + +[Goes out.] + +_True_. Feat easy done that does not tax ourselves! + +[Enter Phoebe.] + +_Phoebe_. A letter, sir. + +[Goes out.] + +_True_. Good sooth, a roaming one, +And yet slow traveller. This should have reached me +In Lombardy.--The hand! Give way, weak seal, +Thy feeble let too strong for my impatience! +Ha! Wronged!--Let me contain myself!--Compelled +To fly the roof that gave her birth!--My sister! +No partner in her flight but her pure honour! +I am again a brother. Pillow, board, +I know not till I find her. + +[Enter WALLER.] + +_Wal_. Master Trueworth! + +_True_. Ha! Master Waller! Welcome, Master Waller. + +_Wal_. Good Master Trueworth, thank you. Finding you +From home, I e'en made bold to follow you, +For I esteem you as a man, and fain +Would benefit by your kind offices. +But let me tell you first, to your reproof, +I am indebted more than e'er I was +To praise of any other! I am come, sir, +To give you evidence I am not one +Who owns advice is right, and acts not on't. + +_True_. Pray you explain. + +_Wal_. Will you the bearer be +Of this to one has cause to thank you, too, +Though I the larger debtor?--Read it, sir. + +_True_. [Reading the letter.] "At morn to-morrow I will make you mine; +Will you accept from me the name of wife-- +The name of husband give me in exchange?" + +_Wal_. How say you, sir? + +_True_. 'Tis boldly--nobly done! + +_Wal_. If she consents--which affectation 'twere +To say I doubt--bid her prepare for church, +And you shall act the father, sir, to her +You did the brother by. + +_True_. Right willingly, +Though matter of high moment I defer, +Mind, heart, and soul, are all enlisted in! + +_Wal_. May I implore you, haste! A time is set!-- +How light an act of duty makes the heart! + +[They go out together.] + + +SCENE III.--Another Chamber in Sir William's house. + + +[CONSTANCE discovered.] + +_Con_. I'll pine to death for no man! Wise it were, +Indeed, to die for neighbour Wildrake--No!-- +I know the duty of a woman, better-- +What fits a maid of spirit! I am out +Of patience with myself, to cast a thought +Away upon him. Hang him! Lovers cost +Nought but the pains of luring. I'll get fifty, +And break the heart of every one of them! +I will! I'll be the champion of my sex, +And take revenge on shallow, fickle man, +Who gives his heart to fools, and slights the worth +Of proper women! I suppose she's handsome! +My face 'gainst hers, at hazard of mine eyes! +A maid of mind! I'll talk her to a stand, +Or tie my tongue for life! A maid of soul! +An artful, managing, dissembling one! +Or she had never caught. Him!--he's no man +To fall in love himself, or long ago +I warrant he had fall'n in love with me! +I hate the fool--I do! Ha, here he comes. +What brings him hither? Let me dry my eyes; +He must not see I have been crying. Hang him, +I have much to do, indeed, to cry for him! + +[Enter WILDRAKE] + +_Wild_. Your servant, neighbour Constance. + +_Con_. Servant, sir! +Now what, I wonder, comes the fool to say, +Makes him look so important? + +_Wild_. Neighbour Constance, +I am a happy man. + +_Con_. What makes you so? + +_Wild_. A thriving suit. + +_Con_. In Chancery? + +_Wild_. Oh, no! +In love. + +_Con_. Oh, true! You are in love! Go on! + +_Wild_. Well, as I said, my suit's a thriving one. + +_Con_. You mean you are beloved again!--I don't +Believe it. + +_Wild_. I can give you proof. + +_Con_. What proof? +Love letters? She's a shameless maid +To write them! Can she spell? Ay, I suppose +With prompting of a dictionary! + +_Wild_. Nay, +Without one. + +_Con_. I will lay you ten to one +She cannot spell! How know you she can spell? +You cannot spell yourself! You write command +With a single M--C-O-M-A-N-D: +Yours to Co-mand. + +_Wild_. I did not say she wrote +Love letters to me. + +_Con_. Then she suffers you to press +Her hand, perhaps? + +_Wild_. She does. + +_Con_. Does she press yours? + +_Wild_. She does.--It goes on swimmingly! [Aside.] + +_Con_. She does! +She is no modest woman! I'll be bound, +Your arm the madam suffers round her waist? + +_Wild_. She does! + +_Con_. She does! Outrageous forwardness! +Does she let you kiss her? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_Con_. She should be-- + +_Wild_. What? + +_Con_. What you got thrice your share of when at school, +And yet not half your due! A brazen face! +More could not grant a maid about to wed. + +_Wild_. She is so. + +_Con_. What? + +_Wild_. How swimmingly it goes! [Aside.] + +_Con_. [With suppressed impatience.] Are you about to marry, neighbour +Wildrake? +Are you about to marry? + +_Wild_. Excellent. [Aside.] + +_Con_. [Breaking out.] Why don't you answer me? + +_Wild_. I am. + +_Con_. You are-- +I tell you what, sir--You're a fool! + +_Wild_. For what? + +_Con_. You are not fit to marry. Do not know +Enough of the world, sir! Have no more experience, +Thought, judgment, than a schoolboy! Have no mind +Of your own!--your wife will make a fool of you, +Will jilt you, break your heart! I wish she may, +I do! You have no more business with a wife +Than I have! Do you mean to say, indeed, +You are about to marry? + +_Wild_. Yes, indeed. + +_Con_. And when? + +_Wild_. I'll say to-morrow! [Aside.] + +_Con_. When, I say? + +_Wild_. To-morrow. + +_Con_. Thank you: much beholden to you! +You've told me on't in time! I'm very much +Beholden to you, neighbour Wildrake! +And, I pray you, at what hour? + +_Wild_. That we have left +For you to name. + +_Con_. For me! + +_Wild_. For you. + +_Con_. Indeed. +You're very bountiful! I should not wonder +Meant you I should be bridemaid to the lady? + +_Wild_. 'Tis just the thing I mean! + +_Con_. [Furiously.] The thing you mean! +Now pray you, neighbour, tell me that again, +And think before you speak; for much I doubt +You know what you are saying. Do you mean +To ask me to be bridemaid? + +_Wild_. Even so. + +_Con_. Bridemaid? + +_Wild_. Ay, bridemaid!--It is coming fast +Unto a head. [Aside.] + +_Con_. And 'tis for me you wait +To fix the day? It shall be doomsday, then! + +_Wild_. Be doomsday? + +_Con_. Doomsday! + +_Wild_. Wherefore doomsday? + +_Con_. Wherefore!--[Boxes him.] +Go ask your bride, and give her that from me. +Look, neighbour Wildrake! you may think this strange, +But don't misconstrue it! For you are vain, sir! +And may put down for love what comes from hate. +I should not wonder, thought you I was jealous; +But I'm not jealous, sir!--would scorn to be so +Where it was worth my while--I pray henceforth +We may be strangers, sir--you will oblige me +By going out of town. I should not like +To meet you on the street, sir. Marry, sir! +Marry to-day! The sooner, sir, the better! +And may you find you have made a bargain, sir. +As for the lady!--much I wish her joy. +I pray you send me no bridecake, sir! +Nor gloves--If you do, I'll give them to my maid! +Or throw them into the kennel--or the fire. +I am your most obedient servant, sir! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. She is a riddle, solve her he who can! + +[Goes out.] + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[SIR WILLIAM seated with two Lawyers.] + +_Sir Wil_. How many words you take to tell few things +Again, again say over what, said once, +Methinks were told enough! + +_First Lawyer_. It is the law, +Which labours at precision. + +_Sir Wil_. Yes; and thrives +Upon uncertainty--and makes it, too, +With all its pains to shun it. I could bind +Myself, methinks, with but the twentieth part +Of all this cordage, sirs.--But every man, +As they say, to his own business. You think +The settlement is handsome? + +_First Lawyer_. Very, sir. + +_Sir Wil_. Then now, sirs, we have done, and take my thanks, +Which, with your charges, I will render you +Again to-morrow. + +_First Lawyer_. Happy nuptials, sir. + +[Lawyers go out.] + +_Sir Wil_. Who passes there? Hoa! send my daughter to me, +And Master Wildrake too! I wait for them. +Bold work!--Without her leave to wait upon her, +And ask her go to church!--'Tis taking her +By storm! What else could move her yesterday +But jealousy? What causeth jealousy +But love? She's mine the moment she receives +Conclusive proof, like this, that heart and soul, +And mind and person, I am all her own! +Heigh ho! These soft alarms are very sweet, +And yet tormenting too! Ha! Master Wildrake, + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +I am glad you're ready, for I'm all in arms +To bear the widow off. Come! Don't be sad; +All must go merrily, you know, to-day!-- +She still doth bear him hard, I see! The girl +Affects him not, and Trueworth is at fault, +Though clear it is that he doth die for her. [Aside.] +Well, daughter?--So I see you're ready too. + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +Why, what's amiss with thee? + +_Phoebe_. [Entering.] The coach is here. + +_Sir Wil_. Come, Wildrake, offer her your arm. + +_Con_. [To WILDRAKE.] I thank you! +I am not an invalid!--can use my limbs! +He knows not how to make an arm, befits +A lady lean upon. + +_Sir Wil_. Why, teach him, then. + +_Con_. Teach him! Teach Master Wildrake! Teach, indeed! +I taught my dog to beg, because I knew +That he could learn it. + +_Sir Wil_. Peace, thou little shrew! +I'll have no wrangling on my wedding-day! +Here, take my arm. + +_Con_. I'll not!--I'll walk alone! +Live, die alone! I do abominate +The fool and all his sex! + +_Sir Wil_. Again! + +_Con_. I have done. +When do you marry, Master Wildrake? She +Will want a husband goes to church with thee! + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE II.--Widow Green's Dressing-room. + + +[WIDOW GREEN discovered at her Toilet, attended by AMELIA, WALLER'S +Letter to LYDIA in her hand.] + +_W. Green_. Oh, bond of destiny!--Fair bond, that seal'st +My fate in happiness! I'll read thee yet +Again--although thou'rt written on my heart. +But here his hand, indicting thee, did lie! +And this the tracing of his fingers! So +I read thee that could rhyme thee, as my prayers! +"At morn to-morrow I will make you mine. +Will you accept from me the name of wife-- +The name of husband give me in exchange?" +The traitress! to break ope my billet-doux, +And take the envelope!--But I forgive her, +Since she did leave the rich contents behind. +Amelia, give this feather more a slope, +That it sit droopingly. I would look all +Dissolvement, nought about me to bespeak +Boldness! I would appear a timid bride, +Trembling upon the verge of wifehood, as +I ne'er before had stood there! That will do. +Oh dear!--How I am agitated--don't +I look so? I have found a secret out,-- +Nothing in woman strikes a man so much +As to look interesting! Hang this cheek +Of mine! It is too saucy; what a pity +To have a colour of one's own!--Amelia! +Could you contrive, dear girl, to bleach my cheek, +How I would thank you! I could give it then +What tint I chose, and that should be the hectic +Bespeaks a heart in delicate commotion. +I am much too florid! Stick a rose in my hair, +The brightest you can find, 'twill help, my girl, +Subdue my rebel colour--Nay, the rose +Doth lose complexion, not my cheek! Exchange it +For a carnation. That's the flower, Amelia! +You see how it doth triumph o'er my cheek. +Are you content with me? + +_Amelia_. I am, my lady. + +_W. Green_. And whither think you has the hussy gone, +Whose place you fill so well?--Into the country? +Or fancy you she stops in town? + +_Amelia_. I can't +Conjecture. + +_W. Green_. Shame upon her!--Leave her place +Without a moment's warning!--with a man, too! +Seemed he a gentleman that took her hence? + +_Amelia_. He did. + +_W. Green_. You never saw him here before? + +_Amelia_. Never. + +_W. Green_. Not lounging on the other side +Of the street, and reconnoitring the windows? + +_Amelia_. Never. + +_W. Green_. 'Twas planned by letter. Notes, you know, +Have often come to her--But I forgive her, +Since this advice she chanced to leave behind +Of gentle Master Waller's wishes, which +I bless myself in blessing!--Gods, a knock! +'Tis he! Show in those ladies are so kind +To act my bridemaids for me on this brief +And agitating notice. + +[AMELIA goes out.] + +Yes, I look +A bride sufficiently! And this the hand +That gives away my liberty again. +Upon my life it is a pretty hand, +A delicate and sentimental hand! +No lotion equals gloves; no woman knows +The use of them that does not sleep in them! +My neck hath kept its colour wondrously! +Well; after all it is no miracle +That I should win the heart of a young man. +My bridemaids come!--Oh dear! + +[Enter two Ladies.] + +_First Lady_. How do you, love? A good morning to you--Poor dear, +How much you are affected! Why we thought +You ne'er would summon us. + +_W. Green_. One takes, you know, +When one is flurried, twice the time to dress. +My dears, has either of you salts? I thank you! +They are excellent; the virtue's gone from mine, +Nor thought I of renewing them--Indeed, +I'm unprovided, quite, for this affair. + +_First Lady_. I think the bridegroom's come! + +_W. Green_. Don't say so! How +You've made my heart jump! + +_First Lady_. As you sent for us, +A new-launched carriage drove up to the door; +The servants all in favours. + +_W. Green_. 'Pon my life, +I never shall get through it; lend me your hand. + +[Half rises, and throws herself back on her chair again.] + +I must sit down again! There came just now +A feeling like to swooning over me. +I am sure before 'tis over I shall make +A fool of myself! I vow I thought not half +So much of my first wedding-day! I'll make +An effort. Let me lean upon your arm, +And give me yours, my dear. Amelia, mind +Keep near me with the smelling-bottle. + +_Servant_. [Entering.] Madam, +The bridegroom's come. + +[Goes out.] + +_W. Green_. The brute has knocked me down! +To bolt it out so! I had started less +If he had fired a cannon at my ear. +How shall I ever manage to hold up +Till all is done! I'm tremor head to foot. +You can excuse me, can't you?--Pity me! +One may feel queer upon one's wedding-day. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE THE LAST.--A Drawing-room. + + +[Enter Servants, showing in SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE, CONSTANCE, and MASTER +WILDRAKE--Servants go out again.] + +_Sir Wil_. [Aside to WILDRAKE.] Good Master Wildrake, look more +cheerfully!--Come, +You do not honour to my wedding-day. +How brisk am I! My body moves on springs! +My stature gives no inch I throw away; +My supple joints play free and sportfully; +I'm every atom what a man should be. + +_Wild_. I pray you pardon me, Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. Smile, then, +And talk and rally me! I did expect, +Ere half an hour had passed, you would have put me +A dozen times to the blush. Without such things, +A bridegroom knows not his own wedding-day. +I see! Her looks are glossary to thine, +She flouts thee still, I marvel not at thee; +There's thunder in that cloud! I would to-day +It would disperse, and gather in the morning. +I fear me much thou know'st not how to woo. +I'll give thee a lesson. Ever there's a way, +But knows one how to take it? Twenty men +Have courted Widow Green. Who has her now? +I sent to advertise her that to-day +I meant to marry her. She wouldn't open +My note. And gave I up? I took the way +To make her love me! I did send, again +To pray her leave my daughter should be bridemaid. +That letter too came back. Did I give up? +I took the way to make her love me! Yet, +Again I sent to ask what church she chose +To marry at; my note came back again; +And did I yet give up? I took the way +To make her love me! All the while I found +She was preparing for the wedding. Take +A hint from me! She comes! My fluttering heart +Gives note the empress of its realms is near. +Now, Master Wildrake, mark and learn from me +How it behoves a bridegroom play his part. + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, supported by her Bridemaids, and followed by AMELIA.] + +_W. Green_. I cannot raise my eyes--they cannot bear +The beams of his, which, like the sun's, I feel +Are on me, though I see them not enlightening +The heaven of his young face; nor dare I scan +The brightness of his form, which symmetry +And youth and beauty in enriching vie. +He kneels to me! Now grows my breathing thick, +As though I did await a seraph's voice, +Too rich for mortal ear. + +_Sir Wil_. My gentle bride! + +_W. Green_. Who's that! who speaks to me? + +_Sir Wil_. These transports check. +Lo, an example to mankind I set +Of amorous emprise; and who should thrive +In love, if not Love's soldier, who doth press +The doubtful siege, and will not own repulse. +Lo, here I tender thee my fealty, +To live thy duteous slave. My queen thou art, +In frowns or smiles, to give me life or death. +Oh, deign look down upon me! In thy face +Alone I look on day; it is my sun +Most bright; the which denied, no sun doth rise. +Shine out upon me, my divinity! +My gentle Widow Green! My wife to be; +My love, my life, my drooping, blushing bride! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove, you're a fool! + +_Sir Wil_. A fool! + +_W. Green_. Why come you hither, sir, in trim like this? +Or rather why at all? + +_Sir Wil_. Why come I hither? +To marry thee! + +_W. Green_. The man will drive me mad! +Sir William Fondlove, I'm but forty, sir, +And you are sixty, seventy, if a day; +At least you look it, sir. I marry you! +When did a woman wed her grandfather? + +_Sir Wil_. Her brain is turned! + +_W. Green_. You're in your dotage, sir, +And yet a boy in vanity! But know +Yourself from me; you are old and ugly, sir. + +_Sir Wil_. Do you deny you are in love with me? + +_W. Green_. In love with thee! + +_Sir Wil_. That you are jealous of me? + +_W. Green_. Jealous! + +_Sir Wil_. To very lunacy. + +_W. Green_. To hear him! + +_Sir Wil_. Do you forget what happened yesterday? + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove!-- + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green, fair play!-- +Are you not laughing? Is it not a jest? +Do you believe me seventy to a day? +Do I look it? Am I old and ugly? Why, +Why do I see those favours in the hall, +These ladies dressed as bridemaids, thee as bride, +Unless to marry me? + +[Knock.] + +_W. Green_. He is coming, sir, +Shall answer you for me! + +[Enter WALLER, with Gentlemen as Bridemen.] + +_Wal_. Where is she? What! +All that bespeaks the day, except the fair +That's queen of it? Most kind of you to grace +My nuptials so! But that I render you +My thanks in full, make full my happiness, +And tell me where's my bride? + +_W. Green_. She's here. + +_Wal_. Where? + +_W. Green_. Here, +Fair Master Waller! + +_Wal_. Lady, do not mock me. + +_W. Green_. Mock thee! My heart is stranger to such mood, +'Tis serious tenderness and duty all. +I pray you mock not me, for I do strive +With fears and soft emotions that require +Support. Take not away my little strength, +And leave me at the mercy of a feather. +I am thy bride! If 'tis thy happiness +To think me so, believe it, and be rich +To thy most boundless wishes! Master Waller, +I am thy waiting bride, the Widow Green! + +_Wal_. Lady, no widow is the bride I seek, +But one the church has never given yet +The nuptial blessing to! + +_W. Green_. What mean you, sir? +Why come a bridegroom here, if not to me +You sued to be your bride? Is this your hand, sir? [Showing letter.] + +_Wal_. It is, addressed to your fair waiting-maid. + +_W. Green_. My waiting-maid! The laugh is passing round, +And now the turn is yours, sir. She is gone! +Eloped! run off! and with the gentleman +That brought your billet-doux. + +_Wal_. Is Trueworth false? +He must be false. What madness tempted me +To trust him with such audience as I knew +Must sense, and mind, and soul of man entrance, +And leave him but the power to feel its spell! +Of his own lesson he would profit take, +And plead at once an honourable love, +Supplanting mine, less pure, reformed too late! +And if he did, what merit I, except +To lose the maid I would have wrongly won; +And, had I rightly prized her, now had worn! +I get but my deservings! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH, leading in LYDIA, richly dressed, and veiled front head +to foot.] + +Master Trueworth, +Though for thy treachery thou hast excuse, +Thou must account for it; so much I lose! +Sir, you have wronged me to amount beyond +Acres, and gold, and life, which makes them rich. +And compensation I demand of you, +Such as a man expects, and none but one +That's less than man refuses! Where's the maid +You falsely did abstract? + +_True_. I took her hence, +But not by guile, nor yet enforcement, sir; +But of her free will, knowing what she did. +That, as I found, I cannot give her back, +I own her state is changed, but in her place +This maid I offer you, her image far +As feature, form, complexion, nature go! +Resemblance halting, only there, where thou +Thyself didst pause, condition, for this maid +Is gently born and generously bred. +Lo! for your fair loss, fair equivalent! + +_Wal_. Show me another sun, another earth +I can inherit, as this Sun and Earth; +As thou didst take the maid, the maid herself +Give back! herself, her sole equivalent! + +_True_. Her sole equivalent I offer you! +My sister, sir, long counted lost, now found, +Who fled her home unwelcome bands to 'scape, +Which a half-father would have forced upon her, +Taking advantage of her brother's absence +Away on travel in a distant land! +Returned, I missed her; of the cause received +Invention, coward, false and criminating! +And gave her up for lost; but happily +Did find her yesterday--Behold her, sir! + +[Removes veil.] + +_Wal_. Lydia! + +_W. Green_. My waiting-maid! + +_Wal_. Thy sister, Trueworth! +Art thou fit brother to this virtuous maid? + +_True_. [Giving LYDIA to WALLER.] Let this assure thee. + +_Lydia_. [To WIDOW GREEN.] Madam, pardon me +My double character, for honesty, +No other end assumed--and my concealment +Of Master Waller's love. In all things else +I trust I may believe you hold me blameless; +At least, I'll say for you, I should be so, +For it was pastime, madam, not a task, +To wait upon you! Little you exacted, +And ever made the most of what I did +In mere obedience to you! + +_W. Green_. Give me your hand; +No love without a little roguery. +If you do play the mistress well as maid, +You will bear off the bell! There never was +A better girl!--I have made myself a fool. +I am undone, if goes the news abroad. +My wedding dress I donned for no effect +Except to put it off! I must be married. +I'm a lost woman, if another day +I go without a husband!--What a sight +He looks by Master Waller!--Yet he is physic +I die without, so needs must gulp it down. +I'll swallow him with what good grace I can. +Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. I own +I have been rude to you. Thou dost not look +So old by thirty, forty, years as I +Did say. Thou'rt far from ugly--very far! +And as I said, Sir William, once before, +Thou art a kind and right good-humoured man: +I was but angry with you! Why, I'll tell you +At more convenient season--and you know +An angry woman heeds not what she says, +And will say anything! + +_Sir Wil_. I were unworthy +The name of man, if an apology +So gracious came off profitless, and from +A lady! Will you take me, Widow Green? + +_W. Green_. Hem! [Curtsies.] + +_True_. [To WILDRAKE.] Master Wildrake dressed to go to church! +She has acknowledged, then, she loves thee?--No? +Give me thy hand, I'll lead thee up to her. + +_Wild_. 'Sdeath! what are you about? You know her not. +She'll brain thee! + +_True_. Fear not: come along with me. +Fair Mistress Constance! + +_Con_. Well, sir! + +_Wild_. [To TRUEWORTH.] Mind! + +_True_. Don't fear. +Love you not neighbour Wildrake? + +_Con_. Love, sir? + +_True_. Yes, +You do. + +_Con_. He loves another, sir, he does! +I hate him. We were children, sir, together +For fifteen years and more; there never came +The day we did not quarrel, make it up, +Quarrel again, and make it up again: +Were never neighbours more like neighbours, sir. +Since he became a man, and I a woman, +It still has been the same; nor cared I ever +To give a frown to any other, sir. +And now to come and tell me he's in love, +And ask me to be bridemaid to his bride! +How durst he do it, sir!--To fall in love! +Methinks at least he might have asked my leave, +Nor had I wondered had he asked myself, sir! + +_Wild_. Then give thyself to me! + +_Con_. How! what! + +_Wild_. Be mine, +Thou art the only maid thy neighbour loves. + +_Con_. Art serious, neighbour Wildrake? + +_Wild_. In the church +I'll answer thee, if thou wilt take me; though +I neither dress, nor walk, nor dance, nor know +"The Widow Jones" from an Italian, French, +Or German air. + +_Con_. No more of that.--My hand. + +_Wild_. Givest it as free as thou didst yesterday? + +_Con_. [Affecting to strike him.] Nay! + +_Wild_. I will thank it, give it how thou wilt. + +_W. Green_. A triple wedding! May the Widow Green +Obtain brief hearing e'er she quits the scene, +The Love-Chase to your kindness to commend +In favour of an old, now absent, friend! + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE-CHASE *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Love-Chase</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: James Sheridan Knowles</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Henry Morley</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 1, 2001 [eBook #3539]<br /> +[Most recently updated: September 26, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE-CHASE ***</div> + +<h1>THE LOVE-CHASE.</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES</p> +<p style="text-align: center">CASSELL & COMPANY, <span +class="smcap">Limited</span>:<br /> +<i><span class="smcap">london</span></i>, <i><span +class="smcap">paris</span></i>, <i><span class="smcap">new york & +melbourne</span></i>.<br /> +1887.</p> +<h2>THE LOVE-CHASE.</h2> +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h3> +<p>(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT THE HAYMARKET, IN l837.)</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Sir William Fondlove</i>, an old Baronet</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Strickland</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Waller</i>, in love with Lydia</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Elton</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Wildrake</i>, a Sportsman</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Webster</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Trueworth</i>, a Friend of Sir William</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr <span class="smcap">Hemmings</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Neville</i>, Friend to Waller</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Worrell</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Humphreys</i>, Friend to Waller</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Hutchings</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Lash</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Ross</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Chargewell</i>, a Landlord</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Edwards</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>George</i>, a Waiter</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Bishop</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>First Lawyer</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Ray</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Widow Green</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Glover</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Constance</i>, Daughter to Sir William Fondlove</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Nisbett</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Lydia</i>, lady’s Maid to Widow Green</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Miss <span class="smcap">Vandenhoff</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Alice</i>, Housekeeper to Master Waller</p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Tayleure</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Phœbe</i>, Maid to Constance</p> +</td> +<td> +<p> Miss <span class="smcap">Wrighten</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>Amelia</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Miss <span class="smcap">Gallot</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> +<p><i>First Lady</i></p> +</td> +<td> +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gallot</span>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>SCENE—LONDON.</p> +<h2>ACT I.</h2> +<h3>SCENE I.—The Lobby of an Inn.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Chargewell</span>, hurriedly.]</p> +<p><i>Charg</i>. What, hoa there! Hoa, sirrahs! More +wine! Are the knaves asleep? Let not our guests cool, or we +shall starve the till! Good waiting, more than viands and wine, doth +help to make the inn!—George!—Richard!—Ralph!—Where +are you?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">George</span>.]</p> +<p><i>George</i>. Here am I, sir!</p> +<p><i>Charg</i>. Have you taken in more wine to that company?</p> +<p><i>George</i>. Yes, sir.</p> +<p><i>Charg</i>. That’s right. Serve them as quick as +they order! A fair company! I have seen them here before. +Take care they come again. A choice company! That Master +Waller, I hear, is a fine spirit—leads the town. Pay him much +duty. A deep purse, and easy strings.</p> +<p><i>George</i>. And there is another, sir;—a capital +gentleman, though from the country. A gentleman most learned in dogs +and horses! He doth talk wondrous edification:—one Master +Wildrake. I wish you could hear him, sir.</p> +<p><i>Charg</i>. Well, well!—attend to them. Let them not +cool o’er the liquor, or their calls will grow slack. Keep +feeding the fire while it blazes, and the blaze will continue. Look +to it well!</p> +<p><i>George</i>. I will, sir.</p> +<p><i>Charg</i>. And be careful, above all, that you please Master +Waller. He is a guest worth pleasing. He is a gentleman. +Free order, quick pay!</p> +<p><i>George</i>. And such, I’ll dare be sworn, is the +other. A man of mighty stores of knowledge—most learned in dogs +and horses! Never was I so edified by the discourse of mortal +man.</p> +<p>[They go out severally.]</p> +<h3>SCENE II.—A Room.</h3> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Master Waller</span>, <span class="smcap">Master +Wildrake</span>, <span class="smcap">Master Trueworth</span>, <span +class="smcap">Master Neville</span>, and <span class="smcap">Master +Humphreys</span>, sitting round a table.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Well, Master Wildrake, speak you of the chase!<br /> +To hear you one doth feel the bounding steed;<br /> +You bring the hounds and game, and all to view—<br /> +All scudding to the jovial huntsman’s cheer!<br /> +And yet I pity the poor crownéd deer,<br /> +And always fancy ’tis by fortune’s spite,<br /> +That lordly head of his, he bears so high—<br /> +Like Virtue, stately in calamity,<br /> +And hunted by the human, worldly hound—<br /> +Is made to fly before the pack, that straight<br /> +Burst into song at prospect of his death.<br /> +You say their cry is harmony; and yet<br /> +The chorus scarce is music to my ear,<br /> +When I bethink me what it sounds to his;<br /> +Nor deem I sweet the note that rings the knell<br /> +Of the once merry forester!</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. The same things<br /> +Please us or pain, according to the thought<br /> +We take of them. Some smile at their own death,<br /> +Which most do shrink from, as beast of prey<br /> +It kills to look upon. But you, who take<br /> +Such pity of the deer, whence follows it<br /> +You hunt more costly game?—the comely maid,<br /> +To wit, that waits on buxom Widow Green?</p> +<p><i>Hum</i>. The comely maid! Such term not half the sum<br /> +Of her rich beauty gives! Were rule to go<br /> +By loveliness, I knew not in the court,<br /> +Or city, lady might not fitly serve<br /> +That lady serving-maid!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Come! your defence?<br /> +Why show you ruth where there’s least argument,<br /> +Deny it where there’s most? You will not plead?<br /> +Oh, Master Waller, where we use to hunt<br /> +We think the sport no crime!</p> +<p><i>Hum</i>. I give you joy,<br /> +You prosper in your chase.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Not so! The maid<br /> +In simple honesty I must pronounce<br /> +A miracle of virtue, well as beauty.</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. And well do I believe you, Master Waller;<br /> +Those know I who have ventured gift and promise<br /> +But for a minute of her ear—the boon<br /> +Of a poor dozen words spoke through a chink—<br /> +And come off bootless, save the haughty scorn<br /> +That cast their bounties back to them again.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. That warrants her what Master Waller speaks her.<br /> +Is she so very fair?</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. Yes, Master Trueworth;<br /> +And I believe indeed an honest maid:<br /> +But Love’s the coin to market with for love,<br /> +And that knows Master Waller. On pretence<br /> +Of sneaking kindness for gay Widow Green,<br /> +He visits her, for sake of her fair maid!<br /> +To whom a glance or word avails to hint<br /> +His proper errand; and—as glimpses only<br /> +Do only serve to whet the wish to see—<br /> +Awakens interest to hear the tale<br /> +So stintingly that’s told. I know his practice—<br /> +Luck to you, Master Waller! If you win,<br /> +You merit it, who take the way to win!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Good Master Neville!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I should laugh to see<br /> +The poacher snared!—the maid, for mistress sought,<br /> +Turn out a wife.</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. How say you, Master Waller?<br /> +Things quite as strange have fallen!</p> + +<p><i>Wal</i>. Impossible!</p> + +<p><i>True</i>. Impossible! Most possible of things—<br /> +If thou’rt in love! Where merit lies itself,<br /> +What matters it to want the name, which weighed,<br /> +Is not the worth of so much breath as it takes<br /> +To utter it! If, but from Nature’s hand,<br /> +She is all you could expect of gentle blood,<br /> +Face, form, mien, speech; with these, what to belong<br /> +To lady more behoves—thoughts delicate,<br /> +Affections generous, and modesty—<br /> +Perfectionating, brightening crown of all!—<br /> +If she hath these—true titles to thy heart—<br /> +What does she lack that’s title to thy hand?<br /> +The name of lady, which is none of these,<br /> +But may belong without? Thou mightst do worse<br /> +Than marry her. Thou wouldst, undoing her,<br /> +Yea, by my mother’s name, a shameful act<br /> +Most shamefully performed!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Starting up and drawing.] Sir!</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. [And the others, interposing.] Gentlemen!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. All’s right! Sit down!—I will not +draw again.<br /> +A word with you: If—as a man—thou sayest,<br /> +Upon thy honour, I have spoken wrong,<br /> +I’ll ask thy pardon!—though I never hold<br /> +Communion with thee more!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [After a pause, putting up his sword.]<br /> +My sword is sheathed!<br /> +Wilt let me take thy hand?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. ’Tis thine, good sir,<br /> +And faster than before—A fault confessed<br /> +Is a new virtue added to a man!<br /> +Yet let me own some blame was mine. A truth<br /> +May be too harshly told—but ’tis a theme<br /> +I am tender on—I had a sister, sir,<br /> +You understand me!—’Twas my happiness<br /> +To own her once—I would forget her now!—<br /> +I have forgotten!—I know not if she lives!—<br /> +Things of such strain as we were speaking of,<br /> +Spite of myself, remind me of her!—So!—</p> +<p><i>Nev</i>. Sit down! Let’s have more wine.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Not so, good sirs.<br /> +Partaking of your hospitality,<br /> +I have overlooked good friends I came to visit,<br /> +And who have late become sojourners here—<br /> +Old country friends and neighbours, and with whom<br /> +I e’en take up my quarters. Master Trueworth,<br /> +Bear witness for me.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. It is even so.<br /> +Sir William Fondlove and his charming daughter.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Ay, neighbour Constance. Charming, does he +say?<br /> +Yes, neighbour Constance is a charming girl<br /> +To those that do not know her. If she plies me<br /> +As hard as was her custom in the country,<br /> +I should not wonder though, this very day,<br /> +I seek the home I quitted for a month! [Aside.]</p> +<p>Good even, gentlemen.</p> +<p><i>Hum</i>. Nay, if you go,<br /> +We all break up, and sally forth together.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Be it so—Your hand again, good Master +Trueworth!<br /> +I am sorry I did pain you.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. It is thine, sir.</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE III.—Sir William Fondlove’s House.—A Room.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Sir William Fondlove</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. At sixty-two, to be in leading-strings,<br /> +Is an old child—and with a daughter, too!<br /> +Her mother held me ne’er in check so strait<br /> +As she. I must not go but where she likes,<br /> +Nor see but whom she likes, do anything<br /> +But what she likes!—A slut bare twenty-one!<br /> +Nor minces she commands! A brigadier<br /> +More coolly doth not give his orders out<br /> +Than she! Her waiting-maid is aide-de-camp;<br /> +My steward adjutant; my lacqueys serjeants;<br /> +That bring me her high pleasure how I march<br /> +And counter-march—when I’m on duty—when<br /> +I’m off—when suits it not to tell it me<br /> +Herself—“Sir William, thus my mistress says!”<br /> +As saying it were enough—no will of mine<br /> +Consulted! I will marry. Must I serve,<br /> +Better a wife, my mistress, than a daughter!<br /> +And yet the vixen says, if I do marry,<br /> +I’ll find she’ll rule my wife, as well as me!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Trueworth</span>.]</p> +<p>Ah, Master Trueworth! Welcome, Master Trueworth!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Thanks, sir; I am glad to see you look so well!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Ah, Master Trueworth, when one turns the hill,<br /> +’Tis rapid going down! We climb by steps;<br /> +By strides we reach the bottom. Look at me,<br /> +And guess my age.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Turned fifty.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Ten years more!<br /> +How marvellously well I wear! I think<br /> +You would not flatter me!—But scan me close,<br /> +And pryingly, as one who seeks a thing<br /> +He means to find—What signs of age dost see?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. None!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. None about the corners of the eyes?<br /> +Lines that diverge like to the spider’s joists,<br /> +Whereon he builds his airy fortalice?<br /> +They call them crow’s feet—has the ugly bird<br /> +Been perching there?—Eh?—Well?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. There’s something like,<br /> +But not what one must see, unless he’s blind<br /> +Like steeple on a hill!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [After a pause.] Your eyes are good!<br /> +I am certainly a wonder for my age;<br /> +I walk as well as ever! Do I stoop?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. A plummet from your head would find your heel.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. It is my make—my make, good Master +Trueworth;<br /> +I do not study it. Do you observe<br /> +The hollow in my back? That’s natural.<br /> +As now I stand, so stood I when a child,<br /> +A rosy, chubby boy!—I am youthful to<br /> +A miracle! My arm is firm as ’twas<br /> +At twenty. Feel it!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. [Feeling <span class="smcap">Sir +William’s</span> arm.] It is deal!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Oak—oak,<br /> +Isn’t it, Master Trueworth? Thou hast known me<br /> +Ten years and upwards. Thinkest my leg is shrunk?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. No.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. No! not in the calf?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. As big a calf<br /> +As ever!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Thank you, thank you—I believe it!<br /> +When others waste, ’tis growing-time with me!<br /> +I feel it, Master Trueworth! Vigour, sir,<br /> +In every joint of me—could run!—could leap!<br /> +Why shouldn’t I marry? Knife and fork I play<br /> +Better than many a boy of twenty-five—<br /> +Why shouldn’t I marry? If they come to wine,<br /> +My brace of bottles can I carry home,<br /> +And ne’er a headache. Death! why shouldn’t I marry?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I see in nature no impediment.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Impediment? She’s all +appliances!—<br /> +And fortune’s with me, too! The Widow Green<br /> +Gives hints to me. The pleasant Widow Green<br /> +Whose fortieth year, instead of autumn, brings,<br /> +A second summer in. Odds bodikins,<br /> +How young she looks! What life is in her eyes!<br /> +What ease is in her gait!—while, as she walks,<br /> +Her waist, still tapering, takes it pliantly!<br /> +How lollingly she bears her head withal:<br /> +On this side now—now that! When enters she<br /> +A drawing-room, what worlds of gracious things<br /> +Her curtsey says!—she sinks with such a sway,<br /> +Greeting on either hand the company,<br /> +Then slowly rises to her state again!<br /> +She is the empress of the card-table!<br /> +Her hand and arm!—Gods, did you see her deal—<br /> +With curved and pliant wrist dispense the pack,<br /> +Which, at the touch of her fair fingers fly!<br /> +How soft she speaks—how very soft! Her voice<br /> +Comes melting from her round and swelling throat,<br /> +Reminding you of sweetest, mellowest things—<br /> +Plums, peaches, apricots, and nectarines—<br /> +Whose bloom is poor to paint her cheeks and lips.<br /> +By Jove, I’ll marry!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. You forget, Sir William,<br /> +I do not know the lady.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Great your loss.<br /> +By all the gods I’ll marry!—but my daughter<br /> +Must needs be married first. She rules my house;<br /> +Would rule it still, and will not have me wed.<br /> +A clever, handsome, darling, forward minx!<br /> +When I became a widower, the reins<br /> +Her mother dropped she caught,—a hoyden girl;<br /> +Nor, since, would e’er give up; howe’er I strove<br /> +To coax or catch them from her. One way still<br /> +Or t’other she would keep them—laugh, pout, plead;<br /> +Now vanquish me with water, now with fire;<br /> +Would box my face, and, ere I well could ope<br /> +My mouth to chide her, stop it with a kiss!<br /> +The monkey! What a plague she’s to me! How<br /> +I love her! how I love the Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Then marry her!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I tell thee, first of all<br /> +Must needs my daughter marry. See I not<br /> +A hope of that; she nought affects the sex:<br /> +Comes suitor after suitor—all in vain.<br /> +Fast as they bow she curtsies, and says, “Nay!”<br /> +Or she, a woman, lacks a woman’s heart,<br /> +Or hath a special taste which none can hit.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Or taste, perhaps, which is already hit.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Eh!—how?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Remember you no country friend,<br /> +Companion of her walks—her squire to church,<br /> +Her beau whenever she went visiting—<br /> +Before she came to town?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. No!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. None?—art sure?<br /> +No playmate when she was a girl?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. O! ay!<br /> +That Master Wildrake, I did pray thee go<br /> +And wait for at the inn; but had forgotten.<br /> +Is he come?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. And in the house. Some friends that met him,<br /> +As he alighted, laid strong hands upon Him,<br /> +And made him stop for dinner. We had else<br /> +Been earlier with you.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Ha! I am glad he is come.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. She may be smit with him.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. As cat with dog!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. He heard her voice as we did mount the stairs,<br /> +And darted straight to join her.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You shall see<br /> +What wondrous calm and harmony take place,<br /> +When fire meets gunpowder!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Without.] Who sent for you?<br /> +What made you come?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. [Without.] To see the town, not you! A +kiss!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I vow I’ll not.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I swear you shall.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. A saucy cub! I vow, I had as lief<br /> +Your whipper-in had kissed me.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Do you hear?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I do. Most pleasing discords!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Constance</span> and <span +class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Father, speak<br /> +To neighbour Wildrake!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Very glad to see him!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I thank you, good Sir William! Give you joy<br /> +Of your good looks!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What, +Phœbe!—Phœbe!—Phœbe!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. What wantest thou with thy lap-dog?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Only, sir,<br /> +To welcome neighbour Wildrake! What a figure<br /> +To show himself in town!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Wilt hold thy peace?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Yes; if you’ll lesson me to hold my laughter!<br /> +Wildrake.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Well?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Let me walk thee in the Park—<br /> +How they would stare at thee!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Wilt ne’er give o’er?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Nay, let her have her way—I heed her not!<br /> +Though to more courteous welcome I have right;<br /> +Although I am neighbour Wildrake! Reason is reason!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And right is right! so welcome, neighbour Wildrake,<br /> +I am very, very, very glad to see you!<br /> +Come, for a quarter of an hour we’ll e’en<br /> +Agree together! How do your horses, neighbour?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Pshaw!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And your dogs?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Pshaw!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Whipper-in and huntsman?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Converse of things thou knowest to talk about!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And keep him silent, father, when I know<br /> +He cannot talk of any other things?<br /> +How does thy hunter? What a sorry trick<br /> +He played thee t’other day, to balk his leap<br /> +And throw thee, neighbour! Did he balk the leap?<br /> +Confess! You sportsmen never are to blame!<br /> +Say you are fowlers, ’tis your dog’s in fault!<br /> +Say you are anglers, ’tis your tackle’s wrong;<br /> +Say you are hunters, why the honest horse<br /> +That bears your weight, must bear your blunders too!<br /> +Why, whither go you?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Anywhere from thee.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. With me you mean.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I mean it not.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. You do!<br /> +I’ll give you fifty reasons for’t—and first,<br /> +Where you go, neighbour, I’ll go!</p> +<p>[They go out—<span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>, +pettishly—<span class="smcap">Constance</span> laughing.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Do you mark?<br /> +Much love is there!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Indeed, a heap, or none!<br /> +I’d wager on the heap!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Ay!—Do you think<br /> +These discords, as in the musicians’ art,<br /> +Are subtle servitors to harmony?<br /> +That all this war’s for peace? This wrangling but<br /> +A masquerade where love his roguish face<br /> +Conceals beneath an ugly visor!—Well?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Your guess and my conceit are not a mile<br /> +Apart. Unlike to other common flowers,<br /> +The flower of love shews various in the bud;<br /> +’Twill look a thistle, and ’twill blow a rose!<br /> +And with your leave I’ll put it to the test;<br /> +Affect myself, for thy fair daughter, love—<br /> +Make him my confidant—dilate to him<br /> +Upon the graces of her heart and mind,<br /> +Feature and form—that well may comment bear—<br /> +Till—like the practised connoisseur, who finds<br /> +A gem of heart out in a household picture<br /> +The unskilled owner held so cheap he grudged<br /> +Renewal of the chipped and tarnished frame,<br /> +But values now as priceless—I arouse him<br /> +Into a quick sense of the worth of that<br /> +Whose merit hitherto, from lack of skill,<br /> +Or dulling habit of acquaintanceship,<br /> +He has not been awake to.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Without.] Neighbour Wildrake!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Hither they come. I fancy well thy game!<br /> +O to be free to marry Widow Green!<br /> +I’ll call her hence anon—then ply him well.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir William</span> goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. [Without.] Nay, neighbour Constance!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. He is high in storm.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span> and <span +class="smcap">Constance</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. To Lincolnshire, I tell thee.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Lincolnshire!<br /> +What, prithee, takes thee off to Lincolnshire?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Too great delight in thy fair company.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Nay, Master Wildrake, why away so soon?<br /> +You are scarce a day in town!—Extremes like this,<br /> +And starts of purpose, are the signs of love.<br /> +Though immatured as yet. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. He’s long enough<br /> +In town! What should he here? He’s lost in town:<br /> +No man is he for concerts, balls, or routs!<br /> +No game he knows at cards, save rare Pope Joan!<br /> +He ne’er could master dance beyond a jig;<br /> +And as for music, nothing to compare<br /> +To the melodious yelping of a hound,<br /> +Except the braying of his huntsman’s horn!<br /> +Ask <i>him</i> to stay in town!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [Without.] Hoa, Constance!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Sir!—<br /> +Neighbour, a pleasant ride to Lincolnshire!<br /> +Good-bye!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [Without.] Why, Constance!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Coming, sir. Shake hands!<br /> +Neighbour, good-bye! Don’t look so woe-begone;<br /> +’Tis but a two-days’ ride, and thou wilt see<br /> +Rover, and Spot, and Nettle, and the rest<br /> +Of thy dear country friends!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [Without.] Constance! I say.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Anon!—Commend me to the gentle souls,<br /> +And pat them for me!—Will you, neighbour Wildrake?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [Without.] Why, Constance! +Constance!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. In a moment, sir!<br /> +Good-bye!—I’d cry, dear neighbour—if I could!<br /> +Good-bye!—A pleasant day when next you hunt!<br /> +And, prithee, mind thy horse don’t balk his leap!<br /> +Good-bye!—and, after dinner, drink my health!<br /> +“A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!”—Do!—<br /> +And give it with a speech, wherein unfold<br /> +My many graces, more accomplishments,<br /> +And virtues topping either—in a word,<br /> +How I’m the fairest, kindest, best of neighbours!</p> +<p>[They go out severally.—<span class="smcap">Trueworth</span> +trying to pacify <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>—<span +class="smcap">Constance</span> laughing.]</p> +<h2>ACT II.</h2> +<h3>SCENE I.—A Room in Sir William’s House.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Trueworth</span> and <span +class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone!<br /> +She treats me worse and worse! I am a stock,<br /> +That words have none to pay her. For her sake<br /> +I quit the town to-day. I like a jest,<br /> +But hers are jests past bearing. I am her butt,<br /> +She nothing does but practise on! A plague!—<br /> +Fly her shafts ever your way?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Would they did!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Art mad?—or wishest she should drive thee +so?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Thou knowest her not.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I know not neighbour Constance?<br /> +Then know I not myself, or anything<br /> +Which as myself I know!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Heigh ho!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Heigh ho!<br /> +Why what a burden that for a man’s song!<br /> +Would fit a maiden that was sick for love.<br /> +Heigh ho! Come ride with me to Lincolnshire,<br /> +And turn thy “Heigh ho!” into “hilly ho!”</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Nay, rather tarry thou in town with me.<br /> +Men sometimes find a friend’s hand of avail,<br /> +When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me thine?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of +that?<br /> +I’m for the steeple—not to ride a race,<br /> +Only to get there!—nor alone, in sooth,<br /> +But in fair company.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Thou’rt not in love!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Heigh ho!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Thou wouldst not marry!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. With your help.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. And whom, I prithee?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Gentle Mistress Constance!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. What!—neighbour Constance?—Never did I +dream<br /> +That mortal man would fall in love with her. [Aside.]<br /> +In love with neighbour Constance!—I feel strange<br /> +At thought that she should marry!—[Aside.] Go to church<br /> +With neighbour Constance! That’s a steeple-chase<br /> +I never thought of. I feel very strange!<br /> +What seest in neighbour Constance?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Lovers’ eyes<br /> +See with a vision proper to themselves;<br /> +Yet thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm.<br /> +First, then, I see in her the mould express<br /> +Of woman—stature, feature, body, limb—<br /> +Breathing the gentle sex we value most,<br /> +When most ’tis at antipodes with ours!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman.<br /> +Why, yes; she is a woman, certainly.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. So much for person. Now for her complexion.<br /> +What shall we liken to her dainty skin?<br /> +Her arm, for instance?—</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Snow will match it.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Snow!<br /> +It is her arm without the smoothness on’t;<br /> +Then is not snow transparent. ’Twill not do.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. A pearl’s transparent!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. So it is, but yet<br /> +Yields not elastic to the thrilléd touch!<br /> +I know not what to liken to her arm<br /> +Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be<br /> +The chosen friend of two such neighbours!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Would<br /> +His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free<br /> +With neighbour Constance! Can’t he let her arms<br /> +Alone! I trust their chosen friend<br /> +Will ne’er be he! I’m vexed. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. But graceful things<br /> +Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use!<br /> +Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. [Snappishly.] No.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. No! Why, where have been your eyes?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. In my head!<br /> +But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Yet that’s a trifle to the dance; down which<br /> +She floats as though she were a form of air;<br /> +The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on’t;<br /> +Her movements are the painting of the strain,<br /> +Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness!<br /> +Then is she fifty Constances!—each moment<br /> +Another one, and each, except its fellow,<br /> +Without a peer! You have danced with her!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I hate<br /> +To dance! I can’t endure to dance!—Of course<br /> +You have danced with her?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I have.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You have?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I have.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I do abominate to dance!—could carve<br /> +Fiddlers and company! A dancing man<br /> +To me was ever like a dancing dog!<br /> +Save less to be endured.—Ne’er saw I one<br /> +But I bethought me of the master’s whip.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. A man might bear the whip to dance with her!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Not if I had the laying of it on!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes; make an end of it!—I’m sick of +it. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp!<br /> +How well she sings to them! Whoe’er would prove<br /> +The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing,<br /> +Especially a love-song!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Does she sing<br /> +Such songs to thee?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Oh, yes, and constantly.<br /> +For such I ever ask her.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Forward minx! [Aside.]<br /> +Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen!<br /> +Think’st neighbour Constance is a girl to love?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. A girl to love?—Ay, and with all her soul!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. How know you that?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I have studied close the sex.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You town-rakes are the devil for the sex! +[Aside.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Not your most sensitive and serious maid<br /> +I’d always take for deep impressions. Mind<br /> +The adage of the bow. The pensive brow<br /> +I have oft seen bright in wedlock, and anon<br /> +O’ercast in widowhood; then, bright again,<br /> +Ere half the season of the weeds was out;<br /> +While, in the airy one, I have known one cloud<br /> +Forerunner of a gloom that ne’er cleared up—<br /> +So would it prove with neighbour Constance. Not<br /> +On superficial grounds she’ll ever love;<br /> +But once she does, the odds are ten to one<br /> +Her first love is her last!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I wish I ne’er<br /> +Had come to town! I was a happy man<br /> +Among my dogs and horses. [Aside.] Hast thou broke<br /> +Thy passion to her?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Never.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Never?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. No.<br /> +I hoped you’d act my proxy there.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I thank you.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I knew ’twould be a pleasure to you.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes;<br /> +A pleasure!—an unutterable pleasure!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Thank you! You make my happiness your own.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I do.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I see you do. Dear Master Wildrake!<br /> +Oh, what a blessing is a friend in need!<br /> +You’ll go and court your neighbour for me?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. And says she “nay” at first, you’ll +press again?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Ay, and again!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. There’s one thing I mistrust—yea, most +mistrust,<br /> +That of my poor deserts you’ll make too much.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Fear anything but that.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. ’Twere better far<br /> +You slightly spoke of them.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You think so?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Yes.<br /> +Or rather did not speak of them at all.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You think so?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Then I’ll not say a word<br /> +About them.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Thank you! A judicious friend<br /> +Is better than a zealous: you are both!<br /> +I see you’ll plead my cause as ’twere your own;<br /> +Then stay in town, and win your neighbour for me;<br /> +Make me the envy of a score of men<br /> +That die for her as I do. Make her mine,<br /> +And when the last “Amen!” declares complete<br /> +The mystic tying of the holy knot,<br /> +And ’fore the priest a blushing wife she stands,<br /> +Be thine the right to claim the second kiss<br /> +She pays for change from maidenhood to wifehood.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Take that thyself! The first be mine, or +none!<br /> +A man in love with neighbour Constance! Never<br /> +Dreamed I that such a thing could come to pass!<br /> +Such person, such endowments, such a soul!<br /> +I never thought to ask myself before<br /> +If she were man or woman! Suitors, too,<br /> +Dying for her! I’ll e’en make one among ’em!<br /> +Woo her to go to church along with him,<br /> +And for my pains the privilege to take<br /> +The second kiss? I’ll take the second kiss,<br /> +And first one too—and last! No man shall touch<br /> +Her lips but me. I’ll massacre the man<br /> +That looks upon her! Yet what chance have I<br /> +With lovers of the town, whose study ’tis<br /> +To please your lady belles!—who dress, walk, talk,<br /> +To hit their tastes—what chance, a country squire<br /> +Like me? Yet your true fair, I have heard, prefers<br /> +The man before his coat at any time;<br /> +And such a one may neighbour Constance be.<br /> +I’ll show a limb with any of them! Silks<br /> +I’ll wear, nor keep my legs in cases more.<br /> +I’ll learn to dance town-dances, and frequent<br /> +Their concerts! Die away at melting strains,<br /> +Or seem to do so—far the easier thing,<br /> +And as effective quite; leave naught undone<br /> +To conquer neighbour Constance.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Lash</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. Sir.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Well, sir?</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. So please you, sir, your horse is at the door.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Unsaddle him again and put him up.<br /> +And, hark you, get a tailor for me, sir—<br /> +The rarest can be found.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. The man’s below, sir,<br /> +That owns the mare your worship thought to buy.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Tell him I do not want her, sir.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. I vow<br /> +You will not find her like in Lincolnshire.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Go to! She’s spavined.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. Sir!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Touched in the wind.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. I trust my master be not touched in the head!<br /> +I vow, a faultless beast! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I want her not,<br /> +And that’s your answer. Go to the hosier’s, sir,<br /> +And bid him send me samples of his gear,<br /> +Of twenty different kinds.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. I will, sir.—Sir!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Well, sir.</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. Squire Brush’s huntsman’s here, and +says<br /> +His master’s kennel is for sale.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. The dogs<br /> +Are only fit for hanging!—</p> +<p><i>Lash</i>. Finer bred—</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Sirrah, if more to me thou talkest of dogs,<br /> +Horses, or aught that to thy craft belongs,<br /> +Thou mayst go hang for me!—A cordwainer<br /> +Go fetch me straight—the choicest in the town.<br /> +Away, sir! Do thy errands smart and well<br /> +As thou canst crack thy whip! [<span class="smcap">Lash</span> goes +out.]<br /> +Dear neighbour Constance,<br /> +I’ll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE II.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Widow Green</span> and <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller +calls,<br /> +I shall be in at three; and say the same<br /> +To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet!—<br /> +What progress, think you, make I in the heart<br /> +Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl,<br /> +It is a heart to win and man as well!<br /> +How speed I, think you? Didst, as I desired,<br /> +Detain him in my absence when he called,<br /> +And, without seeming, sound him touching me?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. And effects he me, or not? How guess +you?<br /> +What said he of me? Looked he balked, or not,<br /> +To find me not at home? Inquired he when<br /> +I would be back, as much he longed to see me?<br /> +What did he—said he? Come!—Is he in love,<br /> +Or like to fall into it? Goes well my game,<br /> +Or shall I have my labour for my pains?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I think he is in love.—O poor evasion!<br /> +O to love truth, and yet not dare to speak it! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. You think he is in love—I’m sure of +it.<br /> +As well have asked you has he eyes and ears,<br /> +And brain and heart to use them? Maids do throw<br /> +Trick after trick away, but widows know<br /> +To play their cards! How am I looking, Lydia?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. E’en as you ever look.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Handsome, my girl?<br /> +Eh? Clear in my complexion? Eh?—brimful<br /> +Of spirits? not too much of me, nor yet<br /> +Too little?—Eh?—A woman worth a man?<br /> +Look at me, Lydia! Would you credit, girl,<br /> +I was a scarecrow before marriage?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Nay!—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Girl, but I tell thee “yea.” +That gown of thine—<br /> +And thou art slender—would have hung about me!<br /> +There’s something of me now! good sooth, enough!<br /> +Lydia, I’m quite contented with myself;<br /> +I’m just the thing, methinks, a widow should be.<br /> +So, Master Waller, you believe, affects me?<br /> +But, Lydia, not enough to hook the fish;<br /> +To prove the angler’s skill, it must be caught;<br /> +And lovers, Lydia, like the angler’s prey—<br /> +Which, when he draws it near the landing-place,<br /> +Takes warning and runs out the slender line,<br /> +And with a spring perchance jerks off the hold—<br /> +When we do fish for them, and hook, and think<br /> +They are all but in the creel, will make the dart<br /> +That sets them free to roam the flood again!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Is’t so?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Thou’lt find it so, or better luck<br /> +Than many another maid! Now mark me, Lydia:<br /> +Sir William Fondlove fancies me. ’Tis well!<br /> +I do not fancy him! What should I do<br /> +With an old man?—Attend upon the gout,<br /> +Or the rheumatics! Wrap me in the cloud<br /> +Of a darkened chamber—’stead of shining out,<br /> +The sun of balls, and routs, and gala-days!<br /> +But he affects me, Lydia; so he may!<br /> +Now take a lesson from me—Jealousy<br /> +Had better go with open, naked breast,<br /> +Than pin or button with a gem. Less plague,<br /> +The plague-spot; that doth speedy make an end<br /> +One way or t’other, girl. Yet, never love<br /> +Was warm without a spice of jealousy.<br /> +Thy lesson now—Sir William Fondlove’s rich,<br /> +And riches, though they’re paste, yet being many,<br /> +The jewel love we often cast away for.<br /> +I use him but for Master Waller’s sake.<br /> +Dost like my policy?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. You will not chide me?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Nay, Lydia, I do like to hear thy thoughts,<br /> +They are such novel things—plants that do thrive<br /> +With country air! I marvel still they flower,<br /> +And thou so long in town! Speak freely, girl!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I cannot think love thrives by artifice,<br /> +Or can disguise its mood, and show its face.<br /> +I would not hide one portion of my heart<br /> +Where I did give it and did feel ’twas right,<br /> +Nor feign a wish, to mask a wish that was,<br /> +Howe’er to keep it. For no cause except<br /> +Myself would I be loved. What were’t to me,<br /> +My lover valued me the more, the more<br /> +He saw me comely in another’s eyes,<br /> +When his alone the vision I would show<br /> +Becoming to? I have sought the reason oft,<br /> +They paint Love as a child, and still have thought,<br /> +It was because true love, like infancy,<br /> +Frank, trusting, unobservant of its mood,<br /> +Doth show its wish at once, and means no more!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Thou’lt find out better when thy time doth +come.<br /> +Now wouldst believe I love not Master Waller?<br /> +I never knew what love was, Lydia;<br /> +That is, as your romances have it. First,<br /> +I married for a fortune. Having that,<br /> +And being freed from him that brought it me,<br /> +I marry now, to please my vanity,<br /> +A man that is the fashion. O the delight<br /> +Of a sensation, and yourself the cause!<br /> +To note the stir of eyes, and ears, and tongues,<br /> +When they do usher Mistress Waller in,<br /> +Late Widow Green, her hand upon the arm<br /> +Of her young, handsome husband!—How my fan<br /> +Will be in requisition—I do feel<br /> +My heart begin to flutter now—my blood<br /> +To mount into my cheek! My honeymoon<br /> +Will be a month of triumphs!—“Mistress Waller!”<br /> +That name, for which a score of damsels sigh,<br /> +And but the widow had the wit to win!<br /> +Why, it will be the talk of east to west,<br /> +And north and south!—The children loved the man,<br /> +And lost him so—I liked, but there I stopped;<br /> +For what is it to love, but mind and heart<br /> +And soul upon another to depend?<br /> +Depend upon another? Nothing be<br /> +But what another wills? Give up the rights<br /> +Of mine own brain and heart? I thank my stars<br /> +I never came to that extremity.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. She never loved, indeed! She knows not +love,<br /> +Except what’s told of it! She never felt it.<br /> +To stem a torrent, easy, looking at it;<br /> +But once you venture in, you nothing know<br /> +Except the speed with which you’re borne away,<br /> +Howe’er you strive to check it. She suspects not<br /> +Her maid, not she, brings Master Waller hither.<br /> +Nor dare I undeceive her. Well might she say<br /> +Her young and handsome husband! Yet his face<br /> +And person are the least of him, and vanish<br /> +When shines his soul out through his open eye!<br /> +He all but says he loves me! His respect<br /> +Has vanquished me! He looks the will to speak<br /> +His passion, and the fear that ties his tongue—<br /> +The fear? He loves not honestly, and yet<br /> +I’ll swear he loves—I’ll swear he honours me!<br /> +It is but my condition is a bar,<br /> +Denies him give me all. But knew he me<br /> +As I do know myself! Whate’er his purpose,<br /> +When next we speak, he shall declare it to me.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE III.—Sir William Fondlove’s.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Constance</span>, dressed for riding, and +<span class="smcap">Phœbe</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Well, Phœbe, would you know me? Are those +locks<br /> +That cluster on my forehead and my cheek,<br /> +Sufficient mask? Show I what I would seem,<br /> +A lady for the chase? My darkened brows<br /> +And heightened colour, foreign to my face,<br /> +Do they my face pass off for stranger too?<br /> +What think you?</p> +<p><i>Phœbe</i>. That he’ll ne’er discover you.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants<br /> +To speak with him, unless indeed it be<br /> +A man in lady’s gear; I look so bold<br /> +And speak so gruff. Away! [<span +class="smcap">Phœbe</span> goes out.] That I am glad<br /> +He stays in town, I own, but if I am,<br /> +’Tis only for the tricks I’ll play upon him,<br /> +And now begin, persuading him his fame<br /> +Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither<br /> +On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot!<br /> +<i>This</i> he? Why, what has metamorphosed him,<br /> +And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman?<br /> +Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder,<br /> +Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air<br /> +The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. My veiléd face denies me justice, sir,<br /> +Else would you see a maiden’s blushing cheek<br /> +Do penance for her forwardness; too late,<br /> +I own, repented of. Yet if ’tis true,<br /> +By our own hearts of others we may judge,<br /> +Mine in no peril lies that’s shown to you,<br /> +Whose heart, I’m sure, is noble. Worthy sir,<br /> +Souls attract souls when they’re of kindred vein.<br /> +The life that you love, I love. Well I know,<br /> +’Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase,<br /> +You stand without a peer; and for myself<br /> +I dare avow ’mong such, none follows them<br /> +With heartier glee than I do.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Churl were he<br /> +That would gainsay you, madam.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Curtseying.] What delight<br /> +To back the flying steed, that challenges<br /> +The wind for speed!—seems native more of air<br /> +Than earth!—whose burden only lends him fire!—<br /> +Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport;<br /> +Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now!<br /> +He takes away my breath! He makes me reel!<br /> +I touch not earth—I see not—hear not. All<br /> +Is ecstasy of motion!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You are used,<br /> +I see, to the chase.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I am, sir. Then the leap,<br /> +To see the saucy barrier, and know<br /> +The mettle that can clear it! Then, your time<br /> +To prove you master of the manège. Now<br /> +You keep him well together for a space,<br /> +Both horse and rider braced as you were one,<br /> +Scanning the distance—then you give him rein,<br /> +And let him fly at it, and o’er he goes<br /> +Light as a bird on wing.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. ’Twere a bold leap,<br /> +I see, that turned you, madam.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Curtseying.] Sir, you’re good!<br /> +And then the hounds, sir! Nothing I admire<br /> +Beyond the running of the well-trained pack.<br /> +The training’s everything! Keen on the scent!<br /> +At fault none losing heart!—but all at work!<br /> +None leaving his task to another!—answering<br /> +The watchful huntsman’s cautions, check, or cheer.<br /> +As steed his rider’s rein! Away they go!<br /> +How close they keep together! What a pack!<br /> +Nor turn, nor ditch, nor stream divides them—as<br /> +They moved with one intelligence, act, will!<br /> +And then the concert they keep up!—enough<br /> +To make one tenant of the merry wood,<br /> +To list their jocund music!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You describe<br /> +The huntsman’s pastime to the life.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I love it!<br /> +To wood and glen, hamlet and town, it is<br /> +A laughing holiday! Not a hill-top<br /> +But’s then alive! Footmen with horsemen vie,<br /> +All earth’s astir, roused with the revelry<br /> +Of vigour, health, and joy! Cheer awakes cheer,<br /> +While Echo’s mimic tongue, that never tires,<br /> +Keeps up the hearty din! Each face is then<br /> +Its neighbour’s glass—where Gladness sees itself,<br /> +And at the bright reflection grows more glad!<br /> +Breaks into tenfold mirth!—laughs like a child!<br /> +Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free!<br /> +Would scarce accept a kingdom, ’tis so rich!<br /> +Shakes hands with all, and vows it never knew<br /> +That life was life before!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Nay, every way<br /> +You do fair justice, lady, to the chase;<br /> +But fancies change.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Such fancy is not mine.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I would it were not mine, for your fair sake.<br /> +I have quite given o’er the chase.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. You say not so!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Forsworn, indeed, the sportsman’s life, and +grown,<br /> +As you may partly see, town-gentleman.<br /> +I care not now to mount a steed, unless<br /> +To amble ’long the street; no paces mind,<br /> +Except my own, to walk the drawing-room,<br /> +Or in the ball-room to come off with grace;<br /> +No leap for me, to match the light coupé;<br /> +No music like the violin and harp,<br /> +To which the huntsman’s dog and horn I find<br /> +Are somewhat coarse and homely minstrelsy:<br /> +Then fields of ill-dressed rustics, you’ll confess,<br /> +Are well exchanged for rooms of beaux and belles;<br /> +In short, I’ve ta’en another thought of life—<br /> +Become another man!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. The cause, I pray?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. The cause of causes, lady.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. He’s in love! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. To you, of women, I would name it last;<br /> +Yet your frank bearing merits like return;<br /> +I, that did hunt the game, am caught myself<br /> +In chase I never dreamed of!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. He is in love!<br /> +Wildrake’s in love! ’Tis that keeps him in town,<br /> +Turns him from sportsman to town-gentleman.<br /> +I never dreamed that he could be in love!<br /> +In love with whom?—I’ll find the vixen out!<br /> +What right has she to set her cap at him?<br /> +I warrant me, a forward, artful minx;<br /> +I hate him worse than ever. I’ll do all<br /> +I can to spoil the match. He’ll never marry—<br /> +Sure he will never marry! He will have<br /> +More sense than that! My back doth ope and shut—<br /> +My temples throb and shoot—I am cold and hot!<br /> +Were he to marry, there would be an end<br /> +To neighbour Constance—neighbour Wildrake—why,<br /> +I should not know myself!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Trueworth</span>.]</p> +<p>Dear Master Trueworth,<br /> +What think you!—neighbour Wildrake is in love!<br /> +In love! Would you believe it, Master Trueworth?<br /> +Ne’er heed my dress and looks, but answer me.<br /> +Knowest thou of any lady he has seen<br /> +That’s like to cozen him?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I am not sure—<br /> +We talked to-day about the Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Her that my father fancies. Let him wed her!<br /> +Marry her to-morrow—if he will, to-night.<br /> +I can’t spare neighbour Wildrake—neighbour Wildrake!<br /> +Although I would not marry him myself,<br /> +I could not hear that other married him!<br /> +Go to my father—’tis a proper match!<br /> +He has my leave! He’s welcome to bring home<br /> +The Widow Green. I’ll give up house and all!<br /> +She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake;<br /> +He would wear out her patience—plague her to death,<br /> +As he does me. She must not marry him!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h2>ACT III.</h2> +<h3>SCENE I.—A Room in Widow Green’s.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Waller</span>, following <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia.<br /> +Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself!<br /> +Thy own perfections ’tis that talk to thee.<br /> +Thy beauty rich!—thy richer grace!—thy mind,<br /> +More rich again than that, though richest each!<br /> +Except for these, I had no tongue for thee,<br /> +Eyes for thee!—ears!—had never followed thee!—<br /> +Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me!—</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Love<br /> +Should seek its match. No match am I for thee.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Right! Love should seek its match; and that is, +love<br /> +Or nothing! Station—fortune—find their match<br /> +In things resembling them. They are not love!<br /> +Comes love (that subtle essence, without which<br /> +Life were but leaden dulness!—weariness!<br /> +A plodding trudger on a heavy road!)<br /> +Comes it of title-deeds which fools may boast?<br /> +Or coffers vilest hands may hold the keys of?<br /> +Or that ethereal lamp that lights the eyes<br /> +To shed the sparkling lustre o’er the face,<br /> +Gives to the velvet skin its blushing glow,<br /> +And burns as bright beneath the peasant’s roof<br /> +As roof of palaced prince? Yes, Love should seek<br /> +Its match—then give my love its match in thine,<br /> +Its match which in thy gentle breast doth lodge<br /> +So rich—so earthly, heavenly fair and rich,<br /> +As monarchs have no thought of on their thrones,<br /> +Which kingdoms do bear up.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Wast thou a monarch,<br /> +Me wouldst thou make thy queen?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I would.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. What! Pass<br /> +A princess by for me?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I would.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Suppose<br /> +Thy subjects would prevent thee?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Then, in spite<br /> +Of them!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Suppose they were too strong for thee?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Why, then I’d give them up my +throne—content<br /> +With that thou’dst yield me in thy gentle breast.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Can subjects do what monarchs do?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Far more!<br /> +Far less!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Among those things, where more their power,<br /> +Is marriage one?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. And no part of love,<br /> +You say, is rank or wealth?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No part of love.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Is marriage part of love?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. At times it is,<br /> +At times is not. Men love and marry—love<br /> +And marry not.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Then have they not the power;<br /> +So must they hapless part with those they love.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Oh, no! not part! How could they love and +part?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. How could they love not part, not free to wed?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Alone in marriage doth not union lie!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Alone where hands are free! O +yes—alone!<br /> +Love that is love, bestoweth all it can!<br /> +It is protection, if ’tis anything,<br /> +Which nothing in its object leaves exposed<br /> +Its care can shelter. Love that’s free to wed,<br /> +Not wedding, but profanes the name of love;<br /> +Which is, on high authority to Earth’s,<br /> +For Heaven did sit approving at its feast,<br /> +A holy thing! Why make you love to me?<br /> +Women whose hearts are free, by nature tender,<br /> +Their fancies hit by those they are besought by,<br /> +Do first impressions quickly—deeply take;<br /> +And, balked in their election, have been known<br /> +To droop a whole life through! Gain for a maid,<br /> +A broken heart!—to barter her young love,<br /> +And find she changed it for a counterfeit!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. If there is truth in man, I love thee! Hear +me!<br /> +In wedlock, families claim property.<br /> +Old notions, which we needs must humour often,<br /> +Bar us to wed where we are forced to love!<br /> +Thou hear’st?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I do.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. My family is proud;<br /> +Our ancestor, whose arms we bear, did win<br /> +An earldom by his deeds. ’Tis not enough<br /> +I please myself! I must please others, who<br /> +Desert in wealth and station only see.<br /> +Thou hear’st?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I do.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I cannot marry thee,<br /> +And must I lose thee? Do not turn away!<br /> +Without the altar I can honour thee!<br /> +Can cherish thee, nor swear it to the priest;<br /> +For more than life I love thee!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Say thou hatest me,<br /> +And I’ll believe thee! Wherein differs love<br /> +From hate, to do the work of hate—destroy?<br /> +Thy ancestor won title to his deeds!<br /> +Was one of them, to teach an honest maid<br /> +The deed of sin—first steal her love, and then<br /> +Her virtue? If thy family is proud,<br /> +Mine, sir, is worthy! if we are poor, the lack<br /> +Of riches, sir, is not the lack of shame,<br /> +That I should act a part, would raise a blush,<br /> +Nor fear to burn an honest brother’s cheek!<br /> +Thou wouldst share a throne with me! Thou wouldst rob me of<br /> +A throne!—reduce me from dominion to<br /> +Base vassalage!—pull off my crown for me,<br /> +And give my forehead in its place a brand!<br /> +You have insulted me. To shew you, sir,<br /> +The heart you make so light of, you are beloved—<br /> +But she that tells you so, tells you beside<br /> +She ne’er beholds you more!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Stay, Lydia!—No!<br /> +’Tis vain! She is in virtue resolute,<br /> +As she is bland and tender in affection.<br /> +She is a miracle, beholding which<br /> +Wonder doth grow on wonder! What a maid!<br /> +No mood but doth become her—yea, adorn her.<br /> +She turns unsightly anger into beauty!<br /> +Sour scorn grows sweetness, touching her sweet lips!<br /> +And indignation, lighting on her brow,<br /> +Transforms to brightness as the cloud to gold<br /> +That overhangs the sun! I love her! Ay!<br /> +And all the throes of serious passion feel<br /> +At thought of losing her!—so my light love,<br /> +Which but her person did at first affect,<br /> +Her soul has metamorphosed—made a thing<br /> +Of solid thoughts and wishes—I must have her!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Widow Green</span>, unnoticed by <span +class="smcap">Sir Waller</span>, who continues abstracted.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. What! Master Waller, and contemplative!<br /> +Presumptive proof of love! Of me he thinks!<br /> +Revolves the point “to be or not to be!”<br /> +“To be!” by all the triumphs of my sex!<br /> +There was a sigh! My life upon’t, that sigh,<br /> +If construed, would translate “Dear Widow Green!”</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Enchanting woman!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. That is I!—most deep<br /> +Abstraction, sure concomitant of love.<br /> +Now, could I see his busy fancy’s painting,<br /> +How should I blush to gaze upon myself.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. The matchless form of woman! The choice +calling<br /> +Of the aspiring artist, whose ambition<br /> +Robs Nature to outdo her—the perfections<br /> +Of her rare various workmanship combines<br /> +To aggrandise his art at Nature’s cost,<br /> +And make a paragon!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Gods! how he draws me!<br /> +Soon as he sees me, at my feet he falls!—<br /> +Good Master Waller!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Ha! The Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. He is confounded! So am I. O dear!<br /> +How catching is emotion. He can’t speak!<br /> +O beautiful confusion! Amiable<br /> +Excess of modesty with passion struggling!<br /> +Now comes he to declare himself, but wants<br /> +The courage. I must help him.—Master Waller!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Sir William Fondlove</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Dear Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thank<br /> +My lucky stars! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I would he had the gout,<br /> +And kept his room! [Aside.]—You’re welcome, dear Sir +William!<br /> +’Tis very, very kind of you to call.<br /> +Sir William Fondlove—Master Waller. Pray<br /> +Be seated, gentlemen.—He shall requite me<br /> +For his untimely visit. Though the nail<br /> +Be driven home, it may want clinching yet<br /> +To make the hold complete! For that, I’ll use +him.—[Aside.]<br /> +You’re looking monstrous well, Sir William! and<br /> +No wonder. You’re a mine of happy spirits!<br /> +Some women talk of such and such a style<br /> +Of features in a man. Give me good humour;<br /> +That lights the homeliest visage up with beauty,<br /> +And makes the face, where beauty is already,<br /> +Quite irresistible!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. That’s hitting hard. [Aside.]<br /> +Dear Widow Green, don’t say so! On my life<br /> +You flatter me. You almost make me blush.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I durst not turn to Master Waller now,<br /> +Nor need I. I can fancy how he looks!<br /> +I warrant me he scowls on poor Sir William,<br /> +As he could eat him up. I must improve<br /> +His discontent, and so make sure of him.—[Aside.]<br /> +I flatter you, Sir William! O, you men!<br /> +You men, that talk so meek, and all the while<br /> +Do know so well your power! Who would think<br /> +You had a marriageable daughter! You<br /> +Did marry very young.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. A boy!—a boy!<br /> +Who knew not his own mind.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Your daughter’s twenty.<br /> +Come, you at least were twenty when you married;<br /> +That makes you forty.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. O dear! Widow Green.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Not forty?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You do quite embarrass me!<br /> +I own I have the feelings of a boy,<br /> +The freshness and the glow of spring-time, yet,—<br /> +The relish yet for my young schooldays’ sports;<br /> +Could whip a top—could shoot at taw—could play<br /> +At prison-bars and leapfrog—so I might—<br /> +Not with a limb, perhaps, as supple, but<br /> +With quite as supple will. Yet I confess<br /> +To more than forty!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Do you say so? Well,<br /> +I’ll never guess a man’s age by his looks<br /> +Again.—Poor Master Waller! He must writhe<br /> +To hear I think Sir William is so young.<br /> +I’ll turn his visit yet to more account.—[Aside.]<br /> +A handsome ring, Sir William, that you wear!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Pray look at it.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. The mention of a ring<br /> +Will take away his breath.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. She must be mine<br /> +Whate’er her terms! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I’ll steal a look at him!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. What! though it be the ring?—the marriage +ring?<br /> +If that she sticks at, she deserves to wear it!<br /> +Oh, the debate which love and prudence hold! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. How highly he is wrought upon! His hands<br /> +Are clenched!—I warrant me his frame doth shake!<br /> +Poor Master Waller! I have filled his heart<br /> +Brimful with passion for me. The delight<br /> +Of proving thus my power!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Dear Widow Green!—<br /> +She hears not! How the ring hath set her thinking!<br /> +I’ll try and make her jealous. [Aside.]—Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Would you think that ring<br /> +Could tell a story?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Could it? Ah, Sir William,<br /> +I fear you are a rogue.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. O no!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. You are!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. No, on my honour! Would you like to hear<br /> +The story of the ring?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Much—very much.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Think’st we may venture draw our chairs +apart<br /> +A little more from Master Waller?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Yes.<br /> +He’ll bring it to a scene! Dear—dear Sir William,<br /> +How much I am obliged to him! A scene!<br /> +Gods, we shall have a scene!—Good Master Waller,<br /> +Your leave I pray you for a minute, while<br /> +Sir William says a word or two to me.—<br /> +He durst not trust his tongue for jealousy!—[Aside.]<br /> +Now, dear Sir William!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You must promise me<br /> +You will not think me vain.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. No fear of that.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Nor given to boast.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. O! dear Sir William!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Nor<br /> +A flirt!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. O! who would take you for a flirt?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. How very kind you are!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Go on, Sir William.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Upon my life, I fear you’ll think me +vain!<br /> +I’m covered with confusion at the thought<br /> +Of what I’ve done. ’Twas very, very wrong<br /> +To promise you the story of the ring;<br /> +Men should not talk of such things.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Such as what?<br /> +As ladies’ favours?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. ’Pon my life, I feel<br /> +As I were like to sink into the earth.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. A lady then it was gave you the ring?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Don’t ask me to say yes, but only scan<br /> +The inside of the ring.—How much she’s moved. +[Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. They to each other company enough!<br /> +I, company for no one but myself.<br /> +I’ll take my leave, nor trouble them to pay<br /> +The compliments of parting. Lydia! Lydia!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. What’s here? +“Eliza!” So it was a lady!—<br /> +How wondrously does Master Waller bear it!<br /> +He surely will not hold much longer out.—[Aside.]<br /> +Sir William! Nay, look up! What cause to cast<br /> +Your eyes upon the ground? What an it were<br /> +A lady?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You’re not angry?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. No!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. She is.<br /> +I’ll take the tone she speaks in ’gainst the word,<br /> +For fifty crowns.—I have not told you all<br /> +About the ring; though I would sooner die<br /> +Than play the braggart!—yet, as truth is truth,<br /> +And told by halves, may from a simple thing,<br /> +By misconstruction, to a monster grow,<br /> +I’ll tell the whole truth!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Dear Sir William, do!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. The lady was a maid, and very young;<br /> +Nor there in justice to her must I stop,<br /> +But say that she was beautiful as young;<br /> +And add to that that she was learned too,<br /> +Almost enough to win for her that title,<br /> +Our sex, in poor conceit of their own merits,<br /> +And narrow spirit of monopoly,<br /> +And jealousy, which gallantry eschews,<br /> +Do give to women who assert their right<br /> +To minds as well as we.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. What! a blue-stocking?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I see—she’ll come to calling names at +last.—[Aside.]<br /> +I should offend myself to quote the term.<br /> +But, to return, for yet I have not done;<br /> +And further yet may go, then progress on<br /> +That she was young, that she was beautiful.<br /> +A wit and learned are naught to what’s to come—<br /> +She had a heart!—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. [Who during <span class="smcap">Sir +William’s</span> speech has turned gradually.]<br /> +What, Master Waller gone! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I say she had a heart—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. [Starting up—<span class="smcap">Sir +William</span> also.] A plague upon her!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I knew she would break out! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Here, take the ring. It has ruined me!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I vow thou hast no cause<br /> +For anger!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Have I not? I am undone,<br /> +And all about that bauble of a ring.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You’re right, it is a bauble.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. And the minx<br /> +That gave it thee!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. You’re right, she was a minx.<br /> +I knew she’d come to calling names at last. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove, leave me.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Widow Green!—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. You have undone me, sir!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Don’t say so! Don’t!<br /> +It was a girl—a child gave me the ring!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Do you hear me, sir? I bade you leave +me.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. If<br /> +I thought you were so jealous—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Jealous, sir!<br /> +Sir William! quit my house.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. A little girl<br /> +To make you jealous!</p> +<p>W. Green. Sir, you’ll drive me mad!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. A child, a perfect child, not ten years old!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir, I would be alone, sir!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Young enough<br /> +To dandle still her doll!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Dear Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I hate you, sir! Detest you! Never +wish<br /> +To see you more! You have ruined me! Undone me!<br /> +A blighted life I wear, and all through you!<br /> +The fairest hopes that ever woman nourished,<br /> +You’ve cankered in the very blowing! bloom<br /> +And sweet destroyed, and nothing left me, but<br /> +The melancholy stem.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. And all about<br /> +A little slut I gave a rattle to!—<br /> +Would pester me for gingerbread and comfits!—<br /> +A little roguish feigning! A love-trick<br /> +I played to prove your love!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove!<br /> +If of my own house you’ll not suffer me<br /> +To be the mistress, I will leave it to you!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Dear Widow Green! The ring—</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Confound the ring,<br /> +The donor of it, thee, and everything!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. She is over head and ears in love with me!<br /> +She’s mad with love! There’s love and all its signs!<br /> +She’s jealous of me unto very death!<br /> +Poor Widow Green! I warrant she is now<br /> +In tears! I think I hear her sob! Poor thing!<br /> +Sir William! Oh, Sir William! You have raised<br /> +A furious tempest! Set your wits to work<br /> +To turn it to a calm. No question that<br /> +She loves me! None then that she’ll take me! So<br /> +I’ll have the marriage settlements made out<br /> +To-morrow, and a special licence got,<br /> +And marry her the next day! I will make<br /> +Quick work of it, and take her by surprise!<br /> +Who but a widower a widow’s match?<br /> +What could she see with else but partial eyes<br /> +To guess me only forty? I’m a wonder!<br /> +What shall I pass for in my wedding suit?<br /> +I vow I am a puzzle to myself,<br /> +As well as all the world besides. Odd’s life!<br /> +To win the heart of buxom Widow Green!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Widow Green</span> re-enters with <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. At last the dotard’s gone! Fly, +Lydia, fly,<br /> +This letter bear to Master Waller straight;<br /> +Quick, quick, or I’m undone! He is abused,<br /> +And I must undeceive him—own my love,<br /> +And heart and hand at his disposal lay.<br /> +Answer me not, my girl—obey me! Fly.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Untowardly it falls!—I had resolved<br /> +This hour to tell her I must quit her service!<br /> +Go to his house! I will not disobey<br /> +Her last commands!—I’ll leave it at the door,<br /> +And as it closes on me think I take<br /> +One more adieu of him! Hard destiny!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE II.—A Room in Sir William’s.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Constance</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. The booby! He must fall in love, indeed!<br /> +And now he’s naught but sentimental looks<br /> +And sentences, pronounced ’twixt breath and voice!<br /> +And attitudes of tender languishment!<br /> +Nor can I get from him the name of her<br /> +Hath turned him from a stock into a fool.<br /> +He hems and haws, now titters, now looks grave!<br /> +Begins to speak and halts! takes off his eyes<br /> +To fall in contemplation on a chair,<br /> +A table, or the ceiling, wall, or floor!<br /> +I’ll plague him worse and worse! O, here he comes!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Despite her spiteful usage I’m resolved<br /> +To tell her now. Dear neighbour Constance!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Fool!<br /> +Accost me like a lady, sir! I hate<br /> +The name of neighbour!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Mistress Constance, then—<br /> +I’ll call thee that.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Don’t call me anything!<br /> +I hate to hear thee speak—to look at thee,<br /> +To dwell in the same house with thee!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. In what<br /> +Have I offended?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What!—I hate an ape!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. An ape!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Who bade thee ape the gentleman?<br /> +And put on dress that don’t belong to thee?<br /> +Go! change thee with thy whipper-in or huntsman,<br /> +And none will doubt thou wearest thy own clothes.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. A pretty pass! Mocked for the very dress<br /> +I bought to pleasure her! Untoward things<br /> +Are women! [Aside. Walks backwards and forwards.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Do you call that walking? Pray<br /> +What makes you twist your body so, and take<br /> +Such pains to turn your toes out? If you’d walk,<br /> +Walk thus! Walk like a man, as I do now!</p> +<p>[Walking]</p> +<p>Is yours the way a gentleman should walk?<br /> +You neither walk like man nor gentleman!<br /> +I’ll show you how you walk. [Mimicking him.]<br /> +Do you call that walking?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. My thanks, for a drill-sergeant twice a day<br /> +For her sake! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Now, of all things in the world,<br /> +What made you dance last night?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. What made me dance?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Right! It was anything but dancing! +Steps<br /> +That never came from dancing-school—nor English,<br /> +Nor Scotch, nor Irish! You must try to cut,<br /> +And how you did it! [Cuts.] That’s the way to cut!<br /> +And then your chassé! Thus you went, and thus.</p> +<p>[Mimicking him.]</p> +<p>As though you had been playing at hop, step,<br /> +And jump!—and yet you looked so monstrous pleased,<br /> +And played the simpleton with such a grace,<br /> +Taking their tittering for compliment!<br /> +I could have boxed you soundly for’t. Ten times<br /> +Denied I that I knew you.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Twenty guineas<br /> +Were better in the gutter thrown than gone<br /> +To fee a dancing-master! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And you’re grown<br /> +An amateur in music!—What fine air<br /> +Was that you praised last night?—“The Widow Jones!”<br /> +A country jig they turned into a song.<br /> +You asked “If it had come from Italy?”<br /> +The lady blushed and held her peace, and then<br /> +You blushed and said, “Perhaps it came from France!”<br /> +And then when blushed the lady more, nor spoke,<br /> +You said, “At least it came from Germany!”<br /> +The air was English!—a true English air;<br /> +A downright English air!—a common air;<br /> +Old as “When Good King Arthur.” Not a square,<br /> +Court, alley, street, or lane about the town,<br /> +In which it is not whistled, played, or sung!<br /> +But you must have it come from Italy,<br /> +Or Germany, or France. Go home! Go home!<br /> +To Lincolnshire, and mind thy dog and horn!<br /> +You’ll never do for town! “The Widow Jones”<br /> +To come from Italy! Stay not in town,<br /> +Or you’ll be married to the Widow Jones,<br /> +Since you’ve forsworn, you say, the Widow Green!<br /> +And morn and night they’ll din your ears with her!<br /> +“Well met, dear Master Wildrake. A fine day!<br /> +Pray, can you tell whence came the Widow Jones?”<br /> +They love a jest in town! To Lincolnshire!<br /> +You’ll never do for town! To Lincolnshire;<br /> +“The Widow Jones” to come from Italy!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Confound the Widow Jones! ’Tis +true! The air<br /> +Well as the huntsman’s triple mort I know,<br /> +But knew not then indeed, ’twas so disguised<br /> +With shakes and flourishes, outlandish things,<br /> +That mar, not grace, an honest English song!<br /> +Howe’er, the mischief’s done! and as for her,<br /> +She is either into hate or madness fallen.<br /> +If madness, would she had her wits again,<br /> +Or I my heart! If hate, my love’s undone;<br /> +I’ll give her up. I’ll e’en to Master Trueworth,<br /> +Confess my treason—own my punishment—<br /> +Take horse, and back again to Lincolnshire!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Returning.] Not here! I trust I have not +gone too far!<br /> +If he should quit the house! Go out of town!<br /> +Poor neighbour Wildrake! Little does he owe me!<br /> +From childhood I’ve been used to plague him thus.<br /> +Why would he fall in love, and spoil it all!<br /> +I feel as I could cry! He has no right<br /> +To marry any one! What wants he with<br /> +A wife? Has he not plague enough in me?<br /> +Would he be plagued with anybody else?<br /> +Ever since I have lived in town I have felt<br /> +The want of neighbour Wildrake! Not a soul<br /> +Besides I care to quarrel with; and now<br /> +He goes and gives himself to another! What!<br /> +Am I in love with neighbour Wildrake? No.<br /> +I only would not have him marry—marry?<br /> +Sooner I’d have him dead than have him marry!</p> +<h2>ACT IV.</h2> +<h3>SCENE I.—A Room in Master Waller’s House.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Alice</span>, hastily.]</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. [Speaking to the outside.] Fly, Stephen, to +the door! your rapier! quick!—<br /> +Our master is beset, because of one<br /> +Whose part he takes, a maid, whom lawless men<br /> +Would lawlessly entreat! In what a world<br /> +We live!—How do I shake!—with what address<br /> +[Looking out of window.]<br /> +He lays about him, and his other arm<br /> +Engaged, in charge of her whom he defends!<br /> +A damsel worth a broil!—Now, Stephen, now!<br /> +Take off the odds, brave lad, and turn the scale!<br /> +I would I were a swordsman! How he makes<br /> +His rapier fly!—Well done!—O Heaven, there’s blood.<br /> +But on the side that’s wrong!—Well done, good Stephen!<br /> +Pray Heaven no life be ta’en!—Lay on, brave lad!<br /> +He has marked his man again. Good lad—Well done,<br /> +I pray no mischief come!—Press on him, Stephen!<br /> +Now gives he ground.—Follow thy advantage up!<br /> +Allow no pause for breaths!—Hit him again!<br /> +Forbid it end in death!—Lounge home, good Stephen!<br /> +How fast he now retreats!—That spring, I’ll swear,<br /> +Was answer to thy point!—Well fenced!—Well fenced!<br /> +Now Heaven forefend it end in death!—He flies!<br /> +And from his comrade, the same moment, hath<br /> +Our master jerked his sword—The day is ours!<br /> +Quick may they get a surgeon for their wounds,<br /> +And I, a cordial for my fluttered spirits:<br /> +I vow, I’m nigh to swoon!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Without.] Hoa! Alice! Hoa!<br /> +Open the door! Quick, Alice! Quick!</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. Anon!<br /> +Young joints take no thought of agéd ones,<br /> +But ever think them as supple as themselves.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Alice!</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. [Opening the door.] I’m here!—A +mercy!—<br /> +Is she dead?</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Master Waller</span>, bearing <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span>, fainting.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No, she but faints.—A chair!—Quick, Alice, +quick!<br /> +Water to bathe her temples.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Alice</span> goes out.]</p> +<p>Such a turn<br /> +Kind fortune never do me. Shall I kiss<br /> +To life these frozen lips?—No!—of her plight<br /> +’Twere base to take advantage.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Alice</span> returns, &c.]</p> +<p>All is well,<br /> +The blood returns.</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. How wondrous fair she is!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou think’st her so? [Aside.] No wonder then +should I.<br /> +[Aloud.] How say you?—Wondrous fair?</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. Yes; wondrous fair!<br /> +Harm never come to her! So sweet a thing<br /> +’Twere pity were abused!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You think her fair?</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. Ay, marry! Half so fair were more than +match<br /> +For fairest she e’er saw mine eyes before!<br /> +And what a form! A foot and instep there!<br /> +Vouchers of symmetry! A little foot<br /> +And rising instep, from an ankle arching,<br /> +A palm, and that a little one, might span.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Who taught thee thus?</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. Why who, but her, taught thee?<br /> +Thy mother!—Heaven rest her!—Thy good mother!<br /> +She could read men and women by their hands<br /> +And feet!—And here’s a hand!—A fairy palm!<br /> +Fingers that taper to the pinky tips,<br /> +With nails of rose, like shells of such a hue,<br /> +Berimmed with pearl, you pick up on the shore!<br /> +Save these the gloss and tint do wear without.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Why, how thou talk’st!</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. Did I not tell thee thus<br /> +Thy mother used to talk? Such hand and foot,<br /> +She would say, in man or woman vouched for nature<br /> +High tempered!—Still for sentiment refined;<br /> +Affection tender; apprehension quick—<br /> +Degrees beyond the generality!<br /> +There is a marriage finger! Curse the hand<br /> +Would balk it of a ring!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. She’s quite restored,<br /> +Leave us!—Why cast’st thou that uneasy look?<br /> +Why linger’st thou? I’m not alone with her.<br /> +My honour’s with her too. I would not wrong her.</p> +<p><i>Alice</i>. And if thou wouldst, thou’rt not thy +mother’s son.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. You are better?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Much!—much!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Know you him who durst<br /> +Attempt this violence in open day?<br /> +It seemed as he would force thee to his coach,<br /> +I saw attending.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Take this letter, sir,<br /> +And send the answer—I must needs be gone.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Throwing the letter away.] I read no letter!<br /> +Tell me, what of him<br /> +I saw offend thee?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. He hath often met me,<br /> +And by design I think, upon the street,<br /> +And tried to win mine ear, which ne’er he got<br /> +Save only by enforcement. Presents—gifts—<br /> +Of jewels and of gold to wild amount,<br /> +To win an audience, hath he proffered me;<br /> +Until, methought, my silence—for my lips<br /> +Disdained reply where question was a wrong—<br /> +Had wearied him. Oh, sir, whate’er of life<br /> +Remains to me I had foregone, ere proved<br /> +The horror of this hour!—and you it is<br /> +That have protected me?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Oh, speak not on’t!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. You that have saved me from mine enemy—</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I pray you to forget it.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. From a foe<br /> +More dire than he that putteth life in peril—</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. No!<br /> +I will not spare you.—You have brought me to safety,<br /> +You whom I fear worse than that baleful foe.</p> +<p>[Rises to go.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. [Kneeling and snatching her hand.] Lydia!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Now, make thy bounty perfect. Drop<br /> +My hand. That posture which dishonours thee,<br /> +Quit!—for ’tis shame on shame to show respect<br /> +Where we do feel disdain. Throw ope thy gate<br /> +And let me pass, and never seek with me,<br /> +By look, or speech, or aught, communion more!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thou saidst thou lovedst me?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Yes! when I believed<br /> +My tongue did take of thee its last adieu,<br /> +And now that I do know it—for be sure<br /> +It never bids adieu to thee again—<br /> +Again, I tell it thee! Release me, sir!<br /> +Rise!—and no hindrance to my will oppose,<br /> +That would be free to go.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I cannot lose thee!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Thou canst not have me!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. No!</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Thou canst not. I<br /> +Repeat it.—Yet I’m thine—thine every way,<br /> +Except where honour fences!—Honour, sir,<br /> +Not property of gentle blood alone;<br /> +Of gentle blood not always property!<br /> +Thou’lt not obey me. Still enforcest me!<br /> +Oh, what a contradiction is a man!<br /> +What in another he one moment spurns,<br /> +The next—he does himself complacently!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Wouldst have me lose the hand that holds my life?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Hear me and keep it, if thou art a man!<br /> +I love thee—for thy benefit would give<br /> +The labour of that hand!—wear out my feet!<br /> +Rack the invention of my mind!—the powers<br /> +Of my heart in one volition gather up!<br /> +My life expend, and think no more I gave<br /> +Than he who wins a priceless gem for thanks!<br /> +For such goodwill canst thou return me wrong?</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Yet, for awhile, I cannot let thee go.<br /> +Propound for me an oath that I’ll not wrong thee!<br /> +An oath, which, if I break it, will entail<br /> +Forfeit of earth and heaven. I’ll take it—so<br /> +Thou stay’st one hour with me.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. No!—Not one moment!<br /> +Unhand me, or I shriek!—I know the summons<br /> +Will pierce into the street, and set me free!<br /> +I stand in peril while I’m near thee! She<br /> +Who knows her danger, and delays escape,<br /> +Hath but herself to thank, whate’er befalls!<br /> +Sir, I may have a woman’s weakness, but<br /> +I have a woman’s resolution, too,<br /> +And that’s a woman’s strength!<br /> +One moment more!—</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lo! Thou art free to go!</p> +<p>[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.]</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lydia</span> approaches the door—her pace +slackens—she pauses with her hand upon the lock—turns, and +looks earnestly on <span class="smcap">Waller</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I have a word<br /> +To say to thee; if by thy mother’s honour,<br /> +Thou swear’st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. I swear as thou propound’st to me.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, +why—<br /> +Why have you used me thus? See what you’ve done!<br /> +Essayed to light a guilty passion up,<br /> +And kindled in its stead a holy one!<br /> +For I do love thee! Know’st thou not the wish<br /> +To find desert doth bring it oft to sight<br /> +Where yet it is not? so, for substance, passes<br /> +What only is a phantasm of our minds!<br /> +I feared thy love was guilty—yet my wish<br /> +To find it honest, stronger than my fear,<br /> +My fear with fatal triumph overthrew!<br /> +Now hope and fear give up to certainty,<br /> +And I must fly thee—yet must love thee still!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lydia! by all—</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I pray you hear me out!<br /> +Was ’t right? was ’t generous? was ’t pitiful?<br /> +One way or other I might be undone:<br /> +To love with sin—or love without a hope!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Yet hear me, Lydia!—</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. Stop! I’m undone!<br /> +A maid without a heart—robbed of the soil,<br /> +Wherein life’s hopes and wishes root and spring,<br /> +And thou the foe that did me so much hate,<br /> +And vowed me so much love!—but I forgive thee!<br /> +Yea, I do bless thee!</p> +<p>[Rushing up and sinking at his feet.]</p> +<p>Recollect thy oath!—<br /> +Or in thy heart lodged never germ of honour,<br /> +But ’tis a desert all!</p> +<p>[She kisses his hand—presses it to her heart, and kisses it +again.]</p> +<p>Farewell then to thee!</p> +<p>[Rises.]</p> +<p>Mayst thou be happy. [Going.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Wouldst ensure the thing<br /> +Thou wishest?</p> +<p>[She moves towards the door with a gesture that prohibits further +converse.]</p> +<p>Stop! [She continues to move on.]<br /> +Oh, sternly resolute! [She still moves.]<br /> +I mean thee honour!</p> +<p>[She stops and turns towards him.]</p> +<p>Thou dost meditate—<br /> +I know it—flight. Give me some pause for thought,<br /> +But to confirm a mind almost made up.<br /> +If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then<br /> +Think me a friend far better lost than won!<br /> +Wilt thou do this?</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. I will.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. An hour decides.</p> +<p>[They go out severally.]</p> +<h3>SCENE II.—A Room in Sir William Fondlove’s House.</h3> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span> and <span +class="smcap">Trueworth</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You are not angry?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. No; I knew the service<br /> +I sent you on was one of danger.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Thank you.<br /> +Most kind you are—And you believe she loves me:<br /> +And your own hopes give up to favour mine.<br /> +Was ever known such kindness! Much I fear<br /> +’Twill cost you.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Never mind! I’ll try and bear it.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. That’s right. No use in yielding to a +thing.<br /> +Resolve does wonders! Shun the sight of her—<br /> +See other women!—Fifty to be found<br /> +As fair as she.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I doubt it.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Doubt it not.<br /> +Doubt nothing that gives promise of a care.<br /> +Right handsome dames there are in Lancashire,<br /> +Whence called their women, witches!—witching things!<br /> +I know a dozen families in which<br /> +You’d meet a courtesy worthy of a bow.<br /> +I’ll give you letters to them.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Will you?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. The worth of a disinterested friend!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. O Master Trueworth, deeply I’m your debtor!<br /> +I own I die for love of neighbour Constance!<br /> +And thou to give her up for me! Kind friend!<br /> +What won’t I do for thee?—Don’t pine to death;<br /> +I’ll find thee fifty ways to cure thy passion,<br /> +And make thee heart-whole, if thou’rt so resolved.<br /> +Thou shalt be master of my sporting stud,<br /> +And go a hunting. If that likes thee not,<br /> +Take up thy quarters at my shooting-lodge;<br /> +There is a cellar to ’t—make free with it.<br /> +I’ll thank thee if thou emptiest it. The song<br /> +Gives out that wine feeds love—It drowns it, man!<br /> +If thou wilt neither hunt nor shoot, try games;<br /> +Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage,<br /> +Backgammon—special recipes for love!<br /> +And you believe, for all the hate she shows,<br /> +That neighbour Constance loves me?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. ’Tis my thought.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. How shall I find it out?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Affect to love<br /> +Another. Say your passion thrives; the day<br /> +Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part<br /> +Of bridemaid to your bride. ’Twill bring her out.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. You think she’ll own her passion?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. If she loves.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I thank thee! I will try it! Master +Trueworth,<br /> +What shall I say to thee, to give her up,<br /> +And love her so?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Say nothing.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Noble friend!<br /> +Kind friend! Instruct another man the way<br /> +To win thy mistress! Thou’lt not break my heart?<br /> +Take my advice, thou shalt not be in love<br /> +A month! Frequent the playhouse!—walk the Park!<br /> +I’ll think of fifty ladies that I know,<br /> +Yet can’t remember now—enchanting ones!<br /> +And then there’s Lancashire!—and I have friends<br /> +In Berkshire and in Wiltshire, that have swarms<br /> +Of daughters! Then my shooting-lodge and stud!<br /> +I’ll cure thee in a fortnight of thy love!<br /> +And now to neighbour Constance—yet almost<br /> +I fear accosting her—a hundred times<br /> +Have I essayed to break my mind to her,<br /> +But still she stops my mouth with restless scorn!<br /> +Howe’er, thy scheme I’ll try, and may it thrive!<br /> +For I am sick for love of neighbour Constance.<br /> +Farewell, dear Master Trueworth! Take my counsel—<br /> +Conquer thy passion! Do so! Be a man!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Feat easy done that does not tax ourselves!</p> +<p>[Enter Phœbe.]</p> +<p><i>Phœbe</i>. A letter, sir.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Good sooth, a roaming one,<br /> +And yet slow traveller. This should have reached me<br /> +In Lombardy.—The hand! Give way, weak seal,<br /> +Thy feeble let too strong for my impatience!<br /> +Ha! Wronged!—Let me contain myself!—Compelled<br /> +To fly the roof that gave her birth!—My sister!<br /> +No partner in her flight but her pure honour!<br /> +I am again a brother. Pillow, board,<br /> +I know not till I find her.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Waller</span>.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Master Trueworth!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Ha! Master Waller! Welcome, Master +Waller.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Good Master Trueworth, thank you. Finding you<br /> +From home, I e’en made bold to follow you,<br /> +For I esteem you as a man, and fain<br /> +Would benefit by your kind offices.<br /> +But let me tell you first, to your reproof,<br /> +I am indebted more than e’er I was<br /> +To praise of any other! I am come, sir,<br /> +To give you evidence I am not one<br /> +Who owns advice is right, and acts not on’t.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Pray you explain.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Will you the bearer be<br /> +Of this to one has cause to thank you, too,<br /> +Though I the larger debtor?—Read it, sir.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. [Reading the letter.] “At morn to-morrow +I will make you mine;<br /> +Will you accept from me the name of wife—<br /> +The name of husband give me in exchange?”</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. How say you, sir?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. ’Tis boldly—nobly done!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. If she consents—which affectation +’twere<br /> +To say I doubt—bid her prepare for church,<br /> +And you shall act the father, sir, to her<br /> +You did the brother by.</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Right willingly,<br /> +Though matter of high moment I defer,<br /> +Mind, heart, and soul, are all enlisted in!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. May I implore you, haste! A time is +set!—<br /> +How light an act of duty makes the heart!</p> +<p>[They go out together.]</p> +<h3>SCENE III.—Another Chamber in Sir William’s house.</h3> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Constance</span> discovered.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I’ll pine to death for no man! Wise it +were,<br /> +Indeed, to die for neighbour Wildrake—No!—<br /> +I know the duty of a woman, better—<br /> +What fits a maid of spirit! I am out<br /> +Of patience with myself, to cast a thought<br /> +Away upon him. Hang him! Lovers cost<br /> +Nought but the pains of luring. I’ll get fifty,<br /> +And break the heart of every one of them!<br /> +I will! I’ll be the champion of my sex,<br /> +And take revenge on shallow, fickle man,<br /> +Who gives his heart to fools, and slights the worth<br /> +Of proper women! I suppose she’s handsome!<br /> +My face ’gainst hers, at hazard of mine eyes!<br /> +A maid of mind! I’ll talk her to a stand,<br /> +Or tie my tongue for life! A maid of soul!<br /> +An artful, managing, dissembling one!<br /> +Or she had never caught. Him!—he’s no man<br /> +To fall in love himself, or long ago<br /> +I warrant he had fall’n in love with me!<br /> +I hate the fool—I do! Ha, here he comes.<br /> +What brings him hither? Let me dry my eyes;<br /> +He must not see I have been crying. Hang him,<br /> +I have much to do, indeed, to cry for him!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Your servant, neighbour Constance.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Servant, sir!<br /> +Now what, I wonder, comes the fool to say,<br /> +Makes him look so important?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Neighbour Constance,<br /> +I am a happy man.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What makes you so?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. A thriving suit.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. In Chancery?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Oh, no!<br /> +In love.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Oh, true! You are in love! Go on!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Well, as I said, my suit’s a thriving one.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. You mean you are beloved again!—I don’t<br /> +Believe it.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I can give you proof.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What proof?<br /> +Love letters? She’s a shameless maid<br /> +To write them! Can she spell? Ay, I suppose<br /> +With prompting of a dictionary!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Nay,<br /> +Without one.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I will lay you ten to one<br /> +She cannot spell! How know you she can spell?<br /> +You cannot spell yourself! You write command<br /> +With a single M—C-O-M-A-N-D:<br /> +Yours to Co-mand.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I did not say she wrote<br /> +Love letters to me.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Then she suffers you to press<br /> +Her hand, perhaps?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. She does.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Does she press yours?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. She does.—It goes on swimmingly! +[Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. She does!<br /> +She is no modest woman! I’ll be bound,<br /> +Your arm the madam suffers round her waist?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. She does!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. She does! Outrageous forwardness!<br /> +Does she let you kiss her?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. She should be—</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. What?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What you got thrice your share of when at school,<br /> +And yet not half your due! A brazen face!<br /> +More could not grant a maid about to wed.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. She is so.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. What?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. How swimmingly it goes! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [With suppressed impatience.] Are you about to +marry, neighbour Wildrake?<br /> +Are you about to marry?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Excellent. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Breaking out.] Why don’t you answer +me?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I am.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. You are—<br /> +I tell you what, sir—You’re a fool!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. For what?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. You are not fit to marry. Do not know<br /> +Enough of the world, sir! Have no more experience,<br /> +Thought, judgment, than a schoolboy! Have no mind<br /> +Of your own!—your wife will make a fool of you,<br /> +Will jilt you, break your heart! I wish she may,<br /> +I do! You have no more business with a wife<br /> +Than I have! Do you mean to say, indeed,<br /> +You are about to marry?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Yes, indeed.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And when?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I’ll say to-morrow! [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. When, I say?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. To-morrow.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Thank you: much beholden to you!<br /> +You’ve told me on’t in time! I’m very much<br /> +Beholden to you, neighbour Wildrake!<br /> +And, I pray you, at what hour?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. That we have left<br /> +For you to name.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. For me!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. For you.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Indeed.<br /> +You’re very bountiful! I should not wonder<br /> +Meant you I should be bridemaid to the lady?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. ’Tis just the thing I mean!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Furiously.] The thing you mean!<br /> +Now pray you, neighbour, tell me that again,<br /> +And think before you speak; for much I doubt<br /> +You know what you are saying. Do you mean<br /> +To ask me to be bridemaid?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Even so.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Bridemaid?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Ay, bridemaid!—It is coming fast<br /> +Unto a head. [Aside.]</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. And ’tis for me you wait<br /> +To fix the day? It shall be doomsday, then!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Be doomsday?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Doomsday!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Wherefore doomsday?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Wherefore!—[Boxes him.]<br /> +Go ask your bride, and give her that from me.<br /> +Look, neighbour Wildrake! you may think this strange,<br /> +But don’t misconstrue it! For you are vain, sir!<br /> +And may put down for love what comes from hate.<br /> +I should not wonder, thought you I was jealous;<br /> +But I’m not jealous, sir!—would scorn to be so<br /> +Where it was worth my while—I pray henceforth<br /> +We may be strangers, sir—you will oblige me<br /> +By going out of town. I should not like<br /> +To meet you on the street, sir. Marry, sir!<br /> +Marry to-day! The sooner, sir, the better!<br /> +And may you find you have made a bargain, sir.<br /> +As for the lady!—much I wish her joy.<br /> +I pray you send me no bridecake, sir!<br /> +Nor gloves—If you do, I’ll give them to my maid!<br /> +Or throw them into the kennel—or the fire.<br /> +I am your most obedient servant, sir!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. She is a riddle, solve her he who can!</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<h2>ACT V.</h2> +<h3>SCENE I.—A Room in Sir William Fondlove’s.</h3> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir William</span> seated with two Lawyers.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. How many words you take to tell few things<br /> +Again, again say over what, said once,<br /> +Methinks were told enough!</p> +<p><i>First Lawyer</i>. It is the law,<br /> +Which labours at precision.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Yes; and thrives<br /> +Upon uncertainty—and makes it, too,<br /> +With all its pains to shun it. I could bind<br /> +Myself, methinks, with but the twentieth part<br /> +Of all this cordage, sirs.—But every man,<br /> +As they say, to his own business. You think<br /> +The settlement is handsome?</p> +<p><i>First Lawyer</i>. Very, sir.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Then now, sirs, we have done, and take my +thanks,<br /> +Which, with your charges, I will render you<br /> +Again to-morrow.</p> +<p><i>First Lawyer</i>. Happy nuptials, sir.</p> +<p>[Lawyers go out.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Who passes there? Hoa! send my daughter to +me,<br /> +And Master Wildrake too! I wait for them.<br /> +Bold work!—Without her leave to wait upon her,<br /> +And ask her go to church!—’Tis taking her<br /> +By storm! What else could move her yesterday<br /> +But jealousy? What causeth jealousy<br /> +But love? She’s mine the moment she receives<br /> +Conclusive proof, like this, that heart and soul,<br /> +And mind and person, I am all her own!<br /> +Heigh ho! These soft alarms are very sweet,<br /> +And yet tormenting too! Ha! Master Wildrake,</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.]</p> +<p>I am glad you’re ready, for I’m all in arms<br /> +To bear the widow off. Come! Don’t be sad;<br /> +All must go merrily, you know, to-day!—<br /> +She still doth bear him hard, I see! The girl<br /> +Affects him not, and Trueworth is at fault,<br /> +Though clear it is that he doth die for her. [Aside.]<br /> +Well, daughter?—So I see you’re ready too.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Constance</span>.]</p> +<p>Why, what’s amiss with thee?</p> +<p><i>Phœbe</i>. [Entering.] The coach is here.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Come, Wildrake, offer her your arm.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.] I +thank you!<br /> +I am not an invalid!—can use my limbs!<br /> +He knows not how to make an arm, befits<br /> +A lady lean upon.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Why, teach him, then.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Teach him! Teach Master Wildrake! Teach, +indeed!<br /> +I taught my dog to beg, because I knew<br /> +That he could learn it.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Peace, thou little shrew!<br /> +I’ll have no wrangling on my wedding-day!<br /> +Here, take my arm.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I’ll not!—I’ll walk alone!<br /> +Live, die alone! I do abominate<br /> +The fool and all his sex!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Again!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. I have done.<br /> +When do you marry, Master Wildrake? She<br /> +Will want a husband goes to church with thee!</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE II.—Widow Green’s Dressing-room.</h3> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Widow Green</span> discovered at her Toilet, +attended by <span class="smcap">Amelia</span>, <span +class="smcap">Waller’s</span> Letter to <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span> in her hand.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Oh, bond of destiny!—Fair bond, that +seal’st<br /> +My fate in happiness! I’ll read thee yet<br /> +Again—although thou’rt written on my heart.<br /> +But here his hand, indicting thee, did lie!<br /> +And this the tracing of his fingers! So<br /> +I read thee that could rhyme thee, as my prayers!<br /> +“At morn to-morrow I will make you mine.<br /> +Will you accept from me the name of wife—<br /> +The name of husband give me in exchange?”<br /> +The traitress! to break ope my billet-doux,<br /> +And take the envelope!—But I forgive her,<br /> +Since she did leave the rich contents behind.<br /> +Amelia, give this feather more a slope,<br /> +That it sit droopingly. I would look all<br /> +Dissolvement, nought about me to bespeak<br /> +Boldness! I would appear a timid bride,<br /> +Trembling upon the verge of wifehood, as<br /> +I ne’er before had stood there! That will do.<br /> +Oh dear!—How I am agitated—don’t<br /> +I look so? I have found a secret out,—<br /> +Nothing in woman strikes a man so much<br /> +As to look interesting! Hang this cheek<br /> +Of mine! It is too saucy; what a pity<br /> +To have a colour of one’s own!—Amelia!<br /> +Could you contrive, dear girl, to bleach my cheek,<br /> +How I would thank you! I could give it then<br /> +What tint I chose, and that should be the hectic<br /> +Bespeaks a heart in delicate commotion.<br /> +I am much too florid! Stick a rose in my hair,<br /> +The brightest you can find, ’twill help, my girl,<br /> +Subdue my rebel colour—Nay, the rose<br /> +Doth lose complexion, not my cheek! Exchange it<br /> +For a carnation. That’s the flower, Amelia!<br /> +You see how it doth triumph o’er my cheek.<br /> +Are you content with me?</p> +<p><i>Amelia</i>. I am, my lady.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. And whither think you has the hussy gone,<br /> +Whose place you fill so well?—Into the country?<br /> +Or fancy you she stops in town?</p> +<p><i>Amelia</i>. I can’t<br /> +Conjecture.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Shame upon her!—Leave her place<br /> +Without a moment’s warning!—with a man, too!<br /> +Seemed he a gentleman that took her hence?</p> +<p><i>Amelia</i>. He did.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. You never saw him here before?</p> +<p><i>Amelia</i>. Never.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Not lounging on the other side<br /> +Of the street, and reconnoitring the windows?</p> +<p><i>Amelia</i>. Never.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. ’Twas planned by letter. Notes, you +know,<br /> +Have often come to her—But I forgive her,<br /> +Since this advice she chanced to leave behind<br /> +Of gentle Master Waller’s wishes, which<br /> +I bless myself in blessing!—Gods, a knock!<br /> +’Tis he! Show in those ladies are so kind<br /> +To act my bridemaids for me on this brief<br /> +And agitating notice.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Amelia</span> goes out.]</p> +<p>Yes, I look<br /> +A bride sufficiently! And this the hand<br /> +That gives away my liberty again.<br /> +Upon my life it is a pretty hand,<br /> +A delicate and sentimental hand!<br /> +No lotion equals gloves; no woman knows<br /> +The use of them that does not sleep in them!<br /> +My neck hath kept its colour wondrously!<br /> +Well; after all it is no miracle<br /> +That I should win the heart of a young man.<br /> +My bridemaids come!—Oh dear!</p> +<p>[Enter two Ladies.]</p> +<p><i>First Lady</i>. How do you, love? A good morning to +you—Poor dear,<br /> +How much you are affected! Why we thought<br /> +You ne’er would summon us.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. One takes, you know,<br /> +When one is flurried, twice the time to dress.<br /> +My dears, has either of you salts? I thank you!<br /> +They are excellent; the virtue’s gone from mine,<br /> +Nor thought I of renewing them—Indeed,<br /> +I’m unprovided, quite, for this affair.</p> +<p><i>First Lady</i>. I think the bridegroom’s come!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Don’t say so! How<br /> +You’ve made my heart jump!</p> +<p><i>First Lady</i>. As you sent for us,<br /> +A new-launched carriage drove up to the door;<br /> +The servants all in favours.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. ’Pon my life,<br /> +I never shall get through it; lend me your hand.</p> +<p>[Half rises, and throws herself back on her chair again.]</p> +<p>I must sit down again! There came just now<br /> +A feeling like to swooning over me.<br /> +I am sure before ’tis over I shall make<br /> +A fool of myself! I vow I thought not half<br /> +So much of my first wedding-day! I’ll make<br /> +An effort. Let me lean upon your arm,<br /> +And give me yours, my dear. Amelia, mind<br /> +Keep near me with the smelling-bottle.</p> +<p><i>Servant</i>. [Entering.] Madam,<br /> +The bridegroom’s come.</p> +<p>[Goes out.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. The brute has knocked me down!<br /> +To bolt it out so! I had started less<br /> +If he had fired a cannon at my ear.<br /> +How shall I ever manage to hold up<br /> +Till all is done! I’m tremor head to foot.<br /> +You can excuse me, can’t you?—Pity me!<br /> +One may feel queer upon one’s wedding-day.</p> +<p>[They go out.]</p> +<h3>SCENE THE LAST.—A Drawing-room.</h3> +<p>[Enter Servants, showing in <span class="smcap">Sir William +Fondlove</span>, <span class="smcap">Constance</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Master Wildrake</span>—Servants go out again.]</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. [Aside to <span +class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.] Good Master Wildrake, look more +cheerfully!—Come,<br /> +You do not honour to my wedding-day.<br /> +How brisk am I! My body moves on springs!<br /> +My stature gives no inch I throw away;<br /> +My supple joints play free and sportfully;<br /> +I’m every atom what a man should be.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I pray you pardon me, Sir William!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Smile, then,<br /> +And talk and rally me! I did expect,<br /> +Ere half an hour had passed, you would have put me<br /> +A dozen times to the blush. Without such things,<br /> +A bridegroom knows not his own wedding-day.<br /> +I see! Her looks are glossary to thine,<br /> +She flouts thee still, I marvel not at thee;<br /> +There’s thunder in that cloud! I would to-day<br /> +It would disperse, and gather in the morning.<br /> +I fear me much thou know’st not how to woo.<br /> +I’ll give thee a lesson. Ever there’s a way,<br /> +But knows one how to take it? Twenty men<br /> +Have courted Widow Green. Who has her now?<br /> +I sent to advertise her that to-day<br /> +I meant to marry her. She wouldn’t open<br /> +My note. And gave I up? I took the way<br /> +To make her love me! I did send, again<br /> +To pray her leave my daughter should be bridemaid.<br /> +That letter too came back. Did I give up?<br /> +I took the way to make her love me! Yet,<br /> +Again I sent to ask what church she chose<br /> +To marry at; my note came back again;<br /> +And did I yet give up? I took the way<br /> +To make her love me! All the while I found<br /> +She was preparing for the wedding. Take<br /> +A hint from me! She comes! My fluttering heart<br /> +Gives note the empress of its realms is near.<br /> +Now, Master Wildrake, mark and learn from me<br /> +How it behoves a bridegroom play his part.</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Widow Green</span>, supported by her +Bridemaids, and followed by <span class="smcap">Amelia</span>.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I cannot raise my eyes—they cannot bear<br /> +The beams of his, which, like the sun’s, I feel<br /> +Are on me, though I see them not enlightening<br /> +The heaven of his young face; nor dare I scan<br /> +The brightness of his form, which symmetry<br /> +And youth and beauty in enriching vie.<br /> +He kneels to me! Now grows my breathing thick,<br /> +As though I did await a seraph’s voice,<br /> +Too rich for mortal ear.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. My gentle bride!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Who’s that! who speaks to me?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. These transports check.<br /> +Lo, an example to mankind I set<br /> +Of amorous emprise; and who should thrive<br /> +In love, if not Love’s soldier, who doth press<br /> +The doubtful siege, and will not own repulse.<br /> +Lo, here I tender thee my fealty,<br /> +To live thy duteous slave. My queen thou art,<br /> +In frowns or smiles, to give me life or death.<br /> +Oh, deign look down upon me! In thy face<br /> +Alone I look on day; it is my sun<br /> +Most bright; the which denied, no sun doth rise.<br /> +Shine out upon me, my divinity!<br /> +My gentle Widow Green! My wife to be;<br /> +My love, my life, my drooping, blushing bride!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove, you’re a fool!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. A fool!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Why come you hither, sir, in trim like this?<br /> +Or rather why at all?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Why come I hither?<br /> +To marry thee!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. The man will drive me mad!<br /> +Sir William Fondlove, I’m but forty, sir,<br /> +And you are sixty, seventy, if a day;<br /> +At least you look it, sir. I marry you!<br /> +When did a woman wed her grandfather?</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Her brain is turned!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. You’re in your dotage, sir,<br /> +And yet a boy in vanity! But know<br /> +Yourself from me; you are old and ugly, sir.</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Do you deny you are in love with me?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. In love with thee!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. That you are jealous of me?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Jealous!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. To very lunacy.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. To hear him!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Do you forget what happened yesterday?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Sir William Fondlove!—</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Widow Green, fair play!—<br /> +Are you not laughing? Is it not a jest?<br /> +Do you believe me seventy to a day?<br /> +Do I look it? Am I old and ugly? Why,<br /> +Why do I see those favours in the hall,<br /> +These ladies dressed as bridemaids, thee as bride,<br /> +Unless to marry me?</p> +<p>[Knock.]</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. He is coming, sir,<br /> +Shall answer you for me!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Waller</span>, with Gentlemen as +Bridemen.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Where is she? What!<br /> +All that bespeaks the day, except the fair<br /> +That’s queen of it? Most kind of you to grace<br /> +My nuptials so! But that I render you<br /> +My thanks in full, make full my happiness,<br /> +And tell me where’s my bride?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. She’s here.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Where?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Here,<br /> +Fair Master Waller!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lady, do not mock me.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Mock thee! My heart is stranger to such +mood,<br /> +’Tis serious tenderness and duty all.<br /> +I pray you mock not me, for I do strive<br /> +With fears and soft emotions that require<br /> +Support. Take not away my little strength,<br /> +And leave me at the mercy of a feather.<br /> +I am thy bride! If ’tis thy happiness<br /> +To think me so, believe it, and be rich<br /> +To thy most boundless wishes! Master Waller,<br /> +I am thy waiting bride, the Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lady, no widow is the bride I seek,<br /> +But one the church has never given yet<br /> +The nuptial blessing to!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. What mean you, sir?<br /> +Why come a bridegroom here, if not to me<br /> +You sued to be your bride? Is this your hand, sir? [Showing +letter.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. It is, addressed to your fair waiting-maid.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. My waiting-maid! The laugh is passing +round,<br /> +And now the turn is yours, sir. She is gone!<br /> +Eloped! run off! and with the gentleman<br /> +That brought your billet-doux.</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Is Trueworth false?<br /> +He must be false. What madness tempted me<br /> +To trust him with such audience as I knew<br /> +Must sense, and mind, and soul of man entrance,<br /> +And leave him but the power to feel its spell!<br /> +Of his own lesson he would profit take,<br /> +And plead at once an honourable love,<br /> +Supplanting mine, less pure, reformed too late!<br /> +And if he did, what merit I, except<br /> +To lose the maid I would have wrongly won;<br /> +And, had I rightly prized her, now had worn!<br /> +I get but my deservings!</p> +<p>[Enter <span class="smcap">Trueworth</span>, leading in <span +class="smcap">Lydia</span>, richly dressed, and veiled front head to +foot.]</p> +<p>Master Trueworth,<br /> +Though for thy treachery thou hast excuse,<br /> +Thou must account for it; so much I lose!<br /> +Sir, you have wronged me to amount beyond<br /> +Acres, and gold, and life, which makes them rich.<br /> +And compensation I demand of you,<br /> +Such as a man expects, and none but one<br /> +That’s less than man refuses! Where’s the maid<br /> +You falsely did abstract?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. I took her hence,<br /> +But not by guile, nor yet enforcement, sir;<br /> +But of her free will, knowing what she did.<br /> +That, as I found, I cannot give her back,<br /> +I own her state is changed, but in her place<br /> +This maid I offer you, her image far<br /> +As feature, form, complexion, nature go!<br /> +Resemblance halting, only there, where thou<br /> +Thyself didst pause, condition, for this maid<br /> +Is gently born and generously bred.<br /> +Lo! for your fair loss, fair equivalent!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Show me another sun, another earth<br /> +I can inherit, as this Sun and Earth;<br /> +As thou didst take the maid, the maid herself<br /> +Give back! herself, her sole equivalent!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Her sole equivalent I offer you!<br /> +My sister, sir, long counted lost, now found,<br /> +Who fled her home unwelcome bands to ’scape,<br /> +Which a half-father would have forced upon her,<br /> +Taking advantage of her brother’s absence<br /> +Away on travel in a distant land!<br /> +Returned, I missed her; of the cause received<br /> +Invention, coward, false and criminating!<br /> +And gave her up for lost; but happily<br /> +Did find her yesterday—Behold her, sir!</p> +<p>[Removes veil.]</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Lydia!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. My waiting-maid!</p> +<p><i>Wal</i>. Thy sister, Trueworth!<br /> +Art thou fit brother to this virtuous maid?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. [Giving <span class="smcap">Lydia</span> to <span +class="smcap">Waller</span>.] Let this assure thee.</p> +<p><i>Lydia</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Widow Green</span>.] +Madam, pardon me<br /> +My double character, for honesty,<br /> +No other end assumed—and my concealment<br /> +Of Master Waller’s love. In all things else<br /> +I trust I may believe you hold me blameless;<br /> +At least, I’ll say for you, I should be so,<br /> +For it was pastime, madam, not a task,<br /> +To wait upon you! Little you exacted,<br /> +And ever made the most of what I did<br /> +In mere obedience to you!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Give me your hand;<br /> +No love without a little roguery.<br /> +If you do play the mistress well as maid,<br /> +You will bear off the bell! There never was<br /> +A better girl!—I have made myself a fool.<br /> +I am undone, if goes the news abroad.<br /> +My wedding dress I donned for no effect<br /> +Except to put it off! I must be married.<br /> +I’m a lost woman, if another day<br /> +I go without a husband!—What a sight<br /> +He looks by Master Waller!—Yet he is physic<br /> +I die without, so needs must gulp it down.<br /> +I’ll swallow him with what good grace I can.<br /> +Sir William Fondlove!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. Widow Green!</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. I own<br /> +I have been rude to you. Thou dost not look<br /> +So old by thirty, forty, years as I<br /> +Did say. Thou’rt far from ugly—very far!<br /> +And as I said, Sir William, once before,<br /> +Thou art a kind and right good-humoured man:<br /> +I was but angry with you! Why, I’ll tell you<br /> +At more convenient season—and you know<br /> +An angry woman heeds not what she says,<br /> +And will say anything!</p> +<p><i>Sir Wil</i>. I were unworthy<br /> +The name of man, if an apology<br /> +So gracious came off profitless, and from<br /> +A lady! Will you take me, Widow Green?</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. Hem! [Curtsies.]</p> +<p><i>True</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Wildrake</span>.] +Master Wildrake dressed to go to church!<br /> +She has acknowledged, then, she loves thee?—No?<br /> +Give me thy hand, I’ll lead thee up to her.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. ’Sdeath! what are you about? You know her +not.<br /> +She’ll brain thee!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Fear not: come along with me.<br /> +Fair Mistress Constance!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Well, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. [To <span class="smcap">Trueworth</span>.] +Mind!</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Don’t fear.<br /> +Love you not neighbour Wildrake?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Love, sir?</p> +<p><i>True</i>. Yes,<br /> +You do.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. He loves another, sir, he does!<br /> +I hate him. We were children, sir, together<br /> +For fifteen years and more; there never came<br /> +The day we did not quarrel, make it up,<br /> +Quarrel again, and make it up again:<br /> +Were never neighbours more like neighbours, sir.<br /> +Since he became a man, and I a woman,<br /> +It still has been the same; nor cared I ever<br /> +To give a frown to any other, sir.<br /> +And now to come and tell me he’s in love,<br /> +And ask me to be bridemaid to his bride!<br /> +How durst he do it, sir!—To fall in love!<br /> +Methinks at least he might have asked my leave,<br /> +Nor had I wondered had he asked myself, sir!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Then give thyself to me!</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. How! what!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Be mine,<br /> +Thou art the only maid thy neighbour loves.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. Art serious, neighbour Wildrake?</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. In the church<br /> +I’ll answer thee, if thou wilt take me; though<br /> +I neither dress, nor walk, nor dance, nor know<br /> +“The Widow Jones” from an Italian, French,<br /> +Or German air.</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. No more of that.—My hand.</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. Givest it as free as thou didst yesterday?</p> +<p><i>Con</i>. [Affecting to strike him.] Nay!</p> +<p><i>Wild</i>. I will thank it, give it how thou wilt.</p> +<p><i>W. Green</i>. A triple wedding! May the Widow Green<br /> +Obtain brief hearing e’er she quits the scene,<br /> +The Love-Chase to your kindness to commend<br /> +In favour of an old, now absent, friend!</p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE-CHASE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b572e44 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #3539 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3539) diff --git a/old/3539.txt b/old/3539.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ef9e39 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3539.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3686 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Love-Chase, by James Sheridan Knowles, +Edited by Henry Morley + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Love-Chase + + +Author: James Sheridan Knowles + +Editor: Henry Morley + +Release Date: October 8, 2007 [eBook #3539] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE-CHASE*** + + + +Transcribed from the 1887 Cassell & Co. edition David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + +THE HUNCHBACK. {1} +THE LOVE-CHASE. + + + BY + JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES + + CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED: + _LONDON_, _PARIS_, _NEW YORK & MELBOURNE_. + 1887. + + + + +THE LOVE-CHASE. + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + +(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT THE HAYMARKET, IN l837.) +_Sir William Fondlove_, an old Mr. STRICKLAND. + Baronet +_Waller_, in love with Lydia Mr. ELTON. +_Wildrake_, a Sportsman Mr. WEBSTER. +_Trueworth_, a Friend of Sir Mr HEMMINGS. + William +_Neville_, Friend to Waller Mr. WORRELL. +_Humphreys_, Friend to Waller Mr. HUTCHINGS. +_Lash_ Mr. ROSS. +_Chargewell_, a Landlord Mr. EDWARDS. +_George_, a Waiter Mr. BISHOP. +_First Lawyer_ Mr. RAY. +_Widow Green_ Mrs. GLOVER. +_Constance_, Daughter to Sir Mrs. NISBETT. + William Fondlove +_Lydia_, lady's Maid to Widow Miss VANDENHOFF. + Green +_Alice_, Housekeeper to Master Mrs. TAYLEURE. + Waller +_Phoebe_, Maid to Constance Miss WRIGHTEN. +_Amelia_ Miss GALLOT. +_First Lady_ Mrs. GALLOT. + + + +SCENE--LONDON. + + + +ACT I. + + +SCENE I.--The Lobby of an Inn. + + +[Enter CHARGEWELL, hurriedly.] + +_Charg_. What, hoa there! Hoa, sirrahs! More wine! Are the knaves +asleep? Let not our guests cool, or we shall starve the till! Good +waiting, more than viands and wine, doth help to make the +inn!--George!--Richard!--Ralph!--Where are you? + +[Enter GEORGE.] + +_George_. Here am I, sir! + +_Charg_. Have you taken in more wine to that company? + +_George_. Yes, sir. + +_Charg_. That's right. Serve them as quick as they order! A fair +company! I have seen them here before. Take care they come again. A +choice company! That Master Waller, I hear, is a fine spirit--leads the +town. Pay him much duty. A deep purse, and easy strings. + +_George_. And there is another, sir;--a capital gentleman, though from +the country. A gentleman most learned in dogs and horses! He doth talk +wondrous edification:--one Master Wildrake. I wish you could hear him, +sir. + +_Charg_. Well, well!--attend to them. Let them not cool o'er the +liquor, or their calls will grow slack. Keep feeding the fire while it +blazes, and the blaze will continue. Look to it well! + +_George_. I will, sir. + +_Charg_. And be careful, above all, that you please Master Waller. He +is a guest worth pleasing. He is a gentleman. Free order, quick pay! + +_George_. And such, I'll dare be sworn, is the other. A man of mighty +stores of knowledge--most learned in dogs and horses! Never was I so +edified by the discourse of mortal man. + +[They go out severally.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room. + + +[MASTER WALLER, MASTER WILDRAKE, MASTER TRUEWORTH, MASTER NEVILLE, and +MASTER HUMPHREYS, sitting round a table.] + +_Wal_. Well, Master Wildrake, speak you of the chase! +To hear you one doth feel the bounding steed; +You bring the hounds and game, and all to view-- +All scudding to the jovial huntsman's cheer! +And yet I pity the poor crowned deer, +And always fancy 'tis by fortune's spite, +That lordly head of his, he bears so high-- +Like Virtue, stately in calamity, +And hunted by the human, worldly hound-- +Is made to fly before the pack, that straight +Burst into song at prospect of his death. +You say their cry is harmony; and yet +The chorus scarce is music to my ear, +When I bethink me what it sounds to his; +Nor deem I sweet the note that rings the knell +Of the once merry forester! + +_Nev_. The same things +Please us or pain, according to the thought +We take of them. Some smile at their own death, +Which most do shrink from, as beast of prey +It kills to look upon. But you, who take +Such pity of the deer, whence follows it +You hunt more costly game?--the comely maid, +To wit, that waits on buxom Widow Green? + +_Hum_. The comely maid! Such term not half the sum +Of her rich beauty gives! Were rule to go +By loveliness, I knew not in the court, +Or city, lady might not fitly serve +That lady serving-maid! + +_True_. Come! your defence? +Why show you ruth where there's least argument, +Deny it where there's most? You will not plead? +Oh, Master Waller, where we use to hunt +We think the sport no crime! + +_Hum_. I give you joy, +You prosper in your chase. + +_Wal_. Not so! The maid +In simple honesty I must pronounce +A miracle of virtue, well as beauty. + +_Nev_. And well do I believe you, Master Waller; +Those know I who have ventured gift and promise +But for a minute of her ear--the boon +Of a poor dozen words spoke through a chink-- +And come off bootless, save the haughty scorn +That cast their bounties back to them again. + +_True_. That warrants her what Master Waller speaks her. +Is she so very fair? + +_Nev_. Yes, Master Trueworth; +And I believe indeed an honest maid: +But Love's the coin to market with for love, +And that knows Master Waller. On pretence +Of sneaking kindness for gay Widow Green, +He visits her, for sake of her fair maid! +To whom a glance or word avails to hint +His proper errand; and--as glimpses only +Do only serve to whet the wish to see-- +Awakens interest to hear the tale +So stintingly that's told. I know his practice-- +Luck to you, Master Waller! If you win, +You merit it, who take the way to win! + +_Wal_. Good Master Neville! + +_True_. I should laugh to see +The poacher snared!--the maid, for mistress sought, +Turn out a wife. + +_Nev_. How say you, Master Waller? +Things quite as strange have fallen! + +Wed. Impossible! + +_True_. Impossible! Most possible of things-- +If thou'rt in love! Where merit lies itself, +What matters it to want the name, which weighed, +Is not the worth of so much breath as it takes +To utter it! If, but from Nature's hand, +She is all you could expect of gentle blood, +Face, form, mien, speech; with these, what to belong +To lady more behoves--thoughts delicate, +Affections generous, and modesty-- +Perfectionating, brightening crown of all!-- +If she hath these--true titles to thy heart-- +What does she lack that's title to thy hand? +The name of lady, which is none of these, +But may belong without? Thou mightst do worse +Than marry her. Thou wouldst, undoing her, +Yea, by my mother's name, a shameful act +Most shamefully performed! + +_Wal_. [Starting up and drawing.] Sir! + +_Nev_. [And the others, interposing.] Gentlemen! + +_True_. All's right! Sit down!--I will not draw again. +A word with you: If--as a man--thou sayest, +Upon thy honour, I have spoken wrong, +I'll ask thy pardon!--though I never hold +Communion with thee more! + +_Wal_. [After a pause, putting up his sword.] +My sword is sheathed? +Wilt let me take thy hand? + +_True_. 'Tis thine, good sir, +And faster than before--A fault confessed +Is a new virtue added to a man! +Yet let me own some blame was mine. A truth +May be too harshly told--but 'tis a theme +I am tender on--I had a sister, sir, +You understand me!--'Twas my happiness +To own her once--I would forget her now!-- +I have forgotten!--I know not if she lives!-- +Things of such strain as we were speaking of, +Spite of myself, remind me of her!--So!-- + +_Nev_. Sit down! Let's have more wine. + +_Wild_. Not so, good sirs. +Partaking of your hospitality, +I have overlooked good friends I came to visit, +And who have late become sojourners here-- +Old country friends and neighbours, and with whom +I e'en take up my quarters. Master Trueworth, +Bear witness for me. + +_True_. It is even so. +Sir William Fondlove and his charming daughter. + +_Wild_. Ay, neighbour Constance. Charming, does he say? +Yes, neighbour Constance is a charming girl +To those that do not know her. If she plies me +As hard as was her custom in the country, +I should not wonder though, this very day, +I seek the home I quitted for a month! [Aside.] + +Good even, gentlemen. + +_Hum_. Nay, if you go, +We all break up, and sally forth together. + +_Wal_. Be it so--Your hand again, good Master Trueworth! +I am sorry I did pain you. + +_True_. It is thine, sir. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's House.--A Room. + + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +_Sir Wil_. At sixty-two, to be in leading-strings, +Is an old child--and with a daughter, too! +Her mother held me ne'er in check so strait +As she. I must not go but where she likes, +Nor see but whom she likes, do anything +But what she likes!--A slut bare twenty-one! +Nor minces she commands! A brigadier +More coolly doth not give his orders out +Than she! Her waiting-maid is aide-de-camp; +My steward adjutant; my lacqueys serjeants; +That bring me her high pleasure how I march +And counter-march--when I'm on duty--when +I'm off--when suits it not to tell it me +Herself--"Sir William, thus my mistress says!" +As saying it were enough--no will of mine +Consulted! I will marry. Must I serve, +Better a wife, my mistress, than a daughter! +And yet the vixen says, if I do marry, +I'll find she'll rule my wife, as well as me! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Ah, Master Trueworth! Welcome, Master Trueworth! + +_True_. Thanks, sir; I am glad to see you look so well! + +_Sir Wil_. Ah, Master Trueworth, when one turns the hill, +'Tis rapid going down! We climb by steps; +By strides we reach the bottom. Look at me, +And guess my age. + +_True_. Turned fifty. + +_Sir Wil_. Ten years more! +How marvellously well I wear! I think +You would not flatter me!--But scan me close, +And pryingly, as one who seeks a thing +He means to find--What signs of age dost see? + +_True_. None! + +_Sir Wil_. None about the corners of the eyes? +Lines that diverge like to the spider's joists, +Whereon he builds his airy fortalice? +They call them crow's feet--has the ugly bird +Been perching there?--Eh?--Well? + +_True_. There's something like, +But not what one must see, unless he's blind +Like steeple on a hill! + +_Sir Wil_. [After a pause.] Your eyes are good! +I am certainly a wonder for my age; +I walk as well as ever! Do I stoop? + +_True_. A plummet from your head would find your heel. + +_Sir Wil_. It is my make--my make, good Master Trueworth; +I do not study it. Do you observe +The hollow in my back? That's natural. +As now I stand, so stood I when a child, +A rosy, chubby boy!--I am youthful to +A miracle! My arm is firm as 'twas +At twenty. Feel it! + +_True_. [Feeling SIR WILLIAM'S arm.] It is deal! + +_Sir Wil_. Oak--oak, +Isn't it, Master Trueworth? Thou hast known me +Ten years and upwards. Thinkest my leg is shrunk? + +_True_. No. + +_Sir Wil_. No! not in the calf? + +_True_. As big a calf +As ever! + +_Sir Wil_. Thank you, thank you--I believe it! +When others waste, 'tis growing-time with me! +I feel it, Master Trueworth! Vigour, sir, +In every joint of me--could run!--could leap! +Why shouldn't I marry? Knife and fork I play +Better than many a boy of twenty-five-- +Why shouldn't I marry? If they come to wine, +My brace of bottles can I carry home, +And ne'er a headache. Death! why shouldn't I marry? + +_True_. I see in nature no impediment. + +_Sir Wil_. Impediment? She's all appliances!-- +And fortune's with me, too! The Widow Green +Gives hints to me. The pleasant Widow Green +Whose fortieth year, instead of autumn, brings, +A second summer in. Odds bodikins, +How young she looks! What life is in her eyes! +What ease is in her gait!--while, as she walks, +Her waist, still tapering, takes it pliantly! +How lollingly she bears her head withal: +On this side now--now that! When enters she +A drawing-room, what worlds of gracious things +Her curtsey says!--she sinks with such a sway, +Greeting on either hand the company, +Then slowly rises to her state again! +She is the empress of the card-table! +Her hand and arm!--Gods, did you see her deal-- +With curved and pliant wrist dispense the pack, +Which, at the touch of her fair fingers fly! +How soft she speaks--how very soft! Her voice +Comes melting from her round and swelling throat, +Reminding you of sweetest, mellowest things-- +Plums, peaches, apricots, and nectarines-- +Whose bloom is poor to paint her cheeks and lips. +By Jove, I'll marry! + +_True_. You forget, Sir William, +I do not know the lady. + +_Sir Wil_. Great your loss. +By all the gods I'll marry!--but my daughter +Must needs be married first. She rules my house; +Would rule it still, and will not have me wed. +A clever, handsome, darling, forward minx! +When I became a widower, the reins +Her mother dropped she caught,--a hoyden girl; +Nor, since, would e'er give up; howe'er I strove +To coax or catch them from her. One way still +Or t'other she would keep them--laugh, pout, plead; +Now vanquish me with water, now with fire; +Would box my face, and, ere I well could ope +My mouth to chide her, stop it with a kiss! +The monkey! What a plague she's to me! How +I love her! how I love the Widow Green! + +_True_. Then marry her! + +_Sir Wil_. I tell thee, first of all +Must needs my daughter marry. See I not +A hope of that; she nought affects the sex: +Comes suitor after suitor--all in vain. +Fast as they bow she curtsies, and says, "Nay!" +Or she, a woman, lacks a woman's heart, +Or hath a special taste which none can hit. + +_True_. Or taste, perhaps, which is already hit. + +_Sir Wil_. Eh!--how? + +_True_. Remember you no country friend, +Companion of her walks--her squire to church, +Her beau whenever she went visiting-- +Before she came to town? + +_Sir Wil_. No! + +_True_. None?--art sure? +No playmate when she was a girl? + +_Sir Wil_. O! ay! +That Master Wildrake, I did pray thee go +And wait for at the inn; but had forgotten. +Is he come? + +_True_. And in the house. Some friends that met him, +As he alighted, laid strong hands upon Him, +And made him stop for dinner. We had else +Been earlier with you. + +_Sir Wil_. Ha! I am glad he is come. + +_True_. She may be smit with him. + +_Sir Wil_. As cat with dog! + +_True_. He heard her voice as we did mount the stairs, +And darted straight to join her. + +_Sir Wil_. You shall see +What wondrous calm and harmony take place, +When fire meets gunpowder! + +_Con_. [Without.] Who sent for you? +What made you come? + +_Wild_. [Without.] To see the town, not you! A kiss! + +_Con_. I vow I'll not. + +_Wild_. I swear you shall. + +_Con_. A saucy cub! I vow, I had as lief +Your whipper-in had kissed me. + +_Sir Wil_. Do you hear? + +_True_. I do. Most pleasing discords! + +[Enter CONSTANCE and WILDRAKE.] + +_Con_. Father, speak +To neighbour Wildrake! + +_Sir Wil_. Very glad to see him! + +_Wild_. I thank you, good Sir William! Give you joy +Of your good looks! + +_Con_. What, Phoebe!--Phoebe!--Phoebe! + +_Sir Wil_. What wantest thou with thy lap-dog? + +_Con_. Only, sir, +To welcome neighbour Wildrake! What a figure +To show himself in town! + +_Sir Wil_. Wilt hold thy peace? + +_Con_. Yes; if you'll lesson me to hold my laughter! +Wildrake. + +_Wild_. Well? + +_Con_. Let me walk thee in the Park-- +How they would stare at thee! + +_Sir Wil_. Wilt ne'er give o'er? + +_Wild_. Nay, let her have her way--I heed her not! +Though to more courteous welcome I have right; +Although I am neighbour Wildrake! Reason is reason! + +_Con_. And right is right! so welcome, neighbour Wildrake, +I am very, very, very glad to see you! +Come, for a quarter of an hour we'll e'en +Agree together! How do your horses, neighbour? + +_Wild_. Pshaw! + +_Con_. And your dogs? + +_Wild_. Pshaw! + +_Con_. Whipper-in and huntsman? + +_Sir Wil_. Converse of things thou knowest to talk about! + +_Con_. And keep him silent, father, when I know +He cannot talk of any other things? +How does thy hunter? What a sorry trick +He played thee t'other day, to balk his leap +And throw thee, neighbour! Did he balk the leap? +Confess! You sportsmen never are to blame! +Say you are fowlers, 'tis your dog's in fault! +Say you are anglers, 'tis your tackle's wrong; +Say you are hunters, why the honest horse +That bears your weight, must bear your blunders too! +Why, whither go you? + +_Wild_. Anywhere from thee. + +_Con_. With me you mean. + +_Wild_. I mean it not. + +_Con_. You do! +I'll give you fifty reasons for't--and first, +Where you go, neighbour, I'll go! + +[They go out--WILDRAKE, pettishly--CONSTANCE laughing.] + +_Sir Wil_. Do you mark? +Much love is there! + +_True_. Indeed, a heap, or none! +I'd wager on the heap! + +_Sir Wil_. Ay!--Do you think +These discords, as in the musicians' art, +Are subtle servitors to harmony? +That all this war's for peace? This wrangling but +A masquerade where love his roguish face +Conceals beneath an ugly visor!--Well? + +_True_. Your guess and my conceit are not a mile +Apart. Unlike to other common flowers, +The flower of love shews various in the bud; +'Twill look a thistle, and 'twill blow a rose! +And with your leave I'll put it to the test; +Affect myself, for thy fair daughter, love-- +Make him my confidant--dilate to him +Upon the graces of her heart and mind, +Feature and form--that well may comment bear-- +Till--like the practised connoisseur, who finds +A gem of heart out in a household picture +The unskilled owner held so cheap he grudged +Renewal of the chipped and tarnished frame, +But values now as priceless--I arouse him +Into a quick sense of the worth of that +Whose merit hitherto, from lack of skill, +Or dulling habit of acquaintanceship, +He has not been awake to. + +_Con_. [Without.] Neighbour Wildrake! + +_Sir Wil_. Hither they come. I fancy well thy game! +O to be free to marry Widow Green! +I'll call her hence anon--then ply him well. + +[SIR WILLIAM goes out.] + +_Wild_. [Without.] Nay, neighbour Constance! + +_True_. He is high in storm. + +[Enter WILDRAKE and CONSTANCE.] + +_Wild_. To Lincolnshire, I tell thee. + +_Con_. Lincolnshire! +What, prithee, takes thee off to Lincolnshire? + +_Wild_. Too great delight in thy fair company. + +_True_. Nay, Master Wildrake, why away so soon? +You are scarce a day in town!--Extremes like this, +And starts of purpose, are the signs of love. +Though immatured as yet. [Aside.] + +_Con_. He's long enough +In town! What should he here? He's lost in town: +No man is he for concerts, balls, or routs! +No game he knows at cards, save rare Pope Joan! +He ne'er could master dance beyond a jig; +And as for music, nothing to compare +To the melodious yelping of a hound, +Except the braying of his huntsman's horn! +Ask _him_ to stay in town! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Hoa, Constance! + +_Con_. Sir!-- +Neighbour, a pleasant ride to Lincolnshire! +Good-bye! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Why, Constance! + +_Con_. Coming, sir. Shake hands! +Neighbour, good-bye! Don't look so woe-begone; +'Tis but a two-days' ride, and thou wilt see +Rover, and Spot, and Nettle, and the rest +Of thy dear country friends! + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Constance! I say. + +_Con_. Anon!--Commend me to the gentle souls, +And pat them for me!--Will you, neighbour Wildrake? + +_Sir Wil_. [Without.] Why, Constance! Constance! + +_Con_. In a moment, sir! +Good-bye!--I'd cry, dear neighbour--if I could! +Good-bye!--A pleasant day when next you hunt! +And, prithee, mind thy horse don't balk his leap! +Good-bye!--and, after dinner, drink my health! +"A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!"--Do!-- +And give it with a speech, wherein unfold +My many graces, more accomplishments, +And virtues topping either--in a word, +How I'm the fairest, kindest, best of neighbours! + +[They go out severally.--TRUEWORTH trying to pacify WILDRAKE--CONSTANCE +laughing.] + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William's House. + + +[Enter TRUEWORTH and WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone! +She treats me worse and worse! I am a stock, +That words have none to pay her. For her sake +I quit the town to-day. I like a jest, +But hers are jests past bearing. I am her butt, +She nothing does but practise on! A plague!-- +Fly her shafts ever your way? + +_True_. Would they did! + +_Wild_. Art mad?--or wishest she should drive thee so? + +_True_. Thou knowest her not. + +_Wild_. I know not neighbour Constance? +Then know I not myself, or anything +Which as myself I know! + +_True_. Heigh ho! + +_Wild_. Heigh ho! +Why what a burden that for a man's song! +Would fit a maiden that was sick for love. +Heigh ho! Come ride with me to Lincolnshire, +And turn thy "Heigh ho!" into "hilly ho!" + +_True_. Nay, rather tarry thou in town with me. +Men sometimes find a friend's hand of avail, +When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me thine? + +_Wild_. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase! + +_True_. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of that? +I'm for the steeple--not to ride a race, +Only to get there!--nor alone, in sooth, +But in fair company. + +_Wild_. Thou'rt not in love! + +_True_. Heigh ho! + +_Wild_. Thou wouldst not marry! + +_True_. With your help. + +_Wild_. And whom, I prithee? + +_True_. Gentle Mistress Constance! + +_Wild_. What!--neighbour Constance?--Never did I dream +That mortal man would fall in love with her. [Aside.] +In love with neighbour Constance!--I feel strange +At thought that she should marry!--[Aside.] Go to church +With neighbour Constance! That's a steeple-chase +I never thought of. I feel very strange! +What seest in neighbour Constance? + +_True_. Lovers' eyes +See with a vision proper to themselves; +Yet thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm. +First, then, I see in her the mould express +Of woman--stature, feature, body, limb-- +Breathing the gentle sex we value most, +When most 'tis at antipodes with ours! + +_Wild_. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman. +Why, yes; she is a woman, certainly. + +_True_. So much for person. Now for her complexion. +What shall we liken to her dainty skin? +Her arm, for instance?-- + +_Wild_. Snow will match it. + +_True_. Snow! +It is her arm without the smoothness on't; +Then is not snow transparent. 'Twill not do. + +_Wild_. A pearl's transparent! + +_True_. So it is, but yet +Yields not elastic to the thrilled touch! +I know not what to liken to her arm +Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be +The chosen friend of two such neighbours! + +_Wild_. Would +His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free +With neighbour Constance! Can't he let her arms +Alone! I trust their chosen friend +Will ne'er be he! I'm vexed. [Aside.] + +_True_. But graceful things +Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use! +Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room? + +_Wild_. [Snappishly.] No. + +_True_. No! Why, where have been your eyes? + +_Wild_. In my head! +But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.] + +_True_. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which +She floats as though she were a form of air; +The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't; +Her movements are the painting of the strain, +Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness! +Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment +Another one, and each, except its fellow, +Without a peer! You have danced with her! + +_Wild_. I hate +To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course +You have danced with her? + +_True_. I have. + +_Wild_. You have? + +_True_. I have. + +_Wild_. I do abominate to dance!--could carve +Fiddlers and company! A dancing man +To me was ever like a dancing dog! +Save less to be endured.--Ne'er saw I one +But I bethought me of the master's whip. + +_True_. A man might bear the whip to dance with her! + +_Wild_. Not if I had the laying of it on! + +_True_. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme. + +_Wild_. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.] + +_True_. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp! +How well she sings to them! Whoe'er would prove +The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing, +Especially a love-song! + +_Wild_. Does she sing +Such songs to thee? + +_True_. Oh, yes, and constantly. +For such I ever ask her. + +_Wild_. Forward minx! [Aside.] +Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen! +Think'st neighbour Constance is a girl to love? + +_True_. A girl to love?--Ay, and with all her soul! + +_Wild_. How know you that? + +_True_. I have studied close the sex. + +_Wild_. You town-rakes are the devil for the sex! [Aside.] + +_True_. Not your most sensitive and serious maid +I'd always take for deep impressions. Mind +The adage of the bow. The pensive brow +I have oft seen bright in wedlock, and anon +O'ercast in widowhood; then, bright again. +Ere half the season of the weeds was out; +While, in the airy one, I have known one cloud +Forerunner of a gloom that ne'er cleared up-- +So would it prove with neighbour Constance. Not +On superficial grounds she'll ever love; +But once she does, the odds are ten to one +Her first love is her last! + +_Wild_. I wish I ne'er +Had come to town! I was a happy man +Among my dogs and horses. [Aside.] Hast thou broke +Thy passion to her? + +_True_. Never. + +_Wild_. Never? + +_True_. No. +I hoped you'd act my proxy there. + +_Wild_. I thank you. + +_True_. I knew 'twould be a pleasure to you. + +_Wild_. Yes; +A pleasure!--an unutterable pleasure! + +_True_. Thank you! You make my happiness your own. + +_Wild_. I do. + +_True_. I see you do. Dear Master Wildrake! +Oh, what a blessing is a friend in need! +You'll go and court your neighbour for me? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_True_. And says she "nay" at first, you'll press again? + +_Wild_. Ay, and again! + +_True_. There's one thing I mistrust--yea, most mistrust, +That of my poor deserts you'll make too much. + +_Wild_. Fear anything but that. + +_True_. 'Twere better far +You slightly spoke of them. + +_Wild_. You think so? + +_True_. Yes. +Or rather did not speak of them at all. + +_Wild_. You think so? + +_True_. Yes. + +_Wild_. Then I'll not say a word +About them. + +_True_. Thank you! A judicious friend +Is better than a zealous: you are both! +I see you'll plead my cause as 'twere your own; +Then stay in town, and win your neighbour for me; +Make me the envy of a score of men +That die for her as I do. Make her mine, +And when the last "Amen!" declares complete +The mystic tying of the holy knot, +And 'fore the priest a blushing wife she stands, +Be thine the right to claim the second kiss +She pays for change from maidenhood to wifehood. + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. Take that thyself! The first be mine, or none! +A man in love with neighbour Constance! Never +Dreamed I that such a thing could come to pass! +Such person, such endowments, such a soul! +I never thought to ask myself before +If she were man or woman! Suitors, too, +Dying for her! I'll e'en make one among 'em! +Woo her to go to church along with him, +And for my pains the privilege to take +The second kiss? I'll take the second kiss, +And first one too--and last! No man shall touch +Her lips but me. I'll massacre the man +That looks upon her! Yet what chance have I +With lovers of the town, whose study 'tis +To please your lady belles!--who dress, walk, talk, +To hit their tastes--what chance, a country squire +Like me? Yet your true fair, I have heard, prefers +The man before his coat at any time; +And such a one may neighbour Constance be. +I'll show a limb with any of them! Silks +I'll wear, nor keep my legs in cases more. +I'll learn to dance town-dances, and frequent +Their concerts! Die away at melting strains, +Or seem to do so--far the easier thing, +And as effective quite; leave naught undone +To conquer neighbour Constance. + +[Enter LASH.] + +_Lash_. Sir. + +_Wild_. Well, sir? + +_Lash_. So please you, sir, your horse is at the door. + +_Wild_. Unsaddle him again and put him up. +And, hark you, get a tailor for me, sir-- +The rarest can be found. + +_Lash_. The man's below, sir, +That owns the mare your worship thought to buy. + +_Wild_. Tell him I do not want her, sir. + +_Lash_. I vow +You will not find her like in Lincolnshire. + +_Wild_. Go to! She's spavined. + +_Lash_. Sir! + +_Wild_. Touched in the wind. + +_Lash_. I trust my master be not touched in the head! +I vow, a faultless beast! [Aside.] + +_Wild_. I want her not, +And that's your answer. Go to the hosier's, sir, +And bid him send me samples of his gear, +Of twenty different kinds. + +_Lash_. I will, sir.--Sir! + +_Wild_. Well, sir. + +_Lash_. Squire Brush's huntsman's here, and says +His master's kennel is for sale. + +_Wild_. The dogs +Are only fit for hanging!-- + +_Lash_. Finer bred-- + +_Wild_. Sirrah, if more to me thou talkest of dogs, +Horses, or aught that to thy craft belongs, +Thou mayst go hang for me!--A cordwainer +Go fetch me straight--the choicest in the town. +Away, sir! Do thy errands smart and well +As thou canst crack thy whip! [LASH goes out.] +Dear neighbour Constance, +I'll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II. + + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN and LYDIA.] + +_W. Green_. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller calls, +I shall be in at three; and say the same +To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet!-- +What progress, think you, make I in the heart +Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl, +It is a heart to win and man as well! +How speed I, think you? Didst, as I desired, +Detain him in my absence when he called, +And, without seeming, sound him touching me? + +_Lydia_. Yes. + +_W. Green_. And effects he me, or not? How guess you? +What said he of me? Looked he balked, or not, +To find me not at home? Inquired he when +I would be back, as much he longed to see me? +What did he--said he? Come!--Is he in love, +Or like to fall into it? Goes well my game, +Or shall I have my labour for my pains? + +_Lydia_. I think he is in love.--O poor evasion! +O to love truth, and yet not dare to speak it! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. You think he is in love--I'm sure of it. +As well have asked you has he eyes and ears, +And brain and heart to use them? Maids do throw +Trick after trick away, but widows know +To play their cards! How am I looking, Lydia? + +_Lydia_. E'en as you ever look. + +_W. Green_. Handsome, my girl? +Eh? Clear in my complexion? Eh?--brimful +Of spirits? not too much of me, nor yet +Too little?--Eh?--A woman worth a man? +Look at me, Lydia! Would you credit, girl, +I was a scarecrow before marriage? + +_Lydia_. Nay!-- + +_W. Green_. Girl, but I tell thee "yea." That gown of thine-- +And thou art slender--would have hung about me! +There's something of me now! good sooth, enough! +Lydia, I'm quite contented with myself; +I'm just the thing, methinks, a widow should be. +So, Master Waller, you believe, affects me? +But, Lydia, not enough to hook the fish; +To prove the angler's skill, it must be caught; +And lovers, Lydia, like the angler's prey-- +Which, when he draws it near the landing-place, +Takes warning and runs out the slender line, +And with a spring perchance jerks off the hold +When we do fish for them, and hook, and think +They are all but in the creel, will make the dart +That sets them free to roam the flood again! + +_Lydia_. Is't so? + +_W. Green_. Thou'lt find it so, or better luck +Than many another maid! Now mark me, Lydia: +Sir William Fondlove fancies me. 'Tis well! +I do not fancy him! What should I do +With an old man?--Attend upon the gout, +Or the rheumatics! Wrap me in the cloud +Of a darkened chamber--'stead of shining out, +The sun of balls, and routs, and gala-days! +But he affects me, Lydia; so he may! +Now take a lesson from me--Jealousy +Had better go with open, naked breast, +Than pin or button with a gem. Less plague, +The plague-spot; that doth speedy make an end +One way or t'other, girl. Yet, never love +Was warm without a spice of jealousy. +Thy lesson now--Sir William Fondlove's rich, +And riches, though they're paste, yet being many, +The jewel love we often cast away for. +I use him but for Master Waller's sake. +Dost like my policy? + +_Lydia_. You will not chide me? + +_W. Green_. Nay, Lydia, I do like to hear thy thoughts, +They are such novel things--plants that do thrive +With country air! I marvel still they flower, +And thou so long in town! Speak freely, girl! + +_Lydia_. I cannot think love thrives by artifice, +Or can disguise its mood, and show its face. +I would not hide one portion of my heart +Where I did give it and did feel 'twas right, +Nor feign a wish, to mask a wish that was, +Howe'er to keep it. For no cause except +Myself would I be loved. What were't to me, +My lover valued me the more, the more +He saw me comely in another's eyes, +When his alone the vision I would show +Becoming to? I have sought the reason oft, +They paint Love as a child, and still have thought, +It was because true love, like infancy, +Frank, trusting, unobservant of its mood, +Doth show its wish at once, and means no more! + +_W. Green_. Thou'lt find out better when thy time doth come. +Now wouldst believe I love not Master Waller? +I never knew what love was, Lydia; +That is, as your romances have it. First, +I married for a fortune. Having that, +And being freed from him that brought it me, +I marry now, to please my vanity, +A man that is the fashion. O the delight +Of a sensation, and yourself the cause! +To note the stir of eyes, and ears, and tongues, +When they do usher Mistress Waller in, +Late Widow Green, her hand upon the arm +Of her young, handsome husband!--How my fan +Will be in requisition--I do feel +My heart begin to flutter now--my blood +To mount into my cheek! My honeymoon +Will be a month of triumphs!--"Mistress Waller!" +That name, for which a score of damsels sigh, +And but the widow had the wit to win! +Why, it will be the talk of east to west, +And north and south!--The children loved the man, +And lost him so--I liked, but there I stopped; +For what is it to love, but mind and heart +And soul upon another to depend? +Depend upon another? Nothing be +But what another wills? Give up the rights +Of mine own brain and heart? I thank my stars +I never came to that extremity. + +[Goes out.] + +_Lydia_. She never loved, indeed! She knows not love, +Except what's told of it! She never felt it. +To stem a torrent, easy, looking at it; +But once you venture in, you nothing know +Except the speed with which you're borne away, +Howe'er you strive to check it. She suspects not +Her maid, not she, brings Master Waller hither. +Nor dare I undeceive her. Well might she say +Her young and handsome husband! Yet his face +And person are the least of him, and vanish +When shines his soul out through his open eye! +He all but says he loves me! His respect +Has vanquished me! He looks the will to speak +His passion, and the fear that ties his tongue-- +The fear? He loves not honestly, and yet +I'll swear he loves--I'll swear he honours me! +It is but my condition is a bar, +Denies him give me all. But knew he me +As I do know myself! Whate'er his purpose, +When next we speak, he shall declare it to me. + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE, dressed for riding, and PHOEBE.] + +_Con_. Well, Phoebe, would you know me? Are those locks +That cluster on my forehead and my cheek, +Sufficient mask? Show I what I would seem, +A lady for the chase? My darkened brows +And heightened colour, foreign to my face, +Do they my face pass off for stranger too? +What think you? + +_Phoebe_. That he'll ne'er discover you. + +_Con_. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants +To speak with him, unless indeed it be +A man in lady's gear; I look so bold +And speak so gruff. Away! [PHOEBE goes out.] That I am glad +He stays in town, I own, but if I am, +'Tis only for the tricks I'll play upon him, +And now begin, persuading him his fame +Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither +On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot! +_This_ he? Why, what has metamorphosed him. +And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman? +Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder, +Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air +The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands. + +_Con_. My veiled face denies me justice, sir, +Else would you see a maiden's blushing cheek +Do penance for her forwardness; too late, +I own, repented of. Yet if 'tis true, +By our own hearts of others we may judge, +Mine in no peril lies that's shown to you, +Whose heart, I'm sure, is noble. Worthy sir, +Souls attract souls when they're of kindred vein. +The life that you love, I love. Well I know, +'Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase, +You stand without a peer; and for myself +I dare avow 'mong such, none follows them +With heartier glee than I do. + +_Wild_. Churl were he +That would gainsay you, madam. + +_Con_. [Curtseying.] What delight +To back the flying steed, that challenges +The wind for speed!--seems native more of air +Than earth!--whose burden only lends him fire!-- +Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport; +Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now! +He takes away my breath! He makes me reel! +I touch not earth--I see not--hear not. All +Is ecstasy of motion! + +_Wild_. You are used, +I see, to the chase. + +_Con_. I am, sir. Then the leap, +To see the saucy barrier, and know +The mettle that can clear it! Then, your time +To prove you master of the manege. Now +You keep him well together for a space, +Both horse and rider braced as you were one, +Scanning the distance--then you give him rein, +And let him fly at it, and o'er he goes +Light as a bird on wing. + +_Wild_. 'Twere a bold leap, +I see, that turned you, madam. + +_Con_. [Curtseying.] Sir, you're good! +And then the hounds, sir! Nothing I admire +Beyond the running of the well-trained pack. +The training's everything! Keen on the scent! +At fault none losing heart!--but all at work! +None leaving his task to another!--answering +The watchful huntsman's cautions, check, or cheer. +As steed his rider's rein! Away they go +How close they keep together! What a pack! +Nor turn, nor ditch, nor stream divides them--as +They moved with one intelligence, act, will! +And then the concert they keep up!--enough +To make one tenant of the merry wood, +To list their jocund music! + +_Wild_. You describe +The huntsman's pastime to the life. + +_Con_. I love it! +To wood and glen, hamlet and town, it is +A laughing holiday! Not a hill-top +But's then alive! Footmen with horsemen vie, +All earth's astir, roused with the revelry +Of vigour, health, and joy! Cheer awakes cheer, +While Echo's mimic tongue, that never tires, +Keeps up the hearty din! Each face is then +Its neighbour's glass--where Gladness sees itself, +And at the bright reflection grows more glad! +Breaks into tenfold mirth!--laughs like a child! +Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free! +Would scarce accept a kingdom, 'tis so rich! +Shakes hands with all, and vows it never knew +That life was life before! + +_Wild_. Nay, every way +You do fair justice, lady, to the chase; +But fancies change. + +_Con_. Such fancy is not mine. + +_Wild_. I would it were not mine, for your fair sake. +I have quite given o'er the chase. + +_Con_. You say not so! + +_Wild_. Forsworn, indeed, the sportsman's life, and grown, +As you may partly see, town-gentleman. +I care not now to mount a steed, unless +To amble 'long the street; no paces mind, +Except my own, to walk the drawing-room, +Or in the ball-room to come off with grace; +No leap for me, to match the light coupe; +No music like the violin and harp, +To which the huntsman's dog and horn I find +Are somewhat coarse and homely minstrelsy: +Then fields of ill-dressed rustics, you'll confess, +Are well exchanged for rooms of beaux and belles +In short, I've ta'en another thought of life-- +Become another man! + +_Con_. The cause, I pray? + +_Wild_. The cause of causes, lady. + +_Con_. He's in love! [Aside.] + +_Wild_. To you, of women, I would name it last; +Yet your frank bearing merits like return; +I, that did hunt the game, am caught myself +In chase I never dreamed of! + +[Goes out.] + +_Con_. He is in love! +Wildrake's in love! 'Tis that keeps him in town, +Turns him from sportsman to town-gentleman. +I never dreamed that he could be in love! +In love with whom?--I'll find the vixen out! +What right has she to set her cap at him? +I warrant me, a forward, artful minx; +I hate him worse than ever. I'll do all +I can to spoil the match. He'll never marry-- +Sure he will never marry! He will have +More sense than that! My back doth ope and shut-- +My temples throb and shoot--I am cold and hot! +Were he to marry, there would be an end +To neighbour Constance--neighbour Wildrake--why, +I should not know myself! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Dear Master Trueworth, +What think you!--neighbour Wildrake is in love! +In love! Would you believe it, Master Trueworth? +Ne'er heed my dress and looks, but answer me. +Knowest thou of any lady he has seen +That's like to cozen him? + +_True_. I am not sure-- +We talked to-day about the Widow Green! + +_Con_. Her that my father fancies. Let him wed her! +Marry her to-morrow--if he will, to-night. +I can't spare neighbour Wildrake--neighbour Wildrake! +Although I would not marry him myself, +I could not hear that other married him! +Go to my father--'tis a proper match! +He has my leave! He's welcome to bring home +The Widow Green. I'll give up house and all! +She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake; +He would wear out her patience--plague her to death, +As he does me. She must not marry him! + +[They go out.] + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Widow Green's. + + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, following LYDIA.] + +_Wal_. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia. +Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself! +Thy own perfections 'tis that talk to thee. +Thy beauty rich!--thy richer grace!--thy mind, +More rich again than that, though richest each! +Except for these, I had no tongue for thee, +Eyes for thee!--ears!--had never followed thee!-- +Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me!-- + +_Lydia_. Love +Should seek its match. No match am I for thee. + +_Wal_. Right! Love should seek its match; and that is, love +Or nothing! Station--fortune--find their match +In things resembling them. They are not love! +Comes love (that subtle essence, without which +Life were but leaden dulness!--weariness! +A plodding trudger on a heavy road!) +Comes it of title-deeds which fools may boast? +Or coffers vilest hands may hold the keys of? +Or that ethereal lamp that lights the eyes +To shed the sparkling lustre o'er the face, +Gives to the velvet skin its blushing glow, +And burns as bright beneath the peasant's roof +As roof of palaced prince? Yes, Love should seek +Its match--then give my love its match in thine, +Its match which in thy gentle breast doth lodge +So rich--so earthly, heavenly fair and rich, +As monarchs have no thought of on their thrones, +Which kingdoms do bear up. + +_Lydia_. Wast thou a monarch, +Me wouldst thou make thy queen? + +_Wal_. I would. + +_Lydia_. What! Pass +A princess by for me? + +_Wal_. I would. + +_Lydia_. Suppose +Thy subjects would prevent thee? + +_Wal_. Then, in spite +Of them! + +_Lydia_. Suppose they were too strong for thee? + +_Wal_. Why, then I'd give them up my throne--content +With that thou'dst yield me in thy gentle breast. + +_Lydia_. Can subjects do what monarchs do? + +_Wal_. Far more! +Far less! + +_Lydia_. Among those things, where more their power, +Is marriage one? + +_Wal_. Yes. + +_Lydia_. And no part of love, +You say, is rank or wealth? + +_Wal_. No part of love. + +_Lydia_. Is marriage part of love? + +_Wal_. At times it is, +At times is not. Men love and marry--love +And marry not. + +_Lydia_. Then have they not the power; +So must they hapless part with those they love. + +_Wal_. Oh, no! not part! How could they love and part? + +_Lydia_. How could they love not part, not free to wed? + +_Wal_. Alone in marriage doth not union lie! + +_Lydia_. Alone where hands are free! O yes--alone! +Love that is love, bestoweth all it can! +It is protection, if 'tis anything, +Which nothing in its object leaves exposed +Its care can shelter. Love that's free to wed, +Not wedding, but profanes the name of love; +Which is, on high authority to Earth's, +For Heaven did sit approving at its feast, +A holy thing! Why make you love to me? +Women whose hearts are free, by nature tender, +Their fancies hit by those they are besought by, +Do first impressions quickly--deeply take; +And, balked in their election, have been known +To droop a whole life through! Gain for a maid, +A broken heart!--to barter her young love, +And find she changed it for a counterfeit! + +_Wal_. If there is truth in man, I love thee! Hear me! +In wedlock, families claim property. +Old notions, which we needs must humour often, +Bar us to wed where we are forced to love! +Thou hear'st? + +_Lydia_. I do. + +_Wal_. My family is proud; +Our ancestor, whose arms we bear, did win +An earldom by his deeds. 'Tis not enough +I please myself! I must please others, who +Desert in wealth and station only see. +Thou hear'st? + +_Lydia_. I do. + +_Wal_. I cannot marry thee, +And must I lose thee? Do not turn away! +Without the altar I can honour thee! +Can cherish thee, nor swear it to the priest; +For more than life I love thee! + +_Lydia_. Say thou hatest me, +And I'll believe thee! Wherein differs love +From hate, to do the work of hate--destroy? +Thy ancestor won title to his deeds! +Was one of them, to teach an honest maid +The deed of sin--first steal her love, and then +Her virtue? If thy family is proud, +Mine, sir, is worthy! if we are poor, the lack +Of riches, sir, is not the lack of shame, +That I should act a part, would raise a blush, +Nor fear to burn an honest brother's cheek! +Thou wouldest share a throne with me! Thou wouldst rob me of +A throne!--reduce me from dominion to +Base vassalage!--pull off my crown for me, +And give my forehead in its place a brand! +You have insulted me. To shew you, sir, +The heart you make so light of, you are beloved-- +But she that tells you so, tells you beside +She ne'er beholds you more! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wal_. Stay, Lydia!--No! +'Tis vain! She is in virtue resolute, +As she is bland and tender in affection. +She is a miracle, beholding which +Wonder doth grow on wonder! What a maid! +No mood but doth become her--yea, adorn her. +She turns unsightly anger into beauty! +Sour scorn grows sweetness, touching her sweet lips! +And indignation, lighting on her brow, +Transforms to brightness as the cloud to gold +That overhangs the sun! I love her! Ay! +And all the throes of serious passion feel +At thought of losing her!--so my light love, +Which but her person did at first affect, +Her soul has metamorphosed--made a thing +Of solid thoughts and wishes--I must have her! + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, unnoticed SIR WALLER, who continues abstracted.] + +_W. Green_. What! Master Waller, and contemplative +Presumptive proof of love! Of me he thinks! +Revolves the point "to be or not to be!" +"To be!" by all the triumphs of my sex! +There was a sigh! My life upon't, that sigh, +If construed, would translate "Dear Widow Green!" + +_Wal_. Enchanting woman! + +_W. Green_. That is I!--most deep +Abstraction, sure concomitant of love. +Now, could I see his busy fancy's painting, +How should I blush to gaze upon myself. + +_Wal_. The matchless form of woman! The choice calling +Of the aspiring artist, whose ambition +Robs Nature to outdo her--the perfections +Of her rare various workmanship combines +To aggrandise his art at Nature's cost, +And make a paragon! + +_W. Green_. Gods! how he draws me! +Soon as he sees me, at my feet he falls!-- +Good Master Waller! + +_Wal_. Ha! The Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. He is confounded! So am I. O dear! +How catching is emotion. He can't speak! +O beautiful confusion! Amiable +Excess of modesty with passion struggling! +Now comes he to declare himself, but wants +The courage. I must help him.--Master Waller! + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Wal_. Thank +My lucky stars! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. I would he had the gout, +And kept his room! [Aside.]--You're welcome, dear Sir William! +'Tis very, very kind of you to call. +Sir William Fondlove--Master Waller. Pray +Be seated, gentlemen.--He shall requite me +For his untimely visit. Though the nail +Be driven home, it may want clinching yet +To make the hold complete! For that, I'll use him.--[Aside.] +You're looking monstrous well, Sir William! and +No wonder. You're a mine of happy spirits! +Some women talk of such and such a style +Of features in a man. Give me good humour; +That lights the homeliest visage up with beauty, +And makes the face, where beauty is already, +Quite irresistible! + +_Sir Wil_. That's hitting hard. [Aside.] +Dear Widow Green, don't say so! On my life +You flatter me. You almost make me blush. + +_W. Green_. I durst not turn to Master Waller now, +Nor need I. I can fancy how he looks! +I warrant me he scowls on poor Sir William, +As he could eat him up. I must improve +His discontent, and so make sure of him.--[Aside.] +I flatter you, Sir William! O, you men! +You men, that talk so meek, and all the while +Do know so well your power! Who would think +You had a marriageable daughter! You +Did marry very young. + +_Sir Wil_. A boy!--a boy! +Who knew not his own mind. + +_W. Green_. Your daughter's twenty. +Come, you at least were twenty when you married; +That makes you forty. + +_Sir Wil_. O dear! Widow Green. + +_W. Green_. Not forty? + +_Sir Wil_. You do quite embarrass me! +I own I have the feelings of a boy, +The freshness and the glow of spring-time, yet,-- +The relish yet for my young schooldays' sports; +Could whip a top--could shoot at taw--could play +At prison-bars and leapfrog--so I might-- +Not with a limb, perhaps, as supple, but +With quite as supple will. Yet I confess +To more than forty! + +_W. Green_. Do you say so? Well, +I'll never guess a man's age by his looks +Again.--Poor Master Waller! He must writhe +To hear I think Sir William is so young. +I'll turn his visit yet to more account.--[Aside.] +A handsome ring, Sir William, that you wear! + +_Sir Wil_. Pray look at it. + +_W. Green_. The mention of a ring +Will take away his breath. + +_Wal_. She must be mine +Whate'er her terms! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. I'll steal a look at him! + +_Wal_. What! though it be the ring?--the marriage ring? +If that she sticks at, she deserves to wear it +Oh, the debate which love and prudence hold! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. How highly he is wrought upon! His hands +Are clenched!--I warrant me his frame doth shake! +Poor Master Waller! I have filled his heart +Brimful with passion for me. The delight +Of proving thus my power! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green!-- +She hears not! How the ring hath set her thinking! +I'll try and make her jealous. [Aside.]--Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Would you think that ring +Could tell a story? + +_W. Green_. Could it? Ah, Sir William, +I fear you are a rogue. + +_Sir Wil_. O no! + +_W. Green_. You are! + +_Sir Wil_. No, on my honour! Would you like to hear +The story of the ring? + +_W. Green_. Much--very much. + +_Sir Wil_. Think'st we may venture draw our chairs apart +A little more from Master Waller? + +_W. Green_. Yes. +He'll bring it to a scene! Dear--dear Sir William, +How much I am obliged to him! A scene! +Gods, we shall have a scene!--Good Master Waller, +Your leave I pray you for a minute, while +Sir William says a word or two to me.-- +He durst not trust his tongue for jealousy!--[Aside.] +Now, dear Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. You must promise me +You will not think me vain. + +_W. Green_. No fear of that. + +_Sir Wil_. Nor given to boast. + +_W. Green_. O! dear Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. Nor +A flirt! + +_W. Green_. O! who would take you for a flirt? + +_Sir Wil_. How very kind you are! + +_W. Green_. Go on, Sir William. + +_Sir Wil_. Upon my life, I fear you'll think me vain! +I'm covered with confusion at the thought +Of what I've done. 'Twas very, very wrong +To promise you the story of the ring; +Men should not talk of such things. + +_W. Green_. Such as what? +As ladies' favours? + +_Sir Wil_. 'Pon my life, I feel +As I were like to sink into the earth. + +_W. Green_. A lady then it was gave you the ring? + +_Sir Wil_. Don't ask me to say yes, but only scan +The inside of the ring.--How much she's moved. [Aside.] + +_Wal_. They to each other company enough! +I, company for no one but myself. +I'll take my leave, nor trouble them to pay +The compliments of parting. Lydia! Lydia! + +[Goes out.] + +_W. Green_. What's here? "Eliza!" So it was a lady!-- +How wondrously does Master Waller bear it! +He surely will not hold much longer out.--[Aside.] +Sir William! Nay, look up! What cause to cast +Your eyes upon the ground? What an it were +A lady? + +_Sir Wil_. You're not angry? + +_W. Green_. No! + +_Sir Wil_. She is. +I'll take the tone she speaks in 'gainst the word, +For fifty crowns.--I have not told you all +About the ring; though I would sooner die +Than play the braggart!--yet, as truth is truth, +And told by halves, may from a simple thing, +By misconstruction, to a monster grow, +I'll tell the whole truth! + +_W. Green_. Dear Sir William, do! + +_Sir Wil_. The lady was a maid, and very young; +Nor there in justice to her must I stop, +But say that she was beautiful as young; +And add to that that she was learned too, +Almost enough to win for her that title, +Our sex, in poor conceit of their own merits, +And narrow spirit of monopoly, +And jealousy, which gallantry eschews, +Do give to women who assert their right +To minds as well as we. + +_W. Green_. What! a blue-stocking? + +_Sir Wil_. I see--she'll come to calling names at last.--[Aside.] +I should offend myself to quote the term. +But, to return, for yet I have not done; +And further yet may go, then progress on +That she was young, that she was beautiful. +A wit and learned are naught to what's to come-- +She had a heart!-- + +_W. Green_. [Who during SIR WILLIAM'S speech has turned gradually.] +What, Master Waller gone! [Aside.] + +_Sir Wil_. I say she had a heart-- + +_W. Green_. [Starting up--SIR WILLIAM also.] A plague upon her! + +_Sir Wil_. I knew she would break out! [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. Here, take the ring. It has ruined me! + +_Sir Wil_. I vow thou hast no cause +For anger! + +_W. Green_. Have I not? I am undone, +And all about that bauble of a ring. + +_Sir Wil_. You're right, it is a bauble. + +_W. Green_. And the minx +That gave it thee! + +_Sir Wil_. You're right, she was a minx. +I knew she'd come to calling names at last. [Aside.] + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove, leave me. + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green!-- + +_W. Green_. You have undone me, sir! + +_Sir Wil_. Don't say so! Don't! +It was a girl--a child gave me the ring! + +_W. Green_. Do you hear me, sir? I bade you leave me. + +_Sir Wil_. If +I thought you were so jealous-- + +_W. Green_. Jealous, sir! +Sir William! quit my house. + +_Sir Wil_. A little girl +To make you jealous! + +W. Green. Sir, you'll drive me mad! + +_Sir Wil_. A child, a perfect child, not ten years old! + +_W. Green_. Sir, I would be alone, sir! + +_Sir Wil_. Young enough +To dandle still her doll! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. I hate you, sir! Detest you! Never wish +To see you more! You have ruined me! Undone me! +A blighted life I wear, and all through you! +The fairest hopes that ever woman nourished, +You've cankered in the very blowing! bloom +And sweet destroyed, and nothing left me, but +The melancholy stem. + +_Sir Wil_. And all about +A little slut I gave a rattle to!-- +Would pester me for gingerbread and comfits!-- +A little roguish feigning! A love-trick +I played to prove your love! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove! +If of my own house you'll not suffer me +To be the mistress, I will leave it to you! + +_Sir Wil_. Dear Widow Green! The ring-- + +_W. Green_. Confound the ring, +The donor of it, thee, and everything! + +[Goes out.] + +_Sir Wil_. She is over head and ears in love with me! +She's mad with love! There's love and all its signs! +She's jealous of me unto very death! +Poor Widow Green! I warrant she is now +In tears! I think I hear her sob! Poor thing! +Sir William! Oh, Sir William! You have raised +A furious tempest! Set your wits to work +To turn it to a calm. No question that +She loves me! None then that she'll take me! So +I'll have the marriage settlements made out +To-morrow, and a special licence got, +And marry her the next day! I will make +Quick work of it, and take her by surprise! +Who but a widower a widow's match? +What could she see with else but partial eyes +To guess me only forty? I'm a wonder! +What shall I pass for in my wedding suit? +I vow I am a puzzle to myself, +As well as all the world besides. Odd's life! +To win the heart of buxom Widow Green! + +[Goes out.] + +[WIDOW GREEN re-enters with LYDIA.] + +_W. Green_. At last the dotard's gone! Fly, Lydia, fly, +This letter bear to Master Waller straight; +Quick, quick, or I'm undone! He is abused, +And I must undeceive him--own my love, +And heart and hand at his disposal lay. +Answer me not, my girl--obey me! Fly. + +[Goes out.] + +_Lydia_. Untowardly it falls!--I had resolved +This hour to tell her I must quit her service! +Go to his house! I will not disobey +Her last commands!--I'll leave it at the door, +And as it closes on me think I take +One more adieu of him! Hard destiny! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +_Con_. The booby! He must fall in love, indeed! +And now he's naught but sentimental looks +And sentences, pronounced 'twixt breath and voice! +And attitudes of tender languishment! +Nor can I get from him the name of her +Hath turned him from a stock into a fool. +He hems and haws, now titters, now looks grave! +Begins to speak and halts! takes off his eyes +To fall in contemplation on a chair, +A table, or the ceiling, wall, or floor! +I'll plague him worse and worse! O, here he comes! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +_Wild_. Despite her spiteful usage I'm resolved +To tell her now. Dear neighbour Constance! + +_Con_. Fool! +Accost me like a lady, sir! I hate +The name of neighbour! + +_Wild_. Mistress Constance, then-- +I'll call thee that. + +_Con_. Don't call me anything! +I hate to hear thee speak--to look at thee, +To dwell in the same house with thee! + +_Wild_. In what +Have I offended? + +_Con_. What!--I hate an ape! + +_Wild_. An ape! + +_Con_. Who bade thee ape the gentleman? +And put on dress that don't belong to thee? +Go! change thee with thy whipper-in or huntsman, +And none will doubt thou wearest thy own clothes. + +_Wild_. A pretty pass! Mocked for the very dress +I bought to pleasure her! Untoward things +Are women! [Aside. Walks backwards and forwards.] + +_Con_. Do you call that walking? Pray +What makes you twist your body so, and take +Such pains to turn your toes out? If you'd walk, +Walk thus! Walk like a man, as I do now! + +[Walking] + +Is yours the way a gentleman should walk? +You neither walk like man nor gentleman! +I'll show you how you walk. [Mimicking him.] +Do you call that walking? + +_Wild_. My thanks, for a drill-sergeant twice a day +For her sake! [Aside.] + +_Con_. Now, of all things in the world, +What made you dance last night? + +_Wild_. What made me dance? + +_Con_. Right! It was anything but dancing! Steps +That never came from dancing-school--nor English, +Nor Scotch, nor Irish! You must try to cut, +And how you did it! [Cuts.] That's the way to cut! +And then your chasse! Thus you went, and thus. + +[Mimicking him.] + +As though you had been playing at hop, step, +And jump!--and yet you looked so monstrous pleased, +And played the simpleton with such a grace, +Taking their tittering for compliment! +I could have boxed you soundly for't. Ten times +Denied I that I knew you. + +_Wild_. Twenty guineas +Were better in the gutter thrown than gone +To fee a dancing-master! [Aside.] + +_Con_. And you're grown +An amateur in music!--What fine air +Was that you praised last night?--"The Widow Jones!" +A country jig they turned into a song. +You asked "If it had come from Italy?" +The lady blushed and held her peace, and then +You blushed and said, "Perhaps it came from France!" +And then when blushed the lady more, nor spoke, +You said, "At least it came from Germany!" +The air was English!--a true English air; +A downright English air!--a common air; +Old as "When Good King Arthur." Not a square, +Court, alley, street, or lane about the town, +In which it is not whistled, played, or sung! +But you must have it come from Italy, +Or Germany, or France. Go home! Go home! +To Lincolnshire, and mind thy dog and horn! +You'll never do for town! "The Widow Jones" +To come from Italy! Stay not in town, +Or you'll be married to the Widow Jones, +Since you've forsworn, you say, the Widow Green! +And morn and night they'll din your ears with her! +"Well met, dear Master Wildrake. A fine day! +Pray, can you tell whence came the Widow Jones?" +They love a jest in town! To Lincolnshire! +You'll never do for town! To Lincolnshire; +"The Widow Jones" to come from Italy! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. Confound the Widow Jones! 'Tis true! The air +Well as the huntsman's triple mort I know, +But knew not then indeed, 'twas so disguised +With shakes and flourishes, outlandish things, +That mar, not grace, an honest English song! +Howe'er, the mischief's done! and as for her, +She is either into hate or madness fallen. +If madness, would she had her wits again, +Or I my heart! If hate, my love's undone; +I'll give her up. I'll e'en to Master Trueworth, +Confess my treason--own my punishment-- +Take horse, and back again to Lincolnshire! + +[Goes out.] + +_Con_. [Returning.] Not here! I trust I have not gone too far! +If he should quit the house! Go out of town! +Poor neighbour Wildrake! Little does he owe me! +From childhood I've been used to plague him thus. +Why would he fall in love, and spoil it all! +I feel as I could cry! He has no right +To marry any one! What wants he with +A wife? Has he not plague enough in me? +Would he be plagued with anybody else? +Ever since I have lived in town I have felt +The want of neighbour Wildrake! Not a soul +Besides I care to quarrel with; and now +He goes and gives himself to another! What! +Am I in love with neighbour Wildrake? No. +I only would not have him marry--marry? +Sooner I'd have him dead than have him marry! + + + +ACT IV. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Master Waller's House. + + +[Enter ALICE, hastily.] + +_Alice_. [Speaking to the outside.] Fly, Stephen, to the door! your +rapier! quick!-- +Our master is beset, because of one +Whose part he takes, a maid, whom lawless men +Would lawlessly entreat! In what a world +We live!--How do I shake!--with what address +[Looking out of window.] +He lays about him, and his other arm +Engaged, in charge of her whom he defends! +A damsel worth a broil!--Now, Stephen, now! +Take off the odds, brave lad, and turn the scale! +I would I were a swordsman! How he makes +His rapier fly!--Well done!--O Heaven, there's blood. +But on the side that's wrong!--Well done, good Stephen! +Pray Heaven no life be ta'en!--Lay on, brave lad! +He has marked his man again. Good lad--Well done, +I pray no mischief come!--Press on him, Stephen! +Now gives he ground.--Follow thy advantage up! +Allow no pause for breaths!--Hit him again! +Forbid it end in death!--Lounge home, good Stephen! +How fast he now retreats!--That spring, I'll swear, +Was answer to thy point!--Well fenced!--Well fenced! +Now Heaven forefend it end in death!--He flies! +And from his comrade, the same moment, hath +Our master jerked his sword--The day is ours! +Quick may they get a surgeon for their wounds, +And I, a cordial for my fluttered spirits: +I vow, I'm nigh to swoon! + +_Wal_. [Without.] Hoa! Alice! Hoa! +Open the door! Quick, Alice! Quick! + +_Alice_. Anon! +Young joints take no thought of aged ones, +But ever think them as supple as themselves. + +_Wal_. Alice! + +_Alice_. [Opening the door.] I'm here!--A mercy!-- +Is she dead? + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, bearing LYDIA, fainting.] + +_Wal_. No, she but faints.--A chair!--Quick, Alice, quick! +Water to bathe her temples. + +[ALICE goes out.] + +Such a turn +Kind fortune never do me. Shall I kiss +To life these frozen lips?--No!--of her plight +'Twere base to take advantage. + +[ALICE returns, &c.] + +All is well, +The blood returns. + +_Alice_. How wondrous fair she is! + +_Wal_. Thou think'st her so?--No wonder then should I. +How say you?--Wondrous fair? [Aside.] + +_Alice_. Yes; wondrous fair! +Harm never come to her! So sweet a thing +'Twere pity were abused! + +_Wal_. You think her fair? + +_Alice_. Ay, marry! Half so fair were more than match +For fairest she e'er saw mine eyes before! +And what a form! A foot and instep there! +Vouchers of symmetry! A little foot +And rising instep, from an ankle arching, +A palm, and that a little one, might span. + +_Wal_. Who taught thee thus? + +_Alice_. Why who, but her, taught thee? +Thy mother!--Heaven rest her!--Thy good mother! +She could read men and women by their hands +And feet!--And here's a hand!--A fairy palm! +Fingers that taper to the pinky tips, +With nails of rose, like shells of such a hue, +Berimmed with pearl, you pick up on the shore! +Save these the gloss and tint do wear without. + +_Wal_. Why, how thou talk'st! + +_Alice_. Did I not tell thee thus +Thy mother used to talk? Such hand and foot, +She would say, in man or woman vouched for nature +High tempered!--Still for sentiment refined; +Affection tender; apprehension quick-- +Degrees beyond the generality! +There is a marriage finger! Curse the hand +Would balk it of a ring! + +_Wal_. She's quite restored, +Leave us!--Why cast'st thou that uneasy look? +Why linger'st thou? I'm not alone with her. +My honour's with her too. I would not wrong her. + +_Alice_. And if thou wouldst, thou'rt not thy mother's son. + +[Goes out.] + +_Wal_. You are better? + +_Lydia_. Much!--much! + +_Wal_. Know you him who durst +Attempt this violence in open day? +It seemed as he would force thee to his coach, +I saw attending. + +_Lydia_. Take this letter, sir, +And send the answer--I must needs be gone. + +_Wal_. [Throwing the letter away.] I read no letter! +Tell me, what of him +I saw offend thee? + +_Lydia_. He hath often met me, +And by design I think, upon the street, +And tried to win mine ear, which ne'er he got +Save only by enforcement. Presents--gifts-- +Of jewels and of gold to wild amount, +To win an audience, hath he proffered me; +Until, methought, my silence--for my lips +Disdained reply were question was a wrong-- +Had wearied him. Oh, sir, whate'er of life +Remains to me I had foregone, ere proved +The horror of this hour!--and you it is +That have protected me? + +_Wal_. Oh, speak not on't! + +_Lydia_. You that have saved me from mine enemy-- + +_Wal_. I pray you to forget it. + +_Lydia_. From a foe +More dire than he that putteth life in peril-- + +_Wal_. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me. + +_Lydia_. No! +I will not spare you.--You have brought me to safety, +You whom I fear worse than that baleful foe. + +[Rises to go.] + +_Wal_. [Kneeling and snatching her hand.] Lydia! + +_Lydia_. Now, make thy bounty perfect. Drop +My hand. That posture which dishonours thee, +Quit!--for 'tis shame on shame to show respect +Where we do feel disdain. Throw ope thy gate +And let me pass, and never seek with me, +By look, or speech, or aught, communion more! + +_Wal_. Thou saidst thou lovedst me? + +_Lydia_. Yes! when I believed +My tongue did take of thee its last adieu, +And now that I do know it--for be sure +It never bids adieu to thee again-- +Again, I tell it thee! Release me, sir! +Rise!--and no hindrance to my will oppose. +That would be free to go. + +_Wal_. I cannot lose thee! + +_Lydia_. Thou canst not have me! + +_Wal_. No! + +_Lydia_. Thou canst not. I +Repeat it.--Yet I'm thine--thine every way, +Except where honour fences!--Honour, sir, +Not property of gentle blood alone; +Of gentle blood not always property! +Thou'lt not obey me. Still enforcest me! +Oh, what a contradiction is a man! +What in another he one moment spurns, +The next--he does himself complacently! + +_Wal_. Wouldst have me lose the hand that holds my life? + +_Lydia_. Hear me and keep it, if thou art a man! +I love thee--for thy benefit would give +The labour of that hand!--wear out my feet +Rack the invention of my mind!--the powers +Of my heart in one volition gather up! +My life expend, and think no more I gave +Than he who wins a priceless gem for thanks! +For such goodwill canst thou return me wrong? + +_Wal_. Yet, for awhile, I cannot let thee go. +Propound for me an oath that I'll not wrong thee! +An oath, which, if I break it, will entail +Forfeit of earth and heaven. I'll take it--so +Thou stay'st one hour with me. + +_Lydia_. No!--Not one moment! +Unhand me, or I shriek!--I know the summons +Will pierce into the street, and set me free! +I stand in peril while I'm near thee! She +Who knows her danger, and delays escape, +Hath but herself to thank, whate'er befalls! +Sir, I may have a woman's weakness, but +I have a woman's resolution, too, +And that's a woman's strength! +One moment more!-- + +_Wal_. Lo! Thou art free to go! + +[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.] + +[LYDIA approaches the door--her pace slackens--she pauses with her hand +upon the lock--turns, and looks earnestly on WALLER.] + +_Lydia_. I have a word +To say to thee; if by thy mother's honour, +Thou swear'st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat. + +_Wal_. I swear as thou propound'st to me. + +_Lydia_. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, why-- +Why have you used me thus? See what you've done! +Essayed to light a guilty passion up, +And kindled in its stead a holy one! +For I do love thee! Know'st thou not the wish +To find desert doth bring it oft to sight +Where yet it is not? so, for substance, passes +What only is a phantasm of our minds! +I feared thy love was guilty--yet my wish +To find it honest, stronger than my fear, +My fear with fatal triumph overthrew! +Now hope and fear give up to certainty, +And I must fly thee--yet must love thee still! + +_Wal_. Lydia! by all-- + +_Lydia_. I pray you hear me out! +Was 't right? was 't generous? was 't pitiful? +One way or other I might be undone: +To love with sin--or love without a hope! + +_Wal_. Yet hear me, Lydia!-- + +_Lydia_. Stop! I'm undone! +A maid without a heart--robbed of the soil, +Wherein life's hopes and wishes root and spring, +And thou the foe that did me so much hate, +And vowed me so much love!--but I forgive thee! +Yea, I do bless thee! + +[Rushing up and sinking at his feet.] + +Recollect thy oath!-- +Or in thy heart lodged never germ of honour, +But 'tis a desert all! + +[She kisses his hand--presses it to her heart, and kisses it again.] + +Farewell then to thee! + +[Rises.] + +Mayst thou be happy. [Going.] + +_Wal_. Wouldst ensure the thing +Thou wishest? + +[She moves towards the door with a gesture that prohibits further +converse.] + +Stop! [She continues to move on.] +Oh, sternly resolute! [She still moves.] +I mean thee honour! + +[She stops and turns towards him.] + +Thou dost meditate-- +I know it--flight. Give me some pause for thought, +But to confirm a mind almost made up. +If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then +Think me a friend far better lost than won! +Wilt thou do this? + +_Lydia_. I will. + +_Wal_. An hour decides. + +[They go out severalty.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's House. + + +[Enter WILDRAKE and TRUEWORTH.] + +_Wild_. You are not angry? + +_True_. No; I knew the service +I sent you on was one of danger. + +_Wild_. Thank you. +Most kind you are--And you believe she loves me: +And your own hopes give up to favour mine. +Was ever known such kindness! Much I fear +'Twill cost you. + +_True_. Never mind! I'll try and bear it. + +_Wild_. That's right. No use in yielding to a thing. +Resolve does wonders! Shun the sight of her-- +See other women!--Fifty to be found +As fair as she. + +_True_. I doubt it. + +_Wild_. Doubt it not. +Doubt nothing that gives promise of a care. +Right handsome dames there are in Lancashire, +Whence called their women, witches!--witching things! +I know a dozen families in which +You'd meet a courtesy worthy of a bow. +I'll give you letters to them. + +_True_. Will you? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_True_. The worth of a disinterested friend! + +_Wild_. O Master Trueworth, deeply I'm your debtor +I own I die for love of neighbour Constance! +And thou to give her up for me! Kind friend! +What won't I do for thee?--Don't pine to death; +I'll find thee fifty ways to cure thy passion, +And make thee heart-whole, if thou'rt so resolved. +Thou shalt be master of my sporting stud, +And go a hunting. If that likes thee not, +Take up thy quarters at my shooting-lodge; +There is a cellar to 't--make free with it. +I'll thank thee if thou emptiest it. The song +Gives out that wine feeds love--It drowns it, man! +If thou wilt neither hunt nor shoot, try games; +Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage, +Backgammon--special recipes for love! +And you believe, for all the hate she shows, +That neighbour Constance loves me? + +_True_. 'Tis my thought. + +_Wild_. How shall I find it out? + +_True_. Affect to love +Another. Say your passion thrives; the day +Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part +Of bridemaid to your bride. 'Twill bring her out. + +_Wild_. You think she'll own her passion? + +_True_. If she loves. + +_Wild_. I thank thee! I will try it! Master Trueworth, +What shall I say to thee, to give her up, +And love her so? + +_True_. Say nothing. + +_Wild_. Noble friend! +Kind friend! Instruct another man the way +To win thy mistress! Thou'lt not break my heart? +Take my advice, thou shalt not be in love +A month! Frequent the playhouse!--walk the Park! +I'll think of fifty ladies that I know, +Yet can't remember now--enchanting ones! +And then there's Lancashire!--and I have friends +In Berkshire and in Wiltshire, that have swarms +Of daughters! Then my shooting-lodge and stud! +I'll cure thee in a fortnight of thy love! +And now to neighbour Constance--yet almost +I fear accosting her--a hundred times +Have I essayed to break my mind to her, +But still she stops my mouth with restless scorn! +Howe'er, thy scheme I'll try, and may it thrive! +For I am sick for love of neighbour Constance. +Farewell, dear Master Trueworth! Take my counsel-- +Conquer thy passion! Do so! Be a man! + +[Goes out.] + +_True_. Feat easy done that does not tax ourselves! + +[Enter Phoebe.] + +_Phoebe_. A letter, sir. + +[Goes out.] + +_True_. Good sooth, a roaming one, +And yet slow traveller. This should have reached me +In Lombardy.--The hand! Give way, weak seal, +Thy feeble let too strong for my impatience! +Ha! Wronged!--Let me contain myself!--Compelled +To fly the roof that gave her birth!--My sister! +No partner in her flight but her pure honour! +I am again a brother. Pillow, board, +I know not till I find her. + +[Enter WALLER.] + +_Wal_. Master Trueworth! + +_True_. Ha! Master Waller! Welcome, Master Waller. + +_Wal_. Good Master Trueworth, thank you. Finding you +From home, I e'en made bold to follow you, +For I esteem you as a man, and fain +Would benefit by your kind offices. +But let me tell you first, to your reproof, +I am indebted more than e'er I was +To praise of any other! I am come, sir, +To give you evidence I am not one +Who owns advice is right, and acts not on't. + +_True_. Pray you explain. + +_Wal_. Will you the bearer be +Of this to one has cause to thank you, too, +Though I the larger debtor?--Read it, sir. + +_True_. [Reading the letter.] "At morn to-morrow I will make you mine; +Will you accept from me the name of wife-- +The name of husband give me in exchange?" + +_Wal_. How say you, sir? + +_True_. 'Tis boldly--nobly done! + +_Wal_. If she consents--which affectation 'twere +To say I doubt--bid her prepare for church, +And you shall act the father, sir, to her +You did the brother by. + +_True_. Right willingly, +Though matter of high moment I defer, +Mind, heart, and soul, are all enlisted in! + +_Wal_. May I implore you, haste! A time is set!-- +How light an act of duty makes the heart! + +[They go out together.] + + +SCENE III.--Another Chamber in Sir William's house. + + +[CONSTANCE discovered.] + +_Con_. I'll pine to death for no man! Wise it were, +Indeed, to die for neighbour Wildrake--No!-- +I know the duty of a woman, better-- +What fits a maid of spirit! I am out +Of patience with myself, to cast a thought +Away upon him. Hang him! Lovers cost +Nought but the pains of luring. I'll get fifty, +And break the heart of every one of them! +I will! I'll be the champion of my sex, +And take revenge on shallow, fickle man, +Who gives his heart to fools, and slights the worth +Of proper women! I suppose she's handsome! +My face 'gainst hers, at hazard of mine eyes! +A maid of mind! I'll talk her to a stand, +Or tie my tongue for life! A maid of soul! +An artful, managing, dissembling one! +Or she had never caught. Him!--he's no man +To fall in love himself, or long ago +I warrant he had fall'n in love with me! +I hate the fool--I do! Ha, here he comes. +What brings him hither? Let me dry my eyes; +He must not see I have been crying. Hang him, +I have much to do, indeed, to cry for him! + +[Enter WILDRAKE] + +_Wild_. Your servant, neighbour Constance. + +_Con_. Servant, sir! +Now what, I wonder, comes the fool to say, +Makes him look so important? + +_Wild_. Neighbour Constance, +I am a happy man. + +_Con_. What makes you so? + +_Wild_. A thriving suit. + +_Con_. In Chancery? + +_Wild_. Oh, no! +In love. + +_Con_. Oh, true! You are in love! Go on! + +_Wild_. Well, as I said, my suit's a thriving one. + +_Con_. You mean you are beloved again!--I don't +Believe it. + +_Wild_. I can give you proof. + +_Con_. What proof? +Love letters? She's a shameless maid +To write them! Can she spell? Ay, I suppose +With prompting of a dictionary! + +_Wild_. Nay +Without one. + +_Con_. I will lay you ten to one +She cannot spell! How know you she can spell? +You cannot spell yourself! You write command +With a single M-C-O-M-A-N-D: +Yours to Co-mand. + +_Wild_. I did not say she wrote +Love letters to me. + +_Con_. Then she suffers you to press +Her hand, perhaps? + +_Wild_. She does. + +_Con_. Does she press yours? + +_Wild_. She does.--It goes on swimmingly! [Aside.] + +_Con_. She does! +She is no modest woman! I'll be bound, +Your arm the madam suffers round her waist? + +_Wild_. She does! + +_Con_. She does! Outrageous forwardness! +Does she let you kiss her? + +_Wild_. Yes. + +_Con_. She should be-- + +_Wild_. What? + +_Con_. What you got thrice your share of when at school, +And yet not half your due! A brazen face! +More could not grant a maid about to wed. + +_Wild_. She is so. + +_Con_. What? + +_Wild_. How swimmingly it goes! [Aside.] + +_Con_. [With suppressed impatience.] Are you about to marry, neighbour +Wildrake? +Are you about to marry? + +_Wild_. Excellent. [Aside.] + +_Con_. [Breaking out.] Why don't you answer me? + +_Wild_. I am. + +_Con_. You are-- +I tell you what, sir--You're a fool! + +_Wild_. For what? + +_Con_. You are not fit to marry. Do not know +Enough of the world, sir! Have no more experience, +Thought, judgment, than a schoolboy! Have no mind +Of your own!--your wife will make a fool of you, +Will jilt you, break your heart! I wish she may +I do! You have no more business with a wife; +Than I have! Do you mean to say, indeed, +You are about to marry? + +_Wild_. Yes, indeed. + +_Con_. And when? + +_Wild_. I'll say to-morrow! [Aside.] + +_Con_. When, I say? + +_Wild_. To-morrow. + +_Con_. Thank you: much beholden to you! +You've told me on't in time! I'm very much +Beholden to you, neighbour Wildrake! +And, I pray you, at what hour? + +_Wild_. That we have left +For you to name. + +_Con_. For me! + +_Wild_. For you. + +_Con_. Indeed. +You're very bountiful! I should not wonder +Meant you I should be bridemaid to the lady? + +_Wild_. 'Tis just the thing I mean! + +_Con_. [Furiously.] The thing you mean! +Now pray you, neighbour, tell me that again, +And think before you speak; for much I doubt +You know what you are saying. Do you mean +To ask me to be bridemaid? + +_Wild_. Even so. + +_Con_. Bridemaid? + +_Wild_. Ay, bridemaid!--It is coming fast +Unto a head. [Aside.] + +_Con_. And 'tis for me you wait +To fix the day? It shall be doomsday, then! + +_Wild_. Be doomsday? + +_Con_. Doomsday! + +_Wild_. Wherefore doomsday? + +_Con_. Wherefore!--[Boxes him.] +Go ask your bride, and give her that from me. +Look, neighbour Wildrake! you may think this strange, +But don't misconstrue it! For you are vain, sir! +And may put down for love what comes from hate. +I should not wonder, thought you I was jealous; +But I'm not jealous, sir!--would scorn to be so +Where it was worth my while--I pray henceforth +We may be strangers, sir--you will oblige me +By going out of town. I should not like +To meet you on the street, sir. Marry, sir! +Marry to-day! The sooner, sir, the better! +And may you find you have made a bargain, sir. +As for the lady!--much I wish her joy. +I pray you send me no bridecake, sir! +Nor gloves--If you do, I'll give them to my maid! +Or throw them into the kennel--or the fire. +I am your most obedient servant, sir! + +[Goes out.] + +_Wild_. She is a riddle, solve her he who can! + +[Goes out.] + + + +ACT V. + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[SIR WILLIAM seated with two Lawyers.] + +_Sir Wil_. How many words you take to tell few things +Again, again say over what, said once, +Methinks were told enough! + +_First Lawyer_. It is the law, +Which labours at precision. + +_Sir Wil_. Yes; and thrives +Upon uncertainty--and makes it, too, +With all its pains to shun it. I could bind +Myself, methinks, with but the twentieth part +Of all this cordage, sirs.--But every man, +As they say, to his own business. You think +The settlement is handsome? + +_First Lawyer_. Very, sir. + +_Sir Wil_. Then now, sirs, we have done, and take my thanks, +Which, with your charges, I will render you +Again to-morrow. + +_First Lawyer_. Happy nuptials, sir. + +[Lawyers go out.] + +_Sir Wil_. Who passes there? Hoa! send my daughter to me, +And Master Wildrake too! I wait for them. +Bold work!--Without her leave to wait upon her, +And ask her go to church!--'Tis taking her +By storm! What else could move her yesterday +But jealousy? What causeth jealousy +But love? She's mine the moment she receives +Conclusive proof, like this, that heart and soul, +And mind and person, I am all her own! +Heigh ho! These soft alarms are very sweet, +And yet tormenting too! Ha! Master Wildrake, + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +I am glad you're ready, for I'm all in arms +To bear the widow off. Come! Don't be sad; +All must go merrily, you know, to-day!-- +She still doth bear him hard, I see! The girl +Affects him not, and Trueworth is at fault, +Though clear it is that he doth die for her. [Aside.] +Well, daughter?--So I see you're ready too. + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +Why, what's amiss with thee? + +_Phoebe_. [Entering.] The coach is here. + +_Sir Wil_. Come, Wildrake, offer her your arm. + +_Con_. [To WILDRAKE.] I thank you! +I am not an invalid!--can use my limbs! +He knows not how to make an arm, befits +A lady lean upon. + +_Sir Wil_. Why, teach him, then. + +_Con_. Teach him! Teach Master Wildrake! Teach, indeed! +I taught my dog to beg, because I knew +That he could learn it. + +_Sir Wil_. Peace, thou little shrew! +I'll have no wrangling on my wedding-day! +Here, take my arm. + +_Con_. I'll not!--I'll walk alone! +Live, die alone! I do abominate +The fool and all his sex! + +_Sir Wil_. Again! + +_Con_. I have done. +When do you marry, Master Wildrake? She +Will want a husband goes to church with thee! + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE II.--Widow Green's Dressing-room. + + +[WIDOW GREEN discovered at her Toilet, attended by AMELIA, WALLER'S +Letter to LYDIA in her hand.] + +_W. Green_. Oh, bond of destiny!--Fair bond, that seal'st +My fate in happiness! I'll read thee yet +Again--although thou'rt written on my heart. +But here his hand, indicting thee, did lie! +And this the tracing of his fingers! So +I read thee that could rhyme thee, as my prayers! +"At morn to-morrow I will make you mine. +Will you accept from me the name of wife-- +The name of husband give me in exchange?" +The traitress! to break ope my billet-doux, +And take the envelope!--But I forgive her, +Since she did leave the rich contents behind. +Amelia, give this feather more a slope, +That it sit droopingly. I would look all +Dissolvement, nought about me to bespeak +Boldness! I would appear a timid bride, +Trembling upon the verge of wifehood, as +I ne'er before had stood there! That will do. +Oh dear!--How I am agitated--don't +I look so? I have found a secret out,-- +Nothing in woman strikes a man so much +As to look interesting! Hang this cheek +Of mine! It is too saucy; what a pity +To have a colour of one's own!--Amelia! +Could you contrive, dear girl, to bleach my cheek, +How I would thank you! I could give it then +What tint I chose, and that should be the hectic +Bespeaks a heart in delicate commotion. +I am much too florid! Stick a rose in my hair, +The brightest you can find, 'twill help, my girl, +Subdue my rebel colour--Nay, the rose +Doth lose complexion, not my cheek! Exchange it +For a carnation. That's the flower, Amelia! +You see how it doth triumph o'er my cheek. +Are you content with me? + +_Amelia_. I am, my lady. + +_W. Green_. And whither think you has the hussy gone, +Whose place you fill so well?--Into the country? +Or fancy you she stops in town? + +_Amelia_. I can't +Conjecture. + +_W. Green_. Shame upon her!--Leave her place +Without a moment's warning!--with a man, too! +Seemed he a gentleman that took her hence? + +_Amelia_. He did. + +_W. Green_. You never saw him hero before? + +_Amelia_. Never. + +_W. Green_. Not lounging on the other side +Of the street, and reconnoitring the windows? + +_Amelia_. Never. + +_W. Green_. 'Twas planned by letter. Notes, you know, +Have often come to her--But I forgive her, +Since this advice she chanced to leave behind +Of gentle Master Waller's wishes, which +I bless myself in blessing!--Gods, a knock! +'Tis he! Show in those ladies are so kind +To act my bridemaids for me on this brief +And agitating notice. + +[AMELIA goes out.] + +Yes, I look +A bride sufficiently! And this the hand +That gives away my liberty again. +Upon my life it is a pretty hand, +A delicate and sentimental hand! +No lotion equals gloves; no woman knows +The use of them that does not sleep in them! +My neck hath kept its colour wondrously! +Well; after all it is no miracle +That I should win the heart of a young man. +My bridemaids come!--Oh dear! + +[Enter two Ladies.] + +First Lady. How do you, love? A good morning to you--Poor dear, +How much you are affected! Why we thought +You ne'er would summon us. + +_W. Green_. One takes, you know, +When one is flurried, twice the time to dress. +My dears, has either of you salts? I thank you! +They are excellent; the virtue's gone from mine, +Nor thought I of renewing them--Indeed, +I'm unprovided, quite, for this affair. + +_First Lady_. I think the bridegroom's come! + +_W. Green_. Don't say so! How +You've made my heart jump! + +_First Lady_. As you sent for us, +A new-launched carriage drove up to the door; +The servants all in favours. + +_W. Green_. 'Pon my life, +I never shall get through it; lend me your hand. + +[Half rises, and throws herself back on her chair again.] + +I must sit down again! There came just now +A feeling like to swooning over me. +I am sure before 'tis over I shall make +A fool of myself! I vow I thought not half +So much of my first wedding-day! I'll make +An effort. Let me lean upon your arm, +And give me yours, my dear. Amelia, mind +Keep near me with the smelling-bottle. + +_Servant_. [Entering.] Madam, +The bridegroom's come. + +[Goes out.] + +_W. Green_. The brute has knocked me down! +To bolt it out so! I had started less +If he had fired a cannon at my ear. +How shall I ever manage to hold up +Till all is done! I'm tremor head to foot. +You can excuse me, can't you?--Pity me! +One may feel queer upon one's wedding-day. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE THE LAST.--A Drawing-room. + + +[Enter Servants, showing in SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE, CONSTANCE, and MASTER +WILDRAKE--Servants go out again.] + +_Sir Wil_. [Aside to WILDRAKE.] Good Master Wildrake, look more +cheerfully!--Come, +You do not honour to my wedding-day. +How brisk am I! My body moves on springs! +My stature gives no inch I throw away; +My supple joints play free and sportfully; +I'm every atom what a man should be. + +_Wild_. I pray you pardon me, Sir William! + +_Sir Wil_. Smile, then, +And talk and rally me! I did expect, +Ere half an hour had passed, you would have put me +A dozen times to the blush. Without such things, +A bridegroom knows not his own wedding-day. +I see! Her looks are glossary to thine, +She flouts thee still, I marvel not at thee; +There's thunder in that cloud! I would to-day +It would disperse, and gather in the morning. +I fear me much thou know'st not how to woo. +I'll give thee a lesson. Ever there's a way, +But knows one how to take it? Twenty men +Have courted Widow Green. Who has her now? +I sent to advertise her that to-day +I meant to marry her. She wouldn't open +My note. And gave I up? I took the way +To make her love me! I did send, again +To pray her leave my daughter should be bridemaid. +That letter too came back? Did I give up? +I took the way to make her love me! Yet, +Again I sent to ask what church she chose +To marry at; my note came back again; +And did I yet give up? I took the way +To make her love me! All the while I found +She was preparing for the wedding. Take +A hint from me! She comes! My fluttering heart +Gives note the empress of its realms is near. +Now, Master Wildrake, mark and learn from me +How it behoves a bridegroom play his part. + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, supported by her Bridemaids, and followed by AMELIA.] + +_W. Green_. I cannot raise my eyes--they cannot bear +The beams of his, which, like the sun's, I feel +Are on me, though I see them not enlightening +The heaven of his young face; nor dare I scan +The brightness of his form, which symmetry +And youth and beauty in enriching vie. +He kneels to me! Now grows my breathing thick, +As though I did await a seraph's voice, +Too rich for mortal ear. + +_Sir Wil_. My gentle bride! + +_W. Green_. Who's that! who speaks to me? + +_Sir Wil_. These transports check. +Lo, an example to mankind I set +Of amorous emprise; and who should thrive +In love, if not Love's soldier, who doth press +The doubtful siege, and will not own repulse. +Lo, here I tender thee my fealty, +To live thy duteous slave. My queen thou art, +In frowns or smiles, to give me life or death. +Oh, deign look down upon me! In thy face +Alone I look on day; it is my sun +Most bright; the which denied, no sun doth rise. +Shine out upon me, my divinity! +My gentle Widow Green! My wife to be; +My love, my life, my drooping, blushing bride! + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove, you're a fool! + +_Sir Wil_. A fool! + +_W. Green_. Why come you hither, sir, in trim like this? +Or rather why at all? + +_Sir Wil_. Why come I hither? +To marry thee! + +_W. Green_. The man will drive me mad! +Sir William Fondlove, I'm but forty, sir, +And you are sixty, seventy, if a day; +At least you look it, sir. I marry you! +When did a woman wed her grandfather? + +_Sir Wil_. Her brain is turned! + +_W. Green_. You're in your dotage, sir, +And yet a boy in vanity! But know +Yourself from me; you are old and ugly, sir. + +_Sir Wil_. Do you deny you are in love with me? + +_W. Green_. In love with thee! + +_Sir Wil_. That you are jealous of me? + +_W. Green_. Jealous! + +_Sir Wil_. To very lunacy. + +_W. Green_. To hear him! + +_Sir Wil_. Do you forget what happened yesterday? + +_W. Green_. Sir William Fondlove!-- + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green, fair play!-- +Are you not laughing? Is it not a jest? +Do you believe me seventy to a day? +Do I look it? Am I old and ugly? Why, +Why do I see those favours in the hall, +These ladies dressed as bridemaids, thee as bride, +Unless to marry me? + +[Knock.] + +_W. Green_. He is coming, sir, +Shall answer you for me! + +[Enter WALLER, with Gentlemen as Bridemen.] + +_Wal_. Where is she? What! +All that bespeaks the day, except the fair +That's queen of it? Most kind of you to grace +My nuptials so! But that I render you +My thanks in full, make full my happiness, +And tell me where's my bride? + +_W. Green_. She's here. + +_Wal_. Where? + +_W. Green_. Here, +Fair Master Waller! + +_Wal_. Lady, do not mock me. + +_W. Green_. Mock thee! My heart is stranger to such mood, +'Tis serious tenderness and duty all. +I pray you mock not me, for I do strive +With fears and soft emotions that require +Support. Take not away my little strength, +And leave me at the mercy of a feather. +I am thy bride! If 'tis thy happiness +To think me so, believe it, and be rich +To thy most boundless wishes! Master Waller, +I am thy waiting bride, the Widow Green! + +_Wal_. Lady, no widow is the bride I seek, +But one the church has never given yet +The nuptial blessing to! + +_W. Green_. What mean you, sir? +Why come a bridegroom here, if not to me +You sued to be your bride? Is this your hand, sir? [Showing letter.] + +_Wal_. It is, addressed to your fair waiting-maid. + +_W. Green_. My waiting-maid! The laugh is passing round, +And now the turn is yours, sir. She is gone! +Eloped! run off! and with the gentleman +That brought your billet-doux. + +_Wal_. Is Trueworth false? +He must be false. What madness tempted me +To trust him with such audience as I knew +Must sense, and mind, and soul of man entrance, +And leave him but the power to feel its spell! +Of his own lesson he would profit take, +And plead at once an honourable love, +Supplanting mine, less pure, reformed too late! +And if he did, what merit I, except +To lose the maid I would have wrongly won; +And, had I rightly prized her, now had worn! +I get but my deservings! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH, leading in LYDIA, richly dressed, and veiled front head +to foot.] + +Master Trueworth, +Though for thy treachery thou hast excuse, +Thou must account for it; so much I lose! +Sir, you have wronged me to amount beyond +Acres, and gold, and life, which makes them rich. +And compensation I demand of you, +Such as a man expects, and none but one +That's less than man refuses! Where's the maid +You falsely did abstract? + +_True_. I took her hence, +But not by guile, nor yet enforcement, sir; +But of her free will, knowing what she did. +That, as I found, I cannot give her back, +I own her state is changed, but in her place +This maid I offer you, her image far +As feature, form, complexion, nature go! +Resemblance halting, only there, where thou +Thyself didst pause, condition, for this maid +Is gently born and generously bred. +Lo! for your fair loss, fair equivalent! + +_Wal_. Show me another sun, another earth +I can inherit, as this Sun and Earth; +As thou didst take the maid, the maid herself +Give back! herself, her sole equivalent! + +_True_. Her sole equivalent I offer you! +My sister, sir, long counted lost, now found, +Who fled her home unwelcome bands to 'scape, +Which a half-father would have forced upon her, +Taking advantage of her brother's absence +Away on travel in a distant land! +Returned, I missed her; of the cause received +Invention, coward, false and criminating! +And gave her up for lost; but happily +Did find her yesterday--Behold her, sir! + +[Removes veil.] + +_Wal_. Lydia! + +_W. Green_. My waiting-maid! + +_Wal_. Thy sister, Trueworth! +Art thou fit brother to this virtuous maid? + +_True_. [Giving LYDIA to WALLER.] Let this assure thee. + +_Lydia_. [To WIDOW GREEN.] Madam, pardon me +My double character, for honesty, +No other end assumed--and my concealment +Of Master Waller's love. In all things else +I trust I may believe you hold me blameless; +At least, I'll say for you, I should be so, +For it was pastime, madam, not a task, +To wait upon you! Little you exacted, +And ever made the most of what I did +In mere obedience to you! + +_W. Green_. Give me your hand, +No love without a little roguery. +If you do play the mistress well as maid, +You will hear off the bell! There never was +A better girl!--I have made myself a fool. +I am undone, if goes the news abroad. +My wedding dress I donned for no effect +Except to put it off! I must be married. +I'm a lost woman, if another day +I go without a husband!--What a sight +He looks by Master Waller!--Yet he is physic +I die without, so needs must gulp it down. +I'll swallow him with what good grace I can, +Sir William Fondlove! + +_Sir Wil_. Widow Green! + +_W. Green_. I own +I have been rude to you. Thou dost not look +So old by thirty, forty, years as I +Did say. Thou'rt far from ugly--very far! +And as I said, Sir William, once before, +Thou art a kind and right good-humoured man: +I was but angry with you! Why, I'll tell you +At more convenient season--and you know +An angry woman heeds not what she says, +And will say anything! + +_Sir Wil_. I were unworthy +The name of man, if an apology +So gracious came off profitless, and from +A lady! Will you take me, Widow Green? + +_W. Green_. Hem! [Curtsies.] + +_True_. [To WILDRAKE.] Master Wildrake dressed to go to church! +She has acknowledged, then, she loves thee?--No? +Give me thy hand, I'll lead thee up to her. + +_Wild_. 'Sdeath! what are you about? You know her not. +She'll brain thee! + +_True_. Fear not: come along with me. +Fair Mistress Constance! + +_Con_. Well, sir! + +_Wild_. [To TRUEWORTH.] Mind! + +_True_. Don't fear. +Love you not neighbour Wildrake? + +_Con_. Love, sir? + +_True_. Yes, +You do. + +_Con_. He loves another, sir, he does! +I hate him. We were children, sir, together +For fifteen years and more; there never came +The day we did not quarrel, make it up, +Quarrel again, and make it up again: +Were never neighbours more like neighbours, sir. +Since he became a man, and I a woman, +It still has been the same; nor eared I ever +To give a frown to any other, sir. +And now to come and tell me he's in love, +And ask me to be bridemaid to his bride! +How durst he do it, sir!--To fall in love! +Methinks at least he might have asked my leave, +Nor had I wondered had he asked myself, sir! + +_Wild_. Then give thyself to me! + +_Con_. How! what! + +_Wild_. Be mine, +Thou art the only maid thy neighbour loves. + +_Con_. Art serious, neighbour Wildrake? + +_Wild_. In the church +I'll answer thee, if thou wilt take me; though +I neither dress, nor walk, nor dance, nor know +"The Widow Jones" from an Italian, French, +Or German air. + +_Con_. No more of that.--My hand. + +_Wild_. Givest it as free as thou didst yesterday? + +_Con_. [Affecting to strike him.] Nay! + +_Wild_. I will thank it, give it how thou wilt. + +_W. Green_. A triple wedding! May the Widow Green +Obtain brief hearing e'er she quits the scene, +The Love-Chase to your kindness to commend +In favour of an old, now absent, friend! + + + + +Footnotes: + + +{1} Project Gutenberg released the first play, The Hunchback, together +with the introduction to this book, as a separate eText. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.05/20/01*END* +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk, +from the 1887 Cassell & Co. edition. + + + + + +THE LOVE-CHASE + +by James Sheridan Knowles + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE +(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT THE HAYMARKET, IN l837.) + + + +Sir William Fondlove, an old Baronet + Mr. Strickland. +Waller, in love with Lydia + Mr. Elton. +Wildrake, a Sportsman + Mr. Webster. +Trueworth, a Friend of Sir William + Mr Hemmings. +Neville, Friend to Waller + Mr. Worrell. +Humphreys, Friend to Waller + Mr. Hutchings. +Lash + Mr. Ross. +Chargewell, a Landlord + Mr. Edwards. +George, a Waiter + Mr. Bishop. +First Lawyer + Mr. Ray. +Widow Green + Mrs. Glover. +Constance, Daughter to Sir William Fondlove + Mrs. Nisbett. +Lydia, lady's Maid to Widow Green + Miss Vandenhoff. +Alice, Housekeeper to Master Waller + Mrs. Tayleure. +Phoebe, Maid to Constance, + Miss Wrighten. +Amelia + Miss Gallot. +First Lady + Mrs. Gallot. + + + +SCENE--LONDON. + + + +ACT I. + + + +SCENE I.--The Lobby of an Inn. + + +[Enter CHARGEWELL, hurriedly.] + +Charg. What, hoa there! Hoa, sirrahs! More wine! Are the knaves +asleep? Let not our guests cool, or we shall starve the till! Good +waiting, more than viands and wine, doth help to make the inn!-- +George!--Richard!--Ralph!--Where are you? + +[Enter GEORGE.] + +George. Here am I, sir! + +Charg. Have you taken in more wine to that company? + +George. Yes, sir. + +Charg. That's right. Serve them as quick as they order! A fair +company! I have seen them here before. Take care they come again. +A choice company! That Master Waller, I hear, is a fine spirit-- +leads the town. Pay him much duty. A deep purse, and easy strings. + +George. And there is another, sir;--a capital gentleman, though +from the country. A gentleman most learned in dogs and horses! He +doth talk wondrous edification: --one Master Wildrake. I wish you +could hear him, sir. + +Charg. Well, well!--attend to them. Let them not cool o'er the +liquor, or their calls will grow slack. Keep feeding the fire while +it blazes, and the blaze will continue. Look to it well! + +George. I will, sir. + +Charg. And be careful, above all, that you please Master Waller. +He is a guest worth pleasing. He is a gentleman. Free order, quick +pay! + +George. And such, I'll dare be sworn, is the other. A man of +mighty stores of knowledge--most learned in dogs and horses! Never +was I so edified by the discourse of mortal man. + +[They go out severally.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room. + + +[MASTER WALLER, MASTER WILDRAKE, MASTER TRUEWORTH, MASTER NEVILLE, +and MASTER HUMPHREYS, sitting round a table.] + +Wal. Well, Master Wildrake, speak you of the chase! +To hear you one doth feel the bounding steed; +You bring the hounds and game, and all to view - +All scudding to the jovial huntsman's cheer! +And yet I pity the poor crowned deer, +And always fancy 'tis by fortune's spite, +That lordly head of his, he bears so high - +Like Virtue, stately in calamity, +And hunted by the human, worldly hound - +Is made to fly before the pack, that straight +Burst into song at prospect of his death. +You say their cry is harmony; and yet +The chorus scarce is music to my ear, +When I bethink me what it sounds to his; +Nor deem I sweet the note that rings the knell +Of the once merry forester! + +Nev. The same things +Please us or pain, according to the thought +We take of them. Some smile at their own death, +Which most do shrink from, as beast of prey +It kills to look upon. But you, who take +Such pity of the deer, whence follows it +You hunt more costly game?--the comely maid, +To wit, that waits on buxom Widow Green? + +Hum. The comely maid! Such term not half the sum +Of her rich beauty gives! Were rule to go +By loveliness, I knew not in the court, +Or city, lady might not fitly serve +That lady serving-maid! + +True. Come! your defence? +Why show you ruth where there's least argument, +Deny it where there's most? You will not plead? +Oh, Master Waller, where we use to hunt +We think the sport no crime! + +Hum. I give you joy, +You prosper in your chase. + +Wal. Not so! The maid +In simple honesty I must pronounce +A miracle of virtue, well as beauty. + +Nev. And well do I believe you, Master Waller; +Those know I who have ventured gift and promise +But for a minute of her ear--the boon +Of a poor dozen words spoke through a chink - +And come off bootless, save the haughty scorn +That cast their bounties back to them again. + +True. That warrants her what Master Waller speaks her. +Is she so very fair? + +Nev. Yes, Master Trueworth; +And I believe indeed an honest maid: +But Love's the coin to market with for love, +And that knows Master Waller. On pretence +Of sneaking kindness for gay Widow Green, +He visits her, for sake of her fair maid! +To whom a glance or word avails to hint +His proper errand; and--as glimpses only +Do only serve to whet the wish to see - +Awakens interest to hear the tale +So stintingly that's told. I know his practice - +Luck to you, Master Waller! If you win, +You merit it, who take the way to win! + +Wal. Good Master Neville! + +True. I should laugh to see +The poacher snared!--the maid, for mistress sought, +Turn out a wife. + +Nev. How say you, Master Waller? +Things quite as strange have fallen! + +Wed. Impossible! + +True. Impossible! Most possible of things - +If thou'rt in love! Where merit lies itself, +What matters it to want the name, which weighed, +Is not the worth of so much breath as it takes +To utter it! If, but from Nature's hand, +She is all you could expect of gentle blood, +Face, form, mien, speech; with these, what to belong +To lady more behoves--thoughts delicate, +Affections generous, and modesty - +Perfectionating, brightening crown of all! - +If she hath these--true titles to thy heart - +What does she lack that's title to thy hand? +The name of lady, which is none of these, +But may belong without? Thou mightst do worse +Than marry her. Thou wouldst, undoing her, +Yea, by my mother's name, a shameful act +Most shamefully performed! + +Wal. [Starting up and drawing.] Sir! + +Nev. [And the others, interposing.] Gentlemen! + +True. All's right! Sit down!--I will not draw again. +A word with you: If--as a man--thou sayest, +Upon thy honour, I have spoken wrong, +I'll ask thy pardon!--though I never hold +Communion with thee more! + +Wal. [After a pause, putting up his sword.] +My sword is sheathed? +Wilt let me take thy hand? + +True. 'Tis thine, good sir, +And faster than before--A fault confessed +Is a new virtue added to a man! +Yet let me own some blame was mine. A truth +May be too harshly told--but 'tis a theme +I am tender on--I had a sister, sir, +You understand me!--'Twas my happiness +To own her once--I would forget her now! - +I have forgotten!--I know not if she lives! - +Things of such strain as we were speaking of, +Spite of myself, remind me of her!--So! - + +Nev. Sit down! Let's have more wine. + +Wild. Not so, good sirs. +Partaking of your hospitality, +I have overlooked good friends I came to visit, +And who have late become sojourners here - +Old country friends and neighbours, and with whom +I e'en take up my quarters. Master Trueworth, +Bear witness for me. + +True. It is even so. +Sir William Fondlove and his charming daughter. + +Wild. Ay, neighbour Constance. Charming, does he say? +Yes, neighbour Constance is a charming girl +To those that do not know her. If she plies me +As hard as was her custom in the country, +I should not wonder though, this very day, +I seek the home I quitted for a month! [Aside.] + +Good even, gentlemen. + +Hum. Nay, if you go, +We all break up, and sally forth together. + +Wal. Be it so--Your hand again, good Master Trueworth! +I am sorry I did pain you. + +True. It is thine, sir. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's House.--A Room. + + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +Sir Wil. At sixty-two, to be in leading-strings, +Is an old child--and with a daughter, too! +Her mother held me ne'er in check so strait +As she. I must not go but where she likes, +Nor see but whom she likes, do anything +But what she likes!--A slut bare twenty-one! +Nor minces she commands! A brigadier +More coolly doth not give his orders out +Than she! Her waiting-maid is aide-de-camp; +My steward adjutant; my lacqueys serjeants; +That bring me her high pleasure how I march +And counter-march--when I'm on duty--when +I'm off--when suits it not to tell it me +Herself--"Sir William, thus my mistress says!" +As saying it were enough--no will of mine +Consulted! I will marry. Must I serve, +Better a wife, my mistress, than a daughter! +And yet the vixen says, if I do marry, +I'll find she'll rule my wife, as well as me! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Ah, Master Trueworth! Welcome, Master Trueworth! + +True. Thanks, sir; I am glad to see you look so well! + +Sir Wil. Ah, Master Trueworth, when one turns the hill, +'Tis rapid going down! We climb by steps; +By strides we reach the bottom. Look at me, +And guess my age. + +True. Turned fifty. + +Sir Wil. Ten years more! +How marvellously well I wear! I think +You would not flatter me!--But scan me close, +And pryingly, as one who seeks a thing +He means to find--What signs of age dost see? + +True. None! + +Sir Wil. None about the corners of the eyes? +Lines that diverge like to the spider's joists, +Whereon he builds his airy fortalice? +They call them crow's feet--has the ugly bird +Been perching there?--Eh?--Well? + +True. There's something like, +But not what one must see, unless he's blind +Like steeple on a hill! + +Sir Wil. [After a pause.] Your eyes are good! +I am certainly a wonder for my age; +I walk as well as ever! Do I stoop? + +True. A plummet from your head would find your heel. + +Sir Wil. It is my make--my make, good Master Trueworth; +I do not study it. Do you observe +The hollow in my back? That's natural. +As now I stand, so stood I when a child, +A rosy, chubby boy!--I am youthful to +A miracle! My arm is firm as 'twas +At twenty. Feel it! + +True. [Feeling SIR WILLIAM'S arm.] It is deal! + +Sir Wil. Oak--oak, +Isn't it, Master Trueworth? Thou hast known me +Ten years and upwards. Thinkest my leg is shrunk? + +True. No. + +Sir Wil. No! not in the calf? + +True. As big a calf +As ever! + +Sir Wil. Thank you, thank you--I believe it! +When others waste, 'tis growing-time with me! +I feel it, Master Trueworth! Vigour, sir, +In every joint of me--could run!--could leap! +Why shouldn't I marry? Knife and fork I play +Better than many a boy of twenty-five - +Why shouldn't I marry? If they come to wine, +My brace of bottles can I carry home, +And ne'er a headache. Death! why shouldn't I marry? + +True. I see in nature no impediment. + +Sir Wil. Impediment? She's all appliances! - +And fortune's with me, too! The Widow Green +Gives hints to me. The pleasant Widow Green +Whose fortieth year, instead of autumn, brings, +A second summer in. Odds bodikins, +How young she looks! What life is in her eyes! +What ease is in her gait!--while, as she walks, +Her waist, still tapering, takes it pliantly! +How lollingly she bears her head withal: +On this side now--now that! When enters she +A drawing-room, what worlds of gracious things +Her curtsey says!--she sinks with such a sway, +Greeting on either hand the company, +Then slowly rises to her state again! +She is the empress of the card-table! +Her hand and arm!--Gods, did you see her deal - +With curved and pliant wrist dispense the pack, +Which, at the touch of her fair fingers fly! +How soft she speaks--how very soft! Her voice +Comes melting from her round and swelling throat, +Reminding you of sweetest, mellowest things - +Plums, peaches, apricots, and nectarines - +Whose bloom is poor to paint her cheeks and lips. +By Jove, I'll marry! + +True. You forget, Sir William, +I do not know the lady. + +Sir Wil. Great your loss. +By all the gods I'll marry!--but my daughter +Must needs be married first. She rules my house; +Would rule it still, and will not have me wed. +A clever, handsome, darling, forward minx! +When I became a widower, the reins +Her mother dropped she caught,--a hoyden girl; +Nor, since, would e'er give up; howe'er I strove +To coax or catch them from her. One way still +Or t'other she would keep them--laugh, pout, plead; +Now vanquish me with water, now with fire; +Would box my face, and, ere I well could ope +My mouth to chide her, stop it with a kiss! +The monkey! What a plague she's to me! How +I love her! how I love the Widow Green! + +True. Then marry her! + +Sir Wil. I tell thee, first of all +Must needs my daughter marry. See I not +A hope of that; she nought affects the sex: +Comes suitor after suitor--all in vain. +Fast as they bow she curtsies, and says, "Nay!" +Or she, a woman, lacks a woman's heart, +Or hath a special taste which none can hit. + +True. Or taste, perhaps, which is already hit. + +Sir Wil. Eh!--how? + +True. Remember you no country friend, +Companion of her walks--her squire to church, +Her beau whenever she went visiting - +Before she came to town? + +Sir Wil. No! + +True. None?--art sure? +No playmate when she was a girl? + +Sir Wil. O! ay! +That Master Wildrake, I did pray thee go +And wait for at the inn; but had forgotten. +Is he come? + +True. And in the house. Some friends that met him, +As he alighted, laid strong hands upon Him, +And made him stop for dinner. We had else +Been earlier with you. + +Sir Wil. Ha! I am glad he is come. + +True. She may be smit with him. + +Sir Wil. As cat with dog! + +True. He heard her voice as we did mount the stairs, +And darted straight to join her. + +Sir Wil. You shall see +What wondrous calm and harmony take place, +When fire meets gunpowder! + +Con. [Without.] Who sent for you? +What made you come? + +Wild. [Without.] To see the town, not you! A kiss! + +Con. I vow I'll not. + +Wild. I swear you shall. + +Con. A saucy cub! I vow, I had as lief +Your whipper-in had kissed me. + +Sir Wil. Do you hear? + +True. I do. Most pleasing discords! + +[Enter CONSTANCE and WILDRAKE.] + +Con. Father, speak +To neighbour Wildrake! + +Sir Wil. Very glad to see him! + +Wild. I thank you, good Sir William! Give you joy +Of your good looks! + +Con. What, Phoebe!--Phoebe!--Phoebe! + +Sir Wil. What wantest thou with thy lap-dog? + +Con. Only, sir, +To welcome neighbour Wildrake! What a figure +To show himself in town! + +Sir Wil. Wilt hold thy peace? + +Con. Yes; if you'll lesson me to hold my laughter! +Wildrake. + +Wild. Well? + +Con. Let me walk thee in the Park - +How they would stare at thee! + +Sir Wil. Wilt ne'er give o'er? + +Wild. Nay, let her have her way--I heed her not! +Though to more courteous welcome I have right; +Although I am neighbour Wildrake! Reason is reason! + +Con. And right is right! so welcome, neighbour Wildrake, +I am very, very, very glad to see you! +Come, for a quarter of an hour we'll e'en +Agree together! How do your horses, neighbour? + +Wild. Pshaw! + +Con. And your dogs? + +Wild. Pshaw! + +Con. Whipper-in and huntsman? + +Sir Wil. Converse of things thou knowest to talk about! + +Con. And keep him silent, father, when I know +He cannot talk of any other things? +How does thy hunter? What a sorry trick +He played thee t'other day, to balk his leap +And throw thee, neighbour! Did he balk the leap? +Confess! You sportsmen never are to blame! +Say you are fowlers, 'tis your dog's in fault! +Say you are anglers, 'tis your tackle's wrong; +Say you are hunters, why the honest horse +That bears your weight, must bear your blunders too! +Why, whither go you? + +Wild. Anywhere from thee. + +Con. With me you mean. + +Wild. I mean it not. + +Con. You do! +I'll give you fifty reasons for't--and first, +Where you go, neighbour, I'll go! + +[They go out--WILDRAKE, pettishly--CONSTANCE laughing.] + +Sir Wil. Do you mark? +Much love is there! + +True. Indeed, a heap, or none! +I'd wager on the heap! + +Sir Wil. Ay!--Do you think +These discords, as in the musicians' art, +Are subtle servitors to harmony? +That all this war's for peace? This wrangling but +A masquerade where love his roguish face +Conceals beneath an ugly visor!--Well? + +True. Your guess and my conceit are not a mile +Apart. Unlike to other common flowers, +The flower of love shews various in the bud; +'Twill look a thistle, and 'twill blow a rose! +And with your leave I'll put it to the test; +Affect myself, for thy fair daughter, love - +Make him my confidant--dilate to him +Upon the graces of her heart and mind, +Feature and form--that well may comment bear - +Till--like the practised connoisseur, who finds +A gem of heart out in a household picture +The unskilled owner held so cheap he grudged +Renewal of the chipped and tarnished frame, +But values now as priceless--I arouse him +Into a quick sense of the worth of that +Whose merit hitherto, from lack of skill, +Or dulling habit of acquaintanceship, +He has not been awake to. + +Con. [Without.] Neighbour Wildrake! + +Sir Wil. Hither they come. I fancy well thy game! +O to be free to marry Widow Green! +I'll call her hence anon--then ply him well. + +[SIR WILLIAM goes out.] + +Wild. [Without.] Nay, neighbour Constance! + +True. He is high in storm. + +[Enter WILDRAKE and CONSTANCE.] + +Wild. To Lincolnshire, I tell thee. + +Con. Lincolnshire! +What, prithee, takes thee off to Lincolnshire? + +Wild. Too great delight in thy fair company. + +True. Nay, Master Wildrake, why away so soon? +You are scarce a day in town!--Extremes like this, +And starts of purpose, are the signs of love. +Though immatured as yet. [Aside.] + +Con. He's long enough +In town! What should he here? He's lost in town: +No man is he for concerts, balls, or routs! +No game he knows at cards, save rare Pope Joan! +He ne'er could master dance beyond a jig; +And as for music, nothing to compare +To the melodious yelping of a hound, +Except the braying of his huntsman's horn! +Ask HIM to stay in town! + +Sir Wil. [Without.] Hoa, Constance! + +Con. Sir! - +Neighbour, a pleasant ride to Lincolnshire! +Good-bye! + +Sir Wil. [Without.] Why, Constance! + +Con. Coming, sir. Shake hands! +Neighbour, good-bye! Don't look so woe-begone; +'Tis but a two-days' ride, and thou wilt see +Rover, and Spot, and Nettle, and the rest +Of thy dear country friends! + +Sir Wil. [Without.] Constance! I say. + +Con. Anon!--Commend me to the gentle souls, +And pat them for me!--Will you, neighbour Wildrake? + +Sir Wil. [Without.] Why, Constance! Constance! + +Con. In a moment, sir! +Good-bye!--I'd cry, dear neighbour--if I could! +Good-bye!--A pleasant day when next you hunt! +And, prithee, mind thy horse don't balk his leap! +Good-bye!--and, after dinner, drink my health! +"A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!"--Do! - +And give it with a speech, wherein unfold +My many graces, more accomplishments, +And virtues topping either--in a word, +How I'm the fairest, kindest, best of neighbours! + +[They go out severally.--TRUEWORTH trying to pacify WILDRAKE-- +CONSTANCE laughing.] + + + +ACT II. + + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William's House. + + +[Enter TRUEWORTH and WILDRAKE.] + +Wild. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone! +She treats me worse and worse! I am a stock, +That words have none to pay her. For her sake +I quit the town to-day. I like a jest, +But hers are jests past bearing. I am her butt, +She nothing does but practise on! A plague! - +Fly her shafts ever your way? + +True. Would they did! + +Wild. Art mad?--or wishest she should drive thee so? + +True. Thou knowest her not. + +Wild. I know not neighbour Constance? +Then know I not myself, or anything +Which as myself I know! + +True. Heigh ho! + +Wild. Heigh ho! +Why what a burden that for a man's song! +Would fit a maiden that was sick for love. +Heigh ho! Come ride with me to Lincolnshire, +And turn thy "Heigh ho!" into "hilly ho!" + +True. Nay, rather tarry thou in town with me. +Men sometimes find a friend's hand of avail, +When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me thine? + +Wild. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase! + +True. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of that? +I'm for the steeple--not to ride a race, +Only to get there!--nor alone, in sooth, +But in fair company. + +Wild. Thou'rt not in love! + +True. Heigh ho! + +Wild. Thou wouldst not marry! + +True. With your help. + +Wild. And whom, I prithee? + +True. Gentle Mistress Constance! + +Wild. What!--neighbour Constance?--Never did I dream +That mortal man would fall in love with her. [Aside.] +In love with neighbour Constance!--I feel strange +At thought that she should marry!--[Aside.] Go to church +With neighbour Constance! That's a steeple-chase +I never thought of. I feel very strange! +What seest in neighbour Constance? + +True. Lovers' eyes +See with a vision proper to themselves; +Yet thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm. +First, then, I see in her the mould express +Of woman--stature, feature, body, limb - +Breathing the gentle sex we value most, +When most 'tis at antipodes with ours! + +Wild. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman. +Why, yes; she is a woman, certainly. + +True. So much for person. Now for her complexion. +What shall we liken to her dainty skin? +Her arm, for instance? - + +Wild. Snow will match it. + +True. Snow! +It is her arm without the smoothness on't; +Then is not snow transparent. 'Twill not do. + +Wild. A pearl's transparent! + +True. So it is, but yet +Yields not elastic to the thrilled touch! +I know not what to liken to her arm +Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be +The chosen friend of two such neighbours! + +Wild. Would +His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free +With neighbour Constance! Can't he let her arms +Alone! I trust their chosen friend +Will ne'er be he! I'm vexed. [Aside.] + +True. But graceful things +Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use! +Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room? + +Wild. [Snappishly.] No. + +True. No! Why, where have been your eyes? + +Wild. In my head! +But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.] + +True. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which +She floats as though she were a form of air; +The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't; +Her movements are the painting of the strain, +Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness! +Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment +Another one, and each, except its fellow, +Without a peer! You have danced with her! + +Wild. I hate +To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course +You have danced with her? + +True. I have. + +Wild. You have? + +True. I have. + +Wild. I do abominate to dance!--could carve +Fiddlers and company! A dancing man +To me was ever like a dancing dog! +Save less to be endured.--Ne'er saw I one +But I bethought me of the master's whip. + +True. A man might bear the whip to dance with her! + +Wild. Not if I had the laying of it on! + +True. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme. + +Wild. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.] + +True. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp! +How well she sings to them! Whoe'er would prove +The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing, +Especially a love-song! + +Wild. Does she sing +Such songs to thee? + +True. Oh, yes, and constantly. +For such I ever ask her. + +Wild. Forward minx! [Aside.] +Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen! +Think'st neighbour Constance is a girl to love? + +True. A girl to love?--Ay, and with all her soul! + +Wild. How know you that? + +True. I have studied close the sex. + +Wild. You town-rakes are the devil for the sex! [Aside.] + +True. Not your most sensitive and serious maid +I'd always take for deep impressions. Mind +The adage of the bow. The pensive brow +I have oft seen bright in wedlock, and anon +O'ercast in widowhood; then, bright again. +Ere half the season of the weeds was out; +While, in the airy one, I have known one cloud +Forerunner of a gloom that ne'er cleared up - +So would it prove with neighbour Constance. Not +On superficial grounds she'll ever love; +But once she does, the odds are ten to one +Her first love is her last! + +Wild. I wish I ne'er +Had come to town! I was a happy man +Among my dogs and horses. [Aside.] Hast thou broke +Thy passion to her? + +True. Never. + +Wild. Never? + +True. No. +I hoped you'd act my proxy there. + +Wild. I thank you. + +True. I knew 'twould be a pleasure to you. + +Wild. Yes; +A pleasure!--an unutterable pleasure! + +True. Thank you! You make my happiness your own. + +Wild. I do. + +True. I see you do. Dear Master Wildrake! +Oh, what a blessing is a friend in need! +You'll go and court your neighbour for me? + +Wild. Yes. + +True. And says she "nay" at first, you'll press again? + +Wild. Ay, and again! + +True. There's one thing I mistrust--yea, most mistrust, +That of my poor deserts you'll make too much. + +Wild. Fear anything but that. + +True. 'Twere better far +You slightly spoke of them. + +Wild. You think so? + +True. Yes. +Or rather did not speak of them at all. + +Wild. You think so? + +True. Yes. + +Wild. Then I'll not say a word +About them. + +True. Thank you! A judicious friend +Is better than a zealous: you are both! +I see you'll plead my cause as 'twere your own; +Then stay in town, and win your neighbour for me; +Make me the envy of a score of men +That die for her as I do. Make her mine, +And when the last "Amen!" declares complete +The mystic tying of the holy knot, +And 'fore the priest a blushing wife she stands, +Be thine the right to claim the second kiss +She pays for change from maidenhood to wifehood. + +[Goes out.] + +Wild. Take that thyself! The first be mine, or none! +A man in love with neighbour Constance! Never +Dreamed I that such a thing could come to pass! +Such person, such endowments, such a soul! +I never thought to ask myself before +If she were man or woman! Suitors, too, +Dying for her! I'll e'en make one among 'em! +Woo her to go to church along with him, +And for my pains the privilege to take +The second kiss? I'll take the second kiss, +And first one too--and last! No man shall touch +Her lips but me. I'll massacre the man +That looks upon her! Yet what chance have I +With lovers of the town, whose study 'tis +To please your lady belles!--who dress, walk, talk, +To hit their tastes--what chance, a country squire +Like me? Yet your true fair, I have heard, prefers +The man before his coat at any time; +And such a one may neighbour Constance be. +I'll show a limb with any of them! Silks +I'll wear, nor keep my legs in cases more. +I'll learn to dance town-dances, and frequent +Their concerts! Die away at melting strains, +Or seem to do so--far the easier thing, +And as effective quite; leave naught undone +To conquer neighbour Constance. + +[Enter LASH.] + +Lash. Sir. + +Wild. Well, sir? + +Lash. So please you, sir, your horse is at the door. + +Wild. Unsaddle him again and put him up. +And, hark you, get a tailor for me, sir - +The rarest can be found. + +Lash. The man's below, sir, +That owns the mare your worship thought to buy. + +Wild. Tell him I do not want her, sir. + +Lash. I vow +You will not find her like in Lincolnshire. + +Wild. Go to! She's spavined. + +Lash. Sir! + +Wild. Touched in the wind. + +Lash. I trust my master be not touched in the head! +I vow, a faultless beast! [Aside.] + +Wild. I want her not, +And that's your answer. Go to the hosier's, sir, +And bid him send me samples of his gear, +Of twenty different kinds. + +Lash. I will, sir.--Sir! + +Wild. Well, sir. + +Lash. Squire Brush's huntsman's here, and says +His master's kennel is for sale. + +Wild. The dogs +Are only fit for hanging! - + +Lash. Finer bred - + +Wild. Sirrah, if more to me thou talkest of dogs, +Horses, or aught that to thy craft belongs, +Thou mayst go hang for me!--A cordwainer +Go fetch me straight--the choicest in the town. +Away, sir! Do thy errands smart and well +As thou canst crack thy whip! [LASH goes out.] +Dear neighbour Constance, +I'll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II. + + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN and LYDIA.] + +W. Green. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller calls, +I shall be in at three; and say the same +To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet! - +What progress, think you, make I in the heart +Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl, +It is a heart to win and man as well! +How speed I, think you? Didst, as I desired, +Detain him in my absence when he called, +And, without seeming, sound him touching me? + +Lydia. Yes. + +W. Green. And effects he me, or not? How guess you? +What said he of me? Looked he balked, or not, +To find me not at home? Inquired he when +I would be back, as much he longed to see me? +What did he--said he? Come!--Is he in love, +Or like to fall into it? Goes well my game, +Or shall I have my labour for my pains? + +Lydia. I think he is in love.--O poor evasion! +O to love truth, and yet not dare to speak it! [Aside.] + +W. Green. You think he is in love--I'm sure of it. +As well have asked you has he eyes and ears, +And brain and heart to use them? Maids do throw +Trick after trick away, but widows know +To play their cards! How am I looking, Lydia? + +Lydia. E'en as you ever look. + +W. Green. Handsome, my girl? +Eh? Clear in my complexion? Eh?--brimful +Of spirits? not too much of me, nor yet +Too little?--Eh?--A woman worth a man? +Look at me, Lydia! Would you credit, girl, +I was a scarecrow before marriage? + +Lydia. Nay! - + +W. Green. Girl, but I tell thee "yea." That gown of thine - +And thou art slender--would have hung about me! +There's something of me now! good sooth, enough! +Lydia, I'm quite contented with myself; +I'm just the thing, methinks, a widow should be. +So, Master Waller, you believe, affects me? +But, Lydia, not enough to hook the fish; +To prove the angler's skill, it must be caught; +And lovers, Lydia, like the angler's prey - +Which, when he draws it near the landing-place, +Takes warning and runs out the slender line, +And with a spring perchance jerks off the hold +When we do fish for them, and hook, and think +They are all but in the creel, will make the dart +That sets them free to roam the flood again! + +Lydia. Is't so? + +W. Green. Thou'lt find it so, or better luck +Than many another maid! Now mark me, Lydia: +Sir William Fondlove fancies me. 'Tis well! +I do not fancy him! What should I do +With an old man?--Attend upon the gout, +Or the rheumatics! Wrap me in the cloud +Of a darkened chamber--'stead of shining out, +The sun of balls, and routs, and gala-days! +But he affects me, Lydia; so he may! +Now take a lesson from me--Jealousy +Had better go with open, naked breast, +Than pin or button with a gem. Less plague, +The plague-spot; that doth speedy make an end +One way or t'other, girl. Yet, never love +Was warm without a spice of jealousy. +Thy lesson now--Sir William Fondlove's rich, +And riches, though they're paste, yet being many, +The jewel love we often cast away for. +I use him but for Master Waller's sake. +Dost like my policy? + +Lydia. You will not chide me? + +W. Green. Nay, Lydia, I do like to hear thy thoughts, +They are such novel things--plants that do thrive +With country air! I marvel still they flower, +And thou so long in town! Speak freely, girl! + +Lydia. I cannot think love thrives by artifice, +Or can disguise its mood, and show its face. +I would not hide one portion of my heart +Where I did give it and did feel 'twas right, +Nor feign a wish, to mask a wish that was, +Howe'er to keep it. For no cause except +Myself would I be loved. What were't to me, +My lover valued me the more, the more +He saw me comely in another's eyes, +When his alone the vision I would show +Becoming to? I have sought the reason oft, +They paint Love as a child, and still have thought, +It was because true love, like infancy, +Frank, trusting, unobservant of its mood, +Doth show its wish at once, and means no more! + +W. Green. Thou'lt find out better when thy time doth come. +Now wouldst believe I love not Master Waller? +I never knew what love was, Lydia; +That is, as your romances have it. First, +I married for a fortune. Having that, +And being freed from him that brought it me, +I marry now, to please my vanity, +A man that is the fashion. O the delight +Of a sensation, and yourself the cause! +To note the stir of eyes, and ears, and tongues, +When they do usher Mistress Waller in, +Late Widow Green, her hand upon the arm +Of her young, handsome husband!--How my fan +Will be in requisition--I do feel +My heart begin to flutter now--my blood +To mount into my cheek! My honeymoon +Will be a month of triumphs!--"Mistress Waller!" +That name, for which a score of damsels sigh, +And but the widow had the wit to win! +Why, it will be the talk of east to west, +And north and south!--The children loved the man, +And lost him so--I liked, but there I stopped; +For what is it to love, but mind and heart +And soul upon another to depend? +Depend upon another? Nothing be +But what another wills? Give up the rights +Of mine own brain and heart? I thank my stars +I never came to that extremity. + +[Goes out.] + +Lydia. She never loved, indeed! She knows not love, +Except what's told of it! She never felt it. +To stem a torrent, easy, looking at it; +But once you venture in, you nothing know +Except the speed with which you're borne away, +Howe'er you strive to check it. She suspects not +Her maid, not she, brings Master Waller hither. +Nor dare I undeceive her. Well might she say +Her young and handsome husband! Yet his face +And person are the least of him, and vanish +When shines his soul out through his open eye! +He all but says he loves me! His respect +Has vanquished me! He looks the will to speak +His passion, and the fear that ties his tongue - +The fear? He loves not honestly, and yet +I'll swear he loves--I'll swear he honours me! +It is but my condition is a bar, +Denies him give me all. But knew he me +As I do know myself! Whate'er his purpose, +When next we speak, he shall declare it to me. + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE, dressed for riding, and PHOEBE.] + +Con. Well, Phoebe, would you know me? Are those locks +That cluster on my forehead and my cheek, +Sufficient mask? Show I what I would seem, +A lady for the chase? My darkened brows +And heightened colour, foreign to my face, +Do they my face pass off for stranger too? +What think you? + +Phoebe. That he'll ne'er discover you. + +Con. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants +To speak with him, unless indeed it be +A man in lady's gear; I look so bold +And speak so gruff. Away! [PHOEBE goes out.] That I am glad +He stays in town, I own, but if I am, +'Tis only for the tricks I'll play upon him, +And now begin, persuading him his fame +Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither +On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot! +THIS he? Why, what has metamorphosed him. +And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman? +Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder, +Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air +The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +Wild. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands. + +Con. My veiled face denies me justice, sir, +Else would you see a maiden's blushing cheek +Do penance for her forwardness; too late, +I own, repented of. Yet if 'tis true, +By our own hearts of others we may judge, +Mine in no peril lies that's shown to you, +Whose heart, I'm sure, is noble. Worthy sir, +Souls attract souls when they're of kindred vein. +The life that you love, I love. Well I know, +'Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase, +You stand without a peer; and for myself +I dare avow 'mong such, none follows them +With heartier glee than I do. + +Wild. Churl were he +That would gainsay you, madam. + +Con. [Curtseying.] What delight +To back the flying steed, that challenges +The wind for speed!--seems native more of air +Than earth!--whose burden only lends him fire! - +Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport; +Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now! +He takes away my breath! He makes me reel! +I touch not earth--I see not--hear not. All +Is ecstasy of motion! + +Wild. You are used, +I see, to the chase. + +Con. I am, sir. Then the leap, +To see the saucy barrier, and know +The mettle that can clear it! Then, your time +To prove you master of the manege. Now +You keep him well together for a space, +Both horse and rider braced as you were one, +Scanning the distance--then you give him rein, +And let him fly at it, and o'er he goes +Light as a bird on wing. + +Wild. 'Twere a bold leap, +I see, that turned you, madam. + +Con. [Curtseying.] Sir, you're good! +And then the hounds, sir! Nothing I admire +Beyond the running of the well-trained pack. +The training's everything! Keen on the scent! +At fault none losing heart!--but all at work! +None leaving his task to another!--answering +The watchful huntsman's cautions, check, or cheer. +As steed his rider's rein! Away they go +How close they keep together! What a pack! +Nor turn, nor ditch, nor stream divides them--as +They moved with one intelligence, act, will! +And then the concert they keep up!--enough +To make one tenant of the merry wood, +To list their jocund music! + +Wild. You describe +The huntsman's pastime to the life. + +Con. I love it! +To wood and glen, hamlet and town, it is +A laughing holiday! Not a hill-top +But's then alive! Footmen with horsemen vie, +All earth's astir, roused with the revelry +Of vigour, health, and joy! Cheer awakes cheer, +While Echo's mimic tongue, that never tires, +Keeps up the hearty din! Each face is then +Its neighbour's glass--where Gladness sees itself, +And at the bright reflection grows more glad! +Breaks into tenfold mirth!--laughs like a child! +Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free! +Would scarce accept a kingdom, 'tis so rich! +Shakes hands with all, and vows it never knew +That life was life before! + +Wild. Nay, every way +You do fair justice, lady, to the chase; +But fancies change. + +Con. Such fancy is not mine. + +Wild. I would it were not mine, for your fair sake. +I have quite given o'er the chase. + +Con. You say not so! + +Wild. Forsworn, indeed, the sportsman's life, and grown, +As you may partly see, town-gentleman. +I care not now to mount a steed, unless +To amble 'long the street; no paces mind, +Except my own, to walk the drawing-room, +Or in the ball-room to come off with grace; +No leap for me, to match the light coupe; +No music like the violin and harp, +To which the huntsman's dog and horn I find +Are somewhat coarse and homely minstrelsy: +Then fields of ill-dressed rustics, you'll confess, +Are well exchanged for rooms of beaux and belles +In short, I've ta'en another thought of life - +Become another man! + +Con. The cause, I pray? + +Wild. The cause of causes, lady. + +Con. He's in love! [Aside.] + +Wild. To you, of women, I would name it last; +Yet your frank bearing merits like return; +I, that did hunt the game, am caught myself +In chase I never dreamed of! + +[Goes out.] + +Con. He is in love! +Wildrake's in love! 'Tis that keeps him in town, +Turns him from sportsman to town-gentleman. +I never dreamed that he could be in love! +In love with whom?--I'll find the vixen out! +What right has she to set her cap at him? +I warrant me, a forward, artful minx; +I hate him worse than ever. I'll do all +I can to spoil the match. He'll never marry - +Sure he will never marry! He will have +More sense than that! My back doth ope and shut - +My temples throb and shoot--I am cold and hot! +Were he to marry, there would be an end +To neighbour Constance--neighbour Wildrake--why, +I should not know myself! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH.] + +Dear Master Trueworth, +What think you!--neighbour Wildrake is in love! +In love! Would you believe it, Master Trueworth? +Ne'er heed my dress and looks, but answer me. +Knowest thou of any lady he has seen +That's like to cozen him? + +True. I am not sure - +We talked to-day about the Widow Green! + +Con. Her that my father fancies. Let him wed her! +Marry her to-morrow--if he will, to-night. +I can't spare neighbour Wildrake--neighbour Wildrake! +Although I would not marry him myself, +I could not hear that other married him! +Go to my father--'tis a proper match! +He has my leave! He's welcome to bring home +The Widow Green. I'll give up house and all! +She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake; +He would wear out her patience--plague her to death, +As he does me. She must not marry him! + +[They go out.] + + + +ACT III. + + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Widow Green's. + + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, following LYDIA.] + +Wal. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia. +Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself! +Thy own perfections 'tis that talk to thee. +Thy beauty rich!--thy richer grace!--thy mind, +More rich again than that, though richest each! +Except for these, I had no tongue for thee, +Eyes for thee!--ears!--had never followed thee! - +Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me! - + +Lydia. Love +Should seek its match. No match am I for thee. + +Wal. Right! Love should seek its match; and that is, love +Or nothing! Station--fortune--find their match +In things resembling them. They are not love! +Comes love (that subtle essence, without which +Life were but leaden dulness!--weariness! +A plodding trudger on a heavy road!) +Comes it of title-deeds which fools may boast? +Or coffers vilest hands may hold the keys of? +Or that ethereal lamp that lights the eyes +To shed the sparkling lustre o'er the face, +Gives to the velvet skin its blushing glow, +And burns as bright beneath the peasant's roof +As roof of palaced prince? Yes, Love should seek +Its match--then give my love its match in thine, +Its match which in thy gentle breast doth lodge +So rich--so earthly, heavenly fair and rich, +As monarchs have no thought of on their thrones, +Which kingdoms do bear up. + +Lydia. Wast thou a monarch, +Me wouldst thou make thy queen? + +Wal. I would. + +Lydia. What! Pass +A princess by for me? + +Wal. I would. + +Lydia. Suppose +Thy subjects would prevent thee? + +Wal. Then, in spite +Of them! + +Lydia. Suppose they were too strong for thee? + +Wal. Why, then I'd give them up my throne--content +With that thou'dst yield me in thy gentle breast. + +Lydia. Can subjects do what monarchs do? + +Wal. Far more! +Far less! + +Lydia. Among those things, where more their power, +Is marriage one? + +Wal. Yes. + +Lydia. And no part of love, +You say, is rank or wealth? + +Wal. No part of love. + +Lydia. Is marriage part of love? + +Wal. At times it is, +At times is not. Men love and marry--love +And marry not. + +Lydia. Then have they not the power; +So must they hapless part with those they love. + +Wal. Oh, no! not part! How could they love and part? + +Lydia. How could they love not part, not free to wed? + +Wal. Alone in marriage doth not union lie! + +Lydia. Alone where hands are free! O yes--alone! +Love that is love, bestoweth all it can! +It is protection, if 'tis anything, +Which nothing in its object leaves exposed +Its care can shelter. Love that's free to wed, +Not wedding, but profanes the name of love; +Which is, on high authority to Earth's, +For Heaven did sit approving at its feast, +A holy thing! Why make you love to me? +Women whose hearts are free, by nature tender, +Their fancies hit by those they are besought by, +Do first impressions quickly--deeply take; +And, balked in their election, have been known +To droop a whole life through! Gain for a maid, +A broken heart!--to barter her young love, +And find she changed it for a counterfeit! + +Wal. If there is truth in man, I love thee! Hear me! +In wedlock, families claim property. +Old notions, which we needs must humour often, +Bar us to wed where we are forced to love! +Thou hear'st? + +Lydia. I do. + +Wal. My family is proud; +Our ancestor, whose arms we bear, did win +An earldom by his deeds. 'Tis not enough +I please myself! I must please others, who +Desert in wealth and station only see. +Thou hear'st? + +Lydia. I do. + +Wal. I cannot marry thee, +And must I lose thee? Do not turn away! +Without the altar I can honour thee! +Can cherish thee, nor swear it to the priest; +For more than life I love thee! + +Lydia. Say thou hatest me, +And I'll believe thee! Wherein differs love +From hate, to do the work of hate--destroy? +Thy ancestor won title to his deeds! +Was one of them, to teach an honest maid +The deed of sin--first steal her love, and then +Her virtue? If thy family is proud, +Mine, sir, is worthy! if we are poor, the lack +Of riches, sir, is not the lack of shame, +That I should act a part, would raise a blush, +Nor fear to burn an honest brother's cheek! +Thou wouldest share a throne with me! Thou wouldst rob me of +A throne!--reduce me from dominion to +Base vassalage!--pull off my crown for me, +And give my forehead in its place a brand! +You have insulted me. To shew you, sir, +The heart you make so light of, you are beloved - +But she that tells you so, tells you beside +She ne'er beholds you more! + +[Goes out.] + +Wal. Stay, Lydia!--No! +'Tis vain! She is in virtue resolute, +As she is bland and tender in affection. +She is a miracle, beholding which +Wonder doth grow on wonder! What a maid! +No mood but doth become her--yea, adorn her. +She turns unsightly anger into beauty! +Sour scorn grows sweetness, touching her sweet lips! +And indignation, lighting on her brow, +Transforms to brightness as the cloud to gold +That overhangs the sun! I love her! Ay! +And all the throes of serious passion feel +At thought of losing her!--so my light love, +Which but her person did at first affect, +Her soul has metamorphosed--made a thing +Of solid thoughts and wishes--I must have her! + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, unnoticed SIR WALLER, who continues abstracted.] + +W. Green. What! Master Waller, and contemplative +Presumptive proof of love! Of me he thinks! +Revolves the point "to be or not to be!" +"To be!" by all the triumphs of my sex! +There was a sigh! My life upon't, that sigh, +If construed, would translate "Dear Widow Green!" + +Wal. Enchanting woman! + +W. Green. That is I!--most deep +Abstraction, sure concomitant of love. +Now, could I see his busy fancy's painting, +How should I blush to gaze upon myself. + +Wal. The matchless form of woman! The choice calling +Of the aspiring artist, whose ambition +Robs Nature to outdo her--the perfections +Of her rare various workmanship combines +To aggrandise his art at Nature's cost, +And make a paragon! + +W. Green. Gods! how he draws me! +Soon as he sees me, at my feet he falls! - +Good Master Waller! + +Wal. Ha! The Widow Green! + +W. Green. He is confounded! So am I. O dear! +How catching is emotion. He can't speak! +O beautiful confusion! Amiable +Excess of modesty with passion struggling! +Now comes he to declare himself, but wants +The courage. I must help him.--Master Waller! + +[Enter SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE.] + +Sir Wil. Dear Widow Green! + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove! + +Wal. Thank +My lucky stars! [Aside.] + +W. Green. I would he had the gout, +And kept his room! [Aside.]--You're welcome, dear Sir William! +'Tis very, very kind of you to call. +Sir William Fondlove--Master Waller. Pray +Be seated, gentlemen.--He shall requite me +For his untimely visit. Though the nail +Be driven home, it may want clinching yet +To make the hold complete! For that, I'll use him.--[Aside.] +You're looking monstrous well, Sir William! and +No wonder. You're a mine of happy spirits! +Some women talk of such and such a style +Of features in a man. Give me good humour; +That lights the homeliest visage up with beauty, +And makes the face, where beauty is already, +Quite irresistible! + +Sir Wil. That's hitting hard. [Aside.] +Dear Widow Green, don't say so! On my life +You flatter me. You almost make me blush. + +W. Green. I durst not turn to Master Waller now, +Nor need I. I can fancy how he looks! +I warrant me he scowls on poor Sir William, +As he could eat him up. I must improve +His discontent, and so make sure of him.--[Aside.] +I flatter you, Sir William! O, you men! +You men, that talk so meek, and all the while +Do know so well your power! Who would think +You had a marriageable daughter! You +Did marry very young. + +Sir Wil. A boy!--a boy! +Who knew not his own mind. + +W. Green. Your daughter's twenty. +Come, you at least were twenty when you married; +That makes you forty. + +Sir Wil. O dear! Widow Green. + +W. Green. Not forty? + +Sir Wil. You do quite embarrass me! +I own I have the feelings of a boy, +The freshness and the glow of spring-time, yet, - +The relish yet for my young schooldays' sports; +Could whip a top--could shoot at taw--could play +At prison-bars and leapfrog--so I might - +Not with a limb, perhaps, as supple, but +With quite as supple will. Yet I confess +To more than forty! + +W. Green. Do you say so? Well, +I'll never guess a man's age by his looks +Again.--Poor Master Waller! He must writhe +To hear I think Sir William is so young. +I'll turn his visit yet to more account.--[Aside.] +A handsome ring, Sir William, that you wear! + +Sir Wil. Pray look at it. + +W. Green. The mention of a ring +Will take away his breath. + +Wal. She must be mine +Whate'er her terms! [Aside.] + +W. Green. I'll steal a look at him! + +Wal. What! though it be the ring?--the marriage ring? +If that she sticks at, she deserves to wear it +Oh, the debate which love and prudence hold! [Aside.] + +W. Green. How highly he is wrought upon! His hands +Are clenched!--I warrant me his frame doth shake! +Poor Master Waller! I have filled his heart +Brimful with passion for me. The delight +Of proving thus my power! + +Sir Wil. Dear Widow Green! - +She hears not! How the ring hath set her thinking! +I'll try and make her jealous. [Aside.]--Widow Green! + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove! + +Sir Wil. Would you think that ring +Could tell a story? + +W. Green. Could it? Ah, Sir William, +I fear you are a rogue. + +Sir Wil. O no! + +W. Green. You are! + +Sir Wil. No, on my honour! Would you like to hear +The story of the ring? + +W. Green. Much--very much. + +Sir Wil. Think'st we may venture draw our chairs apart +A little more from Master Waller? + +W. Green. Yes. +He'll bring it to a scene! Dear--dear Sir William, +How much I am obliged to him! A scene! +Gods, we shall have a scene!--Good Master Waller, +Your leave I pray you for a minute, while +Sir William says a word or two to me. - +He durst not trust his tongue for jealousy!--[Aside.] +Now, dear Sir William! + +Sir Wil. You must promise me +You will not think me vain. + +W. Green. No fear of that. + +Sir Wil. Nor given to boast. + +W. Green. O! dear Sir William! + +Sir Wil. Nor +A flirt! + +W. Green. O! who would take you for a flirt? + +Sir Wil. How very kind you are! + +W. Green. Go on, Sir William. + +Sir Wil. Upon my life, I fear you'll think me vain! +I'm covered with confusion at the thought +Of what I've done. 'Twas very, very wrong +To promise you the story of the ring; +Men should not talk of such things. + +W. Green. Such as what? +As ladies' favours? + +Sir Wil. 'Pon my life, I feel +As I were like to sink into the earth. + +W. Green. A lady then it was gave you the ring? + +Sir Wil. Don't ask me to say yes, but only scan +The inside of the ring.--How much she's moved. [Aside.] + +Wal. They to each other company enough! +I, company for no one but myself. +I'll take my leave, nor trouble them to pay +The compliments of parting. Lydia! Lydia! + +[Goes out.] + +W. Green. What's here? "Eliza!" So it was a lady! - +How wondrously does Master Waller bear it! +He surely will not hold much longer out.--[Aside.] +Sir William! Nay, look up! What cause to cast +Your eyes upon the ground? What an it were +A lady? + +Sir Wil. You're not angry? + +W. Green. No! + +Sir Wil. She is. +I'll take the tone she speaks in 'gainst the word, +For fifty crowns.--I have not told you all +About the ring; though I would sooner die +Than play the braggart!--yet, as truth is truth, +And told by halves, may from a simple thing, +By misconstruction, to a monster grow, +I'll tell the whole truth! + +W. Green. Dear Sir William, do! + +Sir Wil. The lady was a maid, and very young; +Nor there in justice to her must I stop, +But say that she was beautiful as young; +And add to that that she was learned too, +Almost enough to win for her that title, +Our sex, in poor conceit of their own merits, +And narrow spirit of monopoly, +And jealousy, which gallantry eschews, +Do give to women who assert their right +To minds as well as we. + +W. Green. What! a blue-stocking? + +Sir Wil. I see--she'll come to calling names at last.--[Aside.] +I should offend myself to quote the term. +But, to return, for yet I have not done; +And further yet may go, then progress on +That she was young, that she was beautiful. +A wit and learned are naught to what's to come - +She had a heart! - + +W. Green. [Who during SIR WILLIAM'S speech has turned gradually.] +What, Master Waller gone! [Aside.] + +Sir Wil. I say she had a heart - + +W. Green. [Starting up--SIR WILLIAM also.] A plague upon her! + +Sir Wil. I knew she would break out! [Aside.] + +W. Green. Here, take the ring. It has ruined me! + +Sir Wil. I vow thou hast no cause +For anger! + +W. Green. Have I not? I am undone, +And all about that bauble of a ring. + +Sir Wil. You're right, it is a bauble. + +W. Green. And the minx +That gave it thee! + +Sir Wil. You're right, she was a minx. +I knew she'd come to calling names at last. [Aside.] + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove, leave me. + +Sir Wil. Widow Green! - + +W. Green. You have undone me, sir! + +Sir Wil. Don't say so! Don't! +It was a girl--a child gave me the ring! + +W. Green. Do you hear me, sir? I bade you leave me. + +Sir Wil. If +I thought you were so jealous - + +W. Green. Jealous, sir! +Sir William! quit my house. + +Sir Wil. A little girl +To make you jealous! + +W. Green. Sir, you'll drive me mad! + +Sir Wil. A child, a perfect child, not ten years old! + +W. Green. Sir, I would be alone, sir! + +Sir Wil. Young enough +To dandle still her doll! + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove! + +Sir Wil. Dear Widow Green! + +W. Green. I hate you, sir! Detest you! Never wish +To see you more! You have ruined me! Undone me! +A blighted life I wear, and all through you! +The fairest hopes that ever woman nourished, +You've cankered in the very blowing! bloom +And sweet destroyed, and nothing left me, but +The melancholy stem. + +Sir Wil. And all about +A little slut I gave a rattle to! - +Would pester me for gingerbread and comfits! - +A little roguish feigning! A love-trick +I played to prove your love! + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove! +If of my own house you'll not suffer me +To be the mistress, I will leave it to you! + +Sir Wil. Dear Widow Green! The ring - + +W. Green. Confound the ring, +The donor of it, thee, and everything! + +[Goes out.] + +Sir Wil. She is over head and ears in love with me! +She's mad with love! There's love and all its signs! +She's jealous of me unto very death! +Poor Widow Green! I warrant she is now +In tears! I think I hear her sob! Poor thing! +Sir William! Oh, Sir William! You have raised +A furious tempest! Set your wits to work +To turn it to a calm. No question that +She loves me! None then that she'll take me! So +I'll have the marriage settlements made out +To-morrow, and a special licence got, +And marry her the next day! I will make +Quick work of it, and take her by surprise! +Who but a widower a widow's match? +What could she see with else but partial eyes +To guess me only forty? I'm a wonder! +What shall I pass for in my wedding suit? +I vow I am a puzzle to myself, +As well as all the world besides. Odd's life! +To win the heart of buxom Widow Green! + +[Goes out.] + +[WIDOW GREEN re-enters with LYDIA.] + +W. Green. At last the dotard's gone! Fly, Lydia, fly, +This letter bear to Master Waller straight; +Quick, quick, or I'm undone! He is abused, +And I must undeceive him--own my love, +And heart and hand at his disposal lay. +Answer me not, my girl--obey me! Fly. + +[Goes out.] + +Lydia. Untowardly it falls!--I had resolved +This hour to tell her I must quit her service! +Go to his house! I will not disobey +Her last commands!--I'll leave it at the door, +And as it closes on me think I take +One more adieu of him! Hard destiny! + +[Goes out.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William's. + + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +Con. The booby! He must fall in love, indeed! +And now he's naught but sentimental looks +And sentences, pronounced 'twixt breath and voice! +And attitudes of tender languishment! +Nor can I get from him the name of her +Hath turned him from a stock into a fool. +He hems and haws, now titters, now looks grave! +Begins to speak and halts! takes off his eyes +To fall in contemplation on a chair, +A table, or the ceiling, wall, or floor! +I'll plague him worse and worse! O, here he comes! + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +Wild. Despite her spiteful usage I'm resolved +To tell her now. Dear neighbour Constance! + +Con. Fool! +Accost me like a lady, sir! I hate +The name of neighbour! + +Wild. Mistress Constance, then - +I'll call thee that. + +Con. Don't call me anything! +I hate to hear thee speak--to look at thee, +To dwell in the same house with thee! + +Wild. In what +Have I offended? + +Con. What!--I hate an ape! + +Wild. An ape! + +Con. Who bade thee ape the gentleman? +And put on dress that don't belong to thee? +Go! change thee with thy whipper-in or huntsman, +And none will doubt thou wearest thy own clothes. + +Wild. A pretty pass! Mocked for the very dress +I bought to pleasure her! Untoward things +Are women! [Aside. Walks backwards and forwards.] + +Con. Do you call that walking? Pray +What makes you twist your body so, and take +Such pains to turn your toes out? If you'd walk, +Walk thus! Walk like a man, as I do now! + +[Walking] + +Is yours the way a gentleman should walk? +You neither walk like man nor gentleman! +I'll show you how you walk. [Mimicking him.] +Do you call that walking? + +Wild. My thanks, for a drill-sergeant twice a day +For her sake! [Aside.] + +Con. Now, of all things in the world, +What made you dance last night? + +Wild. What made me dance? + +Con. Right! It was anything but dancing! Steps +That never came from dancing-school--nor English, +Nor Scotch, nor Irish! You must try to cut, +And how you did it! [Cuts.] That's the way to cut! +And then your chasse! Thus you went, and thus. + +[Mimicking him.] + +As though you had been playing at hop, step, +And jump!--and yet you looked so monstrous pleased, +And played the simpleton with such a grace, +Taking their tittering for compliment! +I could have boxed you soundly for't. Ten times +Denied I that I knew you. + +Wild. Twenty guineas +Were better in the gutter thrown than gone +To fee a dancing-master! [Aside.] + +Con. And you're grown +An amateur in music!--What fine air +Was that you praised last night?--"The Widow Jones!" +A country jig they turned into a song. +You asked "If it had come from Italy?" +The lady blushed and held her peace, and then +You blushed and said, "Perhaps it came from France!" +And then when blushed the lady more, nor spoke, +You said, "At least it came from Germany!" +The air was English!--a true English air; +A downright English air!--a common air; +Old as "When Good King Arthur." Not a square, +Court, alley, street, or lane about the town, +In which it is not whistled, played, or sung! +But you must have it come from Italy, +Or Germany, or France. Go home! Go home! +To Lincolnshire, and mind thy dog and horn! +You'll never do for town! "The Widow Jones" +To come from Italy! Stay not in town, +Or you'll be married to the Widow Jones, +Since you've forsworn, you say, the Widow Green! +And morn and night they'll din your ears with her! +"Well met, dear Master Wildrake. A fine day! +Pray, can you tell whence came the Widow Jones?" +They love a jest in town! To Lincolnshire! +You'll never do for town! To Lincolnshire; +"The Widow Jones" to come from Italy! + +[Goes out.] + +Wild. Confound the Widow Jones! 'Tis true! The air +Well as the huntsman's triple mort I know, +But knew not then indeed, 'twas so disguised +With shakes and flourishes, outlandish things, +That mar, not grace, an honest English song! +Howe'er, the mischief's done! and as for her, +She is either into hate or madness fallen. +If madness, would she had her wits again, +Or I my heart! If hate, my love's undone; +I'll give her up. I'll e'en to Master Trueworth, +Confess my treason--own my punishment - +Take horse, and back again to Lincolnshire! + +[Goes out.] + +Con. [Returning.] Not here! I trust I have not gone too far! +If he should quit the house! Go out of town! +Poor neighbour Wildrake! Little does he owe me! +From childhood I've been used to plague him thus. +Why would he fall in love, and spoil it all! +I feel as I could cry! He has no right +To marry any one! What wants he with +A wife? Has he not plague enough in me? +Would he be plagued with anybody else? +Ever since I have lived in town I have felt +The want of neighbour Wildrake! Not a soul +Besides I care to quarrel with; and now +He goes and gives himself to another! What! +Am I in love with neighbour Wildrake? No. +I only would not have him marry--marry? +Sooner I'd have him dead than have him marry! + + + +ACT IV. + + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Master Waller's House. + + +[Enter ALICE, hastily.] + +Alice. [Speaking to the outside.] Fly, Stephen, to the door! your +rapier! quick! - +Our master is beset, because of one +Whose part he takes, a maid, whom lawless men +Would lawlessly entreat! In what a world +We live!--How do I shake!--with what address +[Looking out of window.] +He lays about him, and his other arm +Engaged, in charge of her whom he defends! +A damsel worth a broil!--Now, Stephen, now! +Take off the odds, brave lad, and turn the scale! +I would I were a swordsman! How he makes +His rapier fly!--Well done!--O Heaven, there's blood. +But on the side that's wrong!--Well done, good Stephen! +Pray Heaven no life be ta'en!--Lay on, brave lad! +He has marked his man again. Good lad--Well done, +I pray no mischief come!--Press on him, Stephen! +Now gives he ground.--Follow thy advantage up! +Allow no pause for breaths!--Hit him again! +Forbid it end in death!--Lounge home, good Stephen! +How fast he now retreats!--That spring, I'll swear, +Was answer to thy point!--Well fenced!--Well fenced! +Now Heaven forefend it end in death!--He flies! +And from his comrade, the same moment, hath +Our master jerked his sword--The day is ours! +Quick may they get a surgeon for their wounds, +And I, a cordial for my fluttered spirits: +I vow, I'm nigh to swoon! + +Wal. [Without.] Hoa! Alice! Hoa! +Open the door! Quick, Alice! Quick! + +Alice. Anon! +Young joints take no thought of aged ones, +But ever think them as supple as themselves. + +Wal. Alice! + +Alice. [Opening the door.] I'm here!--A mercy! - +Is she dead? + +[Enter MASTER WALLER, bearing LYDIA, fainting.] + +Wal. No, she but faints.--A chair!--Quick, Alice, quick! +Water to bathe her temples. + +[ALICE goes out.] + +Such a turn +Kind fortune never do me. Shall I kiss +To life these frozen lips?--No!--of her plight +'Twere base to take advantage. + +[ALICE returns, &c.] + +All is well, +The blood returns. + +Alice. How wondrous fair she is! + +Wal. Thou think'st her so?--No wonder then should I. +How say you?--Wondrous fair? [Aside.] + +Alice. Yes; wondrous fair! +Harm never come to her! So sweet a thing +'Twere pity were abused! + +Wal. You think her fair? + +Alice. Ay, marry! Half so fair were more than match +For fairest she e'er saw mine eyes before! +And what a form! A foot and instep there! +Vouchers of symmetry! A little foot +And rising instep, from an ankle arching, +A palm, and that a little one, might span. + +Wal. Who taught thee thus? + +Alice. Why who, but her, taught thee? +Thy mother!--Heaven rest her!--Thy good mother! +She could read men and women by their hands +And feet!--And here's a hand!--A fairy palm! +Fingers that taper to the pinky tips, +With nails of rose, like shells of such a hue, +Berimmed with pearl, you pick up on the shore! +Save these the gloss and tint do wear without. + +Wal. Why, how thou talk'st! + +Alice. Did I not tell thee thus +Thy mother used to talk? Such hand and foot, +She would say, in man or woman vouched for nature +High tempered!--Still for sentiment refined; +Affection tender; apprehension quick - +Degrees beyond the generality! +There is a marriage finger! Curse the hand +Would balk it of a ring! + +Wal. She's quite restored, +Leave us!--Why cast'st thou that uneasy look? +Why linger'st thou? I'm not alone with her. +My honour's with her too. I would not wrong her. + +Alice. And if thou wouldst, thou'rt not thy mother's son. + +[Goes out.] + +Wal. You are better? + +Lydia. Much!--much! + +Wal. Know you him who durst +Attempt this violence in open day? +It seemed as he would force thee to his coach, +I saw attending. + +Lydia. Take this letter, sir, +And send the answer--I must needs be gone. + +Wal. [Throwing the letter away.] I read no letter! +Tell me, what of him +I saw offend thee? + +Lydia. He hath often met me, +And by design I think, upon the street, +And tried to win mine ear, which ne'er he got +Save only by enforcement. Presents--gifts - +Of jewels and of gold to wild amount, +To win an audience, hath he proffered me; +Until, methought, my silence--for my lips +Disdained reply were question was a wrong - +Had wearied him. Oh, sir, whate'er of life +Remains to me I had foregone, ere proved +The horror of this hour!--and you it is +That have protected me? + +Wal. Oh, speak not on't! + +Lydia. You that have saved me from mine enemy - + +Wal. I pray you to forget it. + +Lydia. From a foe +More dire than he that putteth life in peril - + +Wal. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me. + +Lydia. No! +I will not spare you.--You have brought me to safety, +You whom I fear worse than that baleful foe. + +[Rises to go.] + +Wal. [Kneeling and snatching her hand.] Lydia! + +Lydia. Now, make thy bounty perfect. Drop +My hand. That posture which dishonours thee, +Quit!--for 'tis shame on shame to show respect +Where we do feel disdain. Throw ope thy gate +And let me pass, and never seek with me, +By look, or speech, or aught, communion more! + +Wal. Thou saidst thou lovedst me? + +Lydia. Yes! when I believed +My tongue did take of thee its last adieu, +And now that I do know it--for be sure +It never bids adieu to thee again - +Again, I tell it thee! Release me, sir! +Rise!--and no hindrance to my will oppose. +That would be free to go. + +Wal. I cannot lose thee! + +Lydia. Thou canst not have me! + +Wal. No! + +Lydia. Thou canst not. I +Repeat it.--Yet I'm thine--thine every way, +Except where honour fences!--Honour, sir, +Not property of gentle blood alone; +Of gentle blood not always property! +Thou'lt not obey me. Still enforcest me! +Oh, what a contradiction is a man! +What in another he one moment spurns, +The next--he does himself complacently! + +Wal. Wouldst have me lose the hand that holds my life? + +Lydia. Hear me and keep it, if thou art a man! +I love thee--for thy benefit would give +The labour of that hand!--wear out my feet +Rack the invention of my mind!--the powers +Of my heart in one volition gather up! +My life expend, and think no more I gave +Than he who wins a priceless gem for thanks! +For such goodwill canst thou return me wrong? + +Wal. Yet, for awhile, I cannot let thee go. +Propound for me an oath that I'll not wrong thee! +An oath, which, if I break it, will entail +Forfeit of earth and heaven. I'll take it--so +Thou stay'st one hour with me. + +Lydia. No!--Not one moment! +Unhand me, or I shriek!--I know the summons +Will pierce into the street, and set me free! +I stand in peril while I'm near thee! She +Who knows her danger, and delays escape, +Hath but herself to thank, whate'er befalls! +Sir, I may have a woman's weakness, but +I have a woman's resolution, too, +And that's a woman's strength! +One moment more! - + +Wal. Lo! Thou art free to go! + +[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.] + +[LYDIA approaches the door--her pace slackens--she pauses with her +hand upon the lock--turns, and looks earnestly on WALLER.] + +Lydia. I have a word +To say to thee; if by thy mother's honour, +Thou swear'st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat. + +Wal. I swear as thou propound'st to me. + +Lydia. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, why - +Why have you used me thus? See what you've done! +Essayed to light a guilty passion up, +And kindled in its stead a holy one! +For I do love thee! Know'st thou not the wish +To find desert doth bring it oft to sight +Where yet it is not? so, for substance, passes +What only is a phantasm of our minds! +I feared thy love was guilty--yet my wish +To find it honest, stronger than my fear, +My fear with fatal triumph overthrew! +Now hope and fear give up to certainty, +And I must fly thee--yet must love thee still! + +Wal. Lydia! by all - + +Lydia. I pray you hear me out! +Was 't right? was 't generous? was 't pitiful? +One way or other I might be undone: +To love with sin--or love without a hope! + +Wal. Yet hear me, Lydia! - + +Lydia. Stop! I'm undone! +A maid without a heart--robbed of the soil, +Wherein life's hopes and wishes root and spring, +And thou the foe that did me so much hate, +And vowed me so much love!--but I forgive thee! +Yea, I do bless thee! + +[Rushing up and sinking at his feet.] + +Recollect thy oath! - +Or in thy heart lodged never germ of honour, +But 'tis a desert all! + +[She kisses his hand--presses it to her heart, and kisses it again.] + +Farewell then to thee! + +[Rises.] + +Mayst thou be happy. [Going.] + +Wal. Wouldst ensure the thing +Thou wishest? + +[She moves towards the door with a gesture that prohibits further +converse.] + +Stop! [She continues to move on.] +Oh, sternly resolute! [She still moves.] +I mean thee honour! + +[She stops and turns towards him.] + +Thou dost meditate - +I know it--flight. Give me some pause for thought, +But to confirm a mind almost made up. +If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then +Think me a friend far better lost than won! +Wilt thou do this? + +Lydia. I will. + +Wal. An hour decides. + +[They go out severalty.] + + +SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's House. + + +[Enter WILDRAKE and TRUEWORTH.] + +Wild. You are not angry? + +True. No; I knew the service +I sent you on was one of danger. + +Wild. Thank you. +Most kind you are--And you believe she loves me: +And your own hopes give up to favour mine. +Was ever known such kindness! Much I fear +'Twill cost you. + +True. Never mind! I'll try and bear it. + +Wild. That's right. No use in yielding to a thing. +Resolve does wonders! Shun the sight of her - +See other women!--Fifty to be found +As fair as she. + +True. I doubt it. + +Wild. Doubt it not. +Doubt nothing that gives promise of a care. +Right handsome dames there are in Lancashire, +Whence called their women, witches!--witching things! +I know a dozen families in which +You'd meet a courtesy worthy of a bow. +I'll give you letters to them. + +True. Will you? + +Wild. Yes. + +True. The worth of a disinterested friend! + +Wild. O Master Trueworth, deeply I'm your debtor +I own I die for love of neighbour Constance! +And thou to give her up for me! Kind friend! +What won't I do for thee?--Don't pine to death; +I'll find thee fifty ways to cure thy passion, +And make thee heart-whole, if thou'rt so resolved. +Thou shalt be master of my sporting stud, +And go a hunting. If that likes thee not, +Take up thy quarters at my shooting-lodge; +There is a cellar to 't--make free with it. +I'll thank thee if thou emptiest it. The song +Gives out that wine feeds love--It drowns it, man! +If thou wilt neither hunt nor shoot, try games; +Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage, +Backgammon--special recipes for love! +And you believe, for all the hate she shows, +That neighbour Constance loves me? + +True. 'Tis my thought. + +Wild. How shall I find it out? + +True. Affect to love +Another. Say your passion thrives; the day +Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part +Of bridemaid to your bride. 'Twill bring her out. + +Wild. You think she'll own her passion? + +True. If she loves. + +Wild. I thank thee! I will try it! Master Trueworth, +What shall I say to thee, to give her up, +And love her so? + +True. Say nothing. + +Wild. Noble friend! +Kind friend! Instruct another man the way +To win thy mistress! Thou'lt not break my heart? +Take my advice, thou shalt not be in love +A month! Frequent the playhouse!--walk the Park! +I'll think of fifty ladies that I know, +Yet can't remember now--enchanting ones! +And then there's Lancashire!--and I have friends +In Berkshire and in Wiltshire, that have swarms +Of daughters! Then my shooting-lodge and stud! +I'll cure thee in a fortnight of thy love! +And now to neighbour Constance--yet almost +I fear accosting her--a hundred times +Have I essayed to break my mind to her, +But still she stops my mouth with restless scorn! +Howe'er, thy scheme I'll try, and may it thrive! +For I am sick for love of neighbour Constance. +Farewell, dear Master Trueworth! Take my counsel - +Conquer thy passion! Do so! Be a man! + +[Goes out.] + +True. Feat easy done that does not tax ourselves! + +[Enter Phoebe.] + +Phoebe. A letter, sir. + +[Goes out.] + +True. Good sooth, a roaming one, +And yet slow traveller. This should have reached me +In Lombardy.--The hand! Give way, weak seal, +Thy feeble let too strong for my impatience! +Ha! Wronged!--Let me contain myself!--Compelled +To fly the roof that gave her birth!--My sister! +No partner in her flight but her pure honour! +I am again a brother. Pillow, board, +I know not till I find her. + +[Enter WALLER.] + +Wal. Master Trueworth! + +True. Ha! Master Waller! Welcome, Master Waller. + +Wal. Good Master Trueworth, thank you. Finding you +From home, I e'en made bold to follow you, +For I esteem you as a man, and fain +Would benefit by your kind offices. +But let me tell you first, to your reproof, +I am indebted more than e'er I was +To praise of any other! I am come, sir, +To give you evidence I am not one +Who owns advice is right, and acts not on't. + +True. Pray you explain. + +Wal. Will you the bearer be +Of this to one has cause to thank you, too, +Though I the larger debtor?--Read it, sir. + +True. [Reading the letter.] "At morn to-morrow I will make you +mine; +Will you accept from me the name of wife - +The name of husband give me in exchange?" + +Wal. How say you, sir? + +True. 'Tis boldly--nobly done! + +Wal. If she consents--which affectation 'twere +To say I doubt--bid her prepare for church, +And you shall act the father, sir, to her +You did the brother by. + +True. Right willingly, +Though matter of high moment I defer, +Mind, heart, and soul, are all enlisted in! + +Wal. May I implore you, haste! A time is set! - +How light an act of duty makes the heart! + +[They go out together.] + + +SCENE III.--Another Chamber in Sir William's house. + + +[CONSTANCE discovered.] + +Con. I'll pine to death for no man! Wise it were, +Indeed, to die for neighbour Wildrake--No! - +I know the duty of a woman, better - +What fits a maid of spirit! I am out +Of patience with myself, to cast a thought +Away upon him. Hang him! Lovers cost +Nought but the pains of luring. I'll get fifty, +And break the heart of every one of them! +I will! I'll be the champion of my sex, +And take revenge on shallow, fickle man, +Who gives his heart to fools, and slights the worth +Of proper women! I suppose she's handsome! +My face 'gainst hers, at hazard of mine eyes! +A maid of mind! I'll talk her to a stand, +Or tie my tongue for life! A maid of soul! +An artful, managing, dissembling one! +Or she had never caught. Him!--he's no man +To fall in love himself, or long ago +I warrant he had fall'n in love with me! +I hate the fool--I do! Ha, here he comes. +What brings him hither? Let me dry my eyes; +He must not see I have been crying. Hang him, +I have much to do, indeed, to cry for him! + +[Enter WILDRAKE] + +Wild. Your servant, neighbour Constance. + +Con. Servant, sir! +Now what, I wonder, comes the fool to say, +Makes him look so important? + +Wild. Neighbour Constance, +I am a happy man. + +Con. What makes you so? + +Wild. A thriving suit. + +Con. In Chancery? + +Wild. Oh, no! +In love. + +Con. Oh, true! You are in love! Go on! + +Wild. Well, as I said, my suit's a thriving one. + +Con. You mean you are beloved again!--I don't +Believe it. + +Wild. I can give you proof. + +Con. What proof? +Love letters? She's a shameless maid +To write them! Can she spell? Ay, I suppose +With prompting of a dictionary! + +Wild. Nay +Without one. + +Con. I will lay you ten to one +She cannot spell! How know you she can spell? +You cannot spell yourself! You write command +With a single M-C-O-M-A-N-D: +Yours to Co-mand. + +Wild. I did not say she wrote +Love letters to me. + +Con. Then she suffers you to press +Her hand, perhaps? + +Wild. She does. + +Con. Does she press yours? + +Wild. She does.--It goes on swimmingly! [Aside.] + +Con. She does! +She is no modest woman! I'll be bound, +Your arm the madam suffers round her waist? + +Wild. She does! + +Con. She does! Outrageous forwardness! +Does she let you kiss her? + +Wild. Yes. + +Con. She should be - + +Wild. What? + +Con. What you got thrice your share of when at school, +And yet not half your due! A brazen face! +More could not grant a maid about to wed. + +Wild. She is so. + +Con. What? + +Wild. How swimmingly it goes! [Aside.] + +Con. [With suppressed impatience.] Are you about to marry, +neighbour Wildrake? +Are you about to marry? + +Wild. Excellent. [Aside.] + +Con. [Breaking out.] Why don't you answer me? + +Wild. I am. + +Con. You are - +I tell you what, sir--You're a fool! + +Wild. For what? + +Con. You are not fit to marry. Do not know +Enough of the world, sir! Have no more experience, +Thought, judgment, than a schoolboy! Have no mind +Of your own!--your wife will make a fool of you, +Will jilt you, break your heart! I wish she may +I do! You have no more business with a wife; +Than I have! Do you mean to say, indeed, +You are about to marry? + +Wild. Yes, indeed. + +Con. And when? + +Wild. I'll say to-morrow! [Aside.] + +Con. When, I say? + +Wild. To-morrow. + +Con. Thank you: much beholden to you! +You've told me on't in time! I'm very much +Beholden to you, neighbour Wildrake! +And, I pray you, at what hour? + +Wild. That we have left +For you to name. + +Con. For me! + +Wild. For you. + +Con. Indeed. +You're very bountiful! I should not wonder +Meant you I should be bridemaid to the lady? + +Wild. 'Tis just the thing I mean! + +Con. [Furiously.] The thing you mean! +Now pray you, neighbour, tell me that again, +And think before you speak; for much I doubt +You know what you are saying. Do you mean +To ask me to be bridemaid? + +Wild. Even so. + +Con. Bridemaid? + +Wild. Ay, bridemaid!--It is coming fast +Unto a head. [Aside.] + +Con. And 'tis for me you wait +To fix the day? It shall be doomsday, then! + +Wild. Be doomsday? + +Con. Doomsday! + +Wild. Wherefore doomsday? + +Con. Wherefore!--[Boxes him.] +Go ask your bride, and give her that from me. +Look, neighbour Wildrake! you may think this strange, +But don't misconstrue it! For you are vain, sir! +And may put down for love what comes from hate. +I should not wonder, thought you I was jealous; +But I'm not jealous, sir!--would scorn to be so +Where it was worth my while--I pray henceforth +We may be strangers, sir--you will oblige me +By going out of town. I should not like +To meet you on the street, sir. Marry, sir! +Marry to-day! The sooner, sir, the better! +And may you find you have made a bargain, sir. +As for the lady!--much I wish her joy. +I pray you send me no bridecake, sir! +Nor gloves--If you do, I'll give them to my maid! +Or throw them into the kennel--or the fire. +I am your most obedient servant, sir! + +[Goes out.] + +Wild. She is a riddle, solve her he who can! + +[Goes out.] + + + +ACT V. + + + +SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's. + + +[SIR WILLIAM seated with two Lawyers.] + +Sir Wil. How many words you take to tell few things +Again, again say over what, said once, +Methinks were told enough! + +First Lawyer. It is the law, +Which labours at precision. + +Sir Wil. Yes; and thrives +Upon uncertainty--and makes it, too, +With all its pains to shun it. I could bind +Myself, methinks, with but the twentieth part +Of all this cordage, sirs.--But every man, +As they say, to his own business. You think +The settlement is handsome? + +First Lawyer. Very, sir. + +Sir Wil. Then now, sirs, we have done, and take my thanks, +Which, with your charges, I will render you +Again to-morrow. + +First Lawyer. Happy nuptials, sir. + +[Lawyers go out.] + +Sir Wil. Who passes there? Hoa! send my daughter to me, +And Master Wildrake too! I wait for them. +Bold work!--Without her leave to wait upon her, +And ask her go to church!--'Tis taking her +By storm! What else could move her yesterday +But jealousy? What causeth jealousy +But love? She's mine the moment she receives +Conclusive proof, like this, that heart and soul, +And mind and person, I am all her own! +Heigh ho! These soft alarms are very sweet, +And yet tormenting too! Ha! Master Wildrake, + +[Enter WILDRAKE.] + +I am glad you're ready, for I'm all in arms +To bear the widow off. Come! Don't be sad; +All must go merrily, you know, to-day! - +She still doth bear him hard, I see! The girl +Affects him not, and Trueworth is at fault, +Though clear it is that he doth die for her. [Aside.] +Well, daughter?--So I see you're ready too. + +[Enter CONSTANCE.] + +Why, what's amiss with thee? + +Phoebe. [Entering.] The coach is here. + +Sir Wil. Come, Wildrake, offer her your arm. + +Con. [To WILDRAKE.] I thank you! +I am not an invalid!--can use my limbs! +He knows not how to make an arm, befits +A lady lean upon. + +Sir Wil. Why, teach him, then. + +Con. Teach him! Teach Master Wildrake! Teach, indeed! +I taught my dog to beg, because I knew +That he could learn it. + +Sir Wil. Peace, thou little shrew! +I'll have no wrangling on my wedding-day! +Here, take my arm. + +Con. I'll not!--I'll walk alone! +Live, die alone! I do abominate +The fool and all his sex! + +Sir Wil. Again! + +Con. I have done. +When do you marry, Master Wildrake? She +Will want a husband goes to church with thee! + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE II.--Widow Green's Dressing-room. + + +[WIDOW GREEN discovered at her Toilet, attended by AMELIA, WALLER'S +Letter to LYDIA in her hand.] + +W. Green. Oh, bond of destiny!--Fair bond, that seal'st +My fate in happiness! I'll read thee yet +Again--although thou'rt written on my heart. +But here his hand, indicting thee, did lie! +And this the tracing of his fingers! So +I read thee that could rhyme thee, as my prayers! +"At morn to-morrow I will make you mine. +Will you accept from me the name of wife - +The name of husband give me in exchange?" +The traitress! to break ope my billet-doux, +And take the envelope!--But I forgive her, +Since she did leave the rich contents behind. +Amelia, give this feather more a slope, +That it sit droopingly. I would look all +Dissolvement, nought about me to bespeak +Boldness! I would appear a timid bride, +Trembling upon the verge of wifehood, as +I ne'er before had stood there! That will do. +Oh dear!--How I am agitated--don't +I look so? I have found a secret out, - +Nothing in woman strikes a man so much +As to look interesting! Hang this cheek +Of mine! It is too saucy; what a pity +To have a colour of one's own!--Amelia! +Could you contrive, dear girl, to bleach my cheek, +How I would thank you! I could give it then +What tint I chose, and that should be the hectic +Bespeaks a heart in delicate commotion. +I am much too florid! Stick a rose in my hair, +The brightest you can find, 'twill help, my girl, +Subdue my rebel colour--Nay, the rose +Doth lose complexion, not my cheek! Exchange it +For a carnation. That's the flower, Amelia! +You see how it doth triumph o'er my cheek. +Are you content with me? + +Amelia. I am, my lady. + +W. Green. And whither think you has the hussy gone, +Whose place you fill so well?--Into the country? +Or fancy you she stops in town? + +Amelia. I can't +Conjecture. + +W. Green. Shame upon her!--Leave her place +Without a moment's warning!--with a man, too! +Seemed he a gentleman that took her hence? + +Amelia. He did. + +W. Green. You never saw him hero before? + +Amelia. Never. + +W. Green. Not lounging on the other side +Of the street, and reconnoitring the windows? + +Amelia. Never. + +W. Green. 'Twas planned by letter. Notes, you know, +Have often come to her--But I forgive her, +Since this advice she chanced to leave behind +Of gentle Master Waller's wishes, which +I bless myself in blessing!--Gods, a knock! +'Tis he! Show in those ladies are so kind +To act my bridemaids for me on this brief +And agitating notice. + +[AMELIA goes out.] + +Yes, I look +A bride sufficiently! And this the hand +That gives away my liberty again. +Upon my life it is a pretty hand, +A delicate and sentimental hand! +No lotion equals gloves; no woman knows +The use of them that does not sleep in them! +My neck hath kept its colour wondrously! +Well; after all it is no miracle +That I should win the heart of a young man. +My bridemaids come!--Oh dear! + +[Enter two Ladies.] + +First Lady. How do you, love? A good morning to you--Poor dear, +How much you are affected! Why we thought +You ne'er would summon us. + +W. Green. One takes, you know, +When one is flurried, twice the time to dress. +My dears, has either of you salts? I thank you! +They are excellent; the virtue's gone from mine, +Nor thought I of renewing them--Indeed, +I'm unprovided, quite, for this affair. + +First Lady. I think the bridegroom's come! + +W. Green. Don't say so! How +You've made my heart jump! + +First Lady. As you sent for us, +A new-launched carriage drove up to the door; +The servants all in favours. + +W. Green. 'Pon my life, +I never shall get through it; lend me your hand. + +[Half rises, and throws herself back on her chair again.] + +I must sit down again! There came just now +A feeling like to swooning over me. +I am sure before 'tis over I shall make +A fool of myself! I vow I thought not half +So much of my first wedding-day! I'll make +An effort. Let me lean upon your arm, +And give me yours, my dear. Amelia, mind +Keep near me with the smelling-bottle. + +Servant. [Entering.] Madam, +The bridegroom's come. + +[Goes out.] + +W. Green. The brute has knocked me down! +To bolt it out so! I had started less +If he had fired a cannon at my ear. +How shall I ever manage to hold up +Till all is done! I'm tremor head to foot. +You can excuse me, can't you?--Pity me! +One may feel queer upon one's wedding-day. + +[They go out.] + + +SCENE THE LAST.--A Drawing-room. + + +[Enter Servants, showing in SIR WILLIAM FONDLOVE, CONSTANCE, and +MASTER WILDRAKE--Servants go out again.] + +Sir Wil. [Aside to WILDRAKE.] Good Master Wildrake, look more +cheerfully!--Come, +You do not honour to my wedding-day. +How brisk am I! My body moves on springs! +My stature gives no inch I throw away; +My supple joints play free and sportfully; +I'm every atom what a man should be. + +Wild. I pray you pardon me, Sir William! + +Sir Wil. Smile, then, +And talk and rally me! I did expect, +Ere half an hour had passed, you would have put me +A dozen times to the blush. Without such things, +A bridegroom knows not his own wedding-day. +I see! Her looks are glossary to thine, +She flouts thee still, I marvel not at thee; +There's thunder in that cloud! I would to-day +It would disperse, and gather in the morning. +I fear me much thou know'st not how to woo. +I'll give thee a lesson. Ever there's a way, +But knows one how to take it? Twenty men +Have courted Widow Green. Who has her now? +I sent to advertise her that to-day +I meant to marry her. She wouldn't open +My note. And gave I up? I took the way +To make her love me! I did send, again +To pray her leave my daughter should be bridemaid. +That letter too came back? Did I give up? +I took the way to make her love me! Yet, +Again I sent to ask what church she chose +To marry at; my note came back again; +And did I yet give up? I took the way +To make her love me! All the while I found +She was preparing for the wedding. Take +A hint from me! She comes! My fluttering heart +Gives note the empress of its realms is near. +Now, Master Wildrake, mark and learn from me +How it behoves a bridegroom play his part. + +[Enter WIDOW GREEN, supported by her Bridemaids, and followed by +AMELIA.] + +W. Green. I cannot raise my eyes--they cannot bear +The beams of his, which, like the sun's, I feel +Are on me, though I see them not enlightening +The heaven of his young face; nor dare I scan +The brightness of his form, which symmetry +And youth and beauty in enriching vie. +He kneels to me! Now grows my breathing thick, +As though I did await a seraph's voice, +Too rich for mortal ear. + +Sir Wil. My gentle bride! + +W. Green. Who's that! who speaks to me? + +Sir Wil. These transports check. +Lo, an example to mankind I set +Of amorous emprise; and who should thrive +In love, if not Love's soldier, who doth press +The doubtful siege, and will not own repulse. +Lo, here I tender thee my fealty, +To live thy duteous slave. My queen thou art, +In frowns or smiles, to give me life or death. +Oh, deign look down upon me! In thy face +Alone I look on day; it is my sun +Most bright; the which denied, no sun doth rise. +Shine out upon me, my divinity! +My gentle Widow Green! My wife to be; +My love, my life, my drooping, blushing bride! + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove, you're a fool! + +Sir Wil. A fool! + +W. Green. Why come you hither, sir, in trim like this? +Or rather why at all? + +Sir Wil. Why come I hither? +To marry thee! + +W. Green. The man will drive me mad! +Sir William Fondlove, I'm but forty, sir, +And you are sixty, seventy, if a day; +At least you look it, sir. I marry you! +When did a woman wed her grandfather? + +Sir Wil. Her brain is turned! + +W. Green. You're in your dotage, sir, +And yet a boy in vanity! But know +Yourself from me; you are old and ugly, sir. + +Sir Wil. Do you deny you are in love with me? + +W. Green. In love with thee! + +Sir Wil. That you are jealous of me? + +W. Green. Jealous! + +Sir Wil. To very lunacy. + +W. Green. To hear him! + +Sir Wil. Do you forget what happened yesterday? + +W. Green. Sir William Fondlove! - + +Sir Wil. Widow Green, fair play! - +Are you not laughing? Is it not a jest? +Do you believe me seventy to a day? +Do I look it? Am I old and ugly? Why, +Why do I see those favours in the hall, +These ladies dressed as bridemaids, thee as bride, +Unless to marry me? + +[Knock.] + +W. Green. He is coming, sir, +Shall answer you for me! + +[Enter WALLER, with Gentlemen as Bridemen.] + +Wal. Where is she? What! +All that bespeaks the day, except the fair +That's queen of it? Most kind of you to grace +My nuptials so! But that I render you +My thanks in full, make full my happiness, +And tell me where's my bride? + +W. Green. She's here. + +Wal. Where? + +W. Green. Here, +Fair Master Waller! + +Wal. Lady, do not mock me. + +W. Green. Mock thee! My heart is stranger to such mood, +'Tis serious tenderness and duty all. +I pray you mock not me, for I do strive +With fears and soft emotions that require +Support. Take not away my little strength, +And leave me at the mercy of a feather. +I am thy bride! If 'tis thy happiness +To think me so, believe it, and be rich +To thy most boundless wishes! Master Waller, +I am thy waiting bride, the Widow Green! + +Wal. Lady, no widow is the bride I seek, +But one the church has never given yet +The nuptial blessing to! + +W. Green. What mean you, sir? +Why come a bridegroom here, if not to me +You sued to be your bride? Is this your hand, sir? [Showing +letter.] + +Wal. It is, addressed to your fair waiting-maid. + +W. Green. My waiting-maid! The laugh is passing round, +And now the turn is yours, sir. She is gone! +Eloped! run off! and with the gentleman +That brought your billet-doux. + +Wal. Is Trueworth false? +He must be false. What madness tempted me +To trust him with such audience as I knew +Must sense, and mind, and soul of man entrance, +And leave him but the power to feel its spell! +Of his own lesson he would profit take, +And plead at once an honourable love, +Supplanting mine, less pure, reformed too late! +And if he did, what merit I, except +To lose the maid I would have wrongly won; +And, had I rightly prized her, now had worn! +I get but my deservings! + +[Enter TRUEWORTH, leading in LYDIA, richly dressed, and veiled front +head to foot.] + +Master Trueworth, +Though for thy treachery thou hast excuse, +Thou must account for it; so much I lose! +Sir, you have wronged me to amount beyond +Acres, and gold, and life, which makes them rich. +And compensation I demand of you, +Such as a man expects, and none but one +That's less than man refuses! Where's the maid +You falsely did abstract? + +True. I took her hence, +But not by guile, nor yet enforcement, sir; +But of her free will, knowing what she did. +That, as I found, I cannot give her back, +I own her state is changed, but in her place +This maid I offer you, her image far +As feature, form, complexion, nature go! +Resemblance halting, only there, where thou +Thyself didst pause, condition, for this maid +Is gently born and generously bred. +Lo! for your fair loss, fair equivalent! + +Wal. Show me another sun, another earth +I can inherit, as this Sun and Earth; +As thou didst take the maid, the maid herself +Give back! herself, her sole equivalent! + +True. Her sole equivalent I offer you! +My sister, sir, long counted lost, now found, +Who fled her home unwelcome bands to 'scape, +Which a half-father would have forced upon her, +Taking advantage of her brother's absence +Away on travel in a distant land! +Returned, I missed her; of the cause received +Invention, coward, false and criminating! +And gave her up for lost; but happily +Did find her yesterday--Behold her, sir! + +[Removes veil.] + +Wal. Lydia! + +W. Green. My waiting-maid! + +Wal. Thy sister, Trueworth! +Art thou fit brother to this virtuous maid? + +True. [Giving LYDIA to WALLER.] Let this assure thee. + +Lydia. [To WIDOW GREEN.] Madam, pardon me +My double character, for honesty, +No other end assumed--and my concealment +Of Master Waller's love. In all things else +I trust I may believe you hold me blameless; +At least, I'll say for you, I should be so, +For it was pastime, madam, not a task, +To wait upon you! Little you exacted, +And ever made the most of what I did +In mere obedience to you! + +W. Green. Give me your hand, +No love without a little roguery. +If you do play the mistress well as maid, +You will hear off the bell! There never was +A better girl!--I have made myself a fool. +I am undone, if goes the news abroad. +My wedding dress I donned for no effect +Except to put it off! I must be married. +I'm a lost woman, if another day +I go without a husband!--What a sight +He looks by Master Waller!--Yet he is physic +I die without, so needs must gulp it down. +I'll swallow him with what good grace I can, +Sir William Fondlove! + +Sir Wil. Widow Green! + +W. Green. I own +I have been rude to you. Thou dost not look +So old by thirty, forty, years as I +Did say. Thou'rt far from ugly--very far! +And as I said, Sir William, once before, +Thou art a kind and right good-humoured man: +I was but angry with you! Why, I'll tell you +At more convenient season--and you know +An angry woman heeds not what she says, +And will say anything! + +Sir Wil. I were unworthy +The name of man, if an apology +So gracious came off profitless, and from +A lady! Will you take me, Widow Green? + +W. Green. Hem! [Curtsies.] + +True. [To WILDRAKE.] Master Wildrake dressed to go to church! +She has acknowledged, then, she loves thee?--No? +Give me thy hand, I'll lead thee up to her. + +Wild. 'Sdeath! what are you about? You know her not. +She'll brain thee! + +True. Fear not: come along with me. +Fair Mistress Constance! + +Con. Well, sir! + +Wild. [To TRUEWORTH.] Mind! + +True. Don't fear. +Love you not neighbour Wildrake? + +Con. Love, sir? + +True. Yes, +You do. + +Con. He loves another, sir, he does! +I hate him. We were children, sir, together +For fifteen years and more; there never came +The day we did not quarrel, make it up, +Quarrel again, and make it up again: +Were never neighbours more like neighbours, sir. +Since he became a man, and I a woman, +It still has been the same; nor eared I ever +To give a frown to any other, sir. +And now to come and tell me he's in love, +And ask me to be bridemaid to his bride! +How durst he do it, sir!--To fall in love! +Methinks at least he might have asked my leave, +Nor had I wondered had he asked myself, sir! + +Wild. Then give thyself to me! + +Con. How! what! + +Wild. Be mine, +Thou art the only maid thy neighbour loves. + +Con. Art serious, neighbour Wildrake? + +Wild. In the church +I'll answer thee, if thou wilt take me; though +I neither dress, nor walk, nor dance, nor know +"The Widow Jones" from an Italian, French, +Or German air. + +Con. No more of that.--My hand. + +Wild. Givest it as free as thou didst yesterday? + +Con. [Affecting to strike him.] Nay! + +Wild. I will thank it, give it how thou wilt. + +W. Green. A triple wedding! May the Widow Green +Obtain brief hearing e'er she quits the scene, +The Love-Chase to your kindness to commend +In favour of an old, now absent, friend! + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Love-Chase, by James S. Knowles + diff --git a/old/lvchs10.zip b/old/lvchs10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e90e3c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/lvchs10.zip |