The Love-chase Part 17

_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 pa.s.ses 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 s.e.x!

_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.