The Love-chase Part 18

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!--G.o.ds, 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 pa.s.sed, 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?