[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?
