University of Virginia Library

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 shall 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 get the license,
Prepare the clergyman and wait upon her
To carry her to church!—'Tis taking her
By storm! What else could move her yesterday
But jealousy? What causes 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,
Yet tantalizing 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 makes jest of him, I see! The girl
Affects him not, and Trueworth is at fault,
Though clear it is that he is dying for her.
[Aside.
Well, daughter?—So I see you're ready too.
Enter Constance.
Why, what's amiss with thee?

Phœbe.
[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 to the coach!
Alone live, die alone! I do execrate
The fool and all his sex!

Sir Wil.
Again!

Con.
I have done.
When do you marry, Master Wildrake? She
Will want a spouse, who goes to church with thee!

[They go out.