The Love-Chase [3]
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
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