[Enter Modus.]
Wal. Here comes your cousin;—he shall be your bridesman!
The thought’s a sudden one,—that will excuse
Defect in your appointments. A plain dress,—
So ’tis of white,—will do.
Helen. I’ll dress in black.
I’ll quit the castle.
Wal. That you shall not do.
Its doors are guarded by my lord’s domestics,
Its avenues—its grounds. What you must do,
Do with a good grace! In an hour, or less,
Your father will be here. Make up your mind
To take with thankfulness the man he gives you.
Now, [Aside] if they find not out how beat their hearts,
I have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses.
[Goes out.]
Helen. Why, cousin Modus! What! will you stand by
And see me forced to marry? Cousin Modus!
Have you not got a tongue? Have you not eyes?
Do you not see I’m very—very ill,
And not a chair in all the corridor?
Mod. I’ll find one in the study.
Helen. Hang the study!
Mod. My room’s at hand. I’ll fetch one thence.
Helen. You shan’t
I’d faint ere you came back!