[Enter Trueworth.]
Dear Master Trueworth,
What think you!—neighbour Wildrake is in love!
In love! Would you believe it, Master Trueworth?
Ne’er heed my dress and looks, but answer me.
Knowest thou of any lady he has seen
That’s like to cozen him?
True. I am not sure—
We talked to-day about the Widow Green!
Con. Her that my father fancies. Let him wed her!
Marry her to-morrow—if he will, to-night.
I can’t spare neighbour Wildrake—neighbour Wildrake!
Although I would not marry him myself,
I could not hear that other married him!
Go to my father—’tis a proper match!
He has my leave! He’s welcome to bring home
The Widow Green. I’ll give up house and all!
She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake;
He would wear out her patience—plague her to death,
As he does me. She must not marry him!
[They go out.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.—A Room in Widow Green’s.
[Enter Master Waller, following Lydia.]
Wal. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia.
Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself!
Thy own perfections ’tis that talk to thee.
Thy beauty rich!—thy richer grace!—thy mind,
More rich again than that, though richest each!
Except for these, I had no tongue for thee,
Eyes for thee!—ears!—had never followed thee!—
Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me!—
Lydia. Love
Should seek its match. No match am I for thee.