[Half rises, and throws herself back on her chair again.]
I must sit down again! There came just now
A feeling like to swooning over me.
I am sure before ’tis over I shall make
A fool of myself! I vow I thought not half
So much of my first wedding-day! I’ll make
An effort. Let me lean upon your arm,
And give me yours, my dear. Amelia, mind
Keep near me with the smelling-bottle.
Servant. [Entering.] Madam,
The bridegroom’s come.
[Goes out.]
W. Green. The brute has knocked me down!
To bolt it out so! I had started less
If he had fired a cannon at my ear.
How shall I ever manage to hold up
Till all is done! I’m tremor head to foot.
You can excuse me, can’t you?—Pity me!
One may feel queer upon one’s wedding-day.
[They go out.]
SCENE THE LAST.—A Drawing-room.
[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!