W. Green. Sir William Fondlove!—
Sir Wil. Widow Green, fair play!—
Are you not laughing? Is it not a jest?
Do you believe me seventy to a day?
Do I look it? Am I old and ugly? Why,
Why do I see those favours in the hall,
These ladies dressed as bridemaids, thee as bride,
Unless to marry me?
[Knock.]
W. Green. He is coming, sir,
Shall answer you for me!
[Enter Waller, with Gentlemen as Bridemen.]
Wal. Where is she? What!
All that bespeaks the day, except the fair
That’s queen of it? Most kind of you to grace
My nuptials so! But that I render you
My thanks in full, make full my happiness,
And tell me where’s my bride?
W. Green. She’s here.
Wal. Where?
W. Green. Here,
Fair Master Waller!
Wal. Lady, do not mock me.