RICH. What, doth Matilda smile,
That still like silence solitary sat?
Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet
(That have forgot for want of exercise,
And by the means your sorrow had no mean)
To tread a measure for a gallant crew
Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs;
Before whom, unentreated, I am come,
And have prevented, I believe, their page,
Who with his torch is enter'd.
FITZ. Richmond, thanks,
If you have aught to say about the masquers.
Beseech the gentlemen to enter in,
For they are welcome guests to old Fitzwater.
[Exit Messenger.
Son, son, I pray you fetch the ladies in:
We have been talking here about a match,
And left our noble friends in discontent.
RICH. Nay, by my faith we had much merriment,
Yet thought it long you neither came nor sent.
[MATILDA faints, and sits down.
FITZ. How now, Matilda? pray thee, cheer thee, girl.
MAT. I thought it was a lightening before death,[312]
Too sudden to be certain. Good pleasure, stay.
Enter Ladies.
Wilt thou not, wanton? churl, then go thy way.
RICH. What, chang'd so soon? so soon fallen to your dumps?
Cheerly! the masque comes in.
[Enter the Masque.]