Fee. Sir, forbear: I have one bold enough to kiss my lips. O old coxcomb! kiss thine own natural son: 'tis worse than a Justice's lying with his own daughter. But, Master Welltried, when will the widow break this matter to me?
[Count sits in a chair, and falls asleep.
Well. Not till the very close of all: she dissembles it yet, because my lord, your father, is here, and her other suitor Bold.
Fee. That's all one; he's o' th' plot o' my side.
Wid. 'Tis needless, Master Bold; but I will do
Anything you require to satisfy you.
Why should you doubt I will forbid the banns,
For so your friend here told me? I should rather
Doubt that you will not marry.
Bold. Madam, by heaven,
As fully I am resolv'd to marry now,
And will too, if you do not hinder it,
As ever lover was; only because
The world has taken notice of some passage
'Twixt you and me, and then to satisfy
My sweetheart here, who (poor soul!) is afraid,
To have some public disgrace put upon her,
I do require some small thing at your hands.
Wid. Well, I will do it; and this profess besides;
Married, you shall as welcome be to me
As mine own brother; and yourself, fair lady,
Even as myself, both to my board and bed.
Well. Ah, ah! how like you that?
Fee. Now she begins.
Abundant thanks unto your widowhood.
Zounds! my father's asleep on's wedding-day:
I wonder'd, where his cough was all this while.
Enter Ingen, like a doctor: a Parson, Brother, Lord Proudly, Seldom, Mistress Seldom, Husband, Wife, and Subtle.
Ingen. I pray, forbear the chamber: noise does hurt her;
Her sickness I guess rather of the mind
Than of her body, for her pulse beats well;
Her vital functions not decay'd a whit,
But have their natural life and operation.
My lord, be cheer'd, I have an ingredient
About me shall make her well, I doubt not.
In, master parson: it shall be yours to[139] pray;
The soul's physician should have still the way.
[Exit Ingen; Parson shuts the door.