Call it by other name—
It is not love!
Enter Dr. Daly.
Dr. D. (musing). It is singular—it is very singular. It has overthrown all my calculations. It is distinctly opposed to the doctrine of averages. I cannot understand it.
Ali. Dear Dr. Daly, what has puzzled you?
Dr. D. My dear, this village has not hitherto been addicted to marrying and giving in marriage. Hitherto the youths of this village have not been enterprising, and the maidens have been distinctly coy. Judge then of my surprise when I tell you that the whole village came to me in a body just now, and implored me to join them in matrimony with as little delay as possible. Even your excellent father has hinted to me that before very long it is not unlikely that he, also, may change his condition.
Ali. Oh, Alexis—do you hear that? Are you not delighted?
Alex. Yes. I confess that a union between your mother and my father would be a happy circumstance indeed. (Crossing to Dr. Daly.) My dear sir, the news that you bring us is very gratifying.
Dr. D. Yes—still, in my eyes, it has its melancholy side. This universal marrying recalls the happy days—now, alas! gone for ever—when I myself might have—but tush! I am puling. I am too old to marry—and yet, within the last half-hour, I have greatly yearned for companionship. I never remarked it before, but the young maidens of this village are very comely. So likewise are the middle-aged. Also the elderly. All are comely—and (with a deep sigh) all are engaged!