James Sheridan Knowles

“ In love with neighbour Constance!—I feel strange
At thought that she should marry!— [Aside.] Go to church
With neighbour Constance! That’s a steeple-chase
I never thought of. I feel very strange!
What seest in neighbour Constance?
True. Lovers’ eyes
See with a vision proper to themselves;
Yet thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm.
First, then, I see in her the mould express
Of woman—stature, feature, body, limb—
Breathing the gentle sex we value most,
When most ’tis at antipodes with ours!
Wild. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman.
Why, yes; she is a woman, certainly. ”

“ Nay, neighbour Constance!
True. He is high in storm.
[Enter Wildrake and Constance.]
Wild. To Lincolnshire, I tell thee.
Con. Lincolnshire!
What, prithee, takes thee off to Lincolnshire?
Wild. Too great delight in thy fair company.
True. Nay, Master Wildrake, why away so soon?
You are scarce a day in town!—Extremes like this,
And starts of purpose, are the signs of love.
Though immatured as yet. [Aside.]
Con. He’s long enough
In town! What should he here? He’s lost in town:
No man is he for concerts, balls, or routs!
No game he knows at cards, save rare Pope Joan! ”

“ Thy lesson now—Sir William Fondlove’s rich,
And riches, though they’re paste, yet being many,
The jewel love we often cast away for.
I use him but for Master Waller’s sake.
Dost like my policy?
Lydia. You will not chide me?
W. Green. Nay, Lydia, I do like to hear thy thoughts,
They are such novel things—plants that do thrive
With country air! I marvel still they flower,
And thou so long in town! Speak freely, girl!
Lydia. I cannot think love thrives by artifice,
Or can disguise its mood, and show its face. ”

“ Gain for a maid,
A broken heart!—to barter her young love,
And find she changed it for a counterfeit!
Wal. If there is truth in man, I love thee! Hear me!
In wedlock, families claim property.
Old notions, which we needs must humour often,
Bar us to wed where we are forced to love!
Thou hear’st?
Lydia. I do.
Wal. My family is proud;
Our ancestor, whose arms we bear, did win
An earldom by his deeds. ’Tis not enough
I please myself! I must please others, who
Desert in wealth and station only see.
Thou hear’st?
Lydia. I do.
Wal. I cannot marry thee,
And must I lose thee? ”

“ Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage,
Backgammon—special recipes for love!
And you believe, for all the hate she shows,
That neighbour Constance loves me?
True. ’Tis my thought.
Wild. How shall I find it out?
True. Affect to love
Another. Say your passion thrives; the day
Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part
Of bridemaid to your bride. ’Twill bring her out.
Wild. You think she’ll own her passion?
True. If she loves.
Wild. I thank thee! I will try it! Master Trueworth,
What shall I say to thee, to give her up,
And love her so? ”

“ SCENE III.—Another Chamber in Sir William’s house.
[Constance discovered.]
Con. I’ll pine to death for no man! Wise it were,
Indeed, to die for neighbour Wildrake—No!—
I know the duty of a woman, better—
What fits a maid of spirit! I am out
Of patience with myself, to cast a thought
Away upon him. Hang him! Lovers cost
Nought but the pains of luring. I’ll get fifty,
And break the heart of every one of them!
I will! I’ll be the champion of my sex,
And take revenge on shallow, fickle man,
Who gives his heart to fools, and slights the worth
Of proper women! I suppose she’s handsome! ”

“ ACT II. SCENE I.—A Room in Sir William’s House.
[Enter Trueworth and Wildrake.]
Wild. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone!
She treats me worse and worse! I am a stock,
That words have none to pay her. For her sake
I quit the town to-day. I like a jest,
But hers are jests past bearing. I am her butt,
She nothing does but practise on! A plague!—
Fly her shafts ever your way?
True. Would they did!
Wild. Art mad?—or wishest she should drive thee so?
True. Thou knowest her not.
Wild. I know not neighbour Constance? ”

“ To Lincolnshire, and mind thy dog and horn!
You’ll never do for town! “The Widow Jones”
To come from Italy! Stay not in town,
Or you’ll be married to the Widow Jones,
Since you’ve forsworn, you say, the Widow Green!
And morn and night they’ll din your ears with her!
“Well met, dear Master Wildrake. A fine day!
Pray, can you tell whence came the Widow Jones?”
They love a jest in town! To Lincolnshire!
You’ll never do for town! To Lincolnshire;
“The Widow Jones” to come from Italy!
[Goes out.]
Wild. Confound the Widow Jones! ’Tis true! ”

“ In Berkshire and in Wiltshire, that have swarms
Of daughters! Then my shooting-lodge and stud!
I’ll cure thee in a fortnight of thy love!
And now to neighbour Constance—yet almost
I fear accosting her—a hundred times
Have I essayed to break my mind to her,
But still she stops my mouth with restless scorn!
Howe’er, thy scheme I’ll try, and may it thrive!
For I am sick for love of neighbour Constance.
Farewell, dear Master Trueworth! Take my counsel—
Conquer thy passion! Do so! Be a man!
[Goes out.]
True. Feat easy done that does not tax ourselves!
[Enter Phœbe.]
Phœbe. ”

“ Luck to you, Master Waller! If you win,
You merit it, who take the way to win!
Wal. Good Master Neville!
True. I should laugh to see
The poacher snared!—the maid, for mistress sought,
Turn out a wife.
Nev. How say you, Master Waller?
Things quite as strange have fallen!
Wal. Impossible!
True. Impossible! Most possible of things—
If thou’rt in love! Where merit lies itself,
What matters it to want the name, which weighed,
Is not the worth of so much breath as it takes
To utter it! ”

“ ACT III. SCENE I.—A Room in Widow Green’s.
[Enter Master Waller, following Lydia.]
Wal. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia.
Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself!
Thy own perfections ’tis that talk to thee.
Thy beauty rich!—thy richer grace!—thy mind,
More rich again than that, though richest each!
Except for these, I had no tongue for thee,
Eyes for thee!—ears!—had never followed thee!—
Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me!—
Lydia. Love
Should seek its match. No match am I for thee.
Wal. Right! Love should seek its match ”

“ I can’t spare neighbour Wildrake—neighbour Wildrake!
Although I would not marry him myself,
I could not hear that other married him!
Go to my father—’tis a proper match!
He has my leave! He’s welcome to bring home
The Widow Green. I’ll give up house and all!
She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake;
He would wear out her patience—plague her to death,
As he does me. She must not marry him! ”

“ Men sometimes find a friend’s hand of avail,
When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me thine?
Wild. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase!
True. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of that?
I’m for the steeple—not to ride a race,
Only to get there!—nor alone, in sooth,
But in fair company.
Wild. Thou’rt not in love!
True. Heigh ho!
Wild. Thou wouldst not marry!
True. With your help.
Wild. And whom, I prithee?
True. Gentle Mistress Constance!
Wild. What!—neighbour Constance?—Never did I dream
That mortal man would fall in love with her. [Aside.] ”

“ Sir, I may have a woman’s weakness, but
I have a woman’s resolution, too,
And that’s a woman’s strength!
One moment more!—
Wal. Lo! Thou art free to go!
[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.]
[Lydia approaches the door—her pace slackens—she pauses with her hand upon the lock—turns, and looks earnestly on Waller.]
Lydia. I have a word
To say to thee; if by thy mother’s honour,
Thou swear’st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat.
Wal. I swear as thou propound’st to me.
Lydia. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, why—
Why have you used me thus? See what you’ve done! ”

“ Nothing in woman strikes a man so much
As to look interesting! Hang this cheek
Of mine! It is too saucy; what a pity
To have a colour of one’s own!—Amelia!
Could you contrive, dear girl, to bleach my cheek,
How I would thank you! I could give it then
What tint I chose, and that should be the hectic
Bespeaks a heart in delicate commotion.
I am much too florid! Stick a rose in my hair,
The brightest you can find, ’twill help, my girl,
Subdue my rebel colour—Nay, the rose
Doth lose complexion, not my cheek! Exchange it
For a carnation. That’s the flower, Amelia! ”

“ 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. ”

“ Eh? Clear in my complexion? Eh?—brimful
Of spirits? not too much of me, nor yet
Too little?—Eh?—A woman worth a man?
Look at me, Lydia! Would you credit, girl,
I was a scarecrow before marriage?
Lydia. Nay!—
W. Green. Girl, but I tell thee “yea.” That gown of thine—
And thou art slender—would have hung about me!
There’s something of me now! good sooth, enough!
Lydia, I’m quite contented with myself;
I’m just the thing, methinks, a widow should be.
So, Master Waller, you believe, affects me?
But, Lydia, not enough to hook the fish;
To prove the angler’s skill, it must be caught ”

“ The want of neighbour Wildrake! Not a soul
Besides I care to quarrel with; and now
He goes and gives himself to another! What!
Am I in love with neighbour Wildrake? No.
I only would not have him marry—marry?
Sooner I’d have him dead than have him marry!
ACT IV. SCENE I.—A Room in Master Waller’s House.
[Enter Alice, hastily.]
Alice. [Speaking to the outside.] Fly, Stephen, to the door! your rapier! quick!—
Our master is beset, because of one
Whose part he takes, a maid, whom lawless men
Would lawlessly entreat! ”

“ He looks by Master Waller!—Yet he is physic
I die without, so needs must gulp it down.
I’ll swallow him with what good grace I can.
Sir William Fondlove!
Sir Wil. Widow Green!
W. Green. I own
I have been rude to you. Thou dost not look
So old by thirty, forty, years as I
Did say. Thou’rt far from ugly—very far!
And as I said, Sir William, once before,
Thou art a kind and right good-humoured man:
I was but angry with you! Why, I’ll tell you
At more convenient season—and you know
An angry woman heeds not what she says,
And will say anything! ”

“ Yet if ’tis true,
By our own hearts of others we may judge,
Mine in no peril lies that’s shown to you,
Whose heart, I’m sure, is noble. Worthy sir,
Souls attract souls when they’re of kindred vein.
The life that you love, I love. Well I know,
’Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase,
You stand without a peer ”

“ And first one too—and last! No man shall touch
Her lips but me. I’ll massacre the man
That looks upon her! Yet what chance have I
With lovers of the town, whose study ’tis
To please your lady belles!—who dress, walk, talk,
To hit their tastes—what chance, a country squire
Like me? Yet your true fair, I have heard, prefers
The man before his coat at any time;
And such a one may neighbour Constance be. ”

“ A lady! Will you take me, Widow Green?
W. Green. Hem! [Curtsies.]
True. [To Wildrake.] Master Wildrake dressed to go to church!
She has acknowledged, then, she loves thee?—No?
Give me thy hand, I’ll lead thee up to her.
Wild. ’Sdeath! what are you about? You know her not.
She’ll brain thee!
True. Fear not: come along with me.
Fair Mistress Constance!
Con. Well, sir!
Wild. [To Trueworth.] Mind!
True. Don’t fear.
Love you not neighbour Wildrake?
Con. Love, sir?
True. Yes,
You do.
Con. He loves another, sir, he does! ”

“ Stay, Lydia!—No!
’Tis vain! She is in virtue resolute,
As she is bland and tender in affection.
She is a miracle, beholding which
Wonder doth grow on wonder! What a maid!
No mood but doth become her—yea, adorn her.
She turns unsightly anger into beauty!
Sour scorn grows sweetness, touching her sweet lips! ”

“ Dear neighbour Constance,
I’ll give up horses, dogs, and all for thee!
[Goes out.]
SCENE II.
[Enter Widow Green and Lydia.]
W. Green. Lydia, my gloves. If Master Waller calls,
I shall be in at three; and say the same
To old Sir William Fondlove. Tarry yet!—
What progress, think you, make I in the heart
Of fair young Master Waller? Gods, my girl,
It is a heart to win and man as well! ”

“ True. A man might bear the whip to dance with her!
Wild. Not if I had the laying of it on!
True. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme.
Wild. Yes; make an end of it!—I’m sick of it. [Aside.]
True. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp!
How well she sings to them! Whoe’er would prove
The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing,
Especially a love-song!
Wild. Does she sing
Such songs to thee?
True. Oh, yes, and constantly.
For such I ever ask her.
Wild. Forward minx! [Aside.]
Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen!
Think’st neighbour Constance is a girl to love? ”

“ Its neighbour’s glass—where Gladness sees itself,
And at the bright reflection grows more glad!
Breaks into tenfold mirth!—laughs like a child!
Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free!
Would scarce accept a kingdom, ’tis so rich! ”